Going Native: Rewritten: Homecoming 4.2 (ch. 19) (Patreon)

Honestly, I kinda figured that response would get me killed. I knew that before I said it, and I accepted that as a very real possibility for running my mouth. Vegeta from the show probably would have killed me for it, son or not. But, when I got a very different reaction from the Saiyan King, I was forced to reflect that I didn't exactly know anything about King Vegeta. 

Because he apparently found the entire thing hilarious. 

“Haha! I suppose you wouldn't have made it this far without a spine! Hahaha!” He threw his head back and laughed uproariously. Meanwhile, Vegeta staggered back as if he had been physically struck by my refusal. He couldn't believe it, openly gaping at me with a slack jaw. “Do you even understand what you are refusing, child? Have you not labored for years for the sake of my acknowledgment?”

I see where Vegeta the Younger got his narcissism from. Seriously, this guy… exposure was not making the heart grow fonder. 

“I wanted to get stronger so I could kick the crap out of you, but it seems like you're stronger than I thought,” I admitted, crossing my arms over my chest. “And because of that threat you made against my tribe. Which, admittedly, funneled into me wanting to kick the crap out of you.” Well, if he wasn’t going to kill me for being honest, I didn’t see a reason to hold back. 

“Tarble!” Lil Vegeta snapped at me, having enough of the attitude. “Cease this foolishness at once! Father is acknowledging you! Now take your rightful place as a Prince of the Saiyan race!” He demanded, taking a threatening step forward. I glanced at him to see that he was pissed all the way off, but I wasn't entirely sure the reason why. Because I was refusing or because I was disrespecting his father? 

Though speaking of Lil Vegeta, I realized that he had grown stronger as well these past couple of years. Much stronger. He wasn't on the same level as King Vegeta, but the last time I had seen him, he had a power level of around 100,000. Now, I would put him at around 16 million. It was kind of ridiculous, honestly.

Like, what the heck was going on here, huh? How were they outpacing me when I had metaknowledge? 16 million was the estimated base form power level Vegeta had during the Cell Saga after his first stay in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber. Like… what? How? What was their exercise routine? What were they eating? What kind of juice did they drink? What could possibly explain this nonsense that I was witnessing? 

I mean, I was stronger than Goku had been when he fought Frieza. And I thought that was ridiculous. 

“Can I be a prince without accepting that guy as my father?” I asked, mostly to test the waters of what was yanking his tail. 

Vegeta sputtered, “Of course not, you fool!” It would seem that it was disrespectful to his father. And I guess the king. Well, we were at an impasse there because hell would freeze over before I gave that guy any respect.

“Then I don't want to be a prince,” I replied, making him recoil. He was flabbergasted. Bamboozled, even. I could see him struggling to think of something to say, and every second that he couldn't, he got more and more frustrated. I half expected steam to erupt from his ears. 

“You are a child,” King Vegeta uttered, cutting off Vegeta. “So I shall forgive your ignorance. Your childish dislike of me aside, you don't understand what becoming a prince would do for you and that tribe of yours.” I tensed, fully ready for him to make another threat, which is why I was puzzled when I saw King Vegeta relax ever so slightly. 

“You, and those that follow you, are now High-Class Saiyans. Do you even know what that means?” King Vegeta asked, and it kinda ticked me off that I didn't. My silence was answered enough, so he explained. “Our society is divided into several classes, Tarble. The Support-Class are those that managed to survive to their first growth spurt in the Wilds, but failed to become warriors. They are a labor force -- scientists, engineers, laborers.” 

I also kinda hated the fact that I was admittedly very curious about what he was talking about. Upon seeing that I was listening carefully, he smirked as he continued. “Warriors are divided into the Low, Mid, High, and Elite-Class. All but the latter, you can be born into upon being born with a prerequisite power level. One hundred for Low, one thousand for Mid, five thousand for High.” 

What a bastard. He didn't realize it, but he just confirmed something for me. 

Years ago, Raditz had claimed to be born with a power level of three hundred. Meaning that he was born strong enough to be considered Low-Class at the start. Yet, King Vegeta had still sent him to the Wilds. Heck, he technically sent me into the Wilds, too, even though I would have cleared the bar for Low-Class as well. 

“Upon graduating from the Wilds, you became a Low-Class warrior. Traditionally, you would have been assigned to a war front with that paltry squad of yours. From there, provided that you survived, you would grow in power until you hit Mid-Class at a power level of twenty thousand.” King Vegeta continued, heedless of my thoughts or how he gave himself away. “At that point, you would be eligible to take command. You could freelance contracts, recruit amongst the Low-Class, and gain access to the vast resources my domain possesses.” 

I guess that's what Bardock was doing, though I was a little confused. I saw the holograms with mercenary work for the Low-Class, as well as recruitment pitches for various wars. What was that, then? Side gigs?

“As a High-Class warrior? One must have a power level of one million, and the privileges available to you increase,” King Vegeta continued, sounding like he thought he was dangling a juicy bone before a hungry dog. “You may wage war freely. Any planets or space taken by you will be your own domain, with only a tithe taken yearly. Any Low-Class warrior is compelled to be recruited, while you may recruit the Mid-Class to join you on campaign. Additionally, you are taught to control your Oozaru transformation, further increasing your incredible power.”

…I narrowed my eyes ever so slightly, an idea tickling in the back of my head. I’m not sure I would call it a good idea, but it was a viable idea all the same. 

“Above your current class resides the Elite-Class. These are our most peerless warriors -- with myself at the very top,” King Vegeta informed smugly. So smugly that I wanted to hit him. He said the words with a tone that screamed, ‘Yes, you should be very impressed. I do expect applause.’ “This class comprises our ten most elite warriors. It is to these warriors that certain… privileges are granted.” I also did not like how he said the word ‘privileges.’

