Ascension, Part VI

Chapter 13

Tota, a mother of three who lives in the southern part of the Saiyan quarter in West City, hasn’t seen her oldest daughter Totari in almost six weeks.

“She left for school just like any other day,” she said, describing the last time she saw her daughter. “She has Battle Ball practice after school, so when she didn’t come home right away I didn’t give it a second thought. I left for work, came home and went straight to sleep like usual. When I went to her room to make sure she was up for the school day, that’s when I noticed she was gone.

“She’s a good kid, never been in trouble, never been rebellious. She wouldn’t run away. I try to keep my hopes up, but I know something has happened to my baby.”

Totari was the 12th Saiyan youth reported missing in the last year. It’s possible that even more have disappeared, and they haven’t been reported.

–Unpublished story, “Where Have All the Children Gone? An In-Depth Report on Missing Saiyan Children”

Reene’s eyes were beginning to water as she stared at her computer screen. She’d been reading for almost three hours straight, going through page after page of Saiyan history. Will had managed to sneak out 43 data rods from the Royal Library, and each of those contained thousands of images, documents and videos that had been downloaded from the memory of the remaining Saiyan capsule. 

After things had been smoothed over between her, Jicama and Piña, who swore on his own life that his bawdy suggestion was only made to get a rise out of them, they’d split the rods up between themselves. Each was tasked with surveying the vast amount of data, and picking out only the most interesting and important information to share with the rest of the group. One question remained though- would they share their findings with Arula, who would certainly ask how they got it. But that could wait until they were done. 

Justin stirred in the cubicle next to her, drumming on his desk as he stared at the ceiling. Reene did her best to ignore him, but she kept finding herself looking over at him. His brown skin glistened under the fluorescent light. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a strong jawline that couldn’t be hidden even by his full beard. Mostly though she couldn’t stop staring at his eyes, hazel brown orbs that allowed light to pass through easily and made them shine even brighter. He’d mentioned offhandedly that he’d stopped seeing the woman he’d been dating for the last couple of months. Too clingy, he’d said. So Reene had tried to play it very cool with him, laughing at his jokes but not asking him too many questions, peering in his direction and turning away when he looked back.

She shook her head. Focus, she told herself. She’d managed to get through seven data rods in the last three days, although it meant that she’d virtually ignored her regular work. That was fine, she smirked to herself, because she had an intern to pick up her slack. Celer was hard at work on his story, but he would put it on the back burner if she made him. And if he showed up to work today.

Reene wiped away the teariness in her eyes again as she came to a document titled “Zenkai.” It was embossed with a red sigil in the upper right hand corner. Reene didn’t know what the symbol meant, but she’d figured out that such documents were particularly important, speculating that they may have been government documents from the Saiyan homeworld. She read the page carefully. 

“Saiyans have always exhibited strong battle power, but there are many races we’ve encountered in our work with similar strength. What sets Saiyans apart is our potential for growth when it comes to battle power,” the document read. “When a Saiyan recovers from a near death experience in battle, their power increases dramatically, sometimes jumping by as much as 50%. This ability has not been observed in other races that we’ve conquered over the years. This ability has been named ‘zenkai’ by the low-class warriors who most often encounter it, and it has been confirmed by testing directed by King Vegeta. In short, the fiercer the fight, the stronger we become.”

Reene balked at what she’d read, and reread it again to make sure she’d understood it correctly. 50%?! Reene could tell that she’d grown much stronger in the months that she’d been training with Arula and the rest, and here was a way to take those gains even further. But it required her to push herself, and the others, to the absolute limit, the brink of death. Was power worth that risk?

She leaned back in her chair for a moment. Was she willing to put her life on the line to get stronger? The question felt like a metaphor for her whole life. Where other Saiyans went into physical fields, either through choice or necessity, she sat behind a desk all day. She wrote about the challenges her people faced instead of doing something about it. She pined for a human boy who basically ignored her and who she didn’t have the courage to talk to. 

What am I, she wondered. Am I a human, or a Saiyan? Will and Jicama both seemed to know the answer for themselves, although they answered in opposite ways. She still hadn’t decided yet, and now she felt it was time. Time to kill herself, one way or the other, no matter how painful it would be. She had to go through with it, because it was all that she could do.

Reene stood up. She felt her heart beating out of her chest, feeling her pulse in her hands. Her mouth was dry, and her knees were shaking. For a moment, she went back to sit down, but steeled herself. She walked the couple of steps over to Justin’s cubicle.

“Hey, what’s up?” she asked. He stopped drumming and looked at her.

“Nothing much. Waiting for this jerk to call me back about the Watkins story.”

“Ah, okay,” Reene said, nodding slowly. The words were caught in her throat, like a dry lump that she kept trying to force back up.

“Is there something you need?”

“Yeah, do you want to go with me to watch a movie sometime?” she blurted out.

Justin yawned. “Sure. Who else is coming?”

Reene knew wahat was coming next, but she had to keep going. “No, I mean just you and me. Like a date.”

Justin’s eyes went wide, and he sat forward. “Oh…um, no thanks then.”

Her heart fell into her feet. Her stomach felt like a collapsed star, sucking in all the light and courage she’d felt just a few moments ago. “Oh, okay,” she said smally.

“You’re cool Reene, but I’m just not into Saiyans,” he said as an apology. 

