Gone Native: Mistakes of the Past (ch. 51) (Patreon)

That was a little jarring to hear. Everything was the opposite of what I thought it was. Given that the current Saiyan race was what we were, I figured that the Guardians had defeated us rather soundly. From what I got from Froot and the Guardians, that had been the case, but I just didn’t have the full story. I thought that Sadala had been captured by the Guardians and they were experimenting on her, trying to create a Saiyan race that fit their ideals.

Instead, Sadala was out there, somewhere, and she had the Guardians scared. She had them scared when they were at the height of their power, and I imagine she scared them a great deal more now that they had been reduced so thoroughly. Still, I had questions.

“Why?” I asked, frowning deeply as I looked down into my tea. “Why does she want a compassionate Saiyan race?” Enough so that she gave the Guardians her tail to harvest cells from. The very idea of it made my skin crawl. I’d rather part with an arm than my tail. What could she gain from trying to turn the Saiyan race into something so radically different than what we are by nature? To the point that we were so limited that we hardly recognized our predecessors?

“We don’t know,” Ganthet answered, sounding exactly as happy as I was to hear that. “It was simply one of the stipulations she gave in exchange for her aid in distracting her people enough that we could defeat them. It was a stipulation that we were eager to agree to at the time --  a race with all the power of the Saiyans, that safeguarded lesser species and helped nurture them? It was exactly what we desired.”

“But it didn’t work out,” Hal remarked, crossing his arms as he looked down at the table, looking at me in particular.

Ganthet nodded, “No, it did not. As you said -- for billions of years and thousands of attempts, we could never manage to curb your… destructive tendencies. We curtailed your natural abilities -- I believe you call them the Super Saiyan transformations, and the Saiyan God form, limiting them until certain milestones were reached in an individual's emotional development.”

I nodded slowly, “The Super Saiyan transformation was locked behind loss.” I voiced, a sharp edge in my voice.

“Indeed. The philosophy was simple, really. To feel loss, one must be capable of empathy. Once that loss is felt, the Saiyan in question would be less likely to freely destroy others. However, your power is fundamentally linked to your desires to destroy and kill.” Ganthet explained, a frown in his voice. “The two cannot be separated, as unfortunate as it is. So, we set biological markers in the brain that would forcefully remind the Saiyan of what that loss felt like every time they became a Super Saiyan.” Hal made a small noise at that while I grimaced.

“And the Saiyan God form?” I asked, making Ganthet seem a little confused.

“I would expect that to be obvious if you’ve obtained it,” he remarked, but I shook my head.

“I ate some of Ares, the Earth God of War, to obtain god ki. If there is a natural way to unlock it for our race, then I haven’t discovered it,” I told the Guardians and, while it could just be my imagination, I thought that the three of them looked incredibly annoyed for a moment. Hal dragged a hand down his face, telling me that he hadn’t been clued in on that yet. It was part of the reason why I was here -- I was going to have to deal with the Hellenistic gods at some point.

Learning how to tap into my god ki naturally would be a great help. Otherwise, I’d have to eat other gods and that would be an issue in itself.

“I… see,” Ganthet remarked, taking a long sip of his tea to hide his annoyance. Just not very well. “In that case, the intended key for the god transformation is cooperation. Five pure-hearted Saiyans willingly sharing their power with another will allow the recipient to access 'god ki', as you call it. It’s a temporary measure, however. At least until the individual goes through the ritual enough times that their god ki will awaken naturally -- both receiving the power and bequeathing it to another.”

I could see it now. Willingly giving up power was something that was fundamentally against our culture. If someone was stronger than you, you challenged them yourself, got beat down, then tried again if you managed to survive. Willingly giving up a fight, along with power… I could very easily see why Yamoshi was the only Saiyan god. I’m actually surprised that he managed to find five Saiyans that were willing to give up their power.

I could also see the stages. Our god forms were locked behind advanced steps, so to speak. It would only work when there were a number of pure-hearted Saiyans that were capable of empathy and were willing to share their strength.

“All of this was meant to influence your culture. Saiyans, as I’m sure you’re well aware, follow strength. By making the kindest, most empathetic, of your species the strongest, the rest should follow. In theory,” Ganthet added, sounding like he understood that wasn’t the case. Now that he mentioned it…

“Is that what Broly is?” I asked him, thinking about my friend. Broly was insanely powerful, and he got stronger at a ludicrously fast pace.

