‘Yoongi?’

It’s the first time in days- weeks, that Yoongi feels rested.

His eyes are heavy, and despite the gentle voice calling his name, Yoongi cannot open his eyes.

Sleep has never felt this good. Sleep has never felt this safe.

Sleep has never felt this close to death.

Yoongi had laughed when he heard someone tell him that sleep was like death, but without the commitment of actually dying. He had found it funny then, and it makes him smile again now. Not because he thought it was amusing, but because he agrees.

‘Yoongi?’

The voice switches tone, sounding softer and lighter, as though whoever was calling him had a smile on their lips.

Yoongi wants to ignore the voice despite how sweet it was.

There’s a hand on his hair, fingers carefully carding through his hair and it lulls Yoongi back to sleep.

When he wakes up again, he’s heavily disoriented.

He also realizes he was still smiling.

Whatever food he was able to keep down is lodged in his throat and Yoongi could throw up anytime. But he was too exhausted to even vomit. His vision is blurred and it’s impossible to focus. So Yoongi simply waits for his vision to return to clarity, blinking slowly. Next to him Jimin is also asleep. His arm is looped around Yoongi’s, his body turned and tucked facing him. Yoongi cannot see his face, but he doesn’t need to see the details to know what they looked like. Yoongi could trace the slope of his nose out of sheer memory, could outline the shape of his eyes, outline the soft curves of his lips, pick the exact flushed shade of pink from his cheeks.

Yoongi would laugh if he had the strength.

Laugh at himself for being like this. Not the part about him being sick, but the fact that he was here, in this situation, practically at death’s door, yet completely lost in devotion for this Being he doesn’t even know.

Would there have been a time, another reality, a different time, where he would have met Jimin under different circumstances? Where he could have been introduced, and they would gradually become closer? Or would they have grown together, knowing each other from infancy- where their lives were so integrated that they would have never dreamt of a possibility of never knowing each other. Or would they have been colleagues, smiling politely at each other as they met at some basic canteen.

Maybe if alternative universes existed, if parallel dimensions did exist with theirs, and at this very moment, at this very minute, another Yoongi existed. And in that minute, so did Jimin. And they were together- maybe asleep like this. And maybe instead of being surrounded by death and pain and sorrow, they’re surrounded by simplicity, normality, and the reassurance that when they opened their eyes, the first thing they would see, was each other.

Pain unlike any other he’s felt rips through the hollow of his heart. Where once an organ of wet thrumming tissue pulsed beneath his ribs, existed a husk, drained of life. And even in this state, Yoongi’s heart is broken, and each fragment still burns with pain and sorrow.

With some difficulty, Yoongi turns his head to the other side, unable to endure the heartbreak as he looked upon Jimin.

The captain was on his other side, also asleep. The other 4 remaining were also asleep, the lot of them creating a ring around a moss covered tree.

They weren’t capable of creating a watch anymore. They were too sick.

Too weak.

Too exhausted.

But they stuck close, moving slowly.

Yoongi can hear her shallow breathing, begin to see the sheen of fevered sweat on her skin from this distance. Blinking a few more times, Yoongi’s vision clears. Not a lot, but much better than before.

It stands in front of him.

The red of its clothes bled into the air around it, forcefully altering its surroundings to warp and fold inwards, screaming as they bent out of shape. Everything about it was wrong. Everything about its existence was wrong.

Yoongi is frozen where he sits.

His limbs have no strength, his eyes are barely focusing. But he can’t look away. He cannot shift his gaze from this grotesque force of unnatural evil.

And it holds Yoongi’s gaze. And though Yoongi could see no visible feature, he could sense its eyes and Yoongi cannot look away.

It points at Yoongi, and for a fleeting second, Yoongi believes it’s trying to say something.

‘Yoongi.’

As though electrocuted, Yoongi jolts into action, his breath punching out of him. He throws himself on to all fours and dry heaves, his eyes stinging and burning.

A pair of arms wrap around him and he’s being pulled back with panicked strength.

‘Yoongi!’

Jimin appears before him, distraught and worried. There are obvious sounds of TeorSers firing and Yoongi hears the captain shouting. Jimin holds him tight, his entire body tense, his features hardened, his eyes darting everywhere. Yoongi senses flurried movement around him and he guesses it’s the others. Did someone go missing? It had been a week since the last Being vanished. And 3 days since they left Amic behind, buried in a shallow grave under a blanket of leaves.

The captain appears, her expression beyond tired.

‘We should move,’ she exhales out, her voice drawn and brittle. She doesn’t say anything else.

‘Sunshine, help me stand,’ Yoongi smiles at Jimin, making attempts to stand. Jimin understands at once, and with now shaking limbs, helps Yoongi stand. Jimin pushes back his hair, his hands smoothing out his matted hair, as though attempting to make him feel better.

Yoongi feels his heartbreaking again and he’s not sure, but he thinks Jimin can sense it too. Because he stops, eyes piercing through as though he could see all of Yoongi. His hand falls to his chest, over his heart. His gaze softens, and Yoongi can see nothing except sorrow.

Eclipses were considered beautiful in nearly every planet, every System Yoongi has been to or has heard of.

But was beauty always synonymous to sorrow?

‘I wish I had known you-…in a different life,’ Yoongi tells him, knowing that he still wouldn’t understand. But it was all right.

‘Yoongi?’

Because he always knew, right from the start.

‘Let’s go sunshine.’

That the time of the eclipse would move away, and that veiled Elsewhere where Time seized to exist would come to an end.

And Yoongi would be left behind, dreaming for the warmth of sunlight.

*

Jimin walks in a straight steady line, following the reedy Being before him who keeps glancing back at him. There’s leer to his smile and Jimin wants nothing more than to free his bonds and throw this Being to the floor. After his initial panic and fear abated, Jimin is filled with anger and frustration and a whole world of pain. All around him the survivors of Seulgaan’s ship are being rounded up and placed into freight-like Transporters. No one is using any firearms to order their newly acquired prisoners around at this point. Gigantic constructs like magnified boxy cyborgs patrol the area outside, manned by their controllers and pilots.

‘Hey! Where you taking that one?’ a voice calls out.

‘’s a special one!’ the Being before him calls back. ‘One of them hatched eggs!’

A shiver runs down Jimin’s spine. They knew about the OrTanks?

How? Jimin was under the informed impression that no one outside of a certain ring of Beings within a place called Raksane Tayi knew about this. So how were these Beings of a war-torn planet- a war-torn System aware of the OrTanks?

‘Taking him to the Collectors?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Take the Transporter to the far-end then- it’s leaving soon.’

Jimin is shoved towards the side and steered around harshly. He nearly trips over his feet but rights himself, not wanting to be manhandled or bound again. A rusty but strong Transporter, smaller than the others around the area stands at the very end of the row. Without preamble he’s shoved inside in the back and forced to sit on the floor. Two different hands clamp down on his shoulders at once and keep him down. Jimin finally looks up at his captors.

There were 5 in total inside the Transporter with him, and 2 others in the cockpit.

‘He’s different. Doesn’t look like any of them from Pravasi M’hanun,’ one of them comments as they shine a bright light on his face. Jimin doesn’t flinch, staring away from the point of light and glaring.

‘He’s wearing the uniform though.’ A hand picks at his sleeve and Jimin twists away sharply before he’s forced to sit still again. ‘His eyes are weird.’

‘Maybe some GLA scheme again?’

‘I literally don’t care what he is- we’re gonna get rewarded for bringing him in,’ the one gripping his shoulder spits out. ‘I’m this close to finally affording a way out of this accursed planet- we need to really push for the units.’

‘You really think Zelek will be any better?’

‘They get jobs from out-of-System, they get to travel out and have the freedom to move. Here, we’re just stuck working for them- just fighting- I don’t know about you, but out of the two evils, Zelek is better.’

‘There’s food here-‘

‘This ain’t food-‘

‘I’m 2 full sets away- who knows this midget might get us out.’

Jimin stays put, already trying to draw out and preserve any bit of energy he could use. The Transporter starts to move and a booming thunderous sound erupts. For a moment Jimin thinks something has exploded but when he catches a brief sight of a massive lightning bolt through the badly tinted windows, he realizes they’re outside of Seulgaan’s ship and were now traversing through the storm.

Even out here in nature, he was blocked from being able to somehow absorb back some energy. Were the sun shining, he’d heal faster. Quite suddenly, everything starts to swim before his eyes. His ears give out, a strange warped filter over his sense. An unnatural warmth itches its way from under the suit he’s wearing  and all over his skin.

This was not good.

Unintentionally he exhales out in a loud shudder. His sides are cramping and burning, and in this cramped space the air feels thin and everything starts to catch up to him.

