Zod learned much from observing the activities of the Earth-people. He was shocked and rather appalled to discover that these aliens, despite their inferior genetics, bore an uncanny resemblance to Kryptonians. In fact, the only noticeable difference was their eyes, which were dull and came in many hues compared to the vibrant blue of the Mother World's children. That would make his infiltration into the planet all the easier.
In order to exploit the resources of this world, he would first have to understand the inhabitants. The universal translator found in the probe's cabin took quite a while to decipher the aliens' language, but Zod was an extremely adaptable man, and trained himself to understand and speak their language. Once he had done so, he took in the local affairs to gain a better understanding of what was going on around him.
This place-- Pokolistan, it was called-- was once a part of a much larger and more powerful empire. Once this empire collapsed, however, it and several other states like it declared independence. However, the ruling people-- Rossians, he believed they were called, or was it Russians? he wasn't sure-- still claimed authority over the land, and a long and bloody civil war has raged in the area. Though the Pokolistani forces were easily crushed by the superior Russian forces, the people remained rebellious.
"Such a turbulent nation," Zod mused to himself, "one that may very well serve my purposes. If I am to gain resources for my return to Krypton, I will need followers to aid my efforts. And what better way to gain followers than to become a hero for them?"
With that thought in mind, Zod lay in waiting for an opportunity to make his presence known....
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The General did not need to wait long; his opportunity came when the military were deployed to the nearby town to quell a brewing riot outside of the city hall. Apparently, the impact of Zod's ship was mistaken by the villagers for a Russian missile, and a large crowd had amassed for a demonstration. Their gathering was met in force when the local governor responded by declaring martial law. A line of riot police marched on the protesters, backed by fully-armed and armored Russian soldiers.
Violence quickly ensued, as the rioters began throwing rocks at the police officers and soldiers, before charging the line. The riot police retaliated with tear gas, and using billy-clubs to batter anyone who approached their ranks. After a few minutes, however, they could not hold the line, and the Russians advanced in with rifles ready to fire as the police retreated.
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Zod watched from nearby, heard the staccato bark of the soldiers' weapons as they opened fire onto the civilian crowd, watched sprays of crimson erupt from the aliens' bodies as they were cut down by their enemies, saw the horror and anger in the eyes of the rebellious protesters. The General always found it distasteful to fire upon civilians, but he would if it were necessary to his cause. As for now, aliens were aliens; let them spill each other's blood as much as they pleased.
Suddenly, the noise of the gunfire and screaming was drowned out by the droning of engines. Two large armored vehicles were rolling towards the scene of the riot, and a third flying gunship hovered overhead. It was clear to Zod that these Russians wished to scatter the crowd with an impressive show of force. What they had really done, however, was present him with the opportunity he was waiting for.
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The protesters, cut off from the main road by the pair of Russian T-72 tanks, began to scatter, funnelling themselves into alleys, trampling those who fell while running. The Russian soldiers withdrew from their positions, letting the tanks and the Hind helicopter do their work. The remainder of the mob who weren't ducking into the alleys were blasted by the Hind's machine guns, corralled into a "kill-zone" by the soldiers and tanks. In the panic and terror of the impending massacre, few noticed that a man was flying overhead.
The blasts from the machine gun stopped, replaced by the groaning of twisted steel as the man bent the gun barrels back on themselves, before grabbing the helicopter by the tail, resisting the powerful rotors, and swung the Hind around and around until he released and sent the gunship careening down into the street, crashing into one of the T-72s. Both the tank and the gunship erupted into a fountain of orange fire, scattering debris in all directions.
The Russian soldiers scattered, not knowing how to react. Some took up defensive positions and opened fire; others simply cut and ran. The powerful being in the skies seemed to take no notice as their bullets bounced harmlessly off of him. Meanwhile, the second tank aimed its cannon at the being and fired a shell. The shell burst with an ear-piercing report, scattering debris down onto the street and kicking up an enormous cloud of smoke. The Russian soldiers cheered, believing they had felled this thing.
When the smoke cleared, however, the red-and-black armored man still hovered in the skies, before descending onto the earth with a regal sense of ease. One of the tank's hatches opened as the machine-gunner manned his weapon, firing round after round into this new threat. However, the man simply glared at him, impaling the gunner with beams of scarlet light. The protesters watched in awe as the man walked calmly to the tank, grabbed the front of it, and tossed it hundreds of feet in the air as easily as a normal man would throw a ball.
The Russian foot-soldiers ran for their lives, but they were each cut down by the ruby bolts of light from the man's eyes. This stranger did not even care to look back as the tank came crashing back down to earth, its twisted steel frame collapsing as the pavement shattered around it.
For a few moments, there was deadly silence. Then, the man began to speak.
"People of this ravaged land," he began, "I am Zod. I have watched your planet from afar for many years, (a lie, of course, but one which would grant him an air of wisdom) and have felt the pain of your people. Your Russian oppressors have held this land captive for too long, and you have had too much blood spilled on their part!
"My world once knew such injustice, where the will of the people is overrun by the whim of fools who do not deserve the power they weild. Now, to see such horrors on this planet wrenches my heart. I failed to win the freedom of my own people, but here, with my newfound might and the righteous will of your glorious cause, there will be no stopping us! Today, Pokolistan will be free!"
The few remaining protesters began to cheer madly, their lust for vindication finally made real by such otherworldly power. Some of them took up the dead soldiers' weapons, and began firing them into the air. Such a mob mentality was just the spark needed to escalate simple protests into all-out civil war.
Inwardly, Zod smiled to himself, and marvelled at how easily swayed these Earth-people were. Only time will tell how well they could be fashioned into soldiers, an army with which to seize this world's resources. Until then, he was sure these Russians would send enough troops to keep him entertained.
