Attention all proud warriors! Have you ever considered becoming part of the time patrol? As a Time Patroller, you'll prevent history from being changed. Our duty is to protect everyone's memories and help return history to the way it should be. But we need your help! The only requirements are confidence in your capabilities and of course a strong desire to protect history. We've got a school for honing your skills and a fully equipped item shop! How about it? Why not use your strength to help out a great cause? Ahem. We're always on the lookout for powerful warriors! Okay, then. Listen carefully. To maintain safety here in Conton City, home to the Time Patrol, there are a few rules you must keep. First, firing a Kamehameha within the city limits is prohibited. Time Patrollers wishing to fly when not on duty are required to obtain a flying license. Please help keep Conton City safe by obeying its traffic laws. Lastly, any alteration of history's a grave offense. Our missions come at the risk of changing history. So you must exercise the upmost caution. Avoid making changes in history like Trunks did. Keeping those in mind, please carry out your missions safely. For the sake of this world and its history. We look forward to welcoming each of you to the Time Patrol!

First Impressions

(and a whole lot of boredom)

Around the Capsule Corp estate, a wild-haired youth wanders. This isn't the original Capsule Corp, but a time rift, pulled from one of the many thousands of branching timelines. It had become a popular space among Patrollers with Saiyan heritage. Somewhere nearby, the resident and CEO of Capsule Corp banters with her husband. Though, their conversation was only background noise for this young man. This youth is Hayate, one of this year's graduates from the Patroller Academy.

A couple of former classmates were having a sparring session overhead, much to the dismay of the property owner and resident, Bulma Brief. Her husband on the other hand seemed almost entertained. Hayate's blood burns at the possibility of a fight, but his much more timid mind quickly shuts the thought down.

Hayate, like many of his classmates, was eager to finally be assigned a mission. His eagerness was especially strong, which could be credited to his Saiyan blood, despite only making up an eighth of his genes. No matter how small, Saiyan fighting spirit was strong and could be found in just about anyone in the warrior race's bloodline. Despite being on the shy side, Hayate was no exception. It was only a matter of time before he was picked for his very own mission… probably.

On another rift, another class graduate sits in silence, patiently awaits an assignment. This rift was the residence of Earth's fabled World Champion, Mark "Hercule" Satan. The burly man lived in a frankly huge estate, which had become popular hangout spot for humans of the Time Patrol. It was often visited by Namekians and Majins as well, since tales of the Champ's supposed feats tended to spread through the worlds. It was also the meeting place of a hero team renowned on Earth across many timelines, the Great Saiyamen.

This silent youth, Maverick, was a pure-blooded human. Rather, he was. Despite being assigned as a human in his file, Maverick was an artificial human. He always hated that name though and always preferred simply being called a cyborg. It made him feel slightly more whole.

In the corner of his eye, a former classmate practices some strange looking technique over the surface of a massive pool. The things people did to pass the time totally confused Maverick at times. He had been patiently waiting on the property for about three days now. Were others simply incapable of sitting still? Maverick lets out a sigh, the only audible thing he'd done over the past four hours. Even the Patroller Academy wasn't this dull…

Hundreds of thousands of miles away, another rift floats in space. An absolutely massive ship hovers above the atmosphere of an unnamed planet. Onboard this ship, a galactic tyrant known as Frieza resides, controlling his army in comfort. Also onboard this ship were many Patrollers, a handful of whom had just graduated. These Patrollers were masquerading as Frieza Force soldiers, and the new graduates were unlucky enough to be recruited as foot soldiers. On the fortunate side, this variant of Frieza wasn't quite as ruthless or psychotic as his counterparts from other timelines. This was evident by the lack of casualties in the ship.

A particular, teal-skinned recruit silently wished for space debris to hit the ship as her overseeing officer, Raspberry, chewed her out for the umpteenth time. She hadn't even been on the job for three full days, but somehow the officer always found something to nitpick. In this moment she longs with all her heart for a promotion so she could finally be rid of the annoying officer and his stupid helmet. Maybe she could even get to work under Zarbon, a member of her race.