She didn’t know if he’d said that to make her feel better, but it had a very different effect. The star inside of her reignited, instantly flashing into a white-hot core of anger and embarrassment. How could she think that a human would love her? How could she want a human to love her? Jicama and Piña knew. They loved each other the way that only people who understood what it meant to be a Saiyan could. And here she was asking for something that could never be, because she was trying to be something that she wasn’t.

“Okay, I get it.” She turned and went back to her seat. Rubbing away a different kind of tears in her eyes, she read the page on Zenkai in front of her over and over and over.

***

Arula stood before the four of them, her brow furrowed in frustration. She held a makeshift tome in her hands, filled with pages of mismatched size, folded diagrams and images, stapled together in places and bound in others, all held together with thick string that looped through holes punched in all the pages. It was the result the four’s tireless scouring of the data rods, nearly 1200 pages of what they thought were the most important elements of Saiyan history and culture. On the front was the royal seal from the home planet of their ancestors, a place called Vegeta, after its king.

“This…this is a magnificent piece of work,” Reene said finally after thumbing through the pages silently. “There’s more information here than anyone outside the government has ever seen. Enough here to get all of you put in a maximum security prison for the rest of your lives.”

She glared at them. Will shrank, and Piña looked down. Only Reene and Jicama returned her gaze. “Do you have any idea what would happen if the humans found out you stole this?”

“But they won’t find out,” Reene said. “They don’t even know we were there.”

“How do you know that?” Arula snapped. Reene flinched. She’d never heard Arula yell before. She was always so cool-headed and wise that Reene had almost forgotten that she possessed the same eruptive temper that characterized their race. “Can you guarantee that no one saw you? That they don’t realize that dozens of data rods are missing? Can you?”

“No,” Reene said, lowering her head.

“Then don’t tell me they won’t find out. And if they do–”

“What?” Jicama said, looking Arula in the eye. “They’ll do what? More of what they’re already doing?” He stepped forward, and stopped directly in front of Arula. “The humans are about to start counting and cataloging us. They’re already attacking us on the streets. What exactly do you think is going to get so much worse just because we stole our history back from them?” Arula was so surprised by his direct challenge to her that she didn’t respond. 

“We respect you, Arula. You are our first teacher in what it means to be a Saiyan. But you don’t have all the answers. There are things that we want to know, that we need to know. We brought this information to you as a sign of the trust we have in you. You may be our teacher, but we are not children. We didn’t come here to be chastised. We came here to share knowledge. If you wish to learn with us, we would be happy to have your guidance. But one way or another, we will learn everything about our history.” Reene’s mouth was on the floor. She couldn’t believe how he was speaking to Arula. She found herself in complete agreement though.

Arula regarded him coolly, and a smirk formed on her face. “I knew you would be the first to challenge me directly,” she said approvingly. “You’re not children. You made a decision, and you respected me and yourselves enough to bring it to me directly. I’m more impressed by that than your successful little heist,” she said. Even from where she stood, she could see the tension in Jicama’s body release. For all his talk, he still wanted Arula’s approval. They all did.

“And unfortunately, you’re right,” Arula said. “The explosion at the rally has changed things. I expect the government to announce the start of the census any day now. Saiyans all over the kingdom are going to have to decide whether they’re going to cooperate or not. And when security forces start showing up at people’s doors to force them to be counted, things will get out of hand very quickly.”

“They’re already out of hand,” Will said. “The kids at school are talking about human gangs walking around their neighborhoods. The Night Watch is out on regular days now, and something called the Red Ribbon Defense League.”

Arula sighed. “I’d hoped to teach you a new technique after our tournament, but now is as good a time as any. You need to know how to protect yourselves if things start to get dangerous.” Arula handed the book back to Reene. “I need you all to step back.” 

The four of them stepped back a few meters, until Arula was completely alone. “Before I begin, is Celer coming today? I think he’s ready to learn this.”

“I haven’t seen Celer in a couple days. I figured he’s sick,” Will said. Reene shot a concerned look in his direction. He hadn’t been to school either?

“Okay. The incident at the political rally is not what the humans think it is,” Arula said. “It’s not an explosion. It’s an activation.”

“Activation of what?” Piña asked. 

“It will probably be easier for me to show you than to try and explain. Use your energy sensing techniques so that you can follow what happens,” Arula said. Reene had been practicing the technique as often as she could, and had learned how to see the energy of others while still keeping her eyes open. It was like an overlay on her usual vision that she could switch on and off. Arula stood before her, wearing her usual training outfit, the same purple Capsule Corp. t-shirt and leggings she’d had on when they’d met all those months ago. She could also see the small but intense white flame inside of her. 

Arula closed her eyes and breathed in slowly, taking deep breaths. It was as if she were directing the oxygen onto her flame, as it grew larger and more intense with each breath. Soon it filled her entire abdomen, and Reene could feel something like heat emanating from Arula’s body. The flame kept growing, expanding into her chest, stretching out into her shoulders, arms, thighs and legs. Soon her whole body was filled with the white energy, and Reene almost had to look away because of its brightness and intensity. She wondered where else the flame could go, and as she made the realization, Arula let out a short yell.

“Hyaa!” And with a flash, the energy from inside her rushed out, blasting away all the debris and dirt that had gathered over time in their training sessions. Reene put her arm over her eyes to protect herself from the searing light, but this was something she couldn’t shield her senses from. When Reene refocused, it looked as if Arula was on fire herself. Her energy leapt from her frame in white hot tendrils, and spikes of power reached into the air above her. She was wrapped in the glow, and the four of them could only stare in awe as their minds tried to make sense of what they were witnessing.

