Chapter Text
The star maker says it ain't so bad,
The dream maker's gonna make you mad,
The spaceman says everybody look down, it's all in your mind.
—The Killers, "Spaceman"
~
Derek kicked down the metal door, foot numbing with the temporary pain, but he easily shook it off and began to lead the storm into the spaceship's well-guarded basement. His crew behind him consisted of his best friends and crew mates, and it took them no time at all to take down the few vamprik guards.
Derek had led many missions before, and he understood how important it was to detach himself from the sights he was about to see. He braced himself and pushed past the makeshift curtain that almost certainly lead to their goal.
Ever since Derek Hale was old enough to understand words longer than two syllables, he'd lived and worked on his parent's spaceship. His parents—the renowned Talia and Liam Hale—had been in charge of the space trafficking branch of the Intergalactic Space Bureau of Investigations (ISBI) for almost a hundred years (their species lives a long time). Derek's two sisters and his young uncle were also dragged into the fight to stop the growing market of space trafficking, and once Derek was old enough he, too, joined the cause.
Every member of their family was in charge of their own team: his older sister Laura took over the controls of the trafficking ship, his younger sister Cora led the first storm into the ship and took out as many men as possible, his Uncle Peter took the leader to the ISBI's space station, and his parents manned The Alpha, all with overseeing everything and communicating with other ships and the ISBI. They all had a job to do, and they did it quickly and efficiently. Derek liked his job best: while everyone was causing a distraction, him and his team quietly sneaked to where the slaves, prisoners, and victims were being held and helped get them safely aboard The Alpha.
They were the ideal dream team, and it wasn't just because of their familial connection: it was because they were all a race of aliens known as Lycanthropes. They were pretty much what Earthlings described as werewolves, except unlike werewolves, they could not bestow the so-called "bite" on anyone. If you were a Lycanthrope, you were born one. They had enhanced senses of smell, hearing, touch, sight, and taste, and were measurably stronger than most species, especially humans. Their abilities made them almost bred for the job, and they used their advanced features to their advantage.
Trafficking prisons always smelled of the same thing—desperation and despair, and the air was always thick and terrified with sweat and tears. "You're safe, you're safe!" Erica, Isaac, and Boyd began telling the scared victims, crouching by their cages and cots to help them up and get them out. It was dark and crowded there, with more female humans than anything else. However, there were a few Martians and even a Veinetian (from the planet Veinit, not to be confused with a human from Venice). Derek climbed the stairs and met Laura in the main control room of the trafficker's ship.
"How'd it go?" He asked, discreetly checking her over for bodily harm.
"Fine." She checked her nails. "The captain was a sissy. He surrendered the ship and cargo —" she looked pointedly towards Erica, who was leading a young human onto The Alpha— "without a fight."
Derek nodded and was about to tell her how his part of the mission went when a spindly creature made its way out of the supposedly empty captain's chamber. Laura turned and squinted. "Derek, what species is that?"
Derek studied the figure more closely. He didn't know if it was male or female, but whatever it was, it was beautiful. At that moment, it was cowering near some controls, but Derek would guess that standing up and straight, the thing would be as tall as him, if not taller. It would almost look human, except for its too-wide eyes, insanely large mouth, and almost transparently pale skin. There were also many darker brown spots traced along the creature's body, and suddenly Derek remembered what this thing was. "It's a Vleol'olh," he said softly, and it startled at the recognition. If one were to connect all of the brown dots on a Vleol'olh's body, they would create a map of the Galaxy.
"A vleh-hol-oh-eee-wwhol what?" Laura only slightly butchered it.
"A Vleol'olh. They come from the planet Oes. This is seriously so amazing, Laura, there hasn't been a wild Vleol'olh spotted in years."
She wrinkled her nose. "A wild one? You make it sound like they're uncivilized."
Derek shook his head in wonder. "No, they're anything but. It's just that the only contact anyone has had with them in the last few hundred years or so is from their intergalactic broadcasts that every planet is required to have every full circle of their planet. However, every full turn of Earth, which is 24 hours, is what is called a color moon for them. In Earth time, it is six months. We rarely hear from the Vleol'olh's as it is. For every 36 or so broadcasts Earth sends out, they send one."
"Why don't they just send them in more frequent increments?"
