The Spread of the Saiyans
"So, we're clear on this?" Rachel asked the man she had scheduled an appointment with. "I will train your militia to be unstoppable killing machines, and in exchange I will lead them into battle against my own foe."
"Deal," the man said, broadly grinning. He had received news about these things called Saiyans, and was ecstatic about the thought of having an entire army of them, especially without paying any money. She would assume command of them for a while, but then again, what foe could she possibly face that would defeat an army of Saiyan warriors? There were stronger Saiyans out there, but his army consisted of hundreds of men. If each became half as powerful as the weakest Saiyan, together they would be unstoppable. He would be proud to lead a holy war with this force of men. He could destroy all of Israel, and when the Americans said nay, he could destroy them as well. It would be tough to call him a terrorist when he was in control of the world. The Middle East would soon be stable, after falling completely under his control.
"Perfect," Rachel told him, also smiling. "Training will begin tomorrow. It will prove very intense at first, but will soon become much easier after the powers of your men are awakened."
And the best part? The Z Fighters will be totally off guard. This army will smash them into the ground, and then the world will be under my control. This fool won't get much more training than I do, so he won't be much of an obstacle.
"Okay, now if this doesn't impress you, I don't know what will," Mike said as he held the shot in his hand. He was in the middle of track season, and his specialty was shot put. He wasn't very good at throwing discus, but he was about to throw, as he put it, "hella shot."
He stood in the circle in a thrower's stance - all of his weight was on his right leg, and his left leg was for balance only. He leaned over his shoe, the shot held by his neck, left arm in front of him as though he were reading a watch. He then began to gather energy. An aura began to from around him, slowly growing larger and more intense. The shot itself glowed with energy. Mike jumped back, spun around, and pushed the shot outward, shouting as he did so.
Mike's average throw was only about 35 feet, and the school record was almost twice that. A fifty-foot throw would have been amazing, by any standards.
Mike's throw soared over the goal posts about 60 feet out, and finally came down on the other side of them. When the obvious rut Mike left was measured, his throw had been 127 feet, 5 inches.
The group of other throwers stared at him in disbelief, and his coach almost wept tears of joy.
"It gets better," Mike said. He picked up a red metal disc, normally reserved for varsity throwers. Right now, he was varsity through and through. He was entitled to the damn thing.
He held his hand above his head, palm facing upward. The disc sat in his hand. It began to spin, and soon lightning jumped across it. It glowed red, and appeared to have saw teeth around its edge made of energy. It levitated about an inch above Mike's hand. He cocked his arm slightly back, then brought it across his body.
The disc flew past a hill about 300 feet away, and cut a limb off of a tree on that hill. It then disappeared over the horizon line.
Mike's coach actually did a small dance, and was grinning from ear to ear. He put an arm around Mike's shoulder.
"Welch, that was amazing. Now if only you hadn't lost my disc," he said playfully.
"Not to worry, Gruen," Mike said. Coach Gruenewald was referred to, unless you didn't get along with him, as Gruen. Mike promptly pointed his index and middle fingers at his forehead, and concentrated on his hand. He disappeared, and reappeared with the disc he had thrown, devoid of energy and sparkling clean.
Gruen's eyes bulged. "You cleaned it, too?" he said, amazed.
Mike nodded. "Yup, and if you set all the discs and shots down here I'll clean them. Well, not the rubbers. They'll melt." Rubber discs couldn't handle the energy, and the metal ones would be warm to the touch at first. All of the shots were metal, however, so that wouldn't be an issue.
Mike fired a blast at the pile of discs and shots, and the energy enveloped them. A few seconds later, the glow dissipated, leaving behind clean shots and discs. It was all Gruen could do not to sing.
"Whoa, that was sweet," Sadie said to Mike. She was a short sophomore, with blond hair and an impressive figure. One of his fellow throwers was after her, so he knew to be careful.
"Indeed," he said with a smile. "Check it out, my hair is blond too." He then transformed into a Super Saiyan, and she smiled.
"How did you do that?" Lily, another girl who Mike knew quite well, asked with a smile.
"Like this," he said as he became a Super Saiyan 2.
"Yeah!" Erik said, imitating rapper Lil Jon. Mike laughed aloud.
"It gets better," he said. He transformed into a Super Saiyan 3, and the girls gasped.
"Ooh, nice hair," Melissa said. Melissa was one of the funniest girls on the track team, and Mike also knew her sister Maria from his math class (and even though he wouldn't say it, he still thought Maria was prettier).
