Gone Native: Context (ch. 7) (Patreon)

Tim stood in the vast emptiness that was outer space, and around him there was nothing but death. Massive fleets of starships clashed around him in a display of destruction on such a scale that he had never seen before. A ship that was as large as a city exploded when its shields failed, and blueish energy washed over him as his vision went white. As large as the ship that exploded was, it was just a drop in the bucket in the ocean sized conflict going on around him . There were countless others exploding on both sides of the war, a slugging match of incomprehensible size.

For as far as the eye could see, the conflict raged. However, the focus of the camera was centered on a single person.

Tarble. He was young. Five years old. Yet he watched the battle unfold with a calculating gleam in his blazing yellow eyes. The sign of the Wrath State, Tim had previously discovered. A state of being that tapped into the Saiyan's biology, granting increased strength at the cost of incredible pain. Pain that was so intense that it gave Psimon a seizure when he tried to invade Tarble's mind.

There was no sign of it in his posture. He floated in space, a mask covering his face that was connected to an oxygen tank that rested on the small of his back. He was wearing a device known as a 'scouter' over one eye that fed him data about the overall flow of the battle. Coming to a decision, Tarble moved.

There are many reasons why Prince Tarble is beloved by his soldiers -- but, above all the others, it is his willingness to take the most difficult and dangerous tasks himself rather than delegate it to his soldiers. Whereas countless other generals and leaders are content to sit back and watch the battle from afar, Prince Tarble leads not only from the front, but often from behind enemy lines.

To prove this point, Tarble flew to an object floating in space that was about the size of the moon. If the moon was a giant beetle-shaped gun. A fleet of ships hovered around it, each softening up the approaching enemy before the defense platform finished them off passively with automated fire, while the main gun focused on destroying key ships in the Trade Organization fleet.

Scarabs rushed him -- blues like Jamie had been -- only to be demolished by Tarble as he fought his way to destroy the defense platform that was holding up the fleets. The found footage and the edited-in stuff were mixed in nearly seamlesly, but it was fairly easy to pick out which was which when you knew what you were looking for.

It wasn't the first time Tim had seen a similar scene. If anything, he was getting sick of what amounted to repeats regurgitating the same information over and over with only the narration being slightly different.

"You can separate the action from the man," Raven offered as a consolation. She and Beast Boy had powered through their picks. Their notes were similar to his own that he gathered with Control Freak.

Tim frowned, knowing that he was angry. Furious even. One of Batman's most fundamental lessons was separating personal bias from the evidence. To be purely objective. It's what made him one of the greatest detectives in the world. Tim had learned the lessons well, but this case was…

He was separating his personal bias. He was compiling a narrative and a timeline to look beyond the propaganda and bias that the Trade Organization had. He had even picked out a few shows that had been produced by people other than the Trade Organization, and while that came with biases of their own, it had helped Tim shift through the opinionated media to find a baseline. The truth.

If the War of Light had been a World War… if Tarble had been human… then he would have been a war hero. Axis or allies, you could look beyond the side that he fought for and look at the actions he took. He fought the toughest battles, he took on the most challenging tasks, he leveraged his own power and ability to protect his soldiers. As a general and a leader, that trend never changed.

But it felt wrong. This wasn't a good guys vs bad guys. This wasn't a situation where one side was genociding entire ethnic groups, so even at their worst, the Allies looked better in comparison to Nazi Germany and their allies.

The Reach was a vast empire that brainwashed its citizens until they were autonomous drones rather than people. The Trade Organization was a trade empire that enslaved entire species and committed genocide on the ones they didn't have a use for. Both sides were completely, utterly, and irredeemably evil. The entire thing was utterly disgusting on a scale that left Tim breathless -- in the opening skirmishes of the war, the casualties on both sides had outnumbered the entire human population.

"I know," Tim said, letting out a breath. "But I can't," he admitted. There was no lying to Raven. She probably understood what he was feeling better than he did. Garfield made a sound like he understood exactly what he meant, which he probably did.