Ganthet shook his head, “Broly is a genetic abnormality, but an interesting one. S-Cells are produced when a Saiyan secretes hormones that are associated with kind deeds and empathy. While I would need to take a look at him to be certain, Broly is a case of his brain producing a surplus of these hormones, and that in turn causes an overproduction of S-Cells. A fascinating abnormality to be certain, but not an intended one.”

I sat back, taking a brief moment to process all of that. It was interesting to hear how my species had been given a clear path to walk down. The steps outlined for our intended development. The development of empathy, cooperation, self-sacrifice, and so on. Especially when I compared them to the reality of the situation -- my species was filled with self-serving, combative, and individualistic Saiyans that would rather die than cooperate, sacrifice, or empathize with another being.

My thoughts drifted back to what Yamoshi said. That I was taking the same path that he had and it ended in failure. Now I sat across from the few remaining Guardians of the Universe, and he was telling me that he had failed not once, but thousands of times over the course of billions of years. It would be a lie to say that wasn’t disheartening. Was my species really so determined to destroy not only everything around us, but ourselves as well?

I came here for answers and I couldn’t say I liked the ones I was getting. How was I supposed to turn the Saiyan race into a functioning species when people far greater than I had tried for much longer, and found no success. And I imagine those renditions of the Saiyan race hadn’t grown up fighting a genocidal war. Disheartening was the only way to describe it.

“I’ll need the data on the previous failed attempts to… reform my species,” I decided, finally taking a sip of my tea. It was bitter. Ganthet nodded, having expected as much. If I knew every way that it had failed then I could eliminate options. I would speak to Yamoshi about his own attempt in greater detail. Hearing it from him would have more value since he seemed to be the guiding hand behind the only other 'success.' "However, I didn't come here just to learn about the Ancient Saiyans. A Lord of Chaos has begun a race to gather the Dragonballs."

Of which, I knew where one was and I had seen two -- the odd moons that had hovered around Larfleeze's home asteroid. The Dragonballs that Froot had managed to gather before he failed his challenge to earn the right to eat the Avarice Entity. Given that the Trade Organization had retreated from the Vega System, it stood to reason that they were in the New Lantern's possession. I could only hope that Hal had hidden them better than he hid the Guardians.

Ganthet looked mildly concerned for a moment, his gaze going to Hal, who offered nothing. "If you are asking for the Dragonballs in Hal's possession, them I'm afraid that is beyond my capacity to offer." He stated, as if a prisoner was all that he was. I expected as much. So long as I had one, in theory, they were useless. However, that was according to my human memories, and in those memories, the Dragonballs could fit in someone's palm. I needed to be sure that was the case.

"What is their capacity? Who made them? Do you know where the rest are located?" I asked, making Ganthet smile ever so slightly at my prudent questions.

"The Namekians created the Dragonballs. While the Ancient Saiyans ascended through pure might, and my race through scientific development, the Namekians were the third species to gain sapience and they did so through magic. They lived a simple existence, to my knowledge. Precious few of their people could utilize magic, and they did so by creating magical items. The Dragonballs were some of them -- individually, they are worthless. However, if you gather them up and recite a poem, then in theory any wish can be granted regardless of how unfeasible it might be."

That lined up, at least. "You talk about them like they're gone," I remarked. That, and like the Dragonballs had never been tested.

"Because they are. The Dragonballs are the only legacy of the Namekians in this age. We only discovered them through the use of the Dragonballs, and when we arrived at their home planet to investigate the source of the magical anomaly, we found only traces of their existence. As far as we know, the Namekians created the Dragonballs and used them. They were then scattered across the universe and rendered inert. However, to this day we don't know what they wished for. Only that after the wish happened, the Namekians vanished from existence."

My eyes narrowed, "Then how do you know what they're capable of?" I asked and Ganthet had an answer ready.

"Because they left a note. Their final farewell. It simply stated that they created the Dragonballs and once all seven were gathered, whoever gathered them could ask the almighty Shenron for a wish. We ran our own tests and quickly gathered that the magical energies that the Dragonballs stored were capable of wide scale reality manipulation. With a guiding hand, in theory, even the primordial forces of the universe would be helpless against the wish." Ganthet explained.

That was… odd. The Namekians creating the Dragonballs, that I already knew, but the fact that they left the universe was… odd. What prompted them to do it? Did they do so out of fear? Or were the Dragonballs a tool crafted for a singular purpose and after they used it, they left the Dragonballs behind? I had no idea. Worse, I'm not sure I would ever be able to learn given the trail was billions of years old.