‘He looks like he’s about to throw up,’ one of them grunts- the voice reaches him in a strange slow pull, as though the voice was quite far away. ‘Make sure he doesn’t die-‘

‘Scan him, make sure he’s not gonna snuff it any time soon.’

Vision swimming, Jimin’s body tilts without his approval but he’s being harshly pulled back. Jimin doesn’t realize that he’s passed out, conscious in a weird state of slow thought, pain, and a strange heat that pulses around his head. He’s woken with a sharp stabbing pain right below his ear and a strong coursing cold surges from that spot and violently clears up his head.

The first thing Jimin realizes is that he’s not inside the Transporter- rather he was in a sizeable room that reeked of death and decay. Not just of decomposition or organic breakdown, but of a stale and old, polluted corruption and Jimin realizes the smell is actually the air around him.

‘-less it’s wrong; I thought we got all the hatched ones?’

‘We did- but this one isn’t from here- we got him outta the crashed ship- we think he’s one of them.’

‘Oh?’

Jimin finds himself in a room that resembled the Bridge of a ship though he can immediately tell he’s definitely on ground; there is a chill that permeates through the floor and into his hands and knees that could only come from dark and damp earth.

‘What’s a hatched doing with the Alliance? And no less from the GI.’

They look a lot like Khonen- or at least, from the same species.

‘You shouldn’t have ing killed their boss- could’ve gotten answers from him- you can’t get from their lot,’ another voice speaks out from the corner. ‘Best rid of him fast while he’s incapacitated.’

‘He’s a hatched- that means we get our tallies-‘

‘Get the out and shut your mouth- he’s ours now-‘

‘Come now- let’s at least pay them their trouble,’ the other voice reasons. ‘This is someone they would be interested in- he’s pure after all.’

Jimin looks up at that, wondering what any of this meant. Pure? Isn’t that what the Omhlophe considered themselves? Pure?

They’re not really paying him any attention- he’s hardly a threat right now, incapacitated as he is. Jimin wonders if he really looks all that unwell.

‘We’ll just make sure he’s actually a hatched, then you will receive your dues.’

‘Right sure go ahead,’ his original captors sneer. Looming shadows approach him from the back and before Jimin can defend himself or ready himself, a hand pulls at the collar of his body-suit, pulling right at the hidden lapels with a practiced hand that is both alarming and confusing. How did they know?

His heated skin is suddenly exposed to the cold hair as the lapel falls apart on his back and Jimin shivers violently. There’s an alarming silence that follows.

‘There’s nothing on his back.’

Jimin grits his teeth, willing himself not to squirm too much.

‘Where the did he-‘

‘So you expect us to take your word for it, by stealing a uniform – no less from our private stores! And making some unfortunate slave wear it, you thought we would believe that this was one of the GI? That this was a hatched?’

‘Hey look no-‘

There’s scuffling and a very quick succession of TeorSer fire being shot and Jimin hunches even lower onto the ground, his dizziness hitting him harder. He’s not sure if he’s passed out again but when he opens his eyes again, he finds a few faces looming down at him, turning his head this way and that.

‘Put him through the delivery- and then put him downstairs- if he survives, we send him out - he has a good face.’ One of the blurred faces moves away, dismissive and uncaring.

‘Take the uniform back as well- return it to the stores and make sure its secured.’ The other face goes away as well. One last one lingers and it’s his hand that lingers on Jimin’s head. His fingers get caught in Jimin’s hair strands, pulling rather harshly and roughly.

‘This is pretty,’ he mumbles. ‘Have it sent back to me.’

*

The Užkulisai is ready and set, and with the cell installed, they were completely hidden and camouflaged. Safe, save from the storm they were now forced to sit and wait out. It’s a storm unlike any Namjoon has witnessed. Lightning as thick and wide as the Spardyti streaks overhead, and acidic rain like angry ocean waves washes over the windows in an alarming fashion. The Užkulisai was  without a doubt an exceptionally strong and powerful ship but in conditions as chaotic as this, Namjoon doesn’t want to risk anything; especially when they were handling foreign technology. They only activate the bare minimum and sit in a startlingly quiet and almost out-of-place peacefulness illuminated only by the lightning and the pale green glow of Taeh’yung’s hands.

It was odd, sitting here, and not doing anything- but Namjoon is grateful because they were now all forced to simply be.

‘According to the scans, the storm should be over in 10 minutes,’ Hoseok calls out quietly.

‘What are their positions?’ Namjoon asks even though he could easily check himself.

‘Jimin’s movement have slowed down. He’s definitely moved away from the crash-site, closer towards the mountain ranges,’ Taeh’yung supplies from where he’s sitting next to Yoongi. ‘Jin is still moving- not sure where he’s headed but it’s down north of the scan.’

‘Anything from outside?’ Hoseok asks, head turning a little.

‘Nothing,’ Namjoon shakes his head, ‘Storm is too strong, and there are not enough frequency channels for me to access to check their movements- they have no working satellite.’

‘How do they manage communications then? How do they even fly out?’ Hoseok asks out loud.

‘Probably independent emitters,’ Namjoon ruminates. ‘When they’re out in space, they probably have a series of ships that carry their channels and it links back down here to whatever controls division they might have.’

‘I don’t think there’s any mention of any agent staying here,’ Hoseok frowns. ‘Or simply not this planet- her sister planets might have some archives- but nothing comes to mind from Ynqaba.’

Namjoon himself hadn’t been able to find much about Ynqaba or the Ukuye System. Zelek had recently come to mainstream news due to the terrible famine, causing a lot of her people to flee by all means necessary. Khonen had mentioned working with the Venture Unit as well

‘Some agents work freelance,’ Hoseok adds, as though guessing what Namjoon was thinking. ‘They might be backed up sometimes- but in cases involving non-GLA Systems or planets, they might link some of their leaders or in Zelek’s case, link the merchants or traders with pirates so that they have some form of exchange system.’

‘I thought the Venture Unit provided Systems like Ukuye with aid alongside the Yisheng Directory?’ Namjoon asks with a frown. ‘Even in they’re not under the GLA, if they’re in critical state, the Yisheng Directory always steps in to provide aid and supplies.’

‘My work never brought me here,’ Hoseok explains, ‘If there was anything about Ukuye, it wasn’t important enough to be discussed in the meetings or I was just never ever around to hear it.’

‘How did the war even start though?’ Taeh’yung asks from the front, kneeling on the chair and peering over the back at them.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Why did it start?’

Hoseok glances at Namjoon in question as well before shrugging at Taeh’yung.

‘I’m not sure about it to be honest,’ the Ngfy’widan replies.

‘From what I could find, the System, much like the Ghandhar System, wished to remain separated from the GLA,’ Namjoon surmises. ‘But it fell into internal corruption, in-planet and out-planet wars. Resources aren’t the highest or readily available in Ukuye, unlike Ghandhar which is why it’s able to flourish despite being independent of the GLA.’

‘It’s funny,’ Taeh’yung says quietly, resting his head on his arms, eyes glowing green as he tracks a bright streak of lightning overhead.

‘What is?’ Namjoon asks, wondering what Taeh’yung could possibly mean.

‘All of the trouble we’ve seen, all of the misery we’re seeing, all comes from Systems and Planets that do not fall under the GLA,’ he remarks, his head craning around to follow the lightning bolt. ‘It’s almost as though they’re being punished.’

Namjoon’s heard enough stories and gossip regarding the “conspiracy theories” of the GLA. About how non GLA-systems were not only more likely to suffer, but were most likely targeted by pirates and other forms of misfortune not just because they lacked the GLA security, but because everything was designed and constructed by the GLA themselves to do so. How the GLA purposefully neglected certain Systems or planets because adding them would bring no actual benefit. And maybe there was truth to that. And maybe there wasn’t any.

And maybe now Namjoon was more inclined to believe it because the force of good behind the GLA, the heart of kindness that directed the path of the GLA, were found and exposed, uncovering their hypocrisy and unsettling similarity to totalitarianism.

‘No force exists that allows dominance of power like that Tae,’ Hoseok says in an unexpectedly gentle way. ‘Most Systems and Planets that aren’t part of the GLA that fall under such circumstances aren’t a result of punishment or some twisted form of submission. It’s mainly because they are vulnerable without the GLA, and because they have Beings who are in power who do not think beyond their own selfishness.’

Taeh’yung just continues to stare out into the sky with doleful eyes.

‘It’s not just GLA propaganda,’ Hoseok continues. ‘They really do try.’

‘What would happen if the GLA didn’t exist?’ Taeh’yung asks, lifting a hand as he points along the path of a large bolt of lightning.

