Chapter Text
Starlight trickles in through the slats of the blinds in Hongjoong’s new bedroom. With a soft “shink” noise, they slide up, beaming the full brunt of the starscape’s light into the captain’s quarters. Hongjoong winces as his new alarm system wakes him. He paws clumsily at the bedside table, swatting at the projected display.
A soft, robotic voice kindly informs him: “It is six-hundred hours, captain.”
“Mn… No. Why?” Hongjoong groans, turning over and tangling in his sheets. He hadn’t quite figured out how to adjust his alarm settings. It’s set to military time, aka: waking him up at disgustingly early hours.
There’s a lot of stuff Hongjoong has still yet to really grasp on their new vessel. The place isn’t exactly massive - probably meant to fit about a dozen crew if that. There’s ten rooms for crew (plus the captain’s quarters), a kitchen with a dining room, a sort of common area with a desk, the infirmary and the jail, the cargo hold, an engine room, a safe room, the bridge and - of course - the conveniently placed jail. The layout’s pretty simple. The technical stuff is on the bottom level: jail, infirmary, laundry, cargo hold and engine access. The middle level has the living spaces: bedrooms, bathrooms, living area, kitchen, and the top level is pretty much exclusively the bridge along with some storage closets.
The crew had graciously accepted Joong’s impassioned “dibs” and given him the nice, relatively spacious Captain’s quarters. Unlike the other rooms, it seems like some semblance of personality. Instead of sterile, metallic tones and textures, it’s got warmth. There’s an actual fireplace across from the queen-sized bed (which has an actual, real wooden bedframe). The captain, apparently, gets the privilege to wake up and step onto a warm, plush area rug instead of cold metal. Sure, the luxury is minimal, but it’s there. In truth, it’s probably nicer than anywhere else Hongjoong has ever slept. He almost regrets taking the room for himself. It feels so big and empty - it’s probably almost as big as the apartment he and Yunho grew up in.
However, falling back onto his personal heap of pillows makes those regrets melt away. He rolls around giddily, giggles getting muffled by his fluffy duvet (he didn’t even know the word duvet until Jongho told him what it was). Hongjoong isn’t sure he’ll ever get used to it. Not when he’d spent his entire life on roll out mats and twin bunks. After a few more minutes of nesting in his heap of softness, he sits up in defeat.
He’s not going back to sleep.
Defeated, he makes his way over to the wall-spanning wardrobe. (Seriously, what blackcoat needs a big wardrobe? They have one outfit.) He goes through the motions: stretches a bit, gets dressed (and makes a mental note to somehow get more clothes later), brushes his teeth.
“