“And as a prince?” I asked, cocking my head, wondering what exactly was on offer with the title. King Vegeta smirked, clearly thinking that I had taken the bait. 

“Power,” King Vegeta answered. “You have come far with your own methods. I will acknowledge that, Tarble. Perhaps we can even implement them for our family going forward. However, the royal family has ways of growing stronger that you can barely comprehend. In another mere five years, you could possess a power level in the tens of millions. By the time you’re a man, you could surpass even me with your potential.”

I couldn’t even lie -- that was tempting. Very tempting. All I had to do was swallow my pride, and I could get whatever good shit that he and mini Vegeta were on. I had come far, and I thought that I had been doing very well, but seeing how far Vegeta had come in the same amount of time…

“Nah.”

I could give a lot of reasons for the decision. Most of all was the fact that I wanted to try my hand at course-correcting the entire Saiyan race, King Vegeta was a big obstacle in the way of that. I genuinely couldn’t think of a way that I could do it that had him living in the end. And I’m guessing that Lil Vegeta would take issue with me killing his father. Probably. Even as a kid, Lil Vegeta had been ice cold when he learned that his father and planet were destroyed. 

But, I wasn’t doing it for any of those reasons. 

I pointed at King Vegeta, meeting his uncomprehending gaze. “I don’t have any issue with Vegeta. If I have a mom, I’m cool with her. But you threatened my friends. You threatened my tribe. And you threatened the eventual children of my tribe. I don’t give a shit what you offer me -- you are not my father.” 

I couldn’t forgive that. I didn’t want to forgive that. And I could see it in his eyes that he didn’t get it. He couldn’t comprehend that I was refusing this offer because of a bunch of kids I barely knew. Even he, with a son of his own, couldn’t understand that kind of sacrifice, and it was utterly unthinkable. 

At that, a very familiar sneer appeared on his face. It was the same he wore when I was first brought to him so he could berate me for being a failure. “For all your potential, you seem content to waste it. Weak in mind and body. Begone from my sight, failure,” he said, his sneer twisting into a scowl as he started to get more and more worked up. 

“Gladly,” I replied with a sneer of my own before my eyes flickered to Vegeta. I gave him a small nod of the head, seeing his expression. It was a conflicted one that I wasn’t sure how to describe, but one I understood. Vegeta had expected to gain a little brother, and now King Vegeta was slamming the door shut on that forever. But, all the same, I turned to the very same window I had left the throne room twice already and flew through it. 

It felt very on point, even if this time, the window had been closed. 

…

There was one thing in King Vegeta’s sales pitch that stood out to me -- that being High-Class Saiyan had privileges, and prince or not; I was very curious about what those privileges would entail. While I absolutely expected some kind of reprisal from King Vegeta, I didn’t think it would interfere too much with what I hoped to get out of my new Class. Primarily learning how to control the Oozaru transformation and the fact that I could recruit freely. 

But there was a whole lot that I just didn’t know about the Saiyan Empire. Questions that I never thought to ask or questions I hadn’t wanted the answers to. Since I had thoroughly poisoned the well with King Vegeta, I had to look elsewhere for my answers. Luckily, I knew exactly who to ask. 

My abilities with ki sensing had steadily been increasing as I got more experience with it. I still wasn’t Goku, who could sense a ki signature from across the galaxy. However, as the years went by, I’ve started to find that I generally could find a ki signature so long as we were on the same planet nowadays. It was just looking underneath the overpowering presences and finding the familiar ones that lay beneath. 

“There you are,” I said, searching the planet, and I found a familiar ki signature. Actually, I found a couple. I found myself looking down at Capital Vegeta, and another thing stood out to me -- I had never even explored the city. I had been to Gine’s house and to the dockyard. When I left, I hadn’t wanted to explore the one major city of my home planet. 

Because of that, I found myself more than a little curious as I lowered myself down to a large building. I could sense a few hundred people dwelling within, and pushing the door open, I was amazed to see it was a sports bar. Or the Saiyan equivalent to one. There were a number of holographic screens that showed a number of battles between species -- some of the tournaments I even recognized, as I had participated in some of them. 

The Saiyans were their version of relaxing, which was loudly cheering when their chosen fighter was winning and loudly complaining when they were losing. It was kind of weird, I decided, stepping forward and just… marveling at it. If it wasn’t for the hair and the tails, I’d almost think I was back on earth. It was just oddly mundane-

“B-B-BOSS?!” I heard someone shout at the top of their lungs, bringing my attention over to the source. I spotted a familiar hairstyle -- An undercut, the top slicked back. The Saiyan was gaping at me, his jaw hitting the table he was seated at, and he was joined by a few others. He was seated with another Saiyan that I recognized, one with a hairstyle that reminded me of Vash the Stampede. 

“Oh, Okarot, Ginge,” I said, giving them a little wave. “Yo!”

“Boss! You’re here! I can’t believe it!” Okarot blurted, bringing some attention to us as I approached the table where they were seated. Both Okarot and Ginge were seated with four other Saiyans, none of which who I recognized. However, they were looking at me with expressions of wonder. One of them even poked me as I sat down, like I was an apparition or something. “The most I’ve seen of you was on the fighting channels, but there’s been nothing since you defeated Rath!”

“Yeah! Others started thinking that you died- I mean, I didn’t. Others did,” Ginge said, unable to lie to save his life. 

“I was training,” I admitted to them, looking between them and their teammates. I bowed my head to them politely, “My name is Tarble, but these guys just call me Boss. No need to-” 

“Boss!” One of the Saiyans that I didn’t know blurted, a fierceness in his eyes. At first, I thought he was about to challenge me to a fight, but instead, he just fist-pumped. “There’s no way we could ever call you anything but boss, Boss!” 

