Yo, a couple things:
1: Power Levels are somewhat reworked in this. Quite a simple change in that you need a PL far higher than what they had in the Saiyan Saga to destroy planets.
2: The Dragon Balls will be incredibly rare, and Earth does not have a set.
3: Influenced and inspired from Going Native by Ideas-Guy. Probably the best DBZ fic I've ever read, and I would highly suggest giving it a look.
That is all. Enjoy.
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I expected the sight of a hospital room and the smell of antiseptic to flood my nose as I woke up. For my family to be there waiting for me to wake up with smiles on their face and get well soon cards from my friends and other relatives.
Instead, my eyes burned as a warm liquid flooded into them and filtered oxygen was pumped into my lungs from the mask on my face.
My mind went into a panic at the thought that I had somehow awoken mid-surgery and was about to see what my insides would look like before they stitched me up. Only I realized as my vision cleared and the burning went away that not only was I not on the operating table, but I was apparently in some kind of tank filled with liquid.
Interesting.
For a split second, I thought maybe this was some kind of new machine that the hospital had thrown me in for recovery. Perhaps it was designed to be a clean environment filled with antiseptic fluid to keep the possibility of infection low after surgery?
Weird I'd never heard of it though.
That line of thought was discarded when I brought my hands up to my face. What should have been a pair of hands littered with calluses, small scars, and a tan from years of working and scraping was instead now small, pale, and wrinkled.
Did I just get reincarnated?
Which meant that I had died while in surgery I suppose. Heh, just my luck to die during some stupidly routine surgery that the doctors should have been able to do with their eyes closed.
Lights started blinking in the corner of my vision and I noticed a small touch screen in the corner of the pod that seemed to be displaying a mass of different numbers. The letters and numbers definitely weren't English or any kind of language I had ever seen, yet I still could understand them mostly for some odd reason.
Well, I supposed if I was a baby in a pod, that would indicate higher levels of tech wherever I was. So maybe the info was being loaded into my brain?
Looking at the monitor in closer detail, I noted the several readings it was giving out. Heart rate, oxygen levels, blood pressure, and what I assumed was brain activity were there and spiking dramatically from their earlier levels before I woke.
Only there was one more meter with a simple number display and two letters that were also being monitored. It had a single digit of what my brain translated as the equivalent of 1 next to it. As for the letters…
What did PL stand for?
My little investigation was rudely interrupted as the sound of a door sliding open made itself known outside of the pod.
"Huh well, what do you know? Didn't expect this one to wake up for another half solar cycle." A man's voice mumbled out loud, "Must be an early riser."
My eyes flashed away from the screen and to the glass viewport in my pod to see who had disturbed me. It seemed to be two doctors who were boredly checking off charts, instead of the mad scientist I had pictured who was coming to check on his experiment.
The both of them also had a tail wrapped neatly around their waist.
A wave of understanding came over me and I twisted my head as far back as the mask attached to my face would allow me. To my now resignation I saw a little tail attached firmly to my backside.
Reincarnation indeed.
I couldn't quite tell if it was some kind of blessing or punishment that I was reborn as a Saiyan.
"Readings say the kid has unusually high brain activity levels. Cognitive functions are going off the chart as well. Ha! At least he seems to have brains to make up for that abysmal fucking power level." The man chuckled as he talked to his partner, "Seriously it's been over a decade since a Saiyan's been born as weak as this one. It's a shame, back in the old days he would've been on the front of the list to blast to an outer rim world and clear it."
"Come on now, he could end up being strong. You've heard how Bardock ended up and he was born low class as well." The other Saiyan argued on my behalf.
That was rather unfortunate. It slipped my mind that Saiyans sent those who are born exceptionally weak to other worlds to try and wipe them out. To see if they could prove their worth by clearing said planet. That was rather worrying for me considering that with a power level of 1 I'd only have a total of 10 even if I transformed into the giant monkey form.
In essence, I was screwed if I went anywhere with sufficiently advanced tech or decent fighters.
Wait… "back in the old days"?
"Yeah and Bardock grew that strong because he was constantly sent out on his own as a child. He was constantly in do-or-die situations with no support." The Saiyan said with a resolute tone, "King Vegeta and the Council passing that law banning the practice years ago will hurt us in the future, mark my words."
"Eh, I agree with it.", The other Saiyan shrugged, "Cultivating more Saiyans for the future and making sure they don't die means the ones with lots of potential won't get killed by some fluke as kids. Though I don't see how sending them all to orphanages like they've been doing really helps much."