"I can't accept this," Tim voiced, his words just above a whisper. It revolted him on a fundamental moralistic level. Tarble had done horrible things. Terrible things. It was in no way an exaggeration to say that he was a monster. The sheer amount of blood on his hands beggared belief. No matter what your motivations and intentions were, you couldn't do the things that he did and call yourself a good person.

The countless people he had killed, the entire races that he had enslaved… they deserved justice. Tarble deserved consequences for what he had done during the war.

Tim believed it. He did. But, the evidence he gathered painted a different picture that his morals rejected.

Context mattered. In detective work, the context was the most important thing of all. When Tim separated his moral revulsion at Tarble's actions and put himself in his shoes, the perspective changed a great deal. Tarble had been born weak. Too weak to change anything. Too weak to stop anything. To protect anything.

As he grew stronger, he used that strength to protect others. His team. His soldiers. His race.

When he finally grew strong enough, he changed the course of the war. There was death on a scale that was honestly unimaginable, but from an unbiased view, Tim could admit that it was surgical. Methodical . The war had no end in sight until Tarble became Supreme Commander. Then it ended two years later.

A war that had been started by a genocidal, egotistical, melodramatic maniac that habitually murdered the people under him. Frieza, the previous leader of the Trade Organization. Who Tarble had killed.

Tim felt at odds with himself. Morally, there was nothing that could justify Tarble's actions. But from an unbiased point of view? It was clear that Tarble was doing the best that he could in a terrible situation that didn't allow for anything else.

"He could have run away," Garfield voiced, his tone sullen. He sounded like he didn't believe that either.

"He could have. He could have arranged for his soldiers to go missing in action and send them to locations that they would have been free. Or he could have fled the war entirely," Tim agreed. Tarble did have options. That was undeniable. If Tim had been in his shoes, then he couldn't imagine himself doing what Tarble did. "But he might have. It's not like the documentaries would know."

Raven floated by him, sparing him a glance as the defense platform exploded due to Tarble's efforts. "He started the war. Perhaps he felt obligated to finish it," she said, and that was a possibility.

It was just too different. "We have to take into account his actions after the war -- he killed Frieza. He was second in line to the throne, but now he's King. He succeeded from the Trade Organization. He's here to take over Earth," Tim said, and that was when a different picture started to paint itself .

Was Tarble attempting to seize power? Did he murder his brother and father to become King of the Saiyans? Did he kill Frieza so he would be able to break free of the Trade Organization and rule over his empire with an iron fist?

"He was strong enough to challenge Frieza, so he did so. His brother and father were killed during the fight. He was sick of the Trade Organization, so he left it instead of taking it over. He's here for Earth because, in his eyes, he owns it and we are the ones being unreasonable," Raven voiced a contrary theory behind Tarble's actions. He looked at her, finding that her dark purple eyes were staring right back at him with a dull look .

"Or he's looking for another fight. He challenged his brother and father for the throne. He challenged Frieza for the Trade Organization, but all he could get were his and his brother’s empires. Now he's on Earth to pick a fight with us and the Justice League," Garfield voiced another possibility. All three of their theories were equally valid. Each an interpretation of the events based on their impressions of him.

Control Freak watched on, paying more attention to the documentary than them. Unsurprising considering his love for television. Tim got his attention when he spoke up, "Are Starfire and Kid Flash done?" He asked, earning a half-hearted glance at best.

"Uhhh… yeah, looks like it. Should be a few more minutes to let them experience the finale of War of Love: The Battle for Prince Tarble's Heart," he answered dismissively. Then he caught Tim's look. "Alright, fine. But I'm blaming you. It's actually pretty good. You know, for a Soap Opera," Control Freak said before he used his controller.

In a flash of white, the battlefield in the vacuum of space was gone. They stood in Control Freak's office, standing exactly where they had been. The sound of sobbing caught Tim's attention, making him look to Kori, just in time to see her tears morph into an expression of abject shock, then outright anger.