Okay. That was a little weird. Honestly, I knew about the hero worship back when I was with the tribe, but I was sure it would lessen when they figured out I was teaching them very, very, oh-so-very basic life skills. Like cooking your food. And maybe not murdering each other. “...okay,” I replied, mostly not sure how I should even respond to the fervor in his voice. 

Then Okarot patted him on the back, “This is Mayze! He was the Forest King up until a year ago.” He introduced the Saiyan with a Johnny Bravo mega-pompadour, making me perk up. 

“Really? How has the tribe been? I ended up having to cut and-” I started but Mayze cut me off. 

“You had to fight with the five Evil Kings!” He blurted and… yeah, I guess. Interesting usage of the word evil, though. When I nodded, I would swear that the kid was about to start hyperventilating. The other three unnamed Saiyans weren’t much better as they exchanged looks of disbelieving wonder. “Things are good! Great, even! We’ve been following your teachings religiously, Boss.”

…I’m not sure how I felt about the stress he put on the word religiously. 

Still, it was good news. “That’s a relief,” I admitted, looking to Okarot and Ginge. “I didn’t know it then, but I found out I left you guys in a tight spot. Turles said he sicced all the other tribes on you,” I said, earning a confident look from Okarot and Ginge. 

“Yeah, they all teamed up on us for a little bit. But once we conquered the Ocean tribes, they mostly gave up after that,” Okarot replied. “It was after my time, but I know that the Tribe ended up conquering the Mountain Tribes and the Desert Tribes too. Around that time, they implemented the new strength requirement to the Wilds to graduate into a warrior on this planet -- now you have to have a power level of five thousand.”

I breathed a little easier at the news that they were all apparently doing alright. When Turles threw that information in my face, I feared the worst. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I would have done if Okarot had told me that the tribe had been crushed after my departure. And I don’t think I wanted to know. 

Mayze nodded, “I left the Forest a year ago, and by then, we had pretty much conquered the Mountains. The Desert tribes mostly joined willingly, though. Turns out there's not a lot of food in the desert.”

“The change in power level to graduate is because of us, then?” I ventured, making Okarot nod even as he blew out a sigh. 

“Because of your teachings, Boss -- first, we started graduating really fast, and there were a lot more of us because not as many were dying in the Wilds,” Ginge answered. “So, they started increasing the graduation point. That helped things a bit, but they’re talking about increasing it again.” 

I tilted my head, “Why?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but it’s because of the Support-Class and the explosion in numbers for the Low-Class Warriors from here,” Okarot offered. “Since there aren’t as many Saiyans washing out to become Support-Class, the King is getting worried about their replacements. And with the Low-Class, like us, there’s… a lot of us now. I mean, there are still plenty of babies that don’t get sent into the Wilds, and Infiltration Babies usually don’t come back, but the number of us graduating from the Wilds has flipped from almost none to almost everyone that gets dumped there.”

Mayze nodded, “And we graduate a lot faster- not as fast as you, Boss! You still hold the record! But, it usually only took a year for a fresh batch to graduate with the old cap. It can be a little hard to find work at times because there are only so many wars to be fought. Half of us can’t even get off the planet because there’s not enough Attack Balls.”

Huh. Huh. That was an unexpected wrinkle I hadn’t anticipated. And I imagine King Vegeta likely would have mentioned this had I accepted the title of Prince, but we never got past that point. It was a case of dominoes tipping over, but from the sounds of it, I set a whole societal issue in motion. Completely by accident, too. 

“But, it won’t be a problem for much longer! Soon enough, we’re going to be Mid-Class!” Ginge announced, puffing out his chest. It was a bit of an exaggeration, given that his power level was around 15k, but he would get there sooner rather than later. “Actually, there are a whole bunch of us that are already starting to close in on Mid-Class. I hope they don’t raise the bar for it… wait, what about you, Boss? Are you already Mid-Class?”

“King Vegeta just confirmed me as High-Class,” I informed them casually, and I got the reaction I had been looking for. I was probably going to regret it later, but that was a problem for future me. Seeing their bugged-eyed expressions was absolutely worth it. “But, he didn’t exactly explain what that meant beyond that I could do some recruiting…”

“Boss! You can recruit whole armies, Boss!” Okarot blurted, leaning forward, and I didn’t fail to notice how some others at the tables around us turned their ears in our direction. “You get fleets, and resources, and any planet that you conquer get to be yours!” All more or less what King Vegeta told me, but I guess I shouldn’t have expected specifics. 

“I got that much,” I admitted. “But the details were pretty scarce. Like, how does it even work? I’ve been freelancing as a mercenary and prizefighter for the most part.”

There was a part of me that expected them to be astonished by my ignorance, but instead, they just seemed happy that they could help explain things to me. And, through them, I started to get a much clearer idea of how the Saiyan Empire actually functioned. 

The answer was that I had both over and underestimated the unity of the Empire. 

The Saiyan Empire was expanding in pretty much every single direction, which I had largely anticipated. But it was more ordered than I thought it’d be. I figured it’d be a case of sending a handful of Saiyans at a planet, attacking, and then repeating the process as many times as necessary until the planet fell. And while there was that element of brute force that I expected to see, it was wielded with a much lighter touch. 

Invasions were structured. Organized. Armies of tens of thousands of Low-Class Saiyans were supported by slave soldiers of our various client races. Important industries were left preserved, and rare and valuable resources were prioritized, with all of the proceeds going to fuel the constant expansion. Planets that weren’t needed or strategically unimportant could be sold to the PTO. Likewise, natives of conquered planets were genocided with far less regularity than I’d feared. 

