Chapter 3 - My SI Stash #3 - Going Native by IdeasGuy (DBZ & Justice League) (1/2)

-A great SI DBZ & Justice League fanfic, it will really leave you craving for more chapters

Sypnosis: It's really hard to maintain a clean conscious when you're surrounded and encouraged by genocidal aliens that wanted to only eat and fight. Especially when your entire race has been enslaved by Frieza, an especially genocidal alien that commits war crimes to pass time. No one could say I didn't give it my best shot, though.

Rated: M

Words: 100K

Posted on: fanfiction.net/s/13398050/1/Going-Native

-I'll be putting the chapter ones of all the fanfics mentioned, to give you guys a sample if you wan't more please do go to the website and support the author! (And maybe even convince them to start uploading chapters in here as well!)

Chapter 1:

I have become a test tube baby. Quite an accomplishment for a teenager and all it took was getting my brains splattered on the front bumper of Truck-kun, the isenski protagonist hunter, so I could be transferred into a fictional universe. Not really sure if everyone that was killed in a hit and run got the same treatment, but it was certainly the case for me.

My eyes flickered open, having long since gotten used to the goop that left me suspended in a large tank. A mask covered my face, feeding me oxygen while another mask covered my lower body to serve less pleasant purposes, though it had a hole for my tail to slip through. Neither left me with a lot of room to maneuver, too far one way and the hose that connected both of them to a

filtration system would go taut.

A light orange haze filled my vision, but I could still see through the goop. The room around me remained unchanged since the...weeks…months...maybe even years since I found myself here. My tank was on the highest platform of three, with me being the only tank while the second had about twelve and the bottom had fifty.

The goop changed again. It started off as a dark blue, then it went through several shades of green, then yellow and now it was dipping into the oranges. What it meant, I didn't have the faintest — if I had to guess it was some kind of a development cycle.

A sigh escaped me as I drifted off, finding that sweet spot between consciousness and sleep that helped pass the time. My mind cleared, long since clear of turbulent thoughts about my death and resurrection. That had taken some time, but it was what it was. I couldn't do anything about it anymore, so there wasn't a point of dwelling on it.

Time passed. Minutes, hours, or days - I had no way of knowing. My meditation was only broken up by brief resurgences of conscious thought, each time noting that I was still alone in a tank. Each time, I drifted back into myself, thinking of nothing or latching onto a random thought and thinking it to death.

I'm an alien. I didn't feel like an alien, except for the tail. I looked too human. My body was that of a toddler, somewhere around two years old or so - stubby arms and legs, too small hands and feet attached to them...everything was too small. My hair was weirdly static, but from what I could see of a single long lock that brushed against my forehead, it was a normal black color.

The few people that I saw since finding myself in this new body also looked human except for the tails and gravity-defying hair.

I'm a self-insert. Self-insert stories were always a guilty p_l_e_a_s_u_r_e of mine simply because, at their core, they were little more than self-indulgent power fantasies. Some of them hid that fact better than others, but it was a fact. After all, what was the point of writing a self-insert in a favored setting only to be a dishwasher?

I never expected to become one though, and now that I was, I couldn't help but wonder just how exactly it worked. I could accept some infinitely powerful being did it for any number of reasons, from boredom to malevolence. That wasn't what I questioned — just how did I find myself into a new body? When it came right down to it a person, who they were and their memories, were little more than jolts of electricity firing off between synapses in the brain.

Did my brain get teleported into this new body? Did it grow into an exact replica? Or were my memories and personality just downloaded into it? Or, maybe, there was another factor to it? My soul, or something, made the trip? Because that raised a lot of questions that religious figures had been debating for thousands of years, most of them much smarter than me, and they still haven't found an answer.

Then there was the whole can of worms of was this me really me. Was I-

My thoughts were interrupted by a harsh rap against the thick glass of my tank. My eyes snapped open, ignoring a pang of irritation in favor of pinning a glare at the source. To my surprise, though I guess it really shouldn't be, it was a little boy pounding at the glass with a scowl so entrenched on his face it was like it was stuck like that.

”I demand that you awake this instant!” The child snapped, pounding on the glass for emphasis. I just stared at him for a moment, struck by how familiar he looked. His hair was spiked upwards in long, thick, locks that tapered off into a point, revealing a deep widow's peak. His almond-shaped eyes were just as black as his hair, so much so that I couldn't tell the difference between his pupil and the iris. Strong jaw leading to a stubborn chin, thin lips pressed into a thin line and a small nose.

Vegeta? He was maybe six or seven, but no older than that. He wore white and gold Frieza-Force armor, a skin-tight blue undersuit, only it had a red symbol on the left pectoral area and a thick red cape dr_a_p_ed off the shoulder pads.

”Hmph. Finally,” Vegeta muttered, squinting up at me. His gaze was judging and, after a few moments of him staring at me, it was clear that I was found lacking. ”I don't know why my father is bothering with you. He already has an heir.” He might be young, but he had already mastered sneering. He looked at me like I was something that he scr_a_p_ed off his boot.

Naturally, I flipped him off. I couldn't exactly speak with the mask over my face. Unfortunately, the middle finger didn't seem to mean anything to saiyans because he just sneered so hard I was almost worried he'd pull something.