“This is the power of aura,” Arula said. “It’s a powerful technique that ignites your own energy, amplifying it and making you even more powerful. It’s invisible to those who haven’t trained to see energy, but you all can detect it.

“Saiyans haven’t been exploding,” she explained. “Their aura activates suddenly when they are placed in dangerous or stressful situations. They don’t know about it, so they can’t control it, and it manifests suddenly and violently with tremendous force. The activation looks like an explosion, but to anyone with training, they would see a sudden aura manifest and then dissipate just as quickly. I’m going to teach you how to manifest and sustain this power”

Reene nodded slowly in understanding, though she was still shocked by the level of power she saw in front of her. Arula was so much stronger than she’d imagined. This was what she’d hit her with the last time they fought? It was a wonder I survived, Reene realized. Just as quickly though came another thought. If she could learn this, combined with zenkai, how powerful could she herself become? A grin spread across Reene’s face, and as she looked at the others, she saw the same gears turning behind their silly smiles. It was time to reach the next level.

***

The King’s Council Room was a magnificent space by anyone’s standards. The cathedral ceiling rose ten meters, with intricate designs etched into the gold and silver rib vaults that supported it. Corinthian columns, topped with highly detailed capstones that showed the various kings of the past in relief soared above the gathered crowd of parliamentarians and media personalities. Serrin was always a little intimidated when she entered the room, as members of parliament were only welcome by request from the King himself, a bit of tit-for-tat since the King was technically barred from entering the parliament without an invitation. 

She leaned heavily on the aluminum cane she’d received after leaving the hospital as she walked to the throne that sat slightly elevated at the far end of the room. The doctors had told her repeatedly that she didn’t need a cane, but she lived by the famous adage to never let a good disaster go to waste. She would use every opportunity and optic to remind the people of what the Saiyans had cost her. 

King Furry was already standing in front of the throne, where dozens of microphones and other recording devices towered over him like the canopy of an electronic forest. Like his predecessors, the king was barely a meter and a half tall, although he had forgone the distinguished look of glasses that previous kings sported in favor of eye surgery. Other than that, and the slight purplish hue of his fur compared to the blueish grey shine of other kings, he was virtually indistinguishable from Furrys past. He was flanked by Parliamentarians Soot and Bell. Soot, despite the horrific nature of his injuries, looked no worse for wear after the kingdom’s greatest reconstructive surgeons had finished with him. Bell, who looked like he was being held against his will with the other government ministers and dignitaries, scoffed when he saw Serrin with her cane, but immediately regretted it as photographers snapped a multitude of pictures of his moment of indiscretion. He offered his hand to Serrin to help her up the small set of stairs to the throne, hoping that image would make the news cycle instead. Serrin graciously took his hand, making a great show of struggling up the stairs. She would throw him a bone.

“Hear ye, hear ye! His Majesty, the Most Excellent, Revered and Exalted, King Furry XII shall now make his proclamation,” a Royal Guard shouted. “Be still your mouths and your heart, as His Majesty speaks!”

The room stood at attention as the King approached the microphones, moving a small stepping stool into position to reach them. He cleared his throat, then gestured for the gathered guests to take their seats. He cleared his throat, then began speaking in a slow, clear baritone.

“By the power vested in me by the Royal Charter of the Furry Kingdom, I hereby authorize the first nationwide census to be undertaken, effective immediately. This Royal Decree stands as law until rescinded by future decree, or overruled by the will of the Parliament. The details will be explained by Parliamentarians Serrin and Bell.” Furry stepped down from his stool and retreated to his throne, as Serrin and Bell stepped forward.

“Thank you, your Majesty,” Serrin said. “The census will be carried out in two phases. First, questionnaires will be mailed to every citizen in the kingdom. These forms will ask for basic, mandatory information about the demographic makeup of each household, including age, race, gender and employment. Optional questions will include income, education, marital status and other data. Citizens will have two weeks to complete these questions, and mail them back to a central processing center that will be listed on the forms.

Once these questionnaires are received, phase two will begin. In areas where responses are low, or that cannot be reached by normal mail, we will dispatch census agents who will go door to door to ask for information. The questions they ask will be the same as those on the forms.”

“These agents are civilian volunteers and will be unarmed,” Bell said. “We’re working with multiple groups to ensure we have a representative body of volunteers who will be visiting neighborhoods and rural areas that may not be counted correctly.”

The press corp erupted, with hands waving frantically and questions shouted in a storm of noise.

“If the volunteers are unarmed, how will they protect themselves?”

“We don’t anticipate those kinds of issues,” Serrin said. “After all, these are just regular people carrying computers and clipboards. But if trouble arises, the Royal Guard will be on standby to respond. Additionally, we’ve authorized local Night Watch members to also respond to any general calls for assistance.”

“What if residents don’t want to respond? Do they have the right to refuse?”

“This is a royal decree, which carries the force of law. Refusal to respond can result in legal action, including fines and even arrest.”

“Is this a response to the recent spate of Saiyan incidents across the kingdom? Are you trying to get a handle on what to do with this growing population?”

“As a victim of a recent Saiyan accident,” Serrin said, gesturing towards her leg, “I want to say that I have no animosity towards Saiyans. Most of them are decent, hardworking people that want the same things for their families that the rest of us want: prosperity, safety and a better life. Yet we are entering a dangerous period, where some Saiyans have proven to be a danger to others, and themselves. We are not targeting them, but we hope that this census will allow us to help them, for everyone’s sake.” 