Instead, they were sold en mass to the PTO or other interested parties. I'm not sure if that was better, but it was something. I guess. 

Mid-class warriors, more often than not, served the role of generals who had a tendency to lead from the front. They were usually in charge of a singular army and fleet, which they wielded at the behest of either the King himself or a High-Class Saiyan. Meanwhile, a High-Class Saiyan could oversee a multi-world front and coordinate appropriately when going against more established empires that had more than a few planets or star systems to their name. 

There was still that mercenary attitude, however. Sometimes, Saiyan armies were hired out to the highest bidder. Other times, conquests were paused in exchange for tithes or large enough bribes. Mid-Class warriors had to entice the Low-Class to join whatever army they were leading, but High-Class could conscript, which is why there were so many general contracts for freelance mercenaries. And likewise, just as I thought they would, the High and Mid-Classes reserved the best independent contracts for themselves. 

All of it was enough to give me a very clear idea of what kind of power I had been given, and it was enough to start giving me ideas. Especially when Okarot, Ginge, and Mayze causally talked about going to war and invading planets. 

“Okarot… Ginge…” I began, mulling over the idea. It was an objectively terrible one. Largely because I understood the numbers involved. The Saiyan Empire did, in fact, possess an economy, and it was fueled by constant expansion. Warriors like them confessed that they didn’t see a point in money or getting paid beyond occasionally using it to buy exotic food, but at the upper levels, money absolutely mattered. I could only imagine how much it would cost to feed tens of thousands of Saiyans. 

“We’re in, Boss!” Okarot said, thumping his chest. 

“Yeah!” Ginge agreed, neither of them even letting me finish. Mayze and the others were even eagerly nodding along, already suspecting what I was going to say. 

A smile twitched at my lips, “Okay. In that case, I want you to put out some feelers, alright? I want to recruit as much as I can from our tribe. I have a ship called the Rebel Moon that’s in orbit that could probably fit as many as… Ten? Twenty thousand people? It’s going to be getting repaired for the next couple of weeks, so see who’d be interested in joining up until then.”

““““““You got it, Boss!””””””

I hadn’t meant right now, but the six of them suddenly darted away like the devil himself was nipping at their heels. They were on a mission, and I got the distinct feeling that they were going to hunt down every single former member of our tribe and drag them back by force if needed. 

Ah, this was such a bad idea. Like, genuinely terrible. But… it was worth doing. I found myself reflecting on Master Ulf’s words -- about the nature of responsibility. I’m not sure if this was my responsibility, much less the fate of the Saiyan race, but I had started this path. So, it was only natural that I would see it through. 

Though…

I wasn’t going to war. I had no plans to conquer planets and enslave populations to feed the war machine. Meaning that I really needed to figure out a way to provide for what I’m guessing was going to be a very large population boom on the Rebel Moon. My repair bills were going to skyrocket. Not to mention, odds were I was going to need to quickly expand the Rebel Moon to accommodate what would effectively be an army of Saiyans…

“My poor savings…”

…

“What are you even thinking?! The numbers are supposed to go up, Tarble! UP!” Raditz shouted, immediately not a fan of my latest idea. I was relieved to see that his concerns were similar to mine. I also liked it when the numbers went up, especially when my bank account got another zero added to it. The feeling was almost as good as a zero being added to my power level. 

“Raditz, don't raise your voice in the house,” Gine requested gently from the kitchen. She and Bardock had moved in the years since we left. While there probably wasn't a building on Planet Vegeta that wasn't half a ruin, minus Castle Vegeta, the one Gine lived in now was a big step up. Several times larger and at the top floor with a wide open balcony, which made it easy to access with flight. 

“Sorry, Mom,” Raditz immediately acquiesced. “Tarble, are you even thinking about the budget?” Raditz continued to yell at me in a stage whisper.

He was such a mama's boy. It was adorable. “Do you really think I'd do something like this without a plan?” I asked, hoping the others had a fraction of the blind faith Okarot and Ginge had shown. 

Cabba offered me a thin but knowing smile while Caulifla laughed so hard it was a wonder she didn't bust a gut. Meanwhile, Kori and Dende watched on as they seemed to think about the idea. 

“Hurtful. But fair,” I admitted with a shrug. “But I do have a plan. Or an idea. Most of the kids that we met back in the Wilds are already closing in on Mid-Class, and even with the new requirements to become a warrior, most of the kids fresh out the Wilds are stronger than we were back when we dealt with the Citadelians.” 

At that, Kori perked up and I could almost see the realization strike her that we were magnitudes stronger than we had been when we near effortlessly crushed the fleet that sieged her home planet. 

“So, I'm thinking a mercenary company,” I said, starting my pitch. It was the best thing that I came up with on the flight over. “We made some inroads with the Galactic Patrol. We already made a name for ourselves as prizefighters. We always had our pick of contracts, but now I think we’ll turn the Rebel Moon into a mobile hub for our mercenary company. We send out small teams for smaller jobs, and show up in force for the bigger ones. Meanwhile, we continue to train the younger kids until they're Mid-Class.” 

It would be an expansion on what we were already doing. We had about thirty-five million in savings, twenty-five of which came from the last tournament I had won. That was enough to retrofit most of the empty space on the Rebel Moon and complete the repairs needed. But, the issue there was we wouldn't have a safety net when it came to actually feeding thousands of Saiyans, or repairing the ship when they inevitably broke something. 

Something that wasn't lost on the others as Raditz crossed his arms, “We did well but not that well. It sounds like if we're gonna do this, then we need to start way smaller. Grab everyone that was in the original tribe and start building up from there. At best, we could get enough contracts for a hundred teams, but that would leave thousands draining our resources and profits.” 