"Beyond that one time, they've never been used?" I questioned and Ganthet shook his head.

"They've never all been gathered up since then. Froot came the closest by gathering two. As for the remaining five, we never found them. We had ideas where some were, but we never managed to collect them. I suspect that several of them are no longer in this plane of existence," Ganthet answered.

Like the Dragonball on Azarath.

"This poem. Is it necessary to use them?" I asked, processing the information. It was less than I wanted. I had hoped that the Guardians kept a close eye on them and could point me in the right direction. Perhaps they did, and Ganthet was simply lying to me. If he was, I couldn't tell.

Ganthet nodded, "It is and it must be spoken in the Namekian language."

"Which, I imagine, only you know at this point," I remarked, earning a ghost of a smile.

"Likely so, but I would not diminish the determination of those that seek the Dragonballs. If they can overcome the tribulations of finding them across the universe, then they can find a way to learn the poem and the language," Ganthet pointed out. That was true. I wasn’t exactly sure how I would go about discovering the ancient poem and language, but with my resources, I would be able to find a way eventually.

“Where was the home planet of the Namekians?” I asked, putting a plan of action together. I was getting less from the Guardians than I hoped I would. The impression that I got from them during the Vega System was that they were more on my side than not. Possibly being imprisoned had changed that, or perhaps I had simply been mistaken. Regardless, I was getting pieces I needed to start the hunt for the Dragonballs.

Ganthet nodded his head at me, as if I had asked the right question. “It's within this galaxy, but the exact location escapes me.” He said, and I didn’t believe that for a moment.

My eyes narrowed ever so slightly. The Namekians were native to this galaxy? As were the Guardians? What were the odds that two of the three first species to gain sapience were native to a single galaxy when there were trillions of galaxies in the universe? Perhaps the Guardians were simply mistaken. There was plenty of proof that they weren’t correct all the time, but it seemed to be an odd assertion to make -- first came the Guardians, then came the Saiyans, and then came the Namekians.

I inclined my head to him, wondering how I was going to find the planet, but said nothing. It was within my means to discover. Not all planets were created at the same time. With enough time and processing power, I could develop an estimation on the earliest planets in the galaxy that could have supported life and work off of it. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was a solution.

“At the moment,” I decided, “My first concern is preventing the Dragonballs from being used by whoever else the Lord of Chaos would have told. I currently have one in my possession,” I admitted and that seemed to surprise Hal. I slid my gaze to him, “And you have two. If they really are useless unless gathered, that will be enough.”

“And in the future? When you want to make a wish?” Hal questioned, making my lips thin at the very pointed question. What would happen then?

“We can deal with that in the future,” I answered, knowing I was putting it off. “Right now, we need to be more concerned with preventing the Dragonballs that we have from being stolen.”

Hal inclined his head to me, “Or,” he remarked idly, “we could destroy one of them. That would solve the problem, wouldn’t it?” He pointed out and I felt my heart still in my chest. I was surprised by my own instant rejection of the idea, even if it was the prudent move. He had a point. Destroying even one of the Dragonballs would render the rest useless and sidestep the entire danger of someone using the wish for ill.

Did I really want the wish that badly? Enough so that I was willing to risk everything for it?

Ganthet spoke up, saving me from having to respond. “I’m afraid that's impossible. We tried once before to destroy the Dragonballs. The results were… disastrous,” Ganthet stated, a grimace in his tone. So they couldn’t be destroyed. That was… good.

I looked into my tea before I took a long gulp of it, sorting my thoughts. The conversation hadn’t quite gone how I thought it would. Learning Sadala was still in play was an issue in itself, and I had the start on a lead on how to find the rest of the Dragonballs. “I think I’ve heard enough,” I decided, setting the tea down. “I do need the data you have on my race. Thank you for the tea,” I added, standing up.

I didn’t get the straight answer that I wanted, but things were never going to be that easy. Ganthet nodded at me, seemingly expecting my reaction. “I cannot say when visiting hours are, but you are welcome to come back here at any time, King Tarble,” he said, making an annoyed expression cross over Hal’s face.

Offering a curt nod in response, I turned away with Hal in tow and felt the gazes of the Guardians on my back. They had expectations for me. I could feel it. Yamoshi had come close to what they wanted, but it had collapsed because one Saiyan lost their mind. Which made me curious about the previous generation of Saiyans on Planet Sadala.