‘I don’t know,’ Hoseok shrugs. ‘More war, more fights- starvation, lack of development and advancement.’

‘So the GLA intervenes, pauses the natural progression of a planet, of a System, for profit?’ Taeh’yung looks down, hand still pointing up. ‘Isn’t that the opposite of what the Yisheng believe in?’

‘I don’t know Tae,’ Hoseok replies with a shrug. ‘And there’s no point in speculating what the Universe would have been like, or what it would be like- if there are things that need to be changed, then we cannot look to the past with regret, we can only look to now and fix what we can.’

Taeh’yung blinks a few times, his eyes unfocused before he nods slowly and with a strange smile says, ‘You’re right.’

Namjoon doesn’t know how much of what Hoseok said was something the Ngfy’widan himself believed. It sounded very optimistic and though Namjoon did not believe that optimism was foolishness, it seemed a hard virtue to own when you had a history as intense as Hoseok’s.

‘5 minutes before the storm clears.’ Yoongi announces.

‘We need to first find a tower or transformer so that I can access their systems,’ Namjoon repeats one more time. He’s sure Hoseok doesn’t need reminding, but Yoongi was exactly all there, and he could never be sure of Taeh’yung. ‘Then after that we find have a clear layout of this place they’re keeping Jimin in, I’ll cut the power, Taeh’yung and I will distract them away from his position, Yoongi will retrieve Jimin, and Hoseok will remain at the ship to fly us out. All clear?’

Taeh’yung nods enthusiastically whereas Hoseok just raises a thumb’s up in acknowledgement. There’s no movement from Yoongi.

‘Yoongi?’

‘Understood,’ the Human replies.

Namjoon grimaces but doesn’t linger on the topic. The sky outside was already lightening and the storm looked a little bit more like a storm.

When the storm reduces to a steady shower of rain, they begin activating the ship. To Namjoon’s intense relief, everything was working well and one glance at the monitors and screens show that the cell was working as it should.

‘Keep us close to the terrain- we need to make sure we’re not visibly spotted,’ Namjoon orders as he pulls up the screen indicating Jimin’s indication. His dot had come to a complete standstill next to the base of a long mountain range. Sk’jin’s was still moving, away from their general area. Despite their obvious disagreements and grievances they had with each other, Namjoon understands Sk’jin’s use and importance to this mission. Not to mention just how much he knew. They couldn’t lose him at this point, for more than one reason.

Namjoon still doesn’t trust the Khol’isa. There were many things unexplained, many questions unanswered, and a lot of explanations that didn’t make sense. So while Sk’jin was useful for the mission, Namjoon wants the Khol’isa to be within his sight to make sure he wouldn’t do something detrimental towards them as a whole.

‘There’s an acid fog above the mountains, we could use it as camouflage,’ Hoseok reports, alerting Namjoon. The Kutsoglerin looks away from Sk’jin’s blinking dot and focuses on the view before him. Ynqaba was pretty flat, but they were coming around to some rather spiky and strangely formed mountains. They’re black and sharp in appearance, almost unnatural in their formation. Namjoon hadn’t read any information regarding any form of destruction over the continents of Ynqaba so he’s not sure if this was a result of warfare or just their natural terrain. Either way, it was providing them with surprisingly convenient coverage.

‘Acidity level?’ Namjoon asks.

‘At 5.6,’ Lisai replies smoothly.

‘Everyone wear a protective suit- you too Hoseok,’ Namjoon orders.

‘I’ll go get them!’ Taeh’yung cheerily volunteers, leaping off of his seat.

‘Lisai run a scan to check for the closest port of electricity,’ Namjoon orders, readying his NaviLet.

‘Searching.’

Namjoon waits all but 10 seconds patiently before Hoseok turns around to give him a confused glance.

‘It shouldn’t take that long-‘

‘Refining search.’

‘Frequencies should be available on the ground at least,’ Hoseok frowns. ‘Even if they don’t have satellites.’

‘None found.’

Even Yoongi turns around in his seat to look at Namjoon, expression expectant.

‘Well- this certainly changes things,’ Hoseok frowns. ‘How are we supposed to enter this place if we can’t access any digital port?’

‘Hoseok land us somewhere close- so that we can check the parameters,’ Namjoon orders with a frown as they continue to glide silently through the fog.

‘If there’s no electrical outlet, we can’t use BluePrint.’

Namjoon shakes his head, thinking hard. Taeh’yung comes back, gear and suit at the ready in his arms.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asks, eyes wide.

This was why the Ynqaba fleet had been so quick to use magnetic pulses to cripple them. To an extent, their technology which was so compromised, was actually an advantage for them against other Beings who relied heavily on digital-frequency based technology.

‘If we’re going to do this as planned, we’re going to have to do this blind.’ Namjoon announces before he adds, ‘Lisai, reverse our own magentic fields outside the ship- so if they detonate another pulse, we won’t get affected.’

‘Understood.’

‘We’re all going to have get out there- not enough eyes,’ Hoseok indicates outwards as he takes a suit from Taeh’yung with a small smile at the Zhak’gri.

‘Actually no,’ Namjoon shakes his head.

‘What do you mean?’ Hoseok glances over at him briefly. ‘For the plan to work, I’ll need to go on ground.’

‘No- we land close enough, drop Yoongi off- if it’s only him, he won’t be noticed,’ Namjoon explains. ‘We take the Užkulisai and create the distraction past down the mountain range.’

‘But-‘

‘Understood,’ Yoongi stands, taking the suit from Taeh’yung.

‘We’re at a disadvantage,’ Namjoon tells Hoseok bluntly. ‘We’re used to moving around in a setting where everything is accessible and attainable through our screens, through our Comms- but this is another world. And for us to get Jimin out, we need to access him the way he was brought here- manually. And Yoongi is our best chance.’

Hoseok pauses for a moment, as though mulling his statement in his mind before nodding.

‘Yoongi, want my Heliord?’ he asks the Human who was freely changing into the suit.

‘I already have it.’ Yoongi pulls the handle out from behind (?!?!) him and swings it once before pocketing it into the WeatherBeat coat Taeh’yung holds up as though to hide his modesty. Hoseok does a double take, gasping loudly.

‘Wait what-?!’

'Approaching suitable landing site.' Lisai announces.

'Land us,' Namjoon orders as Yoongi finishes suiting up. 'Scan the area just in case-'

'Woah!' Taeh'yung exclaims loudly, pressing up against the window eagerly. 'Such a weird mountain!'

'Taeh'yung maybe sit down-' Hoseok calls tiredly but he suddenly stops. 

Squinting a little, Namjoon waits for the acidic wash of fog to thin as they land. To his surprise, their landing sounds strangely hollow, the weird echo as the beamers brush away debris from what Namjoon had thought was the mountain side.

'This isn't a mountain,' Hoseok is getting off of his seat, grabbing a screen as he jogs up to the window. 'This is a ship.'

Namjoon immediately starts a deeper scan.

'Lisai- identify make and design of unidentified ship.' he orders, quickly waiting for the scan to finish. But before Lisai can announce it Yoongi speaks up rather quietly and casually.

'This is a customized exploratory ship designed and customized for the usage of the Yisheng.'

'Vessel J'ù ēn-00-87, registered under the Yisheng Directory.' 

'What is this doing here?' 

'I don't know, but I think I know why the Omhlophe were looking for more "eggs" here,' Namjoon says tersely. 'Come on- let's get going.'

*

Times were simpler when one look at Sk’jin made nearly every Being quake in awe, fear, and respect. When his name commanded attention and wariness. When his glare literally stopped fights. Or started them. When the sound of his laughter brought chills down backs.

Spaces, he missed those times.

Now he’s sat in the back of a Transporter that has definitely seen better days. Probably also smelt better some 30 sols ago. Right now it smelt a bit like cured meat, wood smoke, damp laundry, and old air-coolant. Not a pleasant combination but Sk’jin reminds himself that his olfactory senses would adapt to the smell in approximately 3 minutes. Hopefully.

He’d been in a strange state of being half-conscious, half-knocked out. He vaguely remembers being taken out of the Užkulisai, no Yoongi in sight, and out into a very windy very dry arid landscape. He could’ve sworn he saw crumbling buildings at one point but that was it. Then he out for a while, coming around only to find himself strapped into a seat, inside a Transporter of sorts.

There’s a total of 4 Beings inside the Transporter, not counting the two who sat up front beyond several partitions.