"They live too many light years away. The timing for the broadcasts is hard enough as it is with the time gap. Plus, they aren't required to send more, so they don't." Derek crouched so he was on the same level as the frightened Vleol'olh. It cowered further underneath the control panels. "Anyway, it's amazing that we're seeing one in person. Impossible, really. I have no clue how this captain got ahold of one, but I'm surprised that he gave up the ship so easily with this one a part of his cargo." Derek focused his attention on the creature while Laura continued to steer the ship. They were headed towards their usual shipyard, way out in the Freann Galaxy, but it was the most reliable one they knew, plus it was manned by a friend.
Derek inched forward, the creature inched back in response. Derek tried to recall all he could about that particular species, but he didn't know much more than what he had told Laura. Despite not remembering much, he did recall that the species communicated verbally quite often. Derek made hesitant eye contact with it and pointed to himself. "Derek," he told the creature firmly. It looked at him curiously, but did nothing else. He tried again. "Derek," he said with more force, gently thumping a cupped hand on his chest as he said it.
The creature mimicked his hand motion, thumping it on its own chest. Its fingers were as spindly as its limbs, and it was fascinating to watch it move. "Derek," he said again, hoping the creature will at least mimic his voice.
The Vleol'olh made an odd noise in its throat and began clicking and making a whirling noise. Derek watched its tongue flick inside its wide mouth, and the noises became increasingly louder until it finally fell silent. It pounded on its own chest again. "I'll activate my translator," Laura said, messing with her wristwatch.
Derek held up a hand. "Don't bother. You have to have a special translator for the Vleol'olh language. Unfortunately, they're not easy to come by because there hasn't been any need to. Plus, their language is incredibly sacred. They don't share it with anyone outside of the Vleol'hol culture. Their broadcasts are spoken by their ambassador, who knows many alien languages, especially the ones that are easily translated."
Laura looked at the alien kindly. "You just had to make things difficult, didn't you?" She asked softly, hand on her hips. The thing clicked softly at her, peering up curiously. "Do we at least know if it's a boy or a girl?"
Derek cocked his head at it, and it mimicked him. "I...I'm actually not quite sure."
"Well it doesn't look like it has breasts of any sort, so I'm guessing it's a male," she said.
"Actually, you can't tell anything from that. Vleol'olh's have...well, they have two forms. On land, they look like this. All of them have almost the same makeup, if my memory serves me right. But then if you submerge them in water, they...they become different."
"How so?"
"Well. They kind of grow tentacles?"
"What?" Laura asked so loudly that the Vleol'olh flinched.
"They still look mainly like they do now, but their limbs become tentacles and a few more come popping out from their sides, I think. That's where their reproductive organs are."
"Okay, that's kind of gross," Laura said, turning away to get back to the controls. "What do we do with it?"
"Treat it like another victim. We'll find a way to get it back to Oes, they're probably missing it like crazy there." He turned to look at the creature, who was now staring blatantly at Derek. "We'll get you home, and soon," he promised, and the thing blinked and tilted its head at him, daring, almost as if to say "Are you sure, Derek?"
Derek huffed and turned away to keep a lookout for the Freann Galaxy. He snuck a glance at the Vleol'hol and found it staring back, eyes still asking the question. He grunted softly. Yes, he was pretty damn sure.
~
The minute they were docked at Deaton's, Derek and Laura left the ship, Vleol'olh inside, to meet up with the rest of their family. The Hales had used Deaton's shipyard as an in-between house since they began their anti-trafficking campaign. The ships that they took over during rescue raids were turned in for Deaton to sell, and his huge management building was always empty and ready to house the freed victims until the Hales could secure safe passage home to each former prisoner.
Talia approached her two oldest children, Cora and Liam in tow, and embraced them. "I'm so glad you made it alright. Peter sent word to The Alpha that he got the captain to ISBI headquarters just fine. He's on his way now."
"Good," Laura nodded. "I trust everything went fine on your end?"
"A few panicked victims, but nothing out of the ordinary." Liam told his children. "Was it smooth sailing for you two?"
Laura me Derek shared a look. "Well—"
"Hales! Another successful rescue mission, I see?" Deaton appeared seemingly out of nowhere, something he was annoyingly good at. If Derek was being honest, Deaton always kind of got under his skin.
Like most creatures who inhabited the desolate space stations in the galaxy, Deaton was human. He had become friends with the Hales while he was doing research on their planet back when Talia was young, and had learned much about Lycanthropes. He had been a friend of the family ever since.
"Deaton," Talia greeted him warmly. "Yes, and we have many new visitors for you."
"That is wonderful news," the dark-skinned man responded, his smile sincere. "Shall they join us soon?"