He wasn’t wrong. That was a much better way to approach this. Yet…

I had never met Mayze before, but he looked at me with such adoration that it was uncomfortable. He believed in me like I was some childhood hero. I didn't get the others' names, but they had been the same way. 

It was really hard to not want to answer that. And, even more than that, it removed them as a target from King Vegeta’s ire. 

My emotions must have shown on my face because Raditz sighed. “Mom, Dad has a bunch of money, right? Can we use some?” He asked, tilting his head back to look up at Gine as she entered the room with a platter of food. 

She seemed a bit pensive. “Raditz, you know that money is for your father to develop planets once he becomes High-Class, and that should be any day now at the rate he's been going.” I couldn't lie -- it did kinda throw me off how she was treating carving out a little kingdom encompassing entire planets as a DIY project that Bardock had been saving up for. Like it was the equivalent of buying a nice car that needed to be fixed up a bit. 

Beyond that, I was less than surprised that Bardock was experiencing jumps in power since he learned ki sensing. After going through a few zenkais myself by this point, I knew what made them effective. The body needed to feel the difference in power of what it perceived as a predator, and the more broken you were after an encounter, the better the body could rebuild itself.

It also let me see a spread of development, which highlighted how outright bizarre the royal family's development was.

Members of my tribe, without ki sensing or gravity chambers, had power levels around 15k. Roughly what Vegeta had during the Saiyan Saga. That strength came from five years of training and fighting. It was perfectly respectable. 

Bardock's power level, if Gine was to be believed, had jumped from around 30k to near a million in about four and a half years. Going by what I knew of him, he chose challenging contracts that paid well and offered a challenge. That told me how effective ki sensing was when it came to developing a Saiyan's strength. 

Then there was us -- ki sensing, gravity chamber, and magic items that all made our training more effective while encountering powerful foes like Kryptonians. While getting our potential unlocked gave us a noticeable power boost, in the five years we had been active, we had power levels of around three million. Some lower, some higher. That was with metagaming and knowing exactly how to take advantage of our Saiyan heritage.

What's more -- Caulifla and Cabba, at least in Universe 6, were noted to have exceptional talent. There was a reason why Cabba had been chosen for the tournament on Champa's side, both against Beerus and in the Tournament of Power. 

Yet, Vegeta had a power level of sixteen million in his base state. A jump in power five times over what we had gained in the same amount of time. And that was bugging me because I genuinely had no idea how they could have managed it. The only idea that seemed reasonable was that they were abusing the Zenkais, but even that brought up questions of how. Or even what they had that could power level them so quickly. 

But that was something to think on another day. I had much more pressing problems. Like bankruptcy. 

“Has Bardock figured out the Kaioken, yet?” I asked her, making Gine freeze a bit as she set the platter down. Dende looked ill at the plate piled high with meat, clutching at his cup of water like it was a lifeline.

“I, erm…” Gine sweated, “I don't know what you're talking about? The Kaioken? What's that?”

Wow. I see where Raditz and Goku got their inability to lie. 

And that guy really was just stealing all of my techniques, huh? 

“Well, that technique is free, but I have one he'd be willing to pay for,” I said, cupping my hands together before creating a Red Sun. “I found out the Kryptonians’ weakness. You gotta crack their armor to make use of it, though.” 

Gine looked interested at the Red Sun, her expression tightening before she looked at me curiously, “You would sell your techniques?” 

To that, Raditz snorted, “Tarble gives them away. He's just annoyed that Dad stole the Kaioken.” 

“You lot need all the help you can get to keep up with me,” I replied with a grin, dismissing the Red Sun. I looked to Gine, “I've tested it and proven that it works. But… ah, full disclosure -- Bardock will probably want to kill the Kryptonian he's fighting. They didn't react well when they learned that I found one of their weaknesses.” I imagine that they had a kill order on me. Qur-Ek had been pissed. 

Gine nodded slowly, and I could see her thinking it over, “I can send him a message?” 

Perfect. Even better, Bardock was going to be so annoyed when he figured out I was selling him a version of the Power Ball. I had no idea how deep Bardock's pockets ran, but hopefully it would be enough to get my mercenary business off the ground. Give us some breathing room without needing to compromise on the kind of contracts that we would take. 

Maybe I could even convince him to join up? 

My thoughts about our immediate future were interrupted when I sensed someone coming our way. The amusement bleeding off my face wasn't missed by the others. “Boss, is there something-” 

Cabba cut himself off as a guest arrived on the balcony. He wasted no time opening the door and I heard Gine suck in a sharp breath. 

“Who are you?” Caulifla questioned, narrowing her eyes at the intruder. “You can't just barge into people's rooms like that, you know?” 

“I can because everything on this planet belongs to me and my father,” Vegeta sneered. “And I am your prince, fool. Learn to recognize your betters.” 

“Huh?!” Caulifla started to rise from her seat but Raditz pulled her back down. And I think I saw where I inherited my ability to piss people off -- King Vegeta made sure to pass that gene on to both me and Vegeta. 

“What brings you by? Is it what I said to the King? Because I meant it and I'm not sorry,” I said, hopping off my chair to bring Vegeta's attention to me. I didn't at all care for how Gine completely locked up. She was afraid. Afraid of Vegeta's mere presence. 

Vegeta scowled at me, “Even if you regretted your words, it would be too late to take them back, even if you dropped to your knees and begged.” 

Raditz shot a look at me, “Tarble… did you piss off the King?” 

I decided not to answer that question. “Well, what brings you by, Vegeta?” 

“Prince Vegeta,” Vegeta corrected with a mild glare. “And you require a teacher to control your Oozaru transformation. Come with me, Tarble. Once I teach you, you can teach the rest of this trash.” 