No one says anything, just sitting in a sort of resigned smelly silence that Sk'jin picks up on immediately despite his headache. Most of them had removed their heavy rustic gear save for the smallest of them. They were a lot more anthropomorphic than Sk’jin had guessed, their skin not so harshly grey as he had first registered. Or perhaps it was the lighting. Their eyes are dark, pupils a little smaller than usual. A majority of them were masked, or had protective goggles on, one of them in particular is nearly entirely covered up in dark and heavy gear. What hair Sk’jin can see is thin and rather fragile looking. Their entire species, as a planet, and as a System, were suffering greatly. Khonen had mentioned his planet’s suffering and as a sister planet, Sk’jin has no doubt that Ynqaba was going through the same, or worse, conditions. He can't quite make out their faces, but he can tell that they're not exactly a specialized military unit or even a rebel force. They appeared to be a rather odd combination of Beings, ages varying though they all appeared to be of the same species.

They’re watching him carefully.

'Family?' Sk'jin manages to croak out. 'Risky isn't it though?'

Nearly everyone's eyes quickly flit over to the figure sitting opposite Sk'jin. Ah, the leader, Sk'jin ruminates, quickly eyeing the Being. Even though he was masked, Sk'jin can tell that he's older, much older, than the others gathered here. He's not too sure about the physical aging process of the Beings living here but he guesses due to recent environmental and mental upheaval across their planet, their life spans were shortened and aging spurred on. Different from Khol'isa of course, where they were stuck in one continuous eternity of bleeding darkness.

'You all scavengers or something?' Sk'jin asks out loud.

They’re looking at him curiously, as though not quite sure what to make of him. Which was understandable of course. Sk’jin did greet them with hysterical laughter, missing teeth, bloodied clothes, apparently all alone in a ship that crashed onto their planet out of nowhere. Spaces, he was going to punch Yoongi if he ever saw the Human again.

Sk’jin’s headache is gnawing away at his temples and right above his eyebrows. He wants to rub at them, or maybe bash his head against the closest wall. Even a pillar would do.

'My name is Sk'jin by the way- thought you'd like to know. I'm from Khol'isa,' Sk'jin introduces himself blithely. He's met with more confused expression.

'No introductions? Oh well,' Sk'jin shrugs. 'So, how long until we get where we're supposed to go? Because I think I might be bleeding out somewhere and honestly if you don't have a Yisheng on site or something I might die without medical aid. Got knocked around quite violently you know?'

There's still no response.

'I really don't think you're gonna get any units from whoever you're trying to sell me to if I'm dead- just saying.' Sk'jin shrugs again.

If Sk’jin had been in their position, he would have left himself behind immediately. Because he recognized a lost-cause when he saw one.

And Sk’jin has been lost ever since he drew his first shaking breath, covered in muck and his own cellular waste, violently trembling in Taeh’yung’s arms 4 sols ago.

'Get him a press,' one of them says roughly. Sk'jin doesn't know what a press is, but can only hope it's something compressed designed to relieve his pain, and not squash him. The smallest of them all, who was the one covered head to foot in protective gear, approaches him and Sk'jin notes that this one is female, and much younger, judging by her actions and timid movements. She pushes up her goggles and Sk’jin can immediately tell she’s not the same species as those gathered here. Her eyes are wide, pupils a warm brown and large. What skin is exposed is fair and much smoother than the others. Her eyes however are sharp and wary- she might be young and possibly inexperienced, but it clearly wasn't going to stop her from killing him if it came down to it. Sk'jin gives her his best fatherly smile. The look of blank confusion is a little bit too amusing so Sk'jin ends up chuckling. She gives pause, her posture rigid, ready to spring aside.

'Sorry! It's just, I tried to look reassuring but I'm just really bad at it!' Sk'jin manages to say amidst laughter. ‘And also, if you really want to get profit off of me, I think it’s best to demand over 800,000 units- wait, do you use Standard units here?’

He’s met with blanched faces, wide eyes. So maybe the notion of 800,000 units was a little improbable.

‘You’re telling me you won’t get paid that much? Even the Alliance sells their cheapest slaves over 50,000 units. That’s the minimum price.’

‘The Alliance is dead,’ a voice tells him sharply.

‘And so I’ve heard,’ Sk’jin shrugs, remembering the rumbling information they had received from the Khonen in Ubhuku. Khonen was from this planet, Sk’jin remembers with a grimace. ‘But it’s the Alliance’s fault I crashed here so I guess we’re both telling the truth but only one of us is right.’

There’s a rather pregnant pause following his statement before the Being Sk’jin labeled as their leader speaks.

‘The Alliance was destroyed over 20 sols ago- in our very System,’ he states. ‘We went to war with them and destroyed all remaining major ships- we know what Alliance ships look like- that was not one.’

Sk’jin thinks back to what he read and he’s pretty sure he didn’t come across any information like that. Also, if this was true, it would mean that Namjoon would have read about it and they would have been given an hour long lecture about it no doubt. The young female peels off a small object carefully with surprisingly clean fingers and trimmed nails before applying the light object to the side of Sk’jin’s neck. Sk’jin notices how her exposed skin is glaringly different from Khonen and the others gathered around. But he dismisses that observation for a moment and concentrates back on their leader.

Or maybe he was right. Maybe they really did fight the Alliance in this System and it was covered up because this System wasn’t registered under the GLA and the GLA wouldn’t want the glory of defeating the Alliance given to a seemingly small and weak unknown System. Sk’jin wants to roll his eyes; politics, ruining everything.

‘Well- that ship that crashed on your surface around the same time I did was a slaver ship that belonged to a very much active member of the Alliance- I would know because you know, I was escaping him.’ Sk’jin shrugs.

Reckless, a voice that sounds annoyingly like Namjoon’s sounds in his ear and Sk’jin ignores it. Whatever she had applied on his neck was working slowly but surely- it was probably some form of pain killer. Anyways; so what if he was reckless? He was pretty much abandoned on this planet, with the likeliness of his rescue practically 0. What did he have to lose? Maybe he could actually turn this situation around and work it to his advantage. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s randomly been stranded on a planet that’s in political chaos and left it carrying an honourary title of sorts. It would in fact be the 7^th time if he chose to do so. It would have been the 8^th if he had agreed to some arranged marriage but Sk’jin was not about that lifestyle so he simply faked his own death and left the planet while Nambike complained the entire way.

He’s met with scoffs.

‘Am I wrong? Pray, do correct me and tell me about it,’ Sk’jin pretends to make himself comfortable, leaning back on the uncomfortable wall. He’s given a lot of skeptical looks, but Sk’jin waits expectantly. The young female starts to check on his injuries, starting with his head.

‘What’s there to tell?’ another female voice speaks out from the side. ‘There was a huge war with the Alliance, we won, divided the resources gained from it, and somewhere along the line we ed up and here we are.’

‘By the Alliance do you really mean the Isbahaysiga Alliance?’ the young female asks rather abruptly.

‘Camat!’ a voice hisses sharply.

‘The very one,’ Sk’jin nods, angling his head so that she could access his injuries better. ‘This ship was controlled by the Tayian Van Seulgaan, wonder if he survived the crash- either way I’m sure there are more of him around.’

‘It doesn’t matter if there were survivors or not,’ the young Being tells him, Camat, with a scowl. ‘They just want the ship and its raw resources.’

‘They?’

‘Collectors.’

Ah, the Collectors.

‘Then why didn’t you take my ship? If that’s the main thing you want.’

‘We’re not there yet,’ she tells him resignedly before dabbing a piece of gauze in a rather suspicious salve jar.

‘Ah,’ Sk’jin hums in understanding before hissing as his wounds start to smart. ‘You guys are really low.’

He’s met again with irritated glares but there’s no argument.

The Transporter suddenly halts and there’s a string of curses. The salve Camat is using splatters and Sk’jin winces, tasting the bitter medicine.

‘Oh! Sorry-‘ she’s saying but she’s pulled back and a tense atmosphere fills the air.

‘What’s going on-‘ Sk’jin grimaces as he swallows involuntarily with a shudder.

‘Shh!’

The partition between the cockpit and the back seals shut and Sk’jin is dragged to sit beneath it. Camat crouches down next to him as well and pulls over the boxes of random devices they had stolen off of the Užkulisai and quickly covers it with fabric that stiffens and forms a convincing metallic camouflage that resembles the interior of the Transporter. It’s dark, only a bit of faint illumination seeps through whatever camouflage was covering them. Sk’jin makes himself small and shimmies down even more and out of sight. Camat gives him a quizzical look, as though wondering why Sk’jin was so easy and quick to comply. Her eyes are strangely orb like in the dark- not exactly glowing, not exactly reflective. They almost remind Sk’jin of the eyes of nocturnal animals. He’s sure she can see very well in the dark. It’s apparent she doesn’t trust him because instead of holding up the gauze with the medicinal salve she had been dabbing on his forehead, a sharp dagger now rested under his jaw.

‘This really isn’t necessary,’ he whispers. Camat levels him with a glare worthy of Namjoon.