"The rest of the crew is getting them prepped for their arrival off of the ship," Talia gestured behind her. "The initial interviews are almost over." Deaton nodded in understanding.
When every victim was brought aboard The Alpha, they were individually asked questioned by Boyd, Erica, and Isaac. It started simple, with their names, ages, species, place of birth, and current address. However, if they did not have a current home, they went through a more intense screening process, in which they were to record simple résumés so that they could be placed in a job during their relocation process. It was all part of the process to get them to rejoin the Galaxy as normal citizens, even after such an awful occurrence. Upon their departure from Deaton's, they were also paired with an optional therapist to help them through their transition. The process worked well for everyone.
Cora looked down at her Telogrameter as it beeped. "They just finished with the last victim, and they're working on moving them now."
"Perfect," Deaton said. "Tell them to use the usual entrance. The only full rooms I have are on the main floor, the rest are for the taking."
Cora typed some things into her screen and then looked back up. "Done."
Just then, the large door to the ship Laura had been manning opened, and out scuttled the Vleol'hol. It was on two legs now instead of its four limbs, but it looked terrified, even more so than it was before. As it sprinted down the sloped platform, it held out its arms, and with a startling second glance Derek realized that it was about to barrel right into him. He quickly opened his arms and the creature flung itself into them, gripping onto Derek like it was a koala. It murmured into Derek's neck, clicking and humming and generally sending tingles up and down Derek's spine.
"My word," Deaton said softly. "Is that a...?"
"A Vleol'hol? Yes, that's what we were trying to tell you guys. It was kept in the Captain's chambers, that's where we found it."
Deaton's lips were pressed in a tight line as he looked at the older Hales. Talia was gripping her husband's forearm, and Liam looked a bit pale. "Oh gods," Talia whispered, barely inaudible. She turned towards the alien, eyes soft. "You poor thing, who knows what he did to you?"
"What do you mean, Mom?" Laura asked. Derek, though, was beginning to feel very sick. The creature, happily oblivious, slid to the ground and began to study the dirt.
"Vleol'hols are considered to be very valuable merchandise. For centuries, it has been seen as a great accomplishment among traffickers to acquire one." She swallowed. "As you know, the trafficked aliens are used for many purposes, such as free labor, other slavery, and sex. We'll need a kit to be sure, but..." She stopped herself for a moment before continuing. "But from the looks of it, this Vleol'hol was subjected to the torture-like practice of drylanding. Vleol'hols, unlike most creatures, have reproductive organs that only appear in their other forms. Drylanding is when someone forces the reproductive organs to appear without the Vleol'hol changing form, and from there they are forcibly raped. It...it's incredibly painful. This poor creature shows many signs of it." She knelt down and attempted to get closer to the alien, but it backed off quickly, clicking and wrapping its arms around Derek's legs.
"It seems very attached to Derek," Deaton observed.
"Dr-ck," the Vleol'hol clicked, using Derek to pull itself into a standing position, but kept clinging to him even once it was standing.
"Derek! Very good!" Derek praised, and the creature hummed contentedly. He looked at his family. "I was trying to get it to recognize my name back in the ship. I remembered that Vleol'hols were very vocal creatures."
"You were correct," Deaton said, obviously impressed. "This one picks up very quickly on language, it seems."
The Vleol'hol, still oblivious to everyone's awe and pity, began tracing its fingertips delicately along Derek's neck and cheeks. Then, without warning, it opened its gaping mouth and licked a long stripe up his neck and face, then giggled happily.
"I believe it just claimed you as its own," Deaton chuckled, obviously enjoying the situation way too much. "You probably shouldn't stray too far from it." Deaton looked deep in thought. "Also, you might want to find out its gender. We can send out a message to Oes, but if we're as specific as we can about it, they might know who's missing. Their kind usually don't stray far from Stargate Galaxy. Someone's probably missing this one."
The creature looked up intelligently at Derek, its big round eyes searching. Derek sighed. "Okay. Laura? Can I have your help?"
"Let's go inside," Deaton led the rest of the Hales to the building. "We can begin to place the victims."
As everyone left, Derek crouched down next to the Vleol'hol. "Derek, boy. Laura girl. Derek, boy. Laura girl." He pointed at himself, then at Laura, hoping the Vleol'hol would understand. He didn't want to violate the creature's trust by putting it in a tank of water and seeing what sex organs appeared.
"D'rick?" It asked, then hummed. "Mmmmmmmmmoi!" The creature said proudly.