Well, that was good…. I think.
It really was both good and bad news. I was incredibly weak and an orphan. Two things that weren't great even as a human, much less in a species of battle monkeys so bloodthirsty that they'd make a Chaos god blush.
But at the same time, I wasn't going to be rocketed at a planet as a tactical nuke.
Though as my eyes drifted to the screen in my pod, I let out a sigh. Really, a PL of 1? That really was just kinda pathetic.
Maybe I was just a late bloomer?
5 Years Later:
Beep* Beep* Beep*
"Your power level has jumped to 395." The man stated as he adjusted the setting on his scouter, "Not bad for a low-class orphan. You might actually even get picked up for one of the low-level strike teams today if you're skilled enough to make up the power difference."
I grimaced at the power level. While I knew that the older Saiyan in front of me was right, it was still frustrating as all hell to have such a low level of power after years of work. Even if I was technically stronger than Goku was when Raditz came to visit.
A rather hard smack impacted the top of my head and I growled in pain at the sharp jolt of pain that rang through my head.
"Oi, I said chin up brat. You might still be pathetically weak, but at least you're not going to get sent to the laborers or tech guild. Now go and put on your issued armor, the strike team reps will be here soon." The man ordered as he walked off.
Grumbling to myself, I made my way back to the shared bay where all the Saiyan orphans lived. A normal orphanage on Earth would have at least had the decency to give the kids room's to live in, even if they were often shared. Not Saiyans though. They thoroughly just didn't give a shit and honestly, there were just too many orphans for it to not be easier to just shove us in shared living bays.
A ramification of the law that had banned the use of sending Saiyan babies to clear planets from what I had learned. Now that they weren't just using kids as tactical nukes, the population had surged, primarily among orphans.
Because in a surprise to no one who knew about Saiyans, most Saiyan parents didn't want to claim children who were weak enough to be sent off on planetary purging missions anyway when the practice was being used. Now that it wasn't a thing anymore, they definitely didn't want to deal with us.
Hence the rise in orphanages.
It was… interesting to say the least. Because that wasn't canon Dragon Ball as far as I knew.
That shouldn't have surprised me though. Because you know what also wasn't canon DB?
The fact that the Saiyan race seemed to be a multi-planet species with an empire that wasn't under Frieza. Something that I learned rather quickly when I found out that the planet I was on wasn't planet Vegeta. It was just some farming colony that Saiyans sent the weak, slaves, and laborers to. From what I had heard it was literally at the edge of the empire in bumbfuck nowhere.
And I was just unlucky enough to be left in a gestation tank here.
Reaching my bunk and putting on my battle suit and old scouter model, I carefully slipped my tail through the hole in the back part and then through the armored belt designed to protect it.
"Arlic…you're gonna win today right?" A meek voice from behind me asked.
Yeah, that's right, in keeping up with the Saiyan naming scheme, the caretakers had put down the name Arlic on my profile and documents. Well, at least it was a pun on a tasty vegetable.
Turning around I smiled at the incredibly small Saiyan child who was looking up at me. A descriptor that was no exaggeration. Saiyan's even as children were still generally gifted with larger and toned muscles than most other species had at their young ages.
Yet the little Saiyan girl in front of me was thin as a rail and far shorter than any Saiyan her age had the right to be. If it wasn't for her tail and long locks of spiky raven hair, I would have doubted she was a Saiyan in general.
The runt of the proverbial litter.
It was something she constantly got bullied and picked on for by the other children. Fortunately, she was so adorable that it was all but impossible for me to not help her out when I could.
Which meant that sometimes I had to fight my fellow orphans to the point of physical injury to get them to screw off. Did I feel bad about beating up what were essentially orphaned children? Yeah somewhat. But that feeling went away rather fast when I remembered that Saiyan's loved that kinda shit anyway.
Sometimes they intentionally tried to bully her because they knew it would at least get a fight out of me.
Little shits.
"Of course, I am, Olve." I said as I reached and ruffled her hair to her chagrin, "Then once I make enough money from the military, I'll get us both off this rock."
"Promise?" She asked.
"Promise." I agreed.
"Age group five. Get your butts outside to the sparring grounds now!" A caretaker bellowed, "The recruitment battles begin in 4 minutes."
"Gotta go. See you later kid." I smiled as I ruffled her hair once more.