Sarah then transmitted over, and grinned at Mike. "You know," she said to the others, "He's not the only one who can do it." She then transformed into a Super Saiyan, and then a Super Saiyan 2. Her hair collected in tufts like any other Super Saiyan 2 transformation, but then pointed backward and down, giving Sarah's hair a feminine look again. "And right now, I could run the 2-mile in less than a second."
Mike nodded in agreement. "That's an understatement, she's even faster than I am right now."
"She was faster than you before," everyone said at once. Mike couldn't help but smile.
"Good point," he said, not mentioning that 'faster than he is' meant being able to do in the blink of an eye what anyone else would take all day to do. He also neglected to mention that in his final form, he was several times stronger than Sarah, who was the fastest non-fused being on the planet.
After track practice, Mike found Sarah about to head home. "Hey, did I miss something?" Mike asked her before she climbed in the car.
She grinned playfully. "What are you talking about..." she asked, staring into the sky.
Mike grinned back. "Super Saiyan 2? And you didn't tell me?" He put a hand over his chest. "That cuts deep."
Sarah looked at him with mock annoyance. "You know, I am a Super Saiyan 2. You can't lie to me now, I know you're just playing. You're happy that I can do it, and you know it."
Mike shrugged his shoulders, and went Super Saiyan 3. "Now when you do that, I'll really be impressed."
"What, don't you think I can go Super Saiyan 4?" she asked.
Mike smiled again. "If you want," he said. "But, as I recall, any upper body covering is destroyed. And, if my memory serves me, my chest wasn't covered by fur, either. So unless you intend to distract the enemy with a peep show, stick to Super Saiyan 3." He then turned away to try and hide a sadistic smile. "But, I guess, it is a big jump in power. I mean, maybe it's worth it."
Sarah stared at him in shock. "You big pervert!" she shouted.
Mike looked indignant. "Hey! It was your idea!" he said in defense. "I just didn't do much to talk you out of it."
She shook her head as she stepped into the car.
"Alright, men. Wake up!" Rachel shouted into the barracks where her new militia was kept. They couldn't understand a word of English, but that wasn't an issue. Rachel's desires were channeled through her energy to the men, so they understood that now was the time to get out of bed. They quickly did so, and then one spoke. Rachel couldn't understand what he said, but she understood his question all the same: Why do you wear no robe?
"Because I am not a Muslim," she responded. When the man came forth to attempt to beat her, every hit he made only solicited a grin from Rachel's face. She never moved an inch, even after the man was exhausted.
"Now get back there," she said. He did as he was told, muttering bitterly as he went.
"Now, we will run. It builds endurance, and your body must be resilient to tolerate the energy."
The men groaned, but did as they were told. Once the sun came up, many were unable to maintain the pace they had. Rachel continued to push.
"That sun up there is about one-fourth as intense as a weak energy blast flowing over you. You must learn to tolerate it, and soon you will."
Rachel stayed true to her word. After a week of meditating and endurance-building exercises, the men would run surrounded by blue energy shields, blocking all harmful rays from the sun. It was similar to being inside a large polarized glass ball.
"Excellent," she told them. "After a few weeks, you will have enough resilience to tolerate the energy needed to fly."
They looked at her in amazement. "We will be able to fly?" one asked, shocked.
"One week ago, would you believe that you could be in the sun with no protective clothing, running for hours, and neither be tired nor have so much as a red spot on your arms?"
They nodded, understanding. If she said they could do it, they could do it.
Rachel smiled evilly, rubbing her hands together. "This army will soon be the downfall of the American Saiyans."
One overheard her. "We will destroy the American Saiyans?" he asked.
She knew this would be an excellent morale booster. "Soon, we will be powerful enough to defeat even the mighty Saiyans defending the cesspool of America! None shall stop us! No selfish tyrants will force their culture, their religion, on you any longer!"
Somewhere along the line, she began to believe what she told the men. She summoned an aura. "The world will be ours to command!" she shouted triumphantly.
A roar of proud agreement came forth from her soldiers. Her soldiers. She would be the commander of a literally unbeatable army. No human force can defeat an army that can dodge bullets and catch bombs, and not even Genzo would stand against them as a united front. She ruled the world.
Now all there was to do was complete their training, and make it final.
"Wow, you must be having fun," Mike said as he walked toward Lily at another track practice. Others were throwing discs into the field, and Lily had picked them up and was walking them back to the circle. Mike began to head out and take a few, and once he did they began to walk back.
