If I get too flamed for this, I'll remove it straight away.
The meditation pod sealed shut. All noise immediately ceased, all light extinguished. Just the liquid, lapping softly and slowly against her naked skin.
Banish all thoughts, banish all thoughts...hey, I did it! Oh, wait.
Her legs were crossed, her eyes closed, back straighter than a nanoruler. So why wasn't she finding anything?
She gave an annoyed yell and put a few dints in the priceless artifact.
Stupid universe. It was hiding from her.
The hatch opened with a soft hiss. A wrinkled green face, one of the museum curators, peeped his face in.
"If-if you c-co-"
"Get out!" she screamed, scrabbling to cover herself.
Pervert.
Shaking, she settled back down.Excellent, she thouht bitterly,her battle aura was turning the viscous fluid into steam. She might aswell have been in a sauna.
Several more punches redesigned the pod's side.
A brief, sickening thud later, her third eye jumped a foot to the right and she got an up close and personal look at the curator's intestinal tract.
The pod door slid up and open. A great deal of steam issued from within, followed by a hand.
"Towel," it demanded.
The curator had been hiding beneath the towel and was quite upset at having to give it up. He crept forward and cautiously placed it in the outstretched hand.
A moment later, the Saiyan stepped out, wrapped up. Her soaked tail flicked droplets of water of itself.
"I require a new pod. I've just been sick in that one."
From behind a statue of Guru III, a tiny yet somehow defiant voice said, "we d-don't have any ot-ot-other pods."
The tail moved, there was a sharp crack, and the statue of Guru III was reduced to rubble.
"Don't lie to me," she snapped, her tone venomous. "Show me now."
This better work.
She slipped into the honey-coloured liquid.
Somehow the entire infinity of the universe, the majesty of the cosmos, all failed to come to her. No matter how much she yelled at it and dented it, it still failed to work. This was confusing her somewhat- any problemin her life had always been fixed through hitting them.
The burning Saiyan rage was blinding her third eye. But there was something else.
Hormones were roaring through her system, pumping her strength and temper to new, dangerous levels. She didn't even know what a Saiyan male looked like, but she knew she needed to find one. For the future of her race, and, more importantly, for herself. And she'd kill anybody who got in her way. Anybody and any FREAKING USELESS POD!
She raised a fist to deliver the final blow to the ancient meditation pod but was stopped as a vision hit her between the eyes.
The ancient building drifted far behind. Layer after layer of atmosphere stripped away, growing thinner and darker as she neared the blackness of space.
Glancing back, the odd world, with its blue foliage and red seas, was getting smaller and smaller.
The last vestiges of ozone fell away and she was into the full coldness and emptiness of space.
In the blink of an eye, a great, great, great, great distance moved past.
She seemed to be focusing in on a single, dim star in a vast cluster.
She swept into our solar system. Planets of all sizes and colours swept past her. All were incapable of bearing life, and on each she sensed nothing.
The seventh planet in, however, showed promise. A tiny, blue speck, scudded with white wisps of clouds. Continents of greenand sea of blue seperated as she neared. She swam down through the atmosphere, drawn on the tracks she was set towards a continent...which became a mountain range...a single mountain, illuminated by the early morning sun peering over the jagged peak...the foot of it.
There, hidden away at the edges of a wood, she spied her final destination. A small house, for a family of three or less, and bulbous in construction, like a couple of solid white bubbles on the land.
Ghostlike, she drifted through the roof.
A bedroom, darkened by closed blinds, piles off books rising out of a clothes strewn floor. Posters, a dart board and an array of melee weapons lined the walls.
She drifted over the bed and her eyes filled with lust. A Saiyan boy writhed on the mattress. His body, well built and beautiful, was half-naked.
"I want. I want!" she gasped, clawing at him with spectral hands.
The boy smiled in his sleep and twisted, a strand of sweat-laden black hair falling over his face. He licked his dry lips in his sleep, rubbed at his eyes as he started to rouse.
"I want! I want!" she screamed, wishing above all else to wake the Saiyan, to be able to touch him.
"Gohan! School!"
At the other female's call, the boy's eyes sprang open. He rose, passed straight through her, and her dream ended.
She yawned and sat up in the pod.
The curator hung near the door, a wizened green hand resting on the doorway in hesitation. Should he run now? Or should he stay and suffer the screaming demon's wrath when she returned?
The desperate screams of 'I want' had come to an end. He didn't know if that was good or bad.
Probably bad, knowing his luck.
Bang! The hatch exploded outwards, expelling a blazing red and soaking wet girl who hung in the air. Her exultant laughter echoed around the dusty hall. The curator quailed.
"I have his name," she laughed. "His name is Gohan."
"G-Gohan? By the dragon! You're looking to-!"
He stopped himself, but it was too late. The girl swung down on him, grabbing his neck in a vicious grip.
"You know who Gohan is! Where is he!"
The mighty and terrible Saiyan Empire. Once it had threatened the entire Sector. And this girl aimed to return it to what it had been. He shuddered.