There are 3 distinct knocking bangs on the door and Camat presses the blade close in warning. Sk’jin rolls his eyes in response.

The doors swing open and there’s the tell-tale sounds of TeorSer activation. And not only that but the wind is literally howling and the sound of thunder mid-crack booms in the air.

‘Anything to declare?’ a voice calls in. Sk’jin surmises that they’ve been stopped by a patrol of sorts.

‘Nothing- headed home after a run near the Cliffs,’ the leader replies.

‘Oh? Didn’t see that crash?’

‘Saw it- others got there before we did- and a storm is coming up.’

‘Hey, come on Bhān, you’ve got Dilag driving- no storm is going to stop you.’ Another voice chimes in. ‘Come on- out, we’ll do the search and if you’re telling the truth you can go, easy. If you’re telling the truth of course.’

‘Neither of us are equipped to handle a storm that size, it’ll be best if we start moving-‘

‘Come on out Bhān- you and your little group- oh, your daughter ain’t around? A pity,’ the same voice comments.

Sk’jin chances a look at Camat and her expression, or at least what Sk’jin can make out, is cold but afraid.

Ah, I see.

‘Listen Nakā- we don’t ask question-‘

‘A’āpyu- let’s go,’ Bhān says quietly, ‘Everyone step out.’

The blade from under Sk’jin’s jaw quickly moves away and Sk’jin chances another look at Camat who isn’t bothering to look at him anymore, her stance defensive. There are footsteps, objects moving around and rough banter. Sk’jin and Camat do not look away from each other, waiting in apprehensive anticipation.

Camat was clearly the “daughter” in question here. And Bhān, the leader of this unit was her “father”. They were clearly not the same species and the patrol knew about her and were “curious”. Clearly, Bhān had no intention of letting them near Camat, risking her hiding here in the back with Sk’jin, a complete stranger who was possibly insane.  

Footsteps approach their spot and Camat tenses even more, her grip on her dagger tightening. She makes to rise, clearly ready to strike out.

Now, Sk’jin is pretty sure that there is no chance of their fighting and escaping this unscathed and honestly this group seems much better than whatever patrol unit was outside. Quietly and quickly Sk’jin reaches over and pulls Camat down, shaking his head before he stands swiftly.

There are all together 4, not a large number, but what was daunting was the automated megastructure outside, large weaponized claws aimed straight at the entrance. Great, this planet used and implemented rustic cybortronic machines as part of their weaponry. Cybotronics were crude, rustic, and rather wasteful in terms of fuel, but great for planets like Ynqaba, where apparently the citizens were surviving based on a scavenger-lifestyle.

‘Hello,’ Sk’jin smiles in greeting at the 4 TeorSer nozzles aimed at him at once, his arms are up, palms facing them. ‘My name is Sk’jin, it’s a pleasure to meet all of you.’

It’s a stifling moment of intense tension but Sk’jin doesn’t stop smiling. Then the TeorSers lower and Sk’jin has a clear and unobstructed view of their faces, and most importantly, has all of their attention. It’s all he can work with right now- he has no access to hallucinogens, no hypnotic element.   

But that was never an issue for Sk’jin in reality.

‘If you could lower your TeorSers, I’m sure there’s nothing here of value or interest to any of you,’ he smiles, concentrating as he steps closer, eyes never leaving the Being in front of him.

Many Beings (like Namjoon) believed that the Khol’isa could only use their abilities with the aid of hallucinogens and other little helpful items. This was a misconception the earliest Khol’isa evolutions established in order for them to gain the trust of the Universe they found themselves integrating into. And while Sk’jin doesn’t know if the same applies to others of his own species, he has never needed any additional help. In his experience there were some who could withstand and hold up their own, but that was incredibly rare.

So when face to face with these 4 simple-minded, starved, single-minded Beings, it was all too easy for Sk’jin to wrap them all around his finger.

‘Hey-‘

Sk’jin doesn’t look away, staring deep and straight into the patrol guards eyes.

‘We’re just returning from our run- we saw nothing. Storm spooked us,’ Sk’jin purposefully makes his voice a little lower, smoother. Stepping even closer, Sk’jin whispers, ‘Why don’t we keep this a secret? Between us?’

It taints their eyes briefly- and Sk’jin doesn’t know if this is something he imagines, or something he hates, but their eyes twinkle with the faintest red, and the Bloodmoon looms above him once more.

‘Understood- nothing to see here,’ the patrol states simply with a rather lazy smile. ‘The storm is headed around south-east,- so you guys be careful yeah?’

And rather simply, they hop aboard the cybortronic and amble off into the darkening scape.

Stretching a little, Sk’jin smiles as his would be captors enter the Transporter again, masks gone and expressions bewildered. There were 2 females, and 3 males- and they all looked aged though Sk’jin is sure they weren’t as old as their faces suggested. TeorSers are at the ready, their posture tense. One of them steps forward closer, entirely  removing his head piece to reveal a balding greyish head, spotted all over in darker spots. Bhān, Sk’jin realizes, is definitely older than the others gathered. He was also most definitely the leader as the others wait behind him for his command.

‘What did you do?’ Bhān demands, though he doesn’t appear hostile. Just curious and a little wary.

‘My species- we’re rare,’ Sk’jin replies with a shrug, wincing as he exerts his muscles. Fatigue hits him quite hard. Great, he really doesn’t want to pass out again, he can literally hear his cells screaming at him. ‘So I’m not surprised that you haven’t heard of us. Most of the GLA haven’t.’

‘What was that? Hypnosis?’ Camat asks, stepping out from behind Sk’jin.

‘That’s a pretty basic summary yeah,’ Sk’jin takes a deep breath before his body decides it wants to sit.

‘Hey woah-‘ Camat is there, suddenly pulling her mask down. She’s remarkably unlike the others- skin smooth and fair, a strange blood-stain that edges out from under her eyes in a way that’s definitely purposefully species-related. Her teeth are strangely larger than what they should be, and are blunt and heavy looking. ‘We really should get him treated. This isn’t good.’

Bhān looks down at him, his expression calculating and careful.

‘Why didn’t you use that against us? Turn us away from your ship,’ he asks instead.

‘Well-‘ Sk’jin pauses, chuckling a little under his breath when he realizes just how much Yoongi had preplanned everything. He incapacitated Sk’jin to the point of being unable to use his abilities yet awake enough to somehow still save his skin. ‘-to be fair, I wasn’t exactly the most lucid or stable.’

Camat snorts, hastily disguising it as a cough.

‘And I didn’t really sense any threat for you. Danger sure, but no threat,’ Sk’jin replies, leaning back and promptly sitting up again when his body protested the movement.

‘Why don’t you use it on us now?’

‘Do you want me to?’ Sk’jin asks back before adding, ‘Look, I’m stuck here, away from my ship, in an unknown planet, with what appears to be a ridiculous storm approaching. I have no intention of escaping this place, getting lost, and eventually dying in a planet I wasn’t even supposed to come to. You’re my only chance of survival right now, obviously, so that’s why I’m here.’

He shrugs again, calmly waiting as they process his statement. And it was the truth. There was nothing Sk’jin could do stranded in this planet- his only way of survival was with them.

‘Listen,’ Sk’jin knows that this is prime time to somehow get himself out of this situation without being sold off or killed somewhere. Sure they didn’t look particularly threatening, he got lucky, but he could always get sold off to Beings who could do worse. If there was a way of going back, then this was it. Though a small voice in the back of his head asks why he was even bothering in the first place. If the others come to get them, their priority would be Jimin. Meaning they’d meet Yoongi, who would tell them what happened. It was unlikely Namjoon would be willing the risk of remaining here just to find and collect him.

‘I get that you need to sell me to like, I dunno, get units to get some anti-rust spray for this tin-bucket but,’ Sk’jin gestures to the Transporter. ‘But I have a ship, missing crew, and an important deadline to meet. Whatever you’re getting paid is not going to be worth it- I would know, because I know I’m expensive. And you are not getting your money’s worth.’

No one says a word.

‘I need to get back to my ship- make sure it can fly, and find my crew,’ Sk’jin continues. ‘If you need units, then I can give you more than you could possibly hope to receive from your Collectors or whatever they’re called.’

‘It’s not units we’re getting,’ Camat tells him quietly. ‘We’re paying our dues by handing you over.’

Huh, Sk’jin thinks, this was unusual. ‘You’re paying to live?’

‘Camat,’ Bhān says quietly. She lowers her head a little as though in apology.

‘It’s getting late,’ one of the females states. ‘What do we do? We can’t get to the Collectors before the storm.’

‘Yeah- and I’m not risking driving us through that without refueling,’ another adds.