He turned around and walked away with the expectation that I would follow. And the provocation aside, he was right. Mastering the Oozaru transformation had big appeal. Partly because of the SS4 transformation, but also… big monke. 

‘Things are fine. Relax here for a bit, okay? If you could, check how much it'd cost to retrofit the Rebel Moon and keep an eye on the recruitment efforts, alright?’ I thought at them with telepathy, following Vegeta as I gave them a grin and a thumbs up. I could see their visible uncertainty as they could feel how strong Vegeta was, but they nodded back at me, confident that I had the situation in hand. 

“Take a deep breath,” Vegeta commanded. “It's too dangerous for you to transform into the Oozaru on Planet Vegeta, so we'll fly to the traditional training grounds. It's Vegeta III in the system. We've pushed several moons in orbit and terraformed the surface to make it perfect for our needs.” 

I had to fight a smile -- that was another Vegeta to the list. A prince, a king, a castle, city, planet… and it being Vegeta III implied that there was a Vegeta II. I had to push my amusement to the side as I took a large gulp of air before the two of us flew straight up. 

Navigating space was really difficult. Even within navigating the same system. Everything was so far away that it was really easy to miss a planet because you couldn't see it in a sea of stars. However, it did have its own perks. 

You never realized how much wind resistance slowed you down until you could fly without it. I don't think I had achieved FTL speeds or anything, but you could fly fast in space. You always maintained your previous speed, even when you powered down to conserve energy. While I hadn't quite gotten the hang of space travel without a ship, Vegeta had as he took us straight to Vegeta III. 

The planet was barren, but it had a breathable atmosphere, I found after a quick ten-minute trip through space. The surface was a brown stone that had a fuzzy green moss to act as grass here and there. And I saw what he meant by it being the traditional training ground for the Oozaru transformation because I saw gigantic paw prints and signs of devastation. 

“The trick is simple. You might be a soft hearted fool, but you possess potential,” Vegeta uttered, touching down upon the planet beside me. “You must remain in control of your rage and bloodlust like this: Hnnh!” 

“That easy?” I echoed, resisting the urge to look up at the light blue sky. 

“It should be. Regardless of your foolish, idiotic opinions on the matter, you are our father's son. It is impossible to think father could produce progeny that could be mediocre, like those cretins you cling to.” Vegeta replied, sneering at me with crossed arms. 

I cocked my head at him -- I might be letting my knowledge of his character from the anime giving me a bias, but… Vegeta sounded jealous rather than genuinely angry. It was convincing enough that I decided to test the waters a bit. 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Veg,” I said, making Vegeta sputter. 

“I am Prince Vegeta! Not Veg! Don't call me that,” he growled in my direction, and I had to swallow a laugh. 

“Eh, I figure if you were that mad about it, you'd just kill me,” I pointed out. Vegeta, prior to his exposure to Earth, was the pinnacle of everything wrong with the Saiyan race. He was vain, arrogant, cruel, ruthless, and utterly without mercy. He had murdered Nappa, one of the few remaining Saiyans and a comrade of decades, for merely losing a fight. That Vegeta, I had no doubt would have killed me for addressing him so casually. Or try to kill me, at least. 

“Don't tempt me, Tarble,” he muttered darkly, looking away. “I'm staying my hand only because I expect you to realize your foolishness and accept your rightful place in the family.” 

“I don't mind considering you a brother, Vegeta,” I told him, catching him off guard. “I just won't accept him as my father.” 

Vegeta held my gaze for a moment before he tsked, “Hurry up and transform. Fool.” 

I chuckled before I tilted my head back to look up at the sky above. Just as Vegeta said, the sky was filled with moons of various sizes and stages -- there were full moons, crescent moons, and… 

“Oh,” I gasped, feeling something begin to well up inside of me. Something that couldn't be contained by my body, forcing it to grow. I couldn't tell if it hurt or not because everything was being drowned out by a roaring in my ears as my vision went red. 

Something dark and violent swelled up from within me. The urge to kill. To destroy. To DOMINATE- 

…

…

…

…

“Ugh,” I groaned, finding myself lying on my face. The feeling was only comparable to a hangover with a pounding headache and a sense of soreness across my body, like it was one giant pulled muscle. 

“Pathetic. Have you ever even gone Oozaru before?” Vegeta questioned, and I saw him standing over me with his arms crossed. 

“That was the first time,” I admitted. 

He snorted, “It shows. You rampaged for twelve hours without any control.” Twelve hours? Dang. “Try again,” he demanded, kicking me over, and I looked up at the sky- 

…

…

…

…

“Ugh…!” The feeling of a hangover was much worse this time. My body felt like a slinky that had been stretched a little too far and couldn’t quite return to its proper shape. Beyond that, even when I had been bracing for it, that storm of violent intent had still caught me off guard. 

I liked to think I was a pretty even-keeled kind of guy. I was a little stupid, sure, and I was definitely impulsive, but I was mostly on the level. Like Cabba. 

But that… I had never experienced murderous rage before. The idea that you could get so blinded by anger that you lose control of yourself? I had been pissed off before, sure. I had been angry. However, I hadn’t ever experienced true rage. Not like that. 

“Better,” Vegeta said before grabbing me by the hair and forcing me to look up at the sky. 

The rage came back like a flood that wanted nothing more than to obliterate everything that I could see. There was no source for the rage. No one target that it could be unleashed upon, so it desired the destruction of everything. I tried to brace myself against it, building a damn to keep that tidal wave of rage at bay, but it smashed right through it like it was made of a pile of twigs. 

I lost myself once more.

