Chapter 2: The Cost of Power:
"Hello, I'm Tianna Arced, and I am Communication Director a Capsule Corporation," A woman with curly brown hair pulled out of her face with a headband. She began to speak outside the Capsule Corps Building, a sizeable white-domed structure. "Here at Capsule Corporation, we are dedicated to revolutionizing and innovating our society to improve the quality of life at the macro and micro levels."
The Woman thumbed behind her to the giant glass doors at the main entrance of Capsule Corps. "Let's go inside to show you what we've been working on." The doors to Capsule Corps swooshed open, and Tianna walked in with the camera following her. "As you can see, we enter the Capsule Production Area just past the reception. This is where the magic happens." Tianna said with a wink.
She walked up to the viewing area that looked down into the Capsule Production plant. The Camera walking gives the audience the impression that the audience is in the room with her.
"Now, you'll first notice that the process is completely automated. That's right, our very own CEO Bulma Briefs wrote a sophisticated AI to handle capsule production. So none of our nasty competition would try and still our prized technology and gouge our valued customers. Isn't she just the best. And can you believe it: Dr. Bulma Briefs is only twenty-eight years old. Truly an inspiration to all little girls out there. I speak for the Capsule Corps family when I say, " Keep kicking ass Bulma Briefs."
A quick cut into the footage. Tianna is now dressed in PPE gear inside the production facility. "Now, as you see, our Capsules are produced in a spotless environment to deliver the highest quality product possible to our valued customers."
Another cut as Tianna is outside behind Capsule Corps with the space pads as a backdrop. "Aren't the Capsules just great," Tianna said, holding up a tiny red and yellow capsule; she clicked the capsule, and a sandwich popped out. She took a significant bit of. "You just can't beat the convenience." Tianna chewed and swallowed the sandwich the repackaged it back into the capsule. "Just so nifty." She said, tossing the capsule in her hand and catching it.
"Oh, lookie here," Tianna said with wide eyes. She walked up to the camera and turned it one hundred and eighty degrees out into the forest that shielded Capsule Corps from the public. "A rare sighting of our founder, Dr. Briefs. C'mon, let's go say hello." Tianna said, jogging into the trees towards Dr. Briefs.
Dr. Brief had shaggy gray-blue hair with a thick bushy mustache; he wore an ink-stained lab cot and pink bedroom slippers. He is currently walking his cat. "Hello, Briefs," Tianna said as she approached, pretending to be out of breath.
"Well, hello, Tianna." Dr. Briefs said.
"I was just curious if you had anything to say to our investors?" Tianna asked, having 'caught' her breath now.
"Oh, our investors, yes I do." Dr. Briefs said, looking into the camera. "Is that thing on?" The camera nodded in the affirmative. "Good, Yes, investors, give us your money." He said bluntly. The scene sat on him deadpan for a moment before cutting back to the space pads with Tianna standing in front of them.
"Well said, Dr. Briefs, and to our valued investors, you'll want to give us your money," Tianna said, thumbing the space pads behind her. "You see when we cornered the market on our Capsule technology. Then, using that same technology and the money made from said technology, we could revolutionize space exploration."
"From our drones exploring our nearest planetary neighbors." Images from Earth's nearby celestial bodies rolled across the screen. "To probing deep space and discovering what secrets lie beyond our Heliosphere," Tianna said. "Our ventures in space will change how we think about ourselves as a people. So if you want to get one board, then to quote our esteemed doctor, 'Give us your money.'"
The screen cut to a full breakdown of Capsule Corps Space ventures before cutting back to Tianna. Tianna stood in front of a red-painted still door with the words R&D written in baby blue lettering. "And we are at the last stop on this investor tourtravaganza; this is the room where miracles happen. The Research and Development department, If I was a betting gal, and I am, our very own CEO Bulma Briefs is in their grinding out of the next big thing."