Bhān looks around at the Beings behind him before glancing over at Camat.

‘Pe,’ she says quietly, an almost whiney tone to her voice. Father, Sk’jin thinks to himself, wondering how and why he found himself intruding upon another war-trope of a story.

Bhān nods once and the team moves in practiced unison. Two head back towards the front at the cockpit, and the others climb up on board. Camat is smiling, helping him shift back into a much more comfortable position. Sk’jin isn’t quite sure what to make of the smile and what it could mean but he hopes it’s nothing stupid.

‘Storms coming in- we’re settling down until it blows over.’ Bhān orders as they all step inside again.

‘I’ll be able to fix you up once we’re back in the den,’ she tells him. ‘Just hang in there for about an hour.’

‘An hour?’ Sk’jin wheezes. ‘I don’t make promises I can’t keep.’

‘Pe, can we use another press?’ she turns, addressing Bhān. He nods and Camat moves back towards the gear lined up the side of the Transporter.

‘An hour,’ Bhān states. ‘You might want to tell me why and how you’re here, and why you seem to think the Alliance is still alive.’

Sk’jin sighs, making himself comfortable before talking. He tells them an abridged, altered version of what happened combined with their go-to cover-story. They were a trade ship that had an unfortunate run in with the alliance because their cargo was switched at a Dock. They came here to exchange their cargo but due to the battle taking place above, they were both caught in between the line of fire and plummeted down.

There’s a sharp and short burst of laughter from the front. The main driver, a hardened and rather sharp looking native looks back briefly with an amused expression.

‘You have the worst luck.’

‘Tell me about it,’ Sk’jin mutters.

‘So your crew- all dead?’ one of the females, A’āpyu, asks him.

‘I don’t know,’ Sk’jin replies and he’s actually being honest. Other than Yoongi, he has no clear indication that any of the others were alive, or even in the System anymore. ‘I need to find them.’

‘We registered two Beings inside your ship before we approached,’ she informs him, looking serious and worried, as though concerned for Sk’jin’s unfortunate ship-mate. Sk’jin could snort.

‘There were 3 of us inside the ship as we plunged- I tried my best to control the ship, but gravity, missiles, my injuries,’ Sk’jin sighs again. ‘I was at least somewhat able to not flatten myself.’

Camat gives him a rueful smile at that, carefully applying the press to his neck this time before handing him a small metallic canteen of water. Sk’jin drinks greedily and quickly, nodding his thanks. While the others seem to believe him, Bhān watches him with careful eyes. And it wasn’t just a thing that the leader would do- it was almost as though he knew that Sk’jin was purposefully leaving out key information. Sk’jin winks at him, and he gets an eye-roll in response.

‘Storms behind us- wind is picking up. Strap down,’ the driver calls as the Transporter hums and a distinct clicking sound resounds before the familiar pressure of a vacuum seal settles.

‘Storms that bad here?’ Sk’jin asks as Camat helps him secure his safety belt.

‘We’re lucky it’s not that acidic. Again.’

Sk’jin snorts.

‘Has it always been this bad?’ he asks, nodding outwards.

Bhān shakes his head with a short laugh. ‘It wasn’t like this even 20 sols ago.’

’20 sols?’ Sk’jin raises his eyebrows.

‘I know,’ he snorts with a shake of his head. ‘No one would believe us.’

But Sk’jin does. Because he’s seen this happen many times. Too many times. And sometimes within a sol, within months. Sometimes it didn’t even take a full day.

‘Was it a neighbouring planet?’ he ventures.

A few of them laugh, heads thrown back.

‘No- no, we did this to ourselves,’ Bhān tells him as the Transporter tilts and the driver grumbles an apology- looking out of the main window, Sk’jin is grateful for the vacuum seal because it was more “ravaging ocean and lightning” rather than “storm”.

‘After the war with the Alliance, all the planets suffered greatly- ours more than others. We were already low on resources and well- our ecosystem isn’t the kindest. We were struggling and in the end…we did this to ourselves. We elected and voted for death, rejoiced when he came into power, and still raised cheers as he broke all of our alliances.’

‘Ah,’ Sk’jin nods in understanding, looking away from the window. ‘Government collapse?’

‘We saw it coming, but we chose to ignore it,’ Bhān sighs. ‘Within a few sols everything changed. We thought it was a process of transformation- for good. We felt heard, like we were finally being given the opportunity to speak out against those who benefited from the war- from those who never fought the war but only watched on, saving themselves.’

‘But we were just used as usual,’ A’āpyu cuts in, her eyes a little unfocused, clearly reliving something in her memories. ‘We were used and discarded- we gave ourselves over to the very Beings who abandoned us. And they made us feel as though it was all through our own free will.’

Sk’jin has this happen too many times. He wouldn’t say he was surprised. Disappointed maybe, that the Universe still hadn’t changed in all the centuries he was gone. In fact, now that he’s here, he could say that it’s gotten much worse.

‘So what happened? Why are you paying “rent”?’

Bhān sighs heavily, ‘Being alive is expensive. And it’s the only thing we know how to do.’

Sk’jin grimaces comically and this makes everyone laugh.

‘It’s not just that,’ A’āpyu snorts, ‘It’s like you said- it’s rent. Ynqaba has turned into a planet where you turn in everything you find that’s salvageable for trade or the military, and you’re given rations in exchange. You work for food.’

‘My ship has a lot of food,’ Sk’jin chimes in with his most winning smile despite now being half slathered over in bitter salve. ‘I can offer you my weight in food.’

‘It’s not just that,’ A’āpyu laughs, shaking her head while Camat looks amused too. ‘We need to register ourselves every week- we add our credits like that, and when we gather enough, we can migrate to better regions, even planets.’

Sk’jin raises a single crusty eyebrow at that (it’s harder than you think). He thinks back to what Khonen had told them, about how his planet was at the brink of starvation and how he was working for the Omhlophe hoping they would provide them with a solution.

‘So-…these Collectors of yours- they’re the ones who control things?’ Sk’jin inquires.

‘Not quite,’ Bhān shakes his head. ‘They’re the ones who stamp our trades, they rack up our tallies. But in the end they’re basically just the delivery system.’

Sk’jin would be taken aback by how easily they were telling him all of this; considering he was a stranger who just displayed abilities that shouldn’t be taken lightly. But at the same time he’s not.

Because they had nothing to lose by telling him all of this.

The most likely outcome from all of this would change nothing for them. Sk’jin was a foreign factor they could get rid of if they wanted. What they did to him could potentially benefit them, they could get a pretty good deal regardless of whether or not they were being paid their actual dues considering Sk’jin’s value. Or if they chose to let him go, still have absolutely no effect. If they do come to an agreement or arrangement, then Sk’jin was entirely dependent on them and Bhān knew this.

‘Who are the Collectors?’ Sk’jin asks curiously. ‘Are they from around here? Another planet? Remnants from the Alliance? They don’t happen to wear white robes do they?’

‘What? No,’ Camat scoffs as she ties a lengthy gauze around his head securely, the salve squishing into his hair. ‘They’re just a bunch hoo-ha’s that have nothing better to do other than pretend they’re better than all of us.’

Bhān’s expression blanches, his posture a little tense as he studies Sk’jin carefully. Sk’jin is about to question him, honing in on the eldest of this crew when he quickly but surely shakes his head and subtly nods his head away. Later, he signs, we will talk later.

‘There- that’s all I can do for now,’ Camat tells him with a small smile.

‘I am healed already,’ Sk’jin remarks with a graceful bow of his head and adds with sincerity: ‘Thank you.’

She smiles wider now, looking sheepish and goes to sit next to her father. Sk’jin winks at Bhān again before he looks around at the others.

‘So! How come you all speak such good Standard?’

*

‘No-!’ Jimin tries jerking away but he’s met with a sharp and heavy blow across his jaw and he’s pinned down on the chair.

His head is jerked back and before he can register anything else, a burning searing pain runs down his scalp and there’s a burst of laughter at his cry of pain.

He’d been bodily carried out of the room and lugged around like a sack of meat. If Jimin had any food in his guts, he’d been throwing up already. But his body felt hollow and oddly separated, especially after they removed the GI-suit off of him and threw a worn and dirty tunic over his body. The suit had been heavy, but it had protected him- now Jimin feels incredibly vulnerable, and his pain doubles. There was a prickling shot of sorts directed on his neck and Jimin guesses it was a sort of medicine, to at least keep him somewhat alive for whatever purpose they had for him. It helps clear his mind from the fog of fever and pain a little.

His head is jerked back again and the same buzzing sound rings at his ear and the burning shave skims across his scalp.