This recruit, a young lady by the name of Valencia, was a member of a rather small race called Citrans. Zarbon was among this race, as was a notorious criminal wanted by the Galactic Patrol named Yuzun. Though not all Citrans were criminals, conquering generals, or mass murderers, nearly all of them carried a sense of pride. This pride often became narcissism, but who cares? It was for a good reason. They were a beautiful race after all.

A shout from Raspberry quickly snaps Valencia out of her thoughts. She longed all the more for a promotion, or at the very least a new mission.

In the recovery room on that very ship, a young Arcosian wishes he was asleep in one of the healing tanks. Raspberry was constantly chewing out recruits, and quite a voice he had. He groans as he types in the password for one of the tanks, opening it for an injured officer returning from a mission. Surprisingly, the officer gave him a nod of appreciation before being sealed in the tank and going under.

The young Arcosian, Skorch, silently thanked the officer. Medic duty was a boring and thankless job. Skorch still had no idea why he was assigned the job. As an Arcosian, his battle power was innately high. Not to mention he was a mutation, with said mutation earning him his name. In contrast to most Arcosians, Skorch's skin and carapace took on warm colors. His bio armor was a light orange, with his hardplates taking on a deep scarlet. While most Arcosians had red eyes or irises, his eyes were a vibrant yellow. His unordinary traits had gained the attention of Frieza himself, if only for a split second. But, for whatever, reason, Skorch had been put on one of the least active jobs possible – medic duty.

Skorch stopped his grumbling to take another look at the officer in the tank. The beginnings of a smile creeped onto the corner of his lips, just for a moment. Maybe the job wasn't as bad as he originally perceived. It was only his third day on the job, but who knows? Maybe the Frieza Force wasn't all bad.

Though, he still wondered why it was taking so long to be given a real Patroller assignment.

On a strange rift far from the others, an even stranger house sits in the middle of nowhere. Apparently the clay building was supposed to be a dog, but nobody could really see it except the maker and resident of the home, Majin Buu. Buu was considered pretty odd himself though. At least by everybody but his brethren, the Majins. The rift containing Buu's home was extremely popular among Majins. One particular Majin lady sat on top of the "snout" of Buu's house, swinging her legs without a care.

This Majin, Mimo, was still totally ecstatic that she managed to become a Patroller. She had just barely passed the Academy final exam with a score of 75. Mimo two of the three exam segments with flying colors… minus the written one, which she completely bombed. She wasn't exactly the brightest bulb in the box, but she could care less. Mimo only wanted to help people, and she did that quite well. Was a 49/100 really that bad a score anyway? She almost got half of it right!

Mimo's stomach grumbled in protest at the lack of junk food – a vice that crippled most Majins. She sighs and drops down to the ground, waltzing around to find someone to beg for food. She could really go for a beer right now too… A mission would be nice. And missions meant food money! Or beer money. She hadn't decided yet.

A/N

If it wasn't painfully obvious already, this is my first real attempt at a fanfic. I've always enjoyed writing and made attempts in the past but could never really get the story going how I wanted. After some world building and a whole lot of self-doubt, I'm giving this another try. For those who don't know, this story takes place in the Xenoverse 2 universe (that sounds weird to say out loud.) Is this just a collection of OCs? Pretty much (please don't leave me.) But, I'll do my best to make these characters and this story as interesting as a physically can. Please don't expect them to be anything like the Conton City hero in terms of personality or power. It'd be boring if they were all unstoppable aces that could fight Super level threats in base. It's not going to be the plain old XV2 story mode, either. This is going to take place in age 853, one year after the Conton City Hero beats Mira. This is a totally new class of Patrollers, sort of like freshmen. "Youth" and similar adjectives are used to describe them because, well, they're young. They're basically fresh out of high school (I'd imagine the Patroller Academy functions similar to a high school – think UA from My Hero or Duel Academy from Yu-Gi-Oh.) This story will be as unique as I can make it while still keeping it related to Xenoverse and its plotlines. This chapter is a bit short, I know, but it's merely meant to be an introduction of the main cast. I'd like to have the opportunity to flesh out the characters a little more, so I kept things brief and a bit ambiguous. Chapters won't be crazy long, so I hope to publish 2 per week (hopefully I can get another one out by tomorrow.) All that aside, I am totally open to tips and suggestions, and I hope you'll enjoy my story.