As Tianna finished, a loud explosion was heard from inside the room, with a thick white smoke leaking through the door. "Ooooh, see, told ya, the R&D is always S-P-ICY." Another cut is as the cameraman starts to suffocate on the smoke as billows out the door.
Back out front, this time in the garden. "At Capsule Corps, we are dedicated to solving society's biggest problems. With our Capsule technology, we were able to completely transform our society. Expensive space-consuming storage solutions are a thing of the past. The transportation and Supply Chain have been simplified so that even the most remote market can maintain considerable stock. Maladies like drought, famine, and plague are left in the past. And as we look to solve future issues, Capsule Corps wants to bring you, the investors, along with us. As always, we are Building for the future In the Now. I am Tianna Arced, Communications Director for Capsule Corps. And I wish you all the warmest welcome to the future." She finished a well-produced trailer of all of the capsule corps project plays.
Bulma took a long drag of her cigarette, knocking some of the ash off in her Dragon Ball-shaped ashtray. Look at the monitor, her head throbbing. The past few days tried her patience. Then, just when I thought I had made a breakthrough, I ran into another roadblock.
Bulma wasn't used to failing. A pretty headstrong woman, she was used to getting her way, but for her life, she could not figure out why the Ki amplifiers she installed in Yamcha fried. He nearly lost his arms.
She looked over to the gurney her lover sat on, his hands heavily bandaged. Yamcha. Bulma managed to save his arms, but the recovery would take several weeks, Even for a superhuman like you. I should have caught the malfunction sooner. Stop Bulma. It's not logical to blame yourself. But when it came to Yamcha, logic was rarely involved.
They were not the perfect couple. But Yamcha was hers, and she hurt him. Earlier, their relationship was strained; Yamcha would be off training for the next tournament, leaving Bulma by herself for weeks and months. So the few precious days they spent together were spent fighting about how often Yamcha was gone. Of course, I was not much better; I spent days in the lab with no shower and sleep. Whew, I was a mess.
In their mid-twenties, the two matured into a healthy relationship built on communication and the time they spent together. Though this came at the cost of Yamcha's self-esteem. Despite being one of the Master Roshi students, Yamcha could not keep up with Krillin and Chi-Chi – no matter how hard he trained. Then there was the matter of Tien.
Fuck Tien; Bulma took another drag on her cigarette; She ran her hand through her long windswept blue hair. Her shirt was stained with sweat as she had not left the lab since Yamcha's injury. How could she? It was her fault. So just like when she first became the CEO of Capsule Corps, she spent many sleepless nights obsessed over a project. But this was okay because Yamcha was with her.
Yamcha came to her one night two years ago drunk and broken. It finally got to him that he could never catch his friends. It was also a wake-up call for Bulma. She did not know how much falling behind bothered him. And with him training less and spending more time with Bulma, he was only going to fall further behind.
So Bulma did what she did best – she went to work. Her first task was understanding the nature of energy, but that proved damn near impossible. Master Roshi was useless with all his talk about breath and magics. Krillin was no help either. Of course, Yamcha being trained by Roshi was equally as useless – but at least it wasn't his fault.
"Damn, Mystics are never interested in actually solving anything. They are all about feelings," Bulma snidely, taking another puff of her cigarette. Looking through the data, she gathered the Ki amplifiers should have worked. Still, for whatever reason, they overheated and became bombs. Yamcha shouldn't have enough power to compromise the amps.
"Maybe I am just misunderstanding Ki." This was likely because Bulma couldn't access it herself, relying on secondhand observation. With none of her instruments able to measure it, she hit a wall. And it doing so was letting Yamcha down.
After getting Yamcha to bed that night two years ago, Bulma resolved herself she'd do everything in her power to help Yamcha increase in power. Now Bulma wasn't a fighter; the only martial arts she knew was tai chi, so it was unlikely that she would ever be able to harness it. Still, Bulma was intelligent and creative. So she would figure out if there was a technological solution to this issue.