Not wanting to give them the satisfaction of knowing he was in pain, Jimin grinds his teeth down and bears the burning pulling heat on his scalp. Chunks of his hair falls around him and in all honesty, he doesn’t care for his hair like that; it was in the fact that this was being done to him against his will.

Jimin feels tainted and used.

Yoongi’s face comes unbidden to his mind and Jimin’s anger, fear, and pain vanishes in an instant.

Phantom touches of the Human’s hand running through his hair cools down his burning scalp, and the panic rising up his throat like bile ebbs away. And instead Jimin feels exhausted. He wants to crawl towards that uncertain but gentle touch. To just give in and slump down, knowing that he would protect him.

But he remains rigid and as impassive as he can until all of his hair falls off and his body shivers beyond his own control. There’s gruff talk again and he’s being shoved out of the seat. Doing his most to keep his balance, Jimin rights himself.

Jimin focuses only on Yoongi.

Thoughts of the Human.

The soothing timbre of his voice, the quiet certainty of his presence, the calming quality of his touch.

The burning light in his eyes every time he held Jimin’s gaze.

Jimin’s heart is breaking, pained with the intensity with how much he missed Yoongi.

This was worse than reliving the past- worse in the knowledge of not knowing.

Was he alive? Did he escape? Was he injured? Jimin doesn’t know- and he had no way of knowing.

He was alone.

Again.

He could feel nothing, he could do nothing.

He’s pushed out of the chair and he falls over to the floor in a heap. His mouth bursts with the tangy iron warmth of his own blood, having bit the inside of his cheek too hard. There’s raucous laughter and he feels himself being lifted off of the floor and dragged. When he’s able to concentrate, Jimin finds himself out of the dark wet room and in the hallway again. He tries to fight the grip on his collar but it proves impossible. A searing lash strikes at his feet and he loses balance, his weight pulling at his collar and effectively shutting him up.

It doesn’t last long, he’s dragged down the hallway and into a narrower darker hallway where the smell is worse. Jimin realizes with a start, that he doesn’t notice anything digital or technology based. The doors he’s dragged past are heavy stone doors, layered with wood and or some sediment. The lights are dim and sparse, just a small bulb blinking feebly. He thinks back to the old and rustic Transporters he’d been dragged into, of the crude mechanical structures and weapons. He’s shaken out of his thoughts by a series of noisy clanging and to Jimin’s intense horror, a growling sound.

There’s some shouts, more clanging and a weird buzzing sound followed by a sharp yelp.

For a moment Jimin thinks he’s going to be sent back out into Seulgaan’s ship, but instead he’s pushed into a dark and dank room that reeks of rot. Losing balance, Jimin falls to the ground in a heap, his elbow grazing against coarse and gritty floors.

His head shorn, his body numbed from pain, his skin aflame, Jimin is gasping out his breaths. His vision, though completely dark and his surroundings practically indiscernible in this lighting, blurs and his focus is off. The suit had protected him from the worse and had also functioned in a way where it was slowly righting his bones, twisted muscles, and other smaller injuries. Attempting to at least right himself and put pressure off of his bruised ribs, Jimin rolls over to his front.

A low snarl fills the air.

Freezing, Jimin concentrates with all his might on his hearing. Had he imagined that? What was that? Was it inside this room-

Another growl that’s clearly threatening rumbles out at him and Jimin slowly raises his head.

It takes a while for his eyes to get used to the incredibly dim lighting in the room but he manages to make out a hulking shape in the corner. And with that, a pair of dull white orbs, blinking at him.

Jimin feels like he’s staring straight into the eyes of a wild and dangerous beast. He completely stills himself and raises himself just a little.

They had put him here for an obvious reason. The stench of blood and rot was not accidental either.

Jimin tries to channel calm- even if he wasn’t restored, he could still use basic and common tactics in dealing with wild creatures.

The growl continues and Jimin breathes out slowly. It reeked in here, but he couldn’t allow that to overwhelm him. He couldn’t panic, he couldn’t cry out.

Every single action could trigger an attack, and Jimin is in no way or form prepared to defend himself.

He moves slowly, still crouched but his posture straightening. He didn’t want to appear threatening or dominating- he simply needed to show that he meant no harm, that he was strong, and that he was not a threat.

Is this what they did? Getting rid of their hostages by throwing them into pits with wild creatures? Was this some form of sport? Some sickening form of entertainment?

Jimin doesn’t look away from the glowing eyes as he straightens a little more, kneeling carefully. He ignores the pains of his body, ignores the burning of his skin, ignores the pains of his heart.

There’s a strange sharp buzzing sound and the dark form violently shudders before it scuttles forward.

Jimin backs away, faster than he thought he was capable but he is now standing and quickly he asserts a careful but defensive stance.

‘Stop!’ he commands.

It wasn’t enough to completely subdue the creature but it does stop. And then it weirdly contorts- as though its limbs were expanding and-

Jimin’s breath hitches in his throat.

This was no creature or wild animal.

Tall and emaciated, a living Being stands before him and takes a step closer. In the dim light, a young face appears. Pale and wide eyed, hair in shaggy matted strands fall around his face. He’s foaming in the mouth and the growling sound is coming from him. Jimin can sense anger, blood lust, and something wildly primal reeking from this young Being- but above all of that Jimin can sense fear.

His cheeks are sunken, and Jimin can see how his ribs appear to stick out, visible even through the ratty tunic not unlike what Jimin was wearing. His feet are also bare, nails either broken or entirely gone, or talon-like and filthy. There’s an animalistic wildness to this Being and Jimin cannot tell if he had any actual self-awareness or not.

Jimin concentrates and continues to look straight into his strange orb-like eyes. Jimin knows that you’re not supposed to maintain eye contact with wild creatures and beasts, but this was no wild thing. This was a living Being. And eye-contact was necessary.

To Jimin’s surprise and glimmer of hope, the Being looks away, eyes lowering though he was still growling.

‘Hey there,’ Jimin says softly, crouching down a little to show that he posed no threat, extending his hand out in a loosely held fist. ‘Shhh, it’s okay, I won’t hurt you.’

The young Being stares at his hand, the growl in his throat still present.

‘I won’t hurt you,’ Jimin repeats softly before switching to Standard, hoping his words weren’t too slurred. ‘Safe- not hurt.’

A glimmer of understanding lights up in his eyes and Jimin has hope.

‘Understand?’ he tries carefully.

The Being doesn’t move, staring at Jimin for an unnervingly long time. Then slowly, he nods once.

Relief floods him and Jimin smiles. Then slowly, he lowers himself until he’s sitting down, legs crossed, posture relaxed.

The wild Being scuttles off at the movement, despite being slow and careful. He crouches, head ducking down between his knees as though fearful that Jimin would hurt him.

‘Safe,’ Jimin repeats again, ‘Safe-‘

The young Being turns his back to Jimin and despite the darkness, despite the dirt, Jimin can clearly make out a deep indent running down the spine of the young Being. Blinking a few times, Jimin concentrates harder. He wasn’t seeing things- it wasn’t a trick of light, it wasn’t a scar. It was the exact same dent down Yoongi’s back.

He’s suddenly both alarmed and excited. What did this mean?

Was he also like Yoongi? Did he also wear a uniform once? Or was he more like those eggs- they had talked about the eggs, and had been familiar with it. Was this Being the only one? Or were there more? He needed to get closer.

He ignores how pained the soles of his feet are for the moment, Jimin shuffles forward just a little. He raises a hand and places it over his own chest.

‘Jimin,’ he says, ‘I’m Jimin.’

The young Being is wary again, his posture tense as he looks around at him. But Jimin doesn’t let up; he can’t do much. His previous command, at best, would have only been able to subdue his immediate aggression and fear. But beyond than that it was all up to how he interacted, how he approached this volatile Being.

‘Do you have name?’

The young Being crouches even lower, his stance defensive, but curious. Then he slowly moves forward, slowly making a single round around Jimin. Jimin knows it’s dangerous to expose his back to a potential threat but he remains calm. He stops himself from fidgeting. He appears again and this time he’s much closer.

His eyes aren’t a light colour, Jimin notes, instead they were very reflective and oddly orb like. Almost like nightly creatures. His skin is pale but splotchy, and heavily scarred. Jimin can see lesions and serrations on his skin, many of which were still in the healing process. He winces at the obvious lack of care, of the cruel treatment this young Being has been through. When did he wake up? Was he another of Seulgaan’s eggs? Or was he entirely different? Where did he come from?

He shifts forward until he stops in front of Jimin, his stance now more curious rather than aggressive. Slowly, making his actions obvious, he lifts his hand, palm up.