”You can't even make a fist,” Vegeta observed, crossing his arms over his c_h_e_s_t and- woah. Young he might be but he was properly swol. Muscle clung to his arms, straining against the undersuit so badly I could see every line. Yeah, he could definitely take me in a fight. In my previous body too. ”You're pathetic.”

What a jerk. I knew kids were mean, but this was a little much. My eyes narrowed into slits, glaring at the punk, and, oddly enough, that got a crooked smirk from him.

”That angers you, does it? I suppose you may be a saiyan after all,” Vegeta said so smugly it was a wonder how he managed to fit is massive ego in the room. And what's with this kid taunting me? He had absolutely no idea that I wasn't just some toddler in a test tube - that meant he thought he was just taunting a baby for...what? What was his goal here?

”If only barely,” Vegeta continued as if realizing that his words sounded too much like a compliment. ”A power level of 15...what a bad joke. I was 350 at this point.”

Ah. The eldest child feeling jealous of the attention the youngest was getting. Which was worrying because I haven't even seen my father or mother as far as I was aware. Apparently, they were taking absentee parenting to a whole new level. No, wait, saiyans didn't do families. Not the same way that humans did.

Parents and siblings were acknowledged to track lineage, not out of familial bonds. Two saiyans banged, if the woman decided that the male was strong enough to produce worthy offspring, then she would take the fertilized egg and dump it into an incubation tank like I was in. More often than not, the male wouldn't even realize that he had a child until they ran into a kid that looked just like them.

Saiyan parents didn't care. They weren't expected to.

Children were carried in an artificial w_o_m_b, so there was none of that paternal instinct from the mother's side. For humans, a baby literally grew inside them, making all kinds of hormones fire off in their brains to convince them that they loved the baby and it was totally worth all the suffering and pain to bring the baby into the world. Saiyan mothers just didn't have that connection. They just put the kid in a tank before dropping them off for the caretakers to deal with for the next three years.

After those three years were up, provided that the baby wasn't deemed too weak and sent off to a distant planet to wipe all life out, thus proving they were worthy to be called a saiyan...the baby would be given a patron that would put them through brutal training so horrible that Spartans would jump out of their seats in shock until they reached an appropriate power level or they reached the age of ten. Or, you know, they died. Or, of course-

Wait. Wait, wait, wait. How in the hell did I know all of that? Or how did I know his name even though he never gave it? Or why wasn't I surprised that he was my older brother?

”Why are you scrunching your face up like that? Are you going to cry?! Stop this instant! You are a saiyan prince, and princes don't cry!” Vegeta snapped, banging the tank for emphasis as he barked his orders. His face didn't match his words or actions, his eyes were wide and filled with panic. It was like a bomb was going to go off instead of a toddler crying...though, I guess that's not too far off the mark.

I thought about crying just to spite him, only to discard the idea a moment later. I loved drama class in high school, but I knew I was bad at it. My resting-bitch-face syndrome made faking expressions hard, and my deep voice didn't help with conveying emotion. Certainly didn't help that I was a spastic bundle of anxiety and frayed nerves at the time, either. So, faking crying was well beyond my abilities at the best of times.

Pointedly ignoring him, I wondered to myself at the sudden burst of new-found knowledge. I-

”Don't you dare ignore me! I am Vegeta, Prince of all saiyans and I will not be ignored!” Vegeta proclaimed, slamming his fist on the tank again. I swear, the first thing I do when I get out of here was free every fish in every aquarium in the galaxy. And, considering he earned my undivided attention in the form of a glare, he wasn't exactly wrong.

”Vegeta!” A harsh voice barked, making Vegeta go rigid before he snapped to attention. With wellpracticed ease, he turned on his heel and bowed so low he practically was bending over. Even his tail went low, a complete submission.

I looked at the new guy as he confidently strode into the room like he owned the place, which, well, he kinda did. He was a dead ringer for Vegeta, only much older with a thick black goatee around his mouth. He stood at five something, the shortest of the three people that followed him, but he was unmistakably their leader. Our leader.

My father.

”You missed your training to gawk at your brother.” King Vegeta observed, his voice cold enough to refreeze the arctic poles. Vegeta went rigid as if our father wouldn't notice him if he was perfectly still. And he was perfectly still, enough so that I spared a worry that his heart gave out on him out of fright.

”I'm sorry, my king.” Vegeta rushed out, not looking up. ”I…”

”Speak,” King Vegeta ordered, coming to a stop a few feet from the two of us. He crossed his arms over his c_h_e_s_t, showing off chiseled muscle. While not as big as the bodybuilder behind him that looked at Vegeta with far too much amus_e_m_e_nt, he still looked like he could break me over his knee.

”I-I wanted to know why you decided to have another son,” Vegeta forced out in a rush, daring to glance up, only for his gaze to return to the floor when he met eyes with our father. I could see a bead of sweat form on the back of his neck. No kid should have to be this nervous just speaking with their father.

”You wanted to know if you were being replaced,” King Vegeta corrected. Vegeta's flinch all but confirmed it. The king looked down at him for a long moment, seconds felt like hours before he made a dismissive sound. ”You are my heir Vegeta. The only things that can change that are your death or disgracement.”