The planet had been destroyed by a Super Saiyan combining the transformation with the Oozaru transformation-

“The last Super Saiyan,” I spoke up, coming to a stop at the door as something struck me. Something that I never considered as a hand went up to the bone at my necklace that belonged to the last Super Saiyan on Planet Sadala. Their skeleton was found in the bottom of a crater. I thought nothing of it at the time… “Who killed him?”

Ganthet didn’t respond. None of the Guardians did, so I followed the question up with another. Something that had been itching at the back of my mind ever since the start. A question that was born from a possibility that I hadn’t quite been able to put into words. I had Sadala’s tail and the ship used to monitor the Saiyan race. I knew that there were thousands of renditions of my species, each one having destroyed themselves. However…

I knew better than most the motivation for stacking modifiers -- every time I did it, it was because I was facing a foe that I couldn’t beat without being stronger. So, who had the last Super Saiyan been fighting? Who had pushed them into trying to stack the Super Saiyan and Oozaru transformations? Sadala? In theory, it fit but at the same time, Ganthet said that she was sleeping. Yamoshi? A possibility, but it also didn’t fit. Yamoshi was a god. Even if he was fighting a powerful Saiyan, I had no doubts in my mind that Yamoshi couldn’t effortlessly win, so Sadala wouldn’t have been destroyed.

“I believe,” Ganthet finally spoke up, “that is a question you will soon discover the answer to yourself.” He said, and I really did hate it when answers left me with more questions than when I started. He knew who the last Super Saiyan had fought, but he wasn’t saying. And I certainly didn’t care for how he seemed to be warning me. As if telling me I should be preparing myself.

I didn’t respond and simply made my way through the series of bulkhead doors with Hal beside me. The silence was heavy and Hal seemed to be thinking about what he heard as much as I was. My mind was churning over all of it, thinking on what my next move should be. If normal methods of guiding my race into a fate other than oblivion wouldn’t work, should I go with more extreme methods?

I thought on my own experiences with the Indigo Light that forced me to be more compassionate. Would that work? Water it down so the Saiyans exposed would learn what compassion and empathy felt like? Or should I tamper with my people’s genes? I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure that there really was a right answer, and that was by far the worst part. The Dragonballs were also a concern. I needed to start developing something like the Dragonball Radar, but it would need to be infinitely more powerful to find the Dragonballs scattered across the universe.

When we finally reached the top of the elevator, allowing us back into the room, I hardly noticed Kara brushing past me for her own interrogation of the Guardians. I could feel everyone's gazes on me, all curious on what I had heard, but none approached me. Even if I could feel Raven really wanting to. She wanted to know what I had learned about the Dragonballs. She wanted them desperately, but she was trying to keep that want in check. I think the reason why she didn’t approach was that she knew that she wouldn’t be able to.

“King Tarble,” I heard, and out of everyone, I didn’t think it would be Saint Walker that would approach me first. I glanced over at him, a frown tugging at my lips as I considered everything I had learned, and the frown deepened when I saw that there was a blue ring pinched between his fingers. A Blue Lantern Power Ring. One that was being offered. “I believe this belongs to you,” Saint Walker decided, his tone kind as he presented a blue ring of hope.

“What?” I asked, caught flat footed by the offer, narrowing my eyes at the ring, then at Saint Walker.

“This ring was activated by you some months ago, but, ah, Hal was… rather against the idea,” Saint Walker began, giving a rueful smile. “Your proclamation and the formation of your empire. It inspired a lot of hope in a great many people. A hope for a better future,” he continued, his smile becoming more kind in nature as he looked at me. He really didn’t hold any hard feelings about me nearly killing him, did he?

I hesitantly reached out, accepting the blue ring, looking at it with faint curiosity. “Hope isn't something that fuels me,” I remarked, knowing that even if I put the ring on, I wouldn’t be able to use it.

“Then let it be a reminder,” Saint Walker decided. “While you may not need hope, you inspire it in others. If you ever feel like you’ve lost your way, then think on why you inspired that hope and let that be your guiding light-” Saint Walker started, and right when I began to properly think on it, going to thank him for the ring and his words, I felt a rumbling underneath my feet.

A split second later, Ganthet slammed into the ceiling, having ripped through a planets worth of debris, and Kara was right behind him, a snarl on her face with her lips peeled back as she cocked back another punch.

The reaction was immediate by everyone else, but I watched on in dull amusement.

At the very least, I thought, I wasn’t the only one that got into a fight on this trip.