It’s an intense minute, with Jimin maintaining his calm and cool, waiting patiently to see if this wild Being would attempt to attack him again. His side is numb, and he knows he’s fevered, and there was nothing more he wanted than to take a shower and sleep in his bed. But he was potentially facing his end and he had to do all he could to survive.

To his surprise, the Being lowers his head, and though his eyes are still watching Jimin, his expression changes from complete wariness to curiosity.

Jimin carefully caresses his thick and matted clumpy strands of hair. At this distance Jimin can really smell the stench of dried blood, rotted tissue, and other odors that make his eyes water. But he doesn’t stop or recoil.

His stance eases, his shoulders relaxing just a little. Jimin smiles reassuringly and continues to brush through wiry hair until his shoulders entirely ease up.

‘Name?’ Jimin tries again, gently rubbing behind his ears in a way he hopes is soothing.

Jimin wants to touch his back- to see if it really was like Yoongi’s, or perhaps some terrible form of torture inflicted upon him. But he was going to have to be very careful.

Jimin allows him to step closer and he makes gentle cooing sounds, as you would with wild or terrified animals. He looks even younger up close and Jimin’s heart breaks. So young, so afraid, so ruined.

When his hand reaches up to wrap around Jimin’s wrist, he notes that his fingers appeared stained with red- almost as though permanently tinted with the colour of blood. His touch is much more gentle than Jimin had mentally prepared himself for. He turns his hand over, sniffing at his hand and wrist before placing it over his head again.

Chuckling, Jimin continues to his head.

‘Good?’

Jimin is not expecting a reply.

‘Good.’

His voice is small and gravelly, as though he hasn’t spoken actual words in a long time. This makes Jimin a bit more hopeful.

His hand shoots out again and this time he places Jimin’s hand over the top of his head again, somehow much more purposeful. Jimin wonders if he’s trying to get him to be less gentle when his finger bumps against something that doesn’t feel like clotted blood or dirt. Carefully and gently, Jimin pushes past the matted clumps of hair until he feels and then sees a strange sort of crudely designed plaque. Jimin doesn’t understand what it is, but he’s filled with a rush of anger and sorrow. This was obviously causing him great discomfort and pain, judging by the crusted layers of blood and other secretion layered over. There were bits of hair missing too, ripped out from the roots as though in irritation and Jimin wants nothing more than to give this Being a bath.

‘Does this hurt?’ he asks before adding in Standard, ‘Hurt?’

He receives a nod.

‘I’m sorry,’ Jimin whispers, removing his fingers away and hoping to at least soothe the pain by gently scratching around the swollen area. He’s met with wide eyes that no longer reflect anger or fear. But just complete and utter wonder.

‘Name? Do you have name?’ he tries again before placing his hand over his chest again, ‘Jimin.’

He blinks a few times, eyes closing for a few long seconds as his posture entirely relaxes. His mouth opens a few times, tongue moving as though to form a word he hasn’t uttered in a long while. He does this a few times, swallowing thickly again.

‘Safe,’ Jimin repeats again. ‘I…I am safe.’

Jimin gently scratches behind his ears, hoping to receive an answer.

‘J-J-‘

He’s struggling, swallowing a few times. Jimin waits patiently.

There’s a loud explosion, the vibrations of which pulses through the ground and causes ripples to form on the cracked dirty concrete. They’re thrown to their sides and Jimin lands with a pained cry, his head colliding sharply with the floor, his wounds opening again. He can feel blood, warm and wet oozing out on his fevered skin.

There’s a startling animalistic growl that rips through the air and it’s alarmingly close. Alarm bells ring in Jimin’s mind and he’s sitting up at once despite his heavy disorientation.

Just feet from him, the young Being has regressed again- his stance tense, ready to pounce it would seem, his eyes gleaming dully and his mouth frothing.

It hits Jimin.

The smell of his blood was driving him ravenous.

It made sense now. Why they put him here.

This young Being was obviously starved and tortured. Whatever was screwed onto the back of his head was probably used as a way of controlling him. His hunger and untrained unchecked instincts used against him. His nature was used against him, manipulated, and reshaped into a living recycling machine.

Rather than being scared Jimin is angry.

‘You can stop it,’ Jimin tells him, shifting backwards slowly. ‘I’m not going to hurt you, so you can’t hurt me.’

He’s shaking, clearly trying to control himself. A pained animalistic growl rips out of his throat and he lunges forward. Jimin falls back, scrambling to find any purchase on the dirty floor, to support himself and maintain eye-contact.

There’s a strange buzzing sound and Jimin is able to pinpoint its source. It was coming from the back of his head, where the flat device was embedded. Someone was controlling him, aggravating him with pain to goad him. Jimin extends his hand and he knows it’s a risk but he knows that this Being’s reaction was not created out of his own volition, but used against him.

‘Shhh,’ he smiles. He reaches deep within him, drawing what he could of his own energy, or his calm. ‘Safe. I am safe.’

The shaking worsens- he was clearly controlling himself but at a great strain to his own forced instincts. His body starts to sway, tilting around. Hands curled into fists his growls increase. He thrashes on the floor for a few seconds before he starts hitting his head against the floor.

‘No,- no, don’t do that-‘ Jimin pushes himself up painfully, reaching forward to stop his actions. ‘Don’t do that-‘

‘-stop-‘

Jimin freezes, hand stilling mid-air.

‘Stop-…please.’

Pausing, Jimin hums under his breath. It used to work on everyone- he would hum a little, sing a gentle melody, create quiet tunes. It worked on everyone. It worked on Yoongi.

When his finger brushes down matted hair, he’s met with snapping teeth and a snarl. But Jimin doesn’t back down. He continues to hum, waiting for the dull glow of his eyes to abate. Dizzy and extremely weak, Jimin continues to hum, shuffling even closer. He hums an old tune, one his sister used to hum to him when they were children, trying to figure out who they were, and what they were.

‘Sometimes we don’t get to choose what we become,’ she tells him, already so mature for someone barely past 14 summers. ‘But we always get to choose who we become.’

‘This is not who you are,’ Jimin hums quietly. ‘Whoever is doing this to you is forcing you into something you are not. This is not who you are.’

He collapses, his weight though alarmingly light, sends Jimin landing back on his bottom rather painfully again but he controls his cry of pain. His breath comes out in harsh pants, trembling against Jimin’s shoulder. Wrapping an arm around his still shaking malnourished body, Jimin embraces the wild young thing. He weakens even more, body shuddering rather violently. Jimin is worried that he’s becoming sick when he realizes they were sobs. Gently and slowly, Jimin tilts his head back to get a look of the young Being’s face.

His tears leave clean tracks down his face, creating streaks in the layered grime and dirt. But his eyes are back to normal- no longer glowing in that haunting way, but now clearer than before. His eyes are a warm brown, Jimin notes, and they’re large, sparkling almost with the added tears.

‘Safe,’ Jimin whispers quietly in Standard, his head gently as he smiles. ‘Safe-‘

The buzzing sound increases sharply and Jimin can actually feel the charge of electricity that shocks the poor Being in his hand. And within a fraction of a second, any sense of self-awareness, of consciousness and understanding, is replaced with primal rage and hunger. Jimin is forcefully pushed back, his head smacking on the ground.

The last thing he registers is a crushing pain on the side of his neck.

*

(Author’s Notes)
WELL
I WONDER WHO THAT IS
HA
University is over BTS is having a comeback what a time to be alive
my favorite song is outro-tear it instantly shot up to my top 5 bts songs i am shook i love this album to death 
also i never knew i'd be saying this but wow inkigayo has really good camera work now that i think about hahaha -_- ty camerawork aside wow american media really doesn't seem to grasp or understand the concept that all music is m u s i c  regardless of language, country, etc. a "boy band" doesn't need to have rabid fans as the main reason for their fame, like, have you ever considered that they're famous and beloved because you know, they make good music? because they have relatable songs and lyrics, because they're just a bunch of boys who love what they do and we just happen to love what they do? come on, people, please, this deep rooted xenophobia needs to stop, you don't have to be american to be "reasonably" famous. stop concentrating and making everything about how crazy the fans are and instead focus on why we actually love them and the answer to that is simply their music, thanks. 
and while i love that bts are getting a wide platform to perform and promote their music, i somehow kinda hope they don't go back anymore (unless it's for a grammy nomination nice one yoongi) because the behavior and attitude of the american media was nothing short of disgusting and had me giving them a permanent side-eye the entire time
that being said they all looked amazing, what i could see of their performance was amazing, they actually looked more comfortable and relaxed this time around and the interviews were better than last year *cringes violently* i can't wait for them to get to korea and i can finally see the performance we all deserve

also low key really liked that picture of taylor swift and bts idk why but i feel like sope+TS would make the sassiest, pettiest combination in the world lol

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