"We were not finished!" Kori protested, standing next to an emotionally exhausted-looking Wally. "Control Freak-"

"Don't worry, I got you," Control Freak waved the issue away. "I'll send the complete series your way. Just please, do something about the mass-murdering monkey man first," Control Freak requested, tossing Kori a box of tissues that she happily used to blow her nose. She still looked unhappy, but she didn't look angry anymore . Which was good enough for Tim.

Kori nodded, accepting that before all eyes turned to him. The leader of the Teen Titans. Tim met their gazes, and he saw that all of them wanted to take action. They wouldn't be heroes if they were content to watch from the sidelines. But, it was a question of what action would be best.

Batman had told them to back off and let the League handle it. It rubbed Tim the wrong way, but sometimes inaction was the best course of action. He trusted Batman. He trusted the League. But his team also trusted him.

Tim took in a deep breath, "We-" he started, only to be cut off by Control Freak.

"Hold up- I just got an alert," He said, turning to his desk and clicking the notification. A screen popped up displaying an attractive woman with blonde hair sitting at a desk. A scrolling red bar was underneath her, displaying a message labeled Breaking News.

Tim's phone beeped, his own news apps alerting him. He ignored them in favor of looking at the screen.

"This just in -- Is the Justice League gambling with the fate of Earth? Is Earth legally owned by an alien?" She questioned, maintaining her professionalism, but it was clear that she was still shocked by what she was saying. A video played of Tarble dropping a car-sized brick of gold onto the ground before it switched over to a video of a girl doing a TikTok about her serving the 'mega-hot alien.' "A recorded discussion between Superman himself and alien royalty known as King Tarble were overheard discussing the fate of Earth."

Tim recoiled.

Well… clearly the League didn't have this as in hand as he thought they did.

…

"Is the simple act of meeting another sapient species really newsworthy?" I asked Lois Lane as I took a seat, my many coffees in hand. In each hand I had three coffees stacked on top of each other, while my tail carried another three. I was making my way down the menu, intent on finding my own preferences when it came to the sweet beverage. Lois, true to her word, bought me one. Not that it was needed, but it was an appreciated gesture.

Lois took a seat across from me, meeting my gaze easily. "Well, maybe not front-page news -- that's typically reserved for Superman or the Justice League, but an interview with alien royalty?" She cocked an eyebrow at me, hinting that people would be impressed.

Though, I'm not sure why. I've dealt with royalty countless times before. More often than not, it was tempting to just let my mother kill and eat them.

"I suppose. Until recently, this sector of space was an unknown backwater without anything of note in it. Except for maybe the Vega system," I amended my statement. Until recently, why that was had been a mystery, but Atrocitus had made sure that the Guardians were placed on the hook for every mistake and sin. Several millennia ago, a band of space pirates had rampaged through the sector, recruiting the strong and killing everyone else. Earth had once been in a flourishing sector, but after that, it was regarded as the boonies because nearly every civilization had been wiped out.

Lois took out a notepad and a recorder, "Then what would bring royalty to Earth?" She questioned, sitting straight, her shoulders squared and a slight smile tugging at the edge of her lips.

"I've recently become king. I am learning about civilians and their needs," I answered, taking a slight sip of my chocolate latte. It tasted sweet. A unique flavor. I recalled chocolate, but I couldn't remember what it tasted like. It was delicious. "As well as studying your laws and systems of government to see if any would be worth transferring over to my empire."

There was a small tilt of Lois's head, "May I ask how large your empire is?" She questioned, her tone pleasant and casual. However, it was easy to see that she had some worries.

"My empire currently occupies about seven percent of the galaxy," I answered. "Roughly fourteen million planets in total, though only perhaps a fifth of them are habitable like Earth is," I continued, making Lois take a telling pause. Combining my brother's and my own empire gave us a sizable portion of the galaxy. The Reach still controlled roughly four percent, while the Federation controlled closer to thirty percent. The Trade Organization, with my loss, controlled about twenty at the end of the war.

The remaining forty percent was currently unclaimed or purposely left untouched to leave a buffer.