"How's being a Saiyan?" she asked. Mike smiled, a bit surprised. He wasn't sure how much anyone knew about the Saiyans. But, he assumed, Lily wasn't exactly the type to plot against people.
"It's actually pretty sweet," he said. "Here, let me get those for you," he said. He pointed two fingers at the discs, and they all began to levitate and spin slowly. Mike turned around, facing he circle, and pointed at the rack with his fingers. The discs all flew back to the rack, and landed in pairs, girl's and boy's separate, old and new separate.
"Thanks, Welch," Sean said as he grabbed a pair of red discs. Mike smiled a bit. Sean was a good guy, but he sure did think highly of himself.
He turned around and looked back at Lily. "There, now wasn't that much easier?"
She smiled, and then turned pale. "Watch out!" she shouted, ducking.
"Heads up!" was heard from the circle.
Mike sensed a shift in air, turned, and hit the disc that would have struck him in the head. It exploded on impact, sending shrapnel everywhere. One piece flew at Lily, about to strike her in the chest. She winced, and prepared to die.
She felt a small poke, and nothing else. She assumed she was dead. She opened her eyes, waiting to see heaven.
All she saw was Mike in front of her, his thumb and forefinger gripping the piece that would have killed Lily. After dropping the piece, he curled up his fist, extended the fingers on his hand and faced his palm upward. The chunks all came to Mike's hand, spinning rapidly. They then came together like a puzzle, spinning faster still, and finally solidified into the disc Sean had originally thrown.
Mike sent it back to the rack, and headed toward the circle, facing it this time.
Mike's group was in the middle of a math investigation, and they were maintaining their usual pace of just a bit behind the others in the class. Mike was doing what he usually did - contributing when he had an epiphany, taking in what Adam, the brains of the outfit, had to say otherwise.
In the middle of class, Mike's head snapped up. The students weren't sure what was happening, except Alicia, who recognized it immediately. Mike had sensed an unexpected energy source. His usually jovial countenance had shifted instantaneously to stoic focus. He transformed into a Super Saiyan, and took his math book. In five minutes, he used all of his focus, wrote using his newly energized hand making his handwriting more legible and still much faster, and finished the period's worth of work. He then walked to a corner of the room, and lined the corned with energy. He made a similar lining on the outside, creating a small training facility.
Mike then used it to its fullest extent, instantly becoming a Ganguro Saiyan and unleashing flurries of melee attacks so fast, that if not for the gusts of wind the group would not have had any evidence. Mike had disappeared to the naked eye, and only a nebulous ball of energy remained, twisting and bulging all the time.
Mike came back into focus, slowing down to the point of being visible again. His hands then became too fast to see once more, and energy blasts flew. On impact with the wall, they exploded, the first one clouding the air slightly. the next one made it worse, and after about ten the chamber was thick with smoke. However, Mike continued to fire them.
The teacher finally couldn't watch Mike distract her class anymore. She told them all to get to work, and knocked on Mike's chamber wall. The wall extended up and over, curving like a straw to the window. An activated aura blasted the smoke outdoors, and Mike stood in front of the group, shirt completely gone, pants badly torn in several places, and boots with holes in them.
"Welch, put some clothes on," DJ told him. The rest of the group laughed until Mike looked at DJ, white eyes staring at him. He snapped his finger, and with a quick flash his battle gear appeared - black shirt underneath a gray battle vest which was very flexible yet tough enough to literally tolerate artillery fire at point blank range, and blue pants, resembling the look and feel of jeans but as elastic as rubber and also as tough as the vest. He wore a pair of black combat boots, reinforced with energy to be even tougher than the other two articles. A shiny black wristband appeared on each arm, but these reflected more than light. They were designed to deflect energy attacks, at least small ones.
However, even Mike could not make them perfect. The vest weighed about 3000 pounds, the pants a ton, and each boot 1500 pounds. The wristbands were a svelte 500 pounds.
Mike then turned his attention back to his teacher. "What is it?" he asked.
"You can't do that," she said. "It's distracting everyone, and you being half naked when you are done only makes things worse. This is a classroom-"
Mike held up a hand, and the teacher fell silent for a moment.
"Allow me to explain," Mike said. "Somewhere in the Middle East, an army is being trained to defeat me. I was unable to feel their collective energies before, and now that I do it's frightening. There are hundreds, each capable of doing what I just did - not quite as fast or as intense, but still enough to overthrow any government."
The barrier surrounding Mike faded, then disappeared. "I'm glad you stopped me," he said to his teacher. "Now that I'm thinking again, I can gather the other Saiyans."
Mike then transmitted out of the room.