"Why do you keep calling me that?! I'm only 1 standard cycle younger than you!" She muttered at me indignantly.
I let out a slight laugh as I walked away.
Olve was probably the nicest Saiyan I'd met so far, she was a breath of fresh air in a race made up of bloody battle monkeys. Hopefully, she'd stay that way.
Minutes later I stood side by side with other young Saiyans my age. All of us were armored up and ready to do whatever task was necessary to impress the recruiters and be picked for a strike team.
It made me pretty damn uncomfortable that I was going to be turned into a child soldier that would help raze worlds and enslave others. The human in me blanched at the possibility. My Saiyan biology on the other hand flooded my brain with excitement at the thought. Knowing that beings were going to be fighting with every scrap of ability they could muster to defend their loved ones and world, fighting with a desperation that would only make them more dangerous.
I had to control myself as my limbs tingled from the sheer thought of it.
'Mind over matter.' I repeated in my head, 'My body and its genetic urges don't control me. My mind and soul do.'
The battle against Saiyan instinct was one I could normally win… for now. But years from now it was going to get a lot harder. I had read up on Saiyan biology from publishing's that some of the laborers and technical personal kept in the facilities around here and gotten more general information than I had before. Even if it wasn't much since the Saiyan Empire apparently liked to keep it hushed and science communities from other parts of the galaxy couldn't figure out Saiyan DNA even with their best efforts.
Saiyan DNA, much like Viltrumite DNA, just didn't give a damn when subjected to any kind of test or stress.
The limited studies that did come out though said that Saiyans appeared to get incredibly rowdy and almost uncontrollable once they hit their adolescent period. Behavior that was even further magnified when under intense Blutz Waves from moons or any other celestial bodies. The worst though was when they were exposed to enough waves to be able to transform into the Oozaru form but either were prevented or held themselves back from sheer will.
So basically I was going to experience super puberty.
'God have mercy on my psyche.'
I calmed myself down just as the orphanage's caretakers showed up with 5 other Saiyans in tow. Unlike the armor we wore, theirs was a newer model and was far sleeker. Though I could see the telltale signs of wear and tear of battle that had started to form in certain areas of their gear.
The old scouter given to me beeped as I gave it the order to look at their power levels.
PL: 21,110.
PL: 18,000.
PL: 35,000.
PL: 27,240.
PL: 22,000.
Another thing that stood out besides the Saiyans not being Freiza's slaves was that the Saiyans here were all way more powerful than they were in the show. King Vegeta and Bardock by the time the planet was destroyed were both around 10,000 and that was considered the pinnacle until Prince Vegeta smashed it. Yet the 5 new Saiyans in front of me were well above that and they were considered Low-Class strike forces.
I could only assume that conquering and maintaining their own empire instead of just being someone else's slaves had made the Saiyan Race stronger than they had been.
The limited education I had received said the barrier for entry to Mid Class was currently 50,000 PL, High Class was 100,000, and Elite Class was around 150,000.
Way stronger was an understatement. They were exponentially stronger.
And here I was at a measly 395.
I didn't even want to know what the Royal Family's average power level was.
"Alright brats, you know why you are all here." One of the caretakers shouted out, "A lucky few of you will get to leave this rock behind and join our military forces on the field of battle. The rest of you that don't make the cut. You can either try again next year, eventually try for the strike team academies that those with parents go to, or join the working class in mediocrity."
I'd given that last one a thought when I first had heard it was an option, but I'd quickly dismissed it. Not only were the working class treated only marginally better than the slave class, but in a galaxy full of monsters there was no way I was going to settle for being weak.
"Normally we'd have a bunch of weight exercises and random draw spars to thin you all out." The caretaker continued with a shrug, "But there's a lot of you this year. So instead we're just going to have you all go at it in one big battle royal. Last 5 standing get recruited. You may begin."
There was a beat of silence as all 40 or so of us processed what was just said.
And then it was chaos.
Battle cries rang out around me as everyone turned on each other and I felt my skull rattle from the impact of a fist that slammed into the back of my head.
I grit my teeth as I fell forward with sudden force and fought through the pain of the blow and the pure excitement that purred through my blood that was begging me to go wild and charge the nearest opponent with reckless abandonment.
'I'm in control.'
Catching myself with my off hand and flipping around, I briefly flared my Ki and lashed out with a foot at whoever had just struck me from behind.
Now I'll be the first to say that I wasn't the best at controlling my energy. I didn't have much of it, so there was never really much I could do to practice with it, but what little I did have was enough for me to use when I needed an advantage in a fight.