Bell shot a venomous look at Serrin that she ignored. They’d agreed beforehand to not directly address any questions regarding the explosions that had occurred. Anything he could say after she broke their agreement would sound limp and meek by comparison. Still, he stepped to the microphones.

“They are not ‘incidents’, they’re accidents,” Bell said. “Again, we are not targeting anyone with this initiative. We need more information to help our citizens better. That includes everyone, humans, Saiyans and beastmen alike.” He could already see that the reporters gathered before him had stopped taking notes. Serrin had given them their headline, and he felt an ominous pressure in his chest as he anticipated what those headlines would say.

The press conference ended shortly thereafter, and Serrin hobbled down the stairs and into a side hallway that led to a rear exit for the building. Waiting to be sure that no intrepid journalist was hanging around for a scoop, Bell followed her into the tunnel. He walked briskly, catching up with her and grabbing her arm.

“What the hell was that all about?” Bell snapped. Serrin snatched her arm away, and faced him. The calm demeanor of just a few moments ago melted away. Beneath it was a face twisted in anger, cast in shadow. Her lips curled and she spoke in a voice that was sharp, antagonistic, almost malevolent.

“”We’re on the verge of being able to pinpoint the location of every single one of you,” she snarled. “When that day comes, I’m going to make sure that there’s no way any of you can hurt anyone else like you hurt me.” 

“You hated us before this,” Bell said. “We’ve never harmed you. We don’t want to harm anyone.”

Serrin laughed, an acid-dripped sound that made Bell shudder. “It’s in your nature. You’re all violent savages, just like your ancestors. We’re going to make sure we keep all of you under control, no matter what it takes. And if you ever touch me again, I’ll make sure that you’re the first one, to serve as an example to the rest.” She took her cane and pushed it into Bell’s chest, and he stared disbelievingly as she walked off.

***

Dr. Rutab was sitting in a room adjacent to the main laboratory, eating a tuna sandwich and thumbing through reams of data he’d printed out. General Bradley entered the room, and dropped a data rod onto the table in front of him.

“That’s the security footage from the upstairs data center,” he said. “We were able to confirm the theft of 43 data rods from the facility. We don’t know exactly what was on them, but it looks like they were grabbed at random. Probably just took a handful and stuffed them in their pockets.”

Rutab nodded, wiping the mayonnaise away from the corners of his mouth. “They’re getting bold,” he said. “Must figure that they’ve got nothing to lose anymore. I wonder why they didn’t come down here?”

“No indication they even know it exists,” Bradley said. “Not many people would guess the secret basement has a secret basement.”

The doctor chuckled. “And they said I was crazy when I made that exact argument for building this lab here. Anyway, a few data rods going missing isn’t a big deal. What is concerning is the brazenness of attacking a government facility. These Saiyans are getting out of control.”

“For now,” Bradley said. “The X-R60 is basically done. We’re gonna have to make sure the user is wearing heat-resistant armor, but otherwise we’re good to go. Now as long as you finish your project, we’ll have what we need for when the Saiyans get rowdy.”

“We’re ready to proceed to the next step,” Rutab said. “Neuroplastacine absorption rates have surpassed 70% ever since we started going through the gut. It’s time to see how well command functions operate at various levels of absorption. 70% should be sufficient, but you can never be too sure when dealing with Saiyans. Have you secured the next group of subjects?”

“They’re in the holding area, at your disposal when ready,” he said.

“Good,” Rutab said, tossing the last crust of his sandwich into the trash.“ I think that Celer will be paying his former teacher a visit very soon.”

Chapter 14

Planets Scheduled for Destruction: Namek, Yardrat, Earth, Corrigor 

-Earth and Yardrat are planets populated by species with low battle power. A low-class

Infant should be sufficient to cleanse these planets for future sales.

-Namek is populated by a species with moderate battle power, and the planet 

has no known moon. A low-class team of Saiyans, supplemented by a mid-class

who can produce artificial moonlight, should be sufficient to cleanse the planet for future

sale.

-Corrigor is populated by a species with a highly developed warrior class. This class has

won several wars with neighboring planets and extended its influence throughout its 

solar system. A platoon or even a company of low-class warriors, with high class 

warriors in leadership positions, should be sufficient to cleanse the planet for future sale.

-Internal planning documents. Saiyan Army, found on data rod 1265

Will couldn’t help but stare at Celer’s empty seat.

He’d been missing for two weeks. The last person to see him was Bocca. They walked home together every day, and she said goodbye to him at the usual spot, where the road split and he went left, and she went right. Celer hadn’t made it home that night, and Bocca believed that it was her fault, that she should have walked him all the way home. 

He’d tried to tell her that for all she knew, she would have been taken as well. Will was convinced that was the case. A kid like Celer would never run away from home, from school which he seemed to enjoy, from the job with Reene that he was working so hard at. Something had happened to him, and the growing feeling that he wasn’t coming back felt like a rock churning in his stomach every day.

So he stared at Celer’s empty chair as he sat in his classroom during his lunch break, trying to grade a recent test he’d given. His mind was too fractured to focus on the task of correcting wrong dates and fixing grammatical errors on the short answer sections. He was too concerned about Celer; he was considering how to break down the massive amount of information he’d stolen to deliver it to the rest of the students in class; he was horrified by what he had seen in those data rods. There were timetables, troop deployments, resource inventories, repair schedules. All the mundane tasks that were necessary for a race of murderers to commit genocide again and again. The precision of the notes he read proved the banality of the evil he had become witness to.