…

…

…

“Your bouts are getting smaller,” Vegeta acknowledged, and it was his voice that told me that I was conscious. “You only rampaged for four hours that time. You’re learning how to end the transformation. That’s the first step. Now, do it again.”

This time, he didn’t need to force me to look at the sky. I turned my gaze up, looking at a full moon, and once more, I felt the transformation begin. I built the damn better this time. Fortifying it now that I was starting to understand what I was dealing with. 

My body started to grow, a low growl escaping me from the back of my throat as stone crumbled underneath my hands that turned into claws. My vision went red- 

It was then the damn I built cracked and the rage came spilling forth. 

…

…

“Again.”

…

…

“Again.”

…

…

“Agai-”

“I know, I know,” I muttered, starting to get irritated with the repeated failures. I knew what I had to do, I just needed to do it. I got closer every single time, but I kept slipping. The rage of the Oozaru was potent, and it would punish the slightest of slips. Given what I knew of DBZ Vegeta, it was more surprising that he was able to control the transformation at all. That level of self-control was something I hadn’t expected of him. 

“If you know, then get it over with already. I don’t have much time left to waste on you,” Vegeta replied from above. Every time I blacked out, I woke up in a completely different location. It was impossible to tell how long I had been going at it, but it felt like days. 

Pushing aside my irritation, I took in a slow breath to calm myself down. It was self-control. Keeping a clear mind despite the overwhelming rage of the transformation. I shouldn’t be frustrated. If anything, I should look at it as an opportunity to train my mind. My self-control and mental defenses were being tested, unlike anything I had experienced, and it was much better now than later, when it could be far less convenient with stakes much higher. 

Tilting my head back, I once more looked up at the sky and the dozens of moons above. The transformation kicked in, and my body grew. Fur covered my limbs while I swelled in size, growing larger and larger and larger. My vision went red, power flooding my veins along with the intoxicating mix of mindless rage. Brick by brick, I built the damn to keep out the rage, and once more it slammed against the damn. 

Only this time, it held. 

For the first time, I could fully feel what it was to transform into the Oozaru, and through red-tinted eyes, I looked around at a much different vantage. The rage was still there, bubbling like a simmering pot that was just waiting for an excuse to boil over. My gaze drifted down to my hands, seeing the massive paws instead of my pale pink and calloused palms. 

My time with the Kaioken taught me to expect pain with a transformation, but there wasn’t any. My body felt stronger. Sturdier. It felt natural. However, there was one thing that stood out to me. My ki. If ki was water, and magic was sand, then the ki of the Oozaru was clay. It was sluggish and dense, and it resisted my commands, forcing me to mold it with great difficulty. 

“Hm. As expected, it only took you a few days,” Vegeta remarked, flying nearby. It was kinda hard to hear his voice, though. He was pretty tiny. Actually, how big was I? Judging by Vegeta and the cliffs nearby… I didn’t seem to be a proper kaiju. Maybe in the ball park of a hundred feet tall or so? Still quite large, but not quite Godzilla-sized. “Can you say something?”

There was a twitch in the pot of rage, taking the words as a provocation and demanding to answer it with violence. I swallowed that down and instead spoke with a voice that didn’t feel like my own. “Something.”

I think I heard Vegeta huff with amusement, but I couldn’t tell. “Very clever,” he replied. “This is the Oozaru transformation. The power of our people. It will take some getting used to-” 

Vegeta cut himself off when I cupped my hands, and I started to channel my ki to my palms. It was slow. Sluggish. For the first time, it felt like my ki was actively resisting my commands. But, all the same, a jade green ball of light flickered above my hands. It seemed small to me, but I realized that the ball of ki was probably bigger than a house. 

“Already you’re attempting to master Matillo’s technique?” Vegeta questioned, and he sounded impressed despite himself. 

“Who- oh, the old guy,” I replied with a loud, thunderous voice, even though I was trying to speak softly. 

“Yes. The old guy. The oldest Saiyan alive and the trusted right hand of our ancestor, King Vegeta the First,” Vegeta replied drily. “He alone is able to use his energy as an Oozaru beyond using it for mouth blasts. Not even his descendants have mastered the technique.”

I could see why. It felt like there was a natural pathway for my ki -- from my stomach to my mouth. Trying to move it anywhere but that pathway, I was met with stiff resistance. It was very different from what I expected. How the Kaioken functioned was a ki multiplier, which was exactly as it sounded -- it multiplied my base amount of ki, which in turn made me faster, stronger, and more durable. 

This was different. My ki was heavier. Denser. While I did have more ki, and I’m pretty sure it was a 10:1 ratio, it felt like that 10:1 ratio was my base form level of ki. That had me very curious because… it meant that I could probably use the Kaioken as an Oozaru. And that was a very intriguing idea. 

Easier said than done, though, as the ball of ki flickered before an explosion rang out. I felt a vague impact, enough to let me know that I did feel the explosion, but not much more than that. Meanwhile, the surrounding area was annihilated with a shockwave ringing out like a nuke had just gone off. And I realized it wasn’t like a nuke -- that small little ki ball probably had a bigger explosion than a nuke. 

“For obvious reasons,” Vegeta continued, unbothered by the explosion as he protected himself with a ki shield. 

“My bad,” I apologized, deciding that I should leave the experimentation for later. Taking in a slow breath, I tried to will the transformation to end. I thought it would be a little more complicated than that, but sure enough, I began to shrink down until I stood back in my normal body, standing naked in what had been one of my footprints. As soon as I was back to normal size, Vegeta threw me some clothes. 

“What a waste,” Vegeta noted, standing at the edge of the footprint. “You have potential, Tarble. You’ve managed to come this far with your own methods of growing stronger, but they’re nothing compared to the secrets of the royal family.”