Such as empowering my body's already superhumanly dense muscles with it briefly.
Whoever hit me either wasn't expecting a return strike or had gotten busy with someone else, because my foot struck home unimpeded and I felt ribs shatter beneath it. My fellow Saiyan child went down with a scream of agony.
One down.
Spinning into a defensive position I looked around and saw that despite being only 10 or so seconds into the battle, over half the kids were already down for the count. Most of them either having been taken out from surprise attacks or just having the bad luck of having to stand next to those with Power Levels way above theirs and the know-how to use it.
Which was about to be my problem.
A girl who was one of the stronger children of my age group was staring me down aggressively and my scouter kindly informed me that I was probably fucked.
PL: 980
She launched herself at me with a snarl and was fast enough to take me to the floor before I could react. She followed it up with a punch that came down hard and fast, filling my mouth with the taste of iron. More punches followed as she seemed intent on turning my head into a pasted smear on the ground.
A particularly strong one that caught the side of my jaw and made the world fuzzy told me I needed to get out of this if I didn't want brain damage.
Wrapping my arms around my face I let her punches rattle the bones in my arms instead of the ones in my skull. With the ability to concentrate now I flared my Ki once again, empowering my leg muscles as launched them upward with all the force I could muster and flipped us with a burst of energy.
It was a move that wouldn't have worked had it been two humans fighting. There was just no way for a non-powered being to get enough leverage or force to flip the person on top of them with just their legs. But Ki was a particularly hard fuck you to conventional physics.
As we rolled on the ground from my flip I positioned myself to her back and wrapped an arm around her neck. There was no way I was going to out punch someone 3X my power level, but there were more ways than one to knock a person out.
Constricting her neck with all the force I could manage, I braced and waited for her to flare her own power in response to try and buck me off. Only it never came. She struggled and bucked like a wild animal, but no Ki empowerment ever came. Meaning she couldn't generate the force needed to break my leverage on her neck.
Huh, I figured with a PL that high she would have known to at least use it moderately.
After a solid minute or two of holding her neck, I felt her wild actions lessen and weaken until they stopped altogether. Holding on a little longer to make sure she wasn't faking it, I finally let go and pushed her off.
Her body fell down a few feet in front of me and I vaguely noted her chest began to rise and fall again. She'd live. Saiyans were hardy creatures after all.
Looking around to see who was next, I was surprised to see only four others standing.
Well… that was fast.
My scouter pinged them and told me the weakest of the four was at 1,300 in PL. Judging by some of the burns on some of the kids I saw around them, they probably knew how to use their energy as well.
Thank Kami, I didn't need to fight them.
"Well, that's that." A caretaker called out to all of us left standing, "You five, get your asses over here and line up."
We all did as he said, though sluggishly in my case. My head was still ringing from all the blows it had taken. It was a fight between that and my Saiyan blood screaming for more to concentrate at all, much less standstill.
The same caretaker continued on, "Congrats brats. You've qualified to potentially be picked and become Saiyans worth a damn. The team captains pick who they want and before you ask, no, you don't get a choice."
With a grunt, he stepped away and the captain with the largest power level stepped forward, "You with the scar on your face, come with me now."
He had picked the kid that had the highest PL in my age group. A whopping PL of 1,900 at the age of 5.
The rest of the captains did much the same, simply picking the kid with the next highest PL until it came down to me and the weakest strike force captain.
She was a little bit different than the others. Besides the fact that she was a female, she seemed far younger than her fellow captains. Where they were all full adults, I'd probably peg her as being an older teenager if I had to guess.
The age gap would explain the slight difference in power I suppose.
"So I get the runt then." She muttered as she looked me over, "Could be worse. You seem to have the basics of fighting and energy manipulation down."
I stayed silent as she stalked forward and lashed out with her hand, grabbing me by the scruff of my neck and lifting me up to where I was face to face with her comparatively towering form. With her other free hand, she tapped her scouter.
"But 395? Jeez, we gotta work on that asap. I can't be babysitting you on missions just so you don't end up getting killed." She huffed out in irritation, "What's your name anyway brat?"
I gulped at the question from the vastly stronger woman, "Arlic."
The irritation on her face bled away slightly and a small savage smirk etched itself into existence, "Well brat I hope you're ready. Because you're about to become quite acquainted with the inside of healing pods. Welcome to the 212th Strike Team."