Was this what he was supposed to aspire to? Wanton destruction and rule by force? Humans were petty, bigoted and weak, concerned with material desires and appearing benevolent despite their constant violence and greed that spawned pointless wars. But at least they attempted to mitigate those darker aspects of themselves with law and morality. Ancient Saiyans seemed to revel in it. How was he supposed to tell the children their history, which they had a right to know, without glorifying murder on the most horrific scale? So far he’d simply shown the students pictures of ancient Saiyans and their armor, technology and other cultural artifacts. Soon they would want to know more though, and he wasn’t sure what he would do then.

He leaned back in his chair, sighing. A group of students passed by his classroom door, and he went back to his work until something caught his eye. He ran out into the hallway, and caught up with the group.

“Hey, let me see that shirt?” he asked. A Saiyan girl who had dyed her hair and her tail bright green turned around, beaming at him. On the front of the shirt was an image of the Saiyan battle armor that low-class soldiers wore, with ribbed shoulder straps and stomach plates, and the sigil of the House of Vegeta on the right breastplate.

“Where did you get this?” he asked.

“Pretty cool, right?” she said. “Some of the kids are making them and selling them. Only twenty zenni.” Will saw that all the students were wearing similar shirts. He slapped his hand on his forehead. These were the pictures he’d shown the class from the data rods he’d stolen. Kids were walking around wearing the uniforms of planet killers, all because he was too afraid to tell them the truth.

He decided to fix that in his class right after lunch. He told them everything he knew about the Saiyans. All the terrible truth he’d discovered in the data rods. By the time he was finished, the kids sat rapt in their chairs. 

“You mean one baby Saiyan could destroy an entire planet?”

“Those low class soldiers must have been so strong!”

“I wish I was on a battle team!”

The students clamored excitedly about the stories they’d heard. WIll felt his shoulders slump. He’d tried to paint the Saiyans as terrible monsters, but to the hotheaded youth that were always on the verge of fighting anyway, they sounded like heroes. He decided to forgo his lecture for the last class of the day, but by the time the students filed in, they’d already heard from their friends that today’s lecture was the best of the whole year. They begged him to tell them the truth, and after the class refused to do anything else, he finally relented. 

By the end of the day, Will was more than ready to go home. He felt defeated on multiple fronts. He couldn’t protect Celer. His kids were idolizing mass murderers. He just wanted to sink into his bed and sleep until the day of the tournament. He closed the room to his door, locked it and turned to head out of the school.

“Mr. Decon, please report to the main office. Will Deacon, please report to the main office,” came the blast over the loudspeaker. 

“Oh no,”” he said aloud to himself. The kid’s chatter must have reached the administration. His last talk of the day was certainly going to be the worst.

***

“I’m gonna learn how to fly.”

Jicama almost didn’t hear Piña’s declaration over the sound of his hammering. He was hitting a metal sheet, still red hot from its time in the nearby furnace, with a large mallet. Sparks splashed onto the ground at his feet as he carefully shaped the sheet into the shape he desired. She sat on one of the large machines behind him, swinging her feet back and forth.

“Fly? That would be a neat trick to learn,” he said, grunting with effort. “But what could you do with it? The humans would be all over you the moment they saw you in the sky.”

“Since when did you care how humans respond to us?”

“Since they almost killed me,” he said. “We have to be strategic with our actions.”

Each of the four members of the dojo and Arula had their own copy of the data Will had stolen, and they’d each gravitated to a different aspect of what they’d read. Will was obsessed with the history of ancient Saiyans, while Reene had become fascinated by the various training techniques they used to become stronger. Piña was interested in the energy manipulation that they’d mastered, and Jicama was fixated on their technology. 

“Do you really think we’re gonna have to fight someday?” she asked.

“‘Someday’ is already here. They didn’t just pass the census, they got a royal decree for it. They’re coming for us now, Piña.” He waited for a few moments and then grabbed the metal sheet. Its red glow had dulled only slightly, but his tough Saiyan skin and years of callouses on his hands made the piping hot sheet feel like nothing more than a warm plate. He plunged it into a cold water bath nearby, sending steam shooting into the air.

The two had been coming back to Jicama’s workplace after the building emptied. He had access to all the advanced polymers and fabricating machinery thanks to years of trust he’d built up as a reliable worker there. As the steam subsided, he felt a pang of guilt for essentially betraying that trust by sneaking around the factory and using equipment and material that cost hundreds of thousands of zenni, but he tempered that guilt with the memory that despite his loyalty and hard work, he’d never once been offered a promotion. He was reporting to humans with half his experience and a hundredth of his strength. They owed him at least this much.

“I’m ready to fight if need be,” Piña said, her fingertips digging into the machinery and leaving faint indentations before she caught herself. “But what are we fighting for? Equal rights? Saiyan independence? Just to stop the census?”

“We’d be fighting for a place to call our own,” he said as he pulled the sheet out of the pool and laid it flat on the pre-fab conveyor belt. “A place where we won’t have to be afraid to live our lives as Saiyans, as powerful people who can decide our own destinies. Where our children don’t go missing and no one bats an eye.”

Piña looked at him. “Do you want children?”