I see. I had wondered what Vegeta was doing -- I didn’t quite believe that there was no one else who could teach me how to control the Oozaru transformation. Or, rather, prevent me from blowing up the planet as an Oozaru. But now I saw it. He wanted me to apologize to his father and become a prince. 

He tipped his hand with how he said the words. It was very similar to how his father spoke -- like he was dangling a bone in front of a dog.

“Meh, I’ll catch up,” I dismissed the idea of crawling back to King Vegeta out of hand. I’d much rather die. “Actually, speaking of getting stronger -- you wanna know my secrets? I’ll tell you if you promise not to tell King Vegeta. I don’t need that guy growing any stronger before I can kick his ass.”

Vegeta recoiled as if I struck him, “You- do you even understand what you’re saying? If you have a secret technique to grow stronger, then you should keep it a secret!” He was getting all huffy about it, completely caught off by the offer. And, this time, I actually did understand what I was doing. 

For Saiyans, the road to power was a lonely road. It was one you had to take alone, finding your own way to the summit of the mountain you were climbing. The most you could do was pass down a technique or two to your children, hoping that they would carry the torch a bit further than you. Not because you wanted them to be stronger but because it would prove your own supremacy. 

I also knew exactly how to phrase my response in a sufficiently Saiyan way for Vegeta to understand. “If I need to weaken everyone around me to be the strongest, then I’m not the strongest,” I told him, making Vegeta narrow his eyes as his expression pinched. “Plus, I’m already planning to spread the secret around. It’s part of the reason why my Tribe is the strongest, you know?”

“I’m aware,” Vegeta remarked idly, giving me a mild glare. Your actions are in danger of upending our entire society. You’ve caused Father no end of headaches.”

“Really? Sweet,” I grinned, very pleased with myself as I finished getting dressed. “We didn’t get a chance to talk about it, but he ever say which way he was leaning on how I do things? I figure him raising the graduation cap was a good sign.” The Saiyan armor felt a little weird after so long. My last armor had given out years ago. 

Vegeta seemed like he was debating if he should answer the question before he gave a mental shrug. “As far as I’m aware, he is favoring your… method. Issues aside, our number of warriors has increased sharply, as has their quality. Our father has decided to recall Turles while you’re both here for a comparison, but provided that you can defeat him, I would expect him to decide in your favor.”

I breathed a little easier at that. I had sorta figured, but it was very nice to hear out loud. If things kept progressing how they’ve been, then my old tribe would probably take control over the entirety of the Wilds. I’m not sure what kind of changes would happen because of that, but I was hopeful that King Vegeta wouldn’t be stupid enough to shoot himself in the foot by carrying out his threat against my tribe. 

“Before you foolishly rejected Father’s offer to join the family, he would have informed you of this. You even would have been rewarded,” Vegeta continued, sounding very irritated with my relief. “You would have earned a vacation.”

“I didn’t know Saiyans did vacations,” I replied, blinking uncertainly. “What kind of vacation are we talking about here?”

“That eager to know what you missed out on?” Vegeta said with a smirk in his voice before he shrugged. “It is hardly a secret, so I suppose there is no harm in telling you. A few years ago, our people discovered an interesting planet. The aliens there are rather unique -- most are exceptionally useless, but some boast rare and powerful abilities. What’s more, they possess incredible food.”

I tilted my head, “Alright? Sounds like a pretty normal planet to me so far?”

“Except that this meager planet managed to repel an Appellaxian invasion, which brought it to our attention,” Vegeta informed, catching my attention. The Appellaxians were a bunch of energy beings that invaded planets by using the materials of that planet to form bodies. Their strength varied, but they were very tricky to deal with, even without considering what they could be made of. “Following that, the Elite-Class Saiyan Fennle launched an invasion with fifteen thousand Low-Class Saiyans backed with slave infantry. He was rebuffed, but he brought fascinating news of the planet.”

That was a little more interesting. Dealing with the Appellaxians was one thing. If they were in bodies of stone or wood, then they were a bit meh. But put them in bodies of Nth Metal? Or Katchin? Much bigger deal. However, rebuffing a full Saiyan army? That was enough to earn my full attention. 

“They steadfastly refuse to kill their enemies, instead choosing to imprison them in a proving ritual. Upon escaping their prison, you earn the right to challenge their defenders once more,” Vegeta continued. “They even feed you their delicious food while you are incarcerated.” That was kinda wild, and I was starting to see the appeal. Seems like a fun place -- good food, fun fights, and chill inhabitants?

“Upon Fennle’s return, our father has decided to make invading the planet a reward for the worthy, “ Vegeta said, his lips turning up into a smile at my growing interest. “Every year since, we send a member of the Elite-Class to attack the planet as a reward for worthy service. You, had you not been so foolish, would have been allowed to invade this planet, despite only being High-Class.”

… okay, I had to admit, that did sound a little… intriguing. Not the invading the planet part, but the idea of a vacation seemed nice. It could be a good place to grow stronger, too, so it wasn’t like the time would be wasted or anything. However, there was something in the back of my mind that just… “Vegeta?” 

“Regretting your choices already, little brother?” Vegeta said, his smirk growing into a full smile. 

“What’s the name of the planet?” I asked him, an odd clenching in my gut while Vegeta snorted dismissively. 

“The inhabitants are rather uncreative. They named it Dirt. Dirt of the Sun system,” Vegeta answered, and my jaw slowly dropped as lightning raced down my spine. “Don’t even think of trying to find it yourself, Tarble. Its location is a highly restricted secret. Only I and our father know where to find Planet Dirt. You’ll have to wait until you become Elite-Class to have a chance of being sent there.”

Planet Dirt of the Sun system. 

Planet Earth of the Sol system. 

Oh…

Oh no.