"I'll never tell you," were his last words.
She incinerated him with a finger, then went to look for somebody of more use.
Further down the blue valley, she came across a city and began questioning the inhabitants. None of them would tell her either.
"Please, desist immediately!"
"Your soldiers are pathetic."
She wrapped her tail around his head, held his neck and pulled. The soldier gave a pained gurgle as his vertebra snapped apart.
"What is it you want?"
She turned to look at the newcomer. He was ridiculously fat, lying in a portable, hover chair, practically struggling to breathe. A guard surrounded him, guns pointed uselessly at her.
"Gohan. I want Gohan."
"Stop what you're doing and we'll talk."
The quivering body dropped to her feet. The fat man ordered some of his people to collect him.
"Where?"
"We will tell you." At this, there was an uproar from a dozen advisors. He raised a hand (with great effort) to silence them. "'I'm sure if we didn't tell you then someone else would, in time. However, we require something in return, assurance that history will not be repeated. Assurance that this-" He gestured around at the burning ruins of the city and the hundreds of casualties. "-will not happen amillionfold. Should the Saiyan race rise once more, they must be our allies. That is all we ask."
"We ally with nobody. Our pride is-"
"Then you shall not know the boy's location. Goodbye."
He turned to leave.
Damn them! Was she really that desperate? The pride of her entire race...
The pride of the race or its future?
"I will destroy this entire city!" she roared.
"Very well," said the retreating back of Guru VI calmly.
Memories of the dream raced through her mind.
"W-wait."
The hover chair slowed. Guru VI turned his flabby neck to stare at her.
"You'll give me your best transport to him and I will...give our allegiance."
Guru VI gave a silent sigh of relief. Thank the dragon that had worked.
"We have a deal."
A mile over the surface of the pleasant, little green planet known as Earth, a fuzzy shape appeared in the air and eventually formed itself into a warrior-looking, tall, green man, holding the hand of the Saiyan female. There was a soft crackle of either bubble wrap or fingers.
"So this is Earth?" the Saiyan said, disapproval in her voice. "These lifeforms are weak. I can barely feel them at all."
"Do you sense the Saiyan?" the Namek asked, cradling his broken hand.
She turned in a full circle. Everywhere she looked, the creatures were feeble things, barely giving out more energy than plants
They'd brought her to the wrong planet!
In anger, she cupped a hand, summoned an energy ball and flung it at the Namek.
It passed through nothing. He'd gone. Left her.
The ball of purple energy continued on, falling in a gentle arc towards a group of tall buildings on the horizon. It was low power, but enough to wipe out any life there. That would only begin to sooth her anger.
A sudden energy rise flared in the doomed city. Her ball, less than a few metres from the earth, rebounded off something, and soared up into the clouds.
The Saiyan! It had to be: nothing else could wield such power.
She powered up to her highest level, calling him. She could feel him coming to her...
A short, bald man dropped out of supersonic flight and hung in the air in front of her.
"There are innocent people in that city!" he wailed in a weedy voice. "Who are you!"
The momentary joy faded, leaving behind the anger of before.
"Kirei. I've come to find Gohan. Is he on this planet or can I destroy it?"
"Gohan?" the little guy squeaked. "What do you want him for?"
She told him. He turned bright red, making him resemble a cherry.
"You're a Saiyan, then?"
She showed him the tail. Something about it seemed to scare the crap out of him.
"Take me to him."
"R-right. Those were kinda my thoughts too. Follow me."
He powered up and flew off. She did the same and followed him. This guy was fast. She struggled to keep up with him. Not that she was going to tell him that.
"Why did you attack the city?" he asked as they passed over it.
"It was an accident. Why did you save them?"
"They're my friends. Don't you have friends?"
"I-I have friends," she declared adamantly. "I have loads of friends."
"Well, my names Krillen."
He was dropping down through the clouds. Something started to burn inside. The fur on her tail stood on edge. They were getting close.
A relaxing buzz grew in her throat. Placing her hand to her neck, she found it vibrating softly. It felt...nice.
She half closed her eyes, loosing herself in the peace that filled her. All the pent up rage, every last shred of it that had consumed her body for the last three years was finally gone.
Even when the man yelled at her, it seemed distant and unimportant.
"Mmm?"
"You nearly hit a plane."
"Is that bad?"
A distant rumble and the smell of aviation fuel filled the air.
"Smells good," she sighed.
"We're nearly there."
It was like in her dream: she knew exactly where to go.
His yell of "wait!", distorted through speed, disappeared. She zoomed through the air, through leaves, branches, tree trunks. Her feet came into contact with the ground and she allowed her power to subside.
Opening her eyes, she saw the two bubble house at the centre of the clearing in which she stood. Dreamlike, her feet barely touching the ground, she drifted across the clearing.
A door blocked her way into the house: a gentle tug removed it. She stepped in. Across the living room, another door. Behind it she could feel her mate. The hum in her throat grew to a definite purr.