Jicama turned and smiled at her. “Yes, I do.” 

Piña felt herself blush. It was something she’d never given much thought to, thinking she was still relatively young. Now, the idea of a future with Jicama, with children, entered her head for the first time. It would need to be a world where they could be safe. She’d make sure that it was.

“Okay,” she said, leaping down and slapping Jicama on the back. He nearly fell over from the force of her friendly blow. “How do we make this world safe for Saiyans?”

“First step is to finish this,” he said. “I’ve been experimenting with different polymers and materials to recreate the armor that we read about in the documents. I think I’ve hit on a formula that will expand when gentle force is applied to it, but harden and constrict when blunt or another strong force makes contact with it. This metal sheet is the mold for that armor.”

“Okay, I get the constricting part,” Piña said. “But why do you need it to expand?”

“Just in case we need to use our ace in the hole,” he said. She watched as he poured the polymer mixture into the mold, then placed the sheet into a flash baker that was used only for the most urgent rush jobs Capsule Corp. had. But he needed to know if the flash bake would allow the armor to retain its properties, or if the traditional bake was the way to go. He felt he would need as many armor sets as he could make.

The flash bake was still a lengthy process, shortening the standard ten hour bake for polymer sets down to four. Jicama and Piña took turns reading the makeshift books they had to each other, excitedly sharing their favorite parts and the insights. As Piña breathlessly described how ancient warriors had discovered how to concentrate their aura into blasts that could shred mountains, Jicama felt something stir inside him. It was more than love. It was an adoration for the woman before him, for another who sought strength for its own sake. It dawned on him that Piña was more than just his girlfriend. She was going to be his queen.

Chapter 15

Many Saiyans consider the Night Watch to be nothing more than a government-funded anti-Saiyan militia. There are no training requirements, and members do not need experience in law enforcement or the military. Members volunteer with a local office that issues them the authority to carry out the group’s mission. 

Ostensibly, the Night Watch is supposed to ensure that Saiyans are following the laws and procedures of Dark Nights, to prevent any Great Ape transformations. However, Night Watch members have been frequently accused of harassment and violence, with little oversight from field offices. Since the recent spate of Saiyan explosions and the institution of a census, the number of people volunteering for the Night Watch has skyrocketed by almost 300%. Many  are worried that there is essentially an untrained army roaming the streets, looking for Saiyans to target.

–Excerpt from “Night Watch: A Necessary Evil?”, by Professor Oliver Hillis

Reene stepped out of the Capsule vehicle into the blazing sun. Arula had driven them over thirty kilometers away from West City limits, to an area where barely any humans ever ventured, much less the Royal Security forces. They were on the edge of the Shonen steppes, a region that barely saw rain except for intense bursts late in the rainy season for the city. The earth was dry and cracked as far as the eye could see, with brown shrubs sprouting up haphazardly. It was a place where they’d be able to let loose in their fighting. 

Will stepped out next, stretching his body to the max as Jicama exited the car and brushed past him. Piña was the last passenger out, releasing a loud yawn as she stood. Reene envied her ability to almost instantly fall asleep in any circumstance. They’d hoped to have their armor sets ready for the big day, but Jicama was too fussy to allow them to take them. They were almost perfect, he’d said, and almost didn’t count. The armor sets were still too rigid, and cracked under the kind of force a Saiyan punch would apply to them. Just a few more days, he’d promised. So instead Reene wore her usual training outfit, slim-fitting grey sweatpants and a black tanktop. 

Arula came from around the other side of the vehicle. She placed it back into its capsule, and led her four disciples wordlessly to a giant rectangle she’d drawn into the ground. The lines were deep enough to distinguish from the naturally occurring cracks that tormented the earth. This was to be their field of battle, Reene guessed.

“Today is the day,” Arula said, standing in the center of the rectangle. “Many hundreds of years ago, your ancestor, Son Goku, competed in a tournament to determine who the strongest warrior on the planet was. While the scope of this contest is slightly smaller, you will place yourself among the elite fighters of the planet by winning it, by virtue of the fact that you have defeated some of the most highly trained Saiyan fighters there are.” 

Reene looked at her comrades, pride swelling in her chest. Arula was right; simply by following the path of the warrior, they’d already become stronger than almost everyone else on Earth, human and Saiyan alike. She didn’t doubt that there were other Saiyans learning how to fight in secret, but she knew that none of them could match the work that she and the others had put into their training. 

“To make the tournament fair and random, I drew lots myself last night to determine who would face who,” Arula said. “The rules are simple. This is a one-on-one, single elimination bracket. Victory is achieved by either knocking your opponent out of the ring, forcing them to yield, or incapacitating them such that they can no longer continue to fight. There are no time limits, and no holds or techniques are barred. Fight until you can’t fight anymore.

“The first match of the Arula Tenkaichi Budokai,” she said with a cheeky grin, “will be Jicama versus Piña, followed by Will versus Reene.” A frown crept across Jicama’s face, but he nodded and stepped into the makeshift arena. Piña did the same, taking a position opposite to him. Arula stood in the center still. Reene’s eyes were fixed on Jicama. Was he really going to use all of his strength against Piña? 

“Begin!” Arula said, leaping backwards out of the ring. Jicama assumed his usual battle stance, placing his arms at his side and protruding his chest out. Piña didn’t take her stance though. Instead, she walked across the arena, stopping just in front of Jicama. She reached out and caressed the scar on his face.