Lois, to her credit, recovered well, "Fourteen million planets… that sounds like quite the responsibility. Especially for one that seems to be so young," she added, "Or at least appears to be?"

"In galactic standard years, I am sixteen. But with the use of slip-space, because of time dilation, I'm biologically twenty years old," I answered. Lois nodded, making a note of that. "Early on in my race's development, we are similar to that of humans, though growth is done in spurts. However, we can live to be over a thousand years old," I explained further, making Lois pause, then resume writing notes.

"Growth spurts?" She questioned, and I answered. "So, you looked like a two-year-old until you were about twelve?" Lois asked, sounding like she was trying very hard not to be amused by the mental image. "I see…"

"You said you've come to Earth to learn -- have you learned anything of value? Is there any part of humanity that you wish to take with you and bring to your Empire?" Lois asked, and I recognized the tactic. I did have some experience with reporters -- though, the majority of them had been war journalists. She was looping down to a more serious topic after trying to warm me up with some easy questions. Questions I didn't have to think about, then she asked for an answer that was purely my opinion.

I offered a nod, "Of course. Your food, I'm finding, is some of the best I've ever tasted. Also, groups like the Justice League and Teen Titans are interesting -- across my empire, there are many aliens with even more unique abilities. Having dedicated tasks forces to combat crime is an idea worth exploring," I told her. She smiled lightly as she wrote a note. "However, your laws are a complete mess, your sense of justice is based on opinions, and in general, you've provided a number of mistakes that I wish to avoid."

Her pen stopped, "Oh?" She uttered, her eyes flicking back to me. "For the record, I must clarify that this interview will be published."

"I am aware. Your species has had the capacity to create sentient AI for over sixty years, yet there has been no attempt to grant them any legal rights of any kind. Spaceflight was achieved around the same time, yet your race is still bound to a single planet. Your housing laws seemed to be designed with criminal intent in mind," I added, because that still bothered me. "In short, I do find several humans to be remarkable, but your species as a whole seems determined to not only waste their own personal potential, but your potential as a species."

Her eyes narrowed, her mouth parting, but before she could speak, my eyes went to the door where I felt Superman's presence race towards me. He stepped through the door, wearing a suit and… glasses? Well, I suppose I did say that if he was going to follow me that he should remain inconspicuous. Though, I did think he was going to do better than style his hair a bit differently and put on glasses.

He quickly approached, throwing on an earnest smile, "Lois! Sorry I'm late, there was-" he began, only to quiet down when Lois shot him a sharp look that said she couldn't care less about his excuses.

"Right -- this is my partner, Clark Kent," Lois introduced Superman, who offered a hand and a smile.

I looked at his hand, then clasped it. Then I squeezed.

Clark's eyes widened ever so slightly like he was so shocked that I had realized that he and Superman were, in fact, the same person. I didn't even need to sense his ki to figure it out. I wasn't blind nor an idiot.

"Nice to meet you," Clark said, his voice tight. He was acting like he hadn't met me before? Very well. It seemed like a silly game to play, but I would play along. If only to see why he was playing in the first place.

"Likewise," I answered as Clark sat down. Lois looked to me for a moment, her eyes searching my face.

"That's a rather scathing review of humanity," she noted, sounding distinctly unhappy that I wasn't singing the praises of her species.

"If you have evidence or context that will prove me wrong, then I will amend my statement," I told her, my tone blunt. I finished off a coffee and began another. "And, admittedly, I have not been on Earth long. Perhaps I have only seen the poor side of your species," I offered, earning a frown.

However, it was Clark that answered. "Humanity is messy," he said, and I found it deeply amusing that the alien was speaking on behalf of humanity. "Human history is filled with contradictions, uninformed opinions, and tragedies, but humanity is more than just a species. It's the people that redeem humanity."

I raised an eyebrow. "Let me be clear -- my species has no right to condemn others for their stupidity and short-sighted decisions. The Saiyan race has destroyed two of our home planets in the past millennia," I told him bluntly. "But individuals cannot redeem a species. In the end, they are individuals. Their actions reflect on no one but themselves."