"Derek, boy! Good!" Derek nodded enthusiastically. "Now, Laura, girl."
"Grrrrrrr," it gurgled, "lllllllllll."
"Yes! Now you? You, boy or girl?" Derek pointed to the creature.
It clicked multiple times in response, adding in a few hums and one smack of the lips. "Voy!" It announced.
"Boy? You, boy?" Derek asked, hoping the creature knew what it was talking about.
"Vvvvvvvvboy!" It yelled. Or, well. He.
"Good job," Derek praised again. The creature beamed at him. "Now c'mon, let's find you a place to sleep tonight."
~~
The Leader drummed his soft fingers on the side of the control panel, adjusting the scope on the telescope over and over, not really looking for anything in particular. The control center of Mission Base in the center of Oes contained enough telescopes to create a complete survey of the galaxy around their little planet, and Noah was using it to his full advantage. The base seemed much quieter without the usual blabbering of his son, who had gone missing for barely over one color moon. It hurt his hearts and his head to be away from his son for such an extended period of time. Because his son was heir to the throne, he spent many days sitting by his father's side, practicing to be leader. Ever since his son was born they had never been apart. It was hard enough to not have his son beside him: it was harder to not even know where he was.
Shortly after the previous color moon, during a time they called the Pink Awakening, a strange and hostile-looking ship had entered the Stargate Galaxy. It veered towards Oes, and since they were a peaceful people they had little defense against the ship. They had docked without contact, and then invaded the kingdom, which was attached to Mission Base. As Leader, Noah had been flocked by many guards and taken to a secure area. His son, however, had been doing some charity work with the people—something he insisted on doing almost daily—and had been left out in the open for anyone to grab. And grab they had.
His son—heir to the throne—had been the only Vleol'hol taken, which was both a blessing and a curse. Since then, Oes had been sending out messages all over the Galaxy in hopes that someone had seen the Prince of Oes. Noah feared the worst: that his son was either dead or captive on a slave ship, where they collected species like prizes. And the prince of Oes would be the ultimate prize. They would never willingly let him go.
"Leader," someone burst through the room, and Noah turned to see Scott, Stiles's childhood friend and advisor, bursting into the control center. Jordan Parrish, Noah's second-in-command, followed hot on his heels. "We just received word that a male Vleol'hol was found on a slave ship and was brought to the Freann Galaxy a few earth days ago. They are actively searching for who he belongs to." Scott said, eyes wide.
Scott was in the unique position of being the only person on the entire planet of Oes who was not completely Vleol'hol. His father, a rogue Lycanthrope, had been taken captive on a slave ship along with Scott's mother, a well-respected Vleol'hol healer, and they were forced to have sex in front of the crew. She had gotten pregnant, they had escaped, and Scott's father had left. Both she and the baby were welcomed home with open arms, and Scott had been raised as a Vleol'hol, although for the most part he looked the part of a Lycanthrope. Because of his physical distinctions, Scott was the official ambassador of Oes, and he translated all of their broadcasts into English, the official language of the planet Luna (where his dad was from) and most of the rest of the Galaxy. Anyone who didn't speak English could easily translate it.
Noah quickly stood. "Did you send word back?"
Parrish nodded. "Immediately, sir. They should be getting our message within the next turn of the moon."
"Good." Noah felt the most intense relief of his life, knowing his son was found and hopefully in good hands. He sat down, overwhelmed.
"Is that all, sir?" Parrish asked, already backing out of the control room.
"Yes, thank you. Please tell me if you receive any more news."
"Wait." Scott looked between the two of them, frowning. "All due respect, sir, but are we going to do anything else except wait?"
Neither Parrish nor Noah were surprised at Scott's outburst. It would usually be considered rude to question the Leader, but Scott was as close as a son the leader had right alongside Stiles. "What else do you suggest, Scott?"
"Send me to the Freann Galaxy. Please. I, easily the most qualified. I can get there, verify that the Vleol'hol they found is in fact Stiles, and bring him home with me faster than we could send messages back and forth to each other until we come up with means of transportation. I'm easily the most qualified. My mother can take my place as a translator while I'm gone. We couldn't be longer than a color moon , and wouldn't you like to know that the heir—your son—is in capable and friendly hands? Please trust me, sir, I can bring your son home safely."
Noah sighed. Maybe it was because he had known Scott for forever, maybe it was because he was desperate to get his son back, or maybe it was because he just didn't give one shit anymore. He sighed again, sized himself up, and nodded his head towards Scott. "Bring my boy back."