“I could never hurt you,” she said softly. Jicama’s eyes wanted momentarily, and he bent down, bringing his forehead to rest on hers. She kissed him on the cheek, then turned and walked out of the ring. 

Reene and Will looked on, dumbfounded. Did that really just happen? As if reading their minds, Arula spoke to confirm it.

“Piña is eliminated by ring out! The matches’ winner is Jicama!” 

He shuffled out of the arena, his head hanging. Piña was waiting for him, and hugged him into her chest.

“I’m sorry,” Reene heard Jicama say, barely above a whisper. “I wasn’t going to…I mean, I wasn’t thinking, and…”

“It’s okay,” Piña responded. “It’s okay. You’re a warrior. That’s what warriors do.” He really was going to fight her, Reene realized. That meant he would have absolutely no mercy on her when they fought. But first, she thought, turning to face her current opponent, she’d have to get through Will.

“I hope you’re not going to get all weak-kneed on me,” she said as she crossed into the arena.

“Not a chance,” he replied. Reene took a moment to size up her opponent. Physically, he had changed a little. His muscles were more well defined, in particular his triceps and trapezius. He’d put on a little more weight, a result of the increased musculature. The real changes though were in his strength. She no longer had to concentrate to feel his energy. It radiated out from him even when he was at rest. The events over the past weeks had prevented them from sparring directly, so she had no idea how strong in fact he was. This would be no friendly match though. Reene was ready to show how strong she’d become.

“Ready?” Arula asked Reene. She nodded, crouching into her new battle stance. She modeled her fighting style after a low-class warrior she’d found in the documents, a soldier named Bardock. He was Kakarot’s father, but otherwise unremarkable except for the sheer number of planets he and his team had cleared. The idea of quietly grinding along, getting stronger after every battle, not for glory or fame, but because that’s what Saiyans do, inspired her. She’d realized that her pretentious to the contrary, dispute her college degree and job with humans and name being in the news, she was just a low-class Saiyan as well. But now, that was something to be proud of.

“Ready?” Arula asked Will. He nodded. Although she hadn’t discussed it directly with him, she could see the shift in him since the library robbery. He was ashamed of what he’d learned. Instead of finding out that the humans were hiding a righteous history of noble strength and sacrifice, it had confirmed that they were right to fear Saiyans. In reality, they were a bestial people who gave into their most base urges for destruction and mayhem. Their tails were a living metaphor for their true nature. And yet, here he was, ready to fight anyway, because as much as he wished that he didn’t he loved it. 

“Begin!” Reene launched herself at Will, swinging with a huge lariat. He ducked beneath her swing, as she thought he would. She was already stepping back, bringing her leg up to clip his feet. He read her attack, sidestepped her second move and landed a backfist to the side of her head. She stumbled from the blow, and wildly threw a punch as she fell, hoping to catch him off guard with the speed of her counterattack. Will was more than ready. He grabbed her fist and pulled her in, landing a clean punch on her cheek. Reene saw a bright flash, then red as she fell onto the hard earth.

Her vision cleared just in time to see Will bringing his foot down to stomp on her abdomen. She twisted out of the way just in time, and swept his legs in one quick motion. Will yelped as he hit the ground, and both fighters scrambled to their feet to reset themselves. Reene felt her cheek. It was still throbbing, but as far as she could tell, nothing was broken. She spit a mouthful of blood into the dirt. She was furious that he’d landed the first good hit. This was supposed to be her moment to show off, with an easy victory over the teacher. She was excited too though. She’d hoped to save some of her tricks for when she faced Jicama, but so be it. 

“Okay,” she said grimly. “Round two.” Reene focused for a moment, bringing her energy levels up. She felt the fire inside her growing, and directed those flames into her arms and legs. This time, she would wait for Will to make the first move.

He obliged, running at her and jumping in with a flying kick. Reene raised her arms to block the attack, and was surprised by the force it landed with. She hadn’t noticed that Will had raised his own energy level to match hers. It was still not easy to focus her own power, and she made a note that she would have to learn how to power up and keep track of her opponent at the same time. 

He landed in front of her, and the two exchanged a flurry of blows that were almost too fast to see. She was landing more than he was, but each of his fists landed with enough force to make her flinch a little. She was enjoying their exchange, and truly impressed at how well Will was fighting. But in the back of her head, Jicama still loomed large. He’d gotten through the first round without even throwing a punch, and the longer she battled with Will, the weaker she would be when it was time to face him. She had to end this soon. 

Reene shoved Will back and landed a kick to his chest. He gasped for air for a moment, slowing down his assault. It was just the opening she needed.

“Not bad for a conformist,” she yelled in his direction. “I didn’t think you tailless Saiyans knew how to fight.” She felt a spike in his energy. He hated being called a conformist, and even more than that, he hated when he was picked on about his tail. He didn’t choose to have it taken away. It made him less than Saiyan, and everything else about him made him less than human. His temper erupted, and he charged in at her blindly, just as Reene knew he would.

She closed her eyes. She’d never tried this in the middle of a battle, and only had one chance to make it work. If Will landed his attack while she was defenseless, even she couldn’t withstand a blow like that. But if she landed hers…

Reene drew all the energy in her body back into her chest. She focused it tightly, packing in as much power as she could into as small a space as she could. She had learned how to draw in energy from around her as well, and while it worked best in areas with vegetation, animals and other people, life force that she could borrow, there was just enough in the air for her to push her own reserves past their limit. Her body began to shake with the additional energy, but she needed to hold it in. Just a bit longer. Until Will was almost right on top of her. She sensed him, just centimeters away.