"What if I've been thinking about this all wrong. Yamcha describes energy as breathing, and I assumed that meant he was bringing in externally." Bulma said, looking at the telemetry data from the implants. This is easier if a scientist went and learned from Roshi, but given how long this shit takes to learn, it is hard to do both.
Yamcha was reluctant at first. He didn't want his power to come artificially. Blah, blah, blah, it would disgrace my warrior pride. Bulma reminisced. She did not have much patience for that nonsense, especially with Bulma's effort to figure out how to combine Ki and technology.
It took a year for the first breakthrough to happen. Using a device with two charged plates sealed in a vacuum. Bulma found that energy could pass into the if, and she could add a charge to the Ki and increase the energy output by at least two and half times. The big drawback is that the machine had to be a person's size. But with a device that worked, Bulma felt like she had a heading.
That is till today. Now Yamcha is lying on a gurney unconscious, and Bulma is left lost in the doldrums waiting for a gust that will never come. "So if I was wrong and Yamcha wasn't literally breathing in energy, then does it all come from within?"
The first time Yamcha pumped his energy in the amplifier, Bulma remembered his look when he saw the intensity in the output. After that, he believed he could catch up and matter again, and I took that belief and blew up his damn hands.
Bulma felt a tear slip down her face. It was not the first she had cried over the last three days; it probably would not be the last. Don't get lost in the grief; you gotta figure this out. Yamcha is counting on you.
"So if the energy is already inside or mostly inside of Yamcha. Then I wonder if it works as a system." Bulma said, looking through the data again. "If it cycles through like the circulatory system, then the continual cyclical progression of energy almost certainly is responsible for the overheating.
"So, how do I correct for that," Bulma said, pulling out another cigarette. Typically, she was only an occasional smoker, a habit she picked up from her father, but she averaged over a pack today since the accident.
"Any correction for that would be pretty severe as I'd have to cut the flow of energy somewhere to prevent the inevitable build-up and subsequent explosion." Bulma flinched a boom, and a flash of bloodshot through her mind. Then, shaking the thoughts from her head, she leaned back into the chair and blew a puff of smoke towards the ceiling.
Around three months ago, Bulma finally had the breakthrough she needed. She figured out how to get the amplifier small enough to fit on his wrist. She couldn't wait to see his face as the others complimented how strong he got. But, of course, Yamaha wanted the implements right then and there. Once reluctant, the prospect of feeling that power made him salivate. However, Bulma still had run a series of tests to ensure it was safe.
For what good that did. Bulma was convinced after dozens of tests that it was safe enough to get installed into his wrist. First, however, the scientist Bulma wanted a baseline to determine how much the amplifiers increased Yamcha's power level. So she set up a machine that measured Yamcha's punching power.
Yamcha powered up to full power and gave it all. As Bulma described, his punch registered a two-hundred and twenty-five pp or punching power. The punching power was determined by a comprehensive algorithm that combined several currently measured methods of determining a punch. While also taking into the amount of energy used in the force. This stat is derived by calculating the charged particle in the air. Gives a complete picture of precisely how hard the punch was thrown. Therefore, she would know exactly how the amplifiers powered up Yamcha's punching power. I should have started studying this Ki shit decade ago; I'd have it figured out by now.
With the test run, and a baseline established, Bulma and Yamcha decided to go ahead and begin the installation of the implants. So Yamcha went under the knife. The surgery was brief and routine. Initial tests went well, then all hell broke loose.
"Alright, Yamcha, let me know how you're feeling," Bulma asked through a loudspeaker. She sat on an observation deck overlooking the research and development lab. He felt the implants engage within a mounted robotic arm wheel away from Yamcha.
"Oh, am I supposed to be able to feel them," Yamcha asked, looking at the incisions on his wrists? Bulma looked at a monitor and went down the telemetry data the implants were giving off.
"All's nominal so far. You're good." Bulma said. Though he shouldn't be able to feel them until he powers up.