Clark met my gaze evenly, "Do you truly believe that?"

Ah, so we were talking about me, were we?

"Redemption is a gift that others give you, not something that you achieve on your own merits. You have to prove to others that you have been changed, that you repent past actions, and once your sincerity has been proven, your redemption is your reward," I told him. I had no interest in redemption, not repenting for past actions. "And just as a species should not be condemned for the actions of a few, nor should a species be redeemed because of the actions of a few."

My eyes narrowed, "My species is warlike. Conflict is in our nature. We don't need a reason to fight. We aren't humans that have to trick ourselves into thinking our enemy is less than what they are, or attach petty goals to justify slaughter so we can sleep at night." I could see the point he was trying to make, but I didn't agree with it.

"But if that's all you were, you wouldn't be here trying to learn," Clark countered. "By your own actions, you've proven that Saiyans can be more than a warlike species. Or are you telling me that you have no intention to keep the peace you fought so hard for?"

That was an annoying point. "And in making my race more peaceful, I not only redeem my species but myself as well? Please," I dismissed the idea out of hand.

"Redemption is a funny thing. As you said, it's something that's given to you. Meaning you can receive it even if you think you don't deserve it," Clark said, giving me a pointed look.

I almost laughed. That was… wow. He honestly thought that I could redeem myself. How naive. "Just because it could be given doesn't mean I have any intention of accepting. I've done what I've done. There is no going back and undoing it. All there is is the future."

"And what exactly is it that you've done?" Lois questioned, sliding the recorder towards me. She shot a look at Clark, clearly wondering what that byplay was about.

"Terrible things. Things that he knows are wrong," Clark answered for me as if he were trying to convince me of that fact.

"Those terrible things that I would do again if I were given the chance to go back to the start. The only thing I would change is avoiding some mistakes I made along the way," I returned, my voice just as cold. The topic wasn't one I had any interest in discussing. That clearly wasn't the answer that Clark had wanted to hear.

And I had no interest in giving him the answer that he wanted to hear, because I didn't know if it would be a lie or not. I had regrets. Plenty of them. There were so many cases where I wish I had been fast enough, strong enough… I regretted not being powerful enough to end the war on my own. I regretted that I couldn't end the war faster. I regretted that I couldn't have killed Frieza sooner.

I regretted that there was a war at all.

But I couldn't accept the idea that there was redemption waiting for me at the end of this road. Nor did I want there to be. Because, in the end…

If war were to break out right now, I would be every bit as ruthless as I had been during the War of Light. Redemption wasn't deserved if you don't repent your actions. And I didn't. Even if I were given the chance to go back to the starting line… the only thing I would do differently would be to use my knowledge of war to better wage it. The only things I would undo would be…

"So give your redemption to someone else. I have no use for it," I told Clark- no, Superman. His eyes narrowed, his expression betraying his disappointment. That, in a way, I felt bad about. Superman was trying to find a compromise with me. He was trying to find a way that this didn't end in violence.

However, what he was trying to get me to compromise on… well, it would be about as likely that I could get him to compromise on the same point.

Lois looked between us before she seemed far more cautious of me. Her phone beeped. Then Clark's phone beeped. Lois glanced at it for a moment, and she went very still. She set her phone down on the table, her eyes going to Clark for a moment before they settled on me with a heavy gaze.

"So… is Earth the fourteen millionth planet?" She questioned, adapting rather well considering how blindsided the information had caught her.

I shook my head, "Earth was the first planet I ever owned. It was a reward for surviving a suicide mission that my father sent me on when I was a few months old." Lois pursed her lips and wrote a note.

"Suicide mission… newborn baby…" she pointedly muttered under her breath. "So, you've been the 'owner of Earth' for about sixteen years?" She questioned, not missing a beat. My respect for her increased -- she had a task at hand, and she wasn't going to let personal feelings get in the way of her interview. "Because, I have to say, you have been rather negligent."