Her eyes snapped open, and her aura exploded from within her. 

It nearly blew her off her own feet, but she held steady. The purple flame manifested around her in a sudden burst, blasting away the dirt and debris near her. Arula’s eyes went wide as the force of the wind hit her, and Jicama and Piña both covered their faces to shield themselves. Will was caught totally unprepared. Although the energy wasn’t concentrated enough to cause physical damage, the concussive force of releasing it all at once threw him into the air. He landed a few meters away, tumbling until he came to a halt. When he sat up, he saw that he had landed outside of the ring. Only Reene stood inside of it, sheathed in purple light. 

Arula took a moment to regain her composure, but finally pointed towards the victor.

“The winner, by ring out, is Reene!” she declared.

Will was in disbelief, but he said nothing. He sat in the dirt for a long while. Reene powered down, then walked over to him and extended her hand.

“Good match Will, you almost had me there,” she said, bending down to lift him up. To her surprise, Will slapped her hand away.

“I don’t need your help,” he said. 

“Look, I’m sorry about what I said. I was just trying to get in your head. I didn’t mean it.”

Will looked up at her with daggers in his eyes. She’d never seen him so angry before. “You knew what you were saying, and you knew how it would make me feel. Don’t try to act innocent now.” He stood and dusted himself off, still ignoring her outstretched hand. He turned to Arula.

“I’m done for the day. I’ll be in the car waiting,” he said, and walked off. Arula opened her mouth to say something, but Reene shook her head.

“Let him go. It’s my fault, I’ll patch things up later,” she said. “Call the next match.”

“Let’s take a quick break. You just finished a fight.”

“No,” Reene said. “I’m ready. In a real fight the enemy won’t give me time to rest.”

“You should rest,” Jicama jumped in. “I want a fair fight.”

“Don’t worry about me. I won’t take it easy on you like your girlfriend did,” Reene said. Piña laughed, and Jicama cracked a smile.

“As you wish,” he said, stepping into the arena. Reene could immediately feel the difference between him and Will. There was a heaviness about Jicama’s energy, like the dense matter of a neutron star. It drew all the energy surrounding him in like a gravity well, stealing away what little was left that Reene was hoping to replenish herself with. She was more than just tired. Her strategy against Will had her on the borderline of exhaustion, but she still wanted to fight. At best, she would defeat Jicama and prove that she was the strongest student there. At worst, he would beat her in her exhausted state to within an inch of her life. Either outcome was a win-win for her.

“I see you’ve succeeded in manifesting your aura. Well done,” Jicama said. “But can you sustain such a display of power?” Reene felt a whoosh around her, like air being sucked into a vacuum. It was Jicama, drawing in his energy and focusing it. A blood red aura manifested around him. Its force wasn’t as strong as what Reene had produced, but she could feel how stable it was, a tree trunk of power that surrounded him. She focused, manifesting her own aura again. It flickered wildly, threatening to wither and fade. 

“Ready?” Arula asked. They both nodded. “Begin!”

Jicama approached Reene, but more slowly than normal. He’d seen her power and cunning, and didn’t want to be caught unaware as Will had. Likewise, Reene rethought her strategy. She’d prepared a few choice insults for Jicama as well, but knew he wouldn’t fall for them after seeing them work on Will. She would have to out-think him in some other way. 

He lunged forward, and Reene raised her hands to defend. She was unprepared when he stomped on her toes. Pain shot up from her foot through her leg.. He’s probably broken at least three of my toes, she thought, cursing herself for not being ready. She limped back, every movement racking her body with pain. She tried to adjust herself, but when she placed her full weight on her injured foot she collapsed down to one knee. Jicama took advantage, and connected a savage foot with her jaw. Reene flew through the air, passing in and out of consciousness until she forced her eyes open. She exerted her power, pushing herself to crash into the arena before she flew out. She was certain her jaw was broken too, and she couldn’t afford another blow to the face. Jicama had already covered the distance between them, and he loomed over her. His aura was still crackling, while hers had all but faded.

“Yield,” he said.

“Never,” Reene replied. He answered by grabbing her by the arm and yanking her upward. The force nearly pulled her arm out of its socket, but she managed to grab him and flip over and behind him, freeing herself. She hopped backwards on her good leg, and tried to focus her energy again. It was no use. She was completely spent.

“You’ve fought well,” Jicama said. “There’s no need to continue. You have satisfied your warrior’s honor.”

“This isn’t about honor,” she said, remembering the shame she’d felt talking to Justin, talking to a thousand humans who looked down on her. “This is about what it’s like to suffer, to suffer alone in agony, to feel that this is what it’s like to die every time someone says, you’re just a Saiyan. I put my life on the line now, killing the old me. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how painful it is, because this is who I am, and this is what it means to be Saiyan!” She charged towards Jicama, hobbling the entire way but ready to strike with whatever she had left.

Jicama nodded at her. “I understand. And because you are Saiyan, that is why I cannot lose to you.” He gathered his energy, focusing it into one point on his arm. He stepped forward and slammed his elbow into Reene’s chest. They both heard her sternum crack beneath the blow. Reene coughed and blood splashed out from between her lips. She was out cold before she hit the ground, and the last sound she heard was Arula’s footsteps running towards her.