"Okay, then I feel fine. I mean, I gotta piss, but you can't complain." Yamcha said. He was dressed in his boxers and spent four hours on the operating table. It was just not suitable for a man's bladder.
"Well, hold it. Will ya." Bulma said as she finished imputing a few commands on her keyboard. Yamcha started to complain some more, but Bulma cut him off. "Alright, go ahead and send some power through."
"Sure thing Babe, all out or just a tease," Yamcha said, standing up off the table, looking up to the observation deck, and shooting a Bulma a wink. She couldn't help but smile.
Such a goof. "Dealers Choice," Bulma said, grabbing a notepad and a pen, readying herself to jot down readings as they came through.
"Just the way I like it, all out it is," Yamcha said; taking a deep breath, he clenched his fist and let out his breath. As he did, the energy began to surge within him. Familiar power, but there was more to it. He could feel the surge in his wrist that increased energy flowing through him, empowering him. Like with the larger device, Yamcha could feel his energy surge past Krillin and Tien's Ki. As he was now, his power may have rivaled Master Roshi.
He wanted to dance, fight, and – well, other things. He looked up to Bulma, and his heart fluttered; this was all because of her. He levitated up to the observation deck. He presented himself to Bulma by doing different poses in his skimpy. "What do you think?"
"Looking good hot stuff," Bulma said, taking a second to admire her partner. Yamcha pushed himself over to the glass and planted a kiss right before Bulma. Such a lovable goof. Bulma thought.
"I love you." He said. Bulma looked up from her notes taken back by the declaration. She slid the pen into her coat pocket and kissed her fingers, pressing them against the glass.
"I love you too," Bulma said. She found tears forming in her eyes. This culmination of two years' worth of work, not for profit but for love. Yamcha was smiling again; that made this all worth it. She looked up to see Yamcha blushing. "Go show off for me," Bulma said, shaking Yamcha from his stupor.
"Just wait till you see what I can do," Yamcha said, turning on a one-eighty and dashing full speed towards the punching machine. He landed and unleashed the rest of his power. His blue aura flared out around him. He let his muscles relax, and his aura sunk back into him. Then everything started to go wrong.
Yamcha felt a slight burning where the impact from the beginning but ignored it after Bulma said everything was nominal. As he continued to power up, the burning kept intensifying. It was not a minor discomfort was becoming an intense pain.
Meanwhile, a red light flashed on the Bulma monitor, and a buzzing alarm sounded from the computer speaker. Bulma glanced down and immediately noticed that the heat relegation in the devices was essentially not working. And with the volatile nature of ki.
Bulma dropped her notepad and rushed out of the observation deck onto the landing platform. "Yamcha, power down now!" She screamed, but it was already too late.
Yamcha was screaming, his skin starting to combust from the extreme heat. Bulma could do nothing but watch as the amplifiers hit critical mass. The explosion sent Bulma crashing against the wall. And as she
Lost consciousness, a very bloody Yamcha dragged her to safety. A cloud of white smoke filled the room.
"If I add a regulator around the center of mass," Bulma said, looking over her readouts. "But that is a hell of a messy surgery." Bulma looked at Yamcha sleeping, a peaceful expression on his face.
A week passed before the Desert Bandit regained consciousness. Bulma looked up from her notes, seeing Yamcha stir; tears filled her eyes. She rushed over to her partner. His hands were still bandaged, and several Iv's were stuck in his arm. Yet, Yamcha still managed to look strong.
"Bulma." He croaked out. Bulma was immediately at his side.
"Yes?" She said
"I really need to take a piss." Bulma let out a sigh and playfully palmed his face. She rested her face on his shoulder, her hand caressing Yamcha's cheek. "You'd figure it out, didn't you?"
"Yeah, I did," Bulma said, her fingers tracing his jawline; the two sat silently for a while. Then, finally, Yamcha fell back asleep with a serene smile. For the first time since the ordeal, Bulma allowed herself to rest