That was an amusing tactic. "Hm. I suppose you humans would have welcomed a newborn ruler," I pointed out, "Though, you do bring up a fair point. I have been negligent -- there were circumstances, but that is not an excuse for completely neglecting my citizens. Which is why I am here. That is changing. I intend to rule over my empire fairly, and treat my citizens with the respect that they are owed."

Lois nodded while Clark frowned, but she spoke before he could . "Of which, the Human race is now a client race under your galactic empire?" She questioned, pinning me with a sharp look.

"You are my citizens. Something that you have been ignorant of until now. I am understanding of that fact, which is why I am allowing your world leaders and the Justice League a chance to appeal." I said, for what felt like the tenth time today.

"How generous of you," Lois remarked drily, a not-so-hidden edge in her tone.

"You're welcome," I returned, ignoring the sarcasm, my tone equally dry.

Lois leaned back slightly, ignoring a look that Clark gave her, apparently recognizing that as a sign of trouble. "You've said that you are allowing Earth a chance to appeal and Humanity to escape 'citizenship', but so far you've only spoken to members of the Justice League. Do you recognize them as the sovereign power of the planet rather than the governments of Earth?" She asked, and Clark's lips thinned at the question.

I met her gaze, "In the end, it is the Justice League's decision," I decided ultimately. "I will debate the matter with government officials, but let us not pretend that if the conversation doesn't go how you wish that the Justice League would do anything less than rising up to fight me. Given the wide range of powers of the heroes I've seen in my brief time here, there's even a chance that you will win."

Lois leaned forward, nearly knocking her coffee over, "But?" She offered, prompting me to continue.

"But nothing," I dismissed. "It is the Justice League that I am most concerned with. Even should the governments of Earth accept the fact that this planet is owned by me, I have… doubts that the Justice League would accept such a decision," I said, looking at Clark, who met my gaze unflinchingly. And unapologetically. "So, I will focus my efforts on convincing them that joining my empire is ultimately better for humanity."

"Even though the Justice League has submitted to the UN?" She questioned pointedly, really digging into that topic.

"Yes," I answered simply.

She wrote down my answer, then she settled in her seat, "The most pressing question I have left is -- what happens if humanity rejects the idea that Earth is yours and that we are your citizens, regardless of what legal evidence is presented?"

"It sounds like you already have an answer you wish me to say," I remarked lightly, making her eyes narrow ever so slightly. "If humanity rejects legal evidence, then that would be theft. As such, I will take what is legally mine. My fleets will enter the system, those that rebel will be crushed into submission, those that survive will be exiled to Federation space while those that accept my legal ownership of Earth will be welcomed into my empire." Lois glared at me, and I glared right back. "Would you prefer it if I simply destroyed the planet with a flick of my wrist? I am trying to be reasonable with you humans, but you seemed quite determined to be stupid and ungrateful."

Clark shook his head, "The Justice League would never let that happen."

I scoffed, "Easy to say. I once vowed to protect my soldiers from our enemies to the best of my ability. It didn't stop thirty billion of them from being murdered by our leader when he wanted to throw planets around in a useless display of power." Clark continued to meet my gaze, not backing down, but his gaze did soften ever so slightly. I only realized why when I felt coffee spill over my fingers and onto the table, the cup crushed in my hand. "But, it won't come to that. I have little taste for pointless slaughter, and destroying the Earth and humanity would be pointless."

Shaking my head, I stood up. "Thank you for the coffee," I said as a goodbye before I walked out of the coffee shop, another three beverages left to go. I took in a slow breath, flicking off the excess coffee that soaked my hand before I blasted up to the stratosphere.

I looked down at Earth and shook my head, "What a stupid thing to do," I told humanity from above. The owner of that building that Superman and I had spoken on had leaked the conversation. Or, at the very least, someone who had worked for him.

Now, across the world, every government would be pushing through laws that would be used against me to prove that I had no legal right to Earth.

And, in doing so…

Conflict was inevitable.