She reached the door. She pushed it gently and it swung open.
"Gohan?" she murmured.
There he lay on the bed, ready for her, waiting, beautiful. The future of her race in all its glory. She could smell his excitement, the adrenaline coursing through him already.
But something was wrong. In her almost animalistic mind, something was obstructing the perfect dream. The thing Gohan was half laid over. That was the problem.
Reality returned with a vengeance.
The thing on the bed, she thought. The thing on the bed. The moaning thing on the bed. The moaning, giggling, female thing...on the bed...under her Gohan.
"Videl," her Gohan growled, as he nibbled at the tender skin on her stomach.
And then he noticed Kirei. He reeled off the female in surprise.
"Geez, I thought you were my mother."
"Gohan," the bitch on the bed said. "Why's she got a tail?"
She wasn't angry yet. She was still in shock. But there was a great deal of anger and power building up somewhere, a huge tidal wave of hate and jealousy, ready to smash down all sense, reason, and physical boundaries.
The purr had stopped, replaced by a predatory growl.
"Videl, get out of here."
"But-"
"GO!"
Trunks scrambled deeper into the heart of the machine, yanking out useless pipes, tightening nuts, attacking stubborn machinery with a metal pole until they hummed or pumped or whirred.
"Mom, can you pass me the hyper-wrench?"
A wrench flew his way from somewhere else within the maze of oil-coated wires. He caught it and attached it to a stubborn screw. It whirred, unscrewing the bolt in a second but also firing it off. A pipe came loose, spewing steam over everything, mainly himself.
He fumbled for the bastard pipe, stabbing it back into the correct slot.
"I hate machinery," he growled, wiping the oil from his eyes.
"What was that, Trunks?"
"Nothin', mom. I'm going to go clean up. You want a drink or something?"
"Aww. Has poor trunks got his hair messy again?"
"Fine. No drink for you."
He slid, slipped, and stumbled for the hatchway, dropping down to the concrete beyond. He stepped back and stared up at the latest Capsule Corp creation, broken as normal, that filled the hangar.
"Beautiful, isn't she?"
"Great body work on her," Yamcha admired.
"That's not even the great part. The engine is completely revolutionary."
As if to prove a point, with a small pop the craft vanished in a puff of smoke.
Trunks smiled at the amazed look on Yamcha's face.
"Mom made it from studying Goku's translocation signature."
Yamcha nodded. "She's quite a scientist. Where exactly did she go?"
"She'll turn up."
Yamcha sighed with discontent.
"Something?"
"Nothin'"
He gave another bored sigh.
"You sound pretty bad," Trunks pressed.
"Nah. I don't want to jinx it."
"Jinx what?"
"This peace."
"You're as bored as I am, huh?"
"Nothing's tried to destroy the world in two years. I'm just feeling sort of redundant. I hate to say it, but I wish something would happen."
Trunks put the hyper-wrench on a table and headed for the showers. But the hyper-wrench jumped, twitched and rattled, as the table below it shook. It tinkled onto the floor.
Yamcha watched in shock.
"Oh, man. I DID jinx it!"
The entire building was shaking now. Car alarms were wailing in the streets. The hanger windows clattered in their frames.
Trunks turned to the Eastern mountains, where an unearthly, golden light was pouring over the tips.
"You sense that?"
"Yeah."
"That's not Gohan."
A moment's deadly pause passed between them as they caught each other's eye.
"Do you sense Gohan at all?" Yamcha asked, confirming his fears.
The two fighters ripped through the hanger walls in their rush to get to the mountains.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned
-some guy
The roar of power and exploding, boiling air expanding outwards had forced back Yamcha long ago. Trunks forced his way through with all his power towards the golden figure of energy he sensed ahead.
The country below was being utterly destroyed, if you could still call it country anymore. Chunks of earth were being ripped up and tossed away. All the trees had long since been ripped out. Streaks and balls and waves of energy cascaded over everything, turning everything into hell on Earth.
There was a loud tearing noise: his Capsule Corp black boiler suit had been torn off by the sheer hydraulic power of the escaping air. He barely registered it.
Something was growing clearer through the wavering, mass of air. An somebody, floating in the very center of the sphere of destruction. Suddenly, he powered through the maelstrom, into the calm heart of the storm. The Enemy was closer than it had seemed though the distorted air and the only thing he could think of doing, before colliding with it, was to bend low into a rugby tackle. The Enemy was ripped fromits centre of power, unnerving it and causing it to power down. They spiraled down, exchanging decimating kicks and punches, becoming entwined and confused and locked together. The earth exploded around them, sweeping out into a crater, as they hit the ground.
The thing below him was still struggling madly. Sharp nails clawed at something very dear to him and, yelling in anguish, he punched the thing hidden in the dust, grabbed it's neck, and lifted it to his face.
"Where is Gohan!"
The head lolled around and stared at him. The five marks of his last punch still glowed on her cheek.
He released her neck, holding her in his arms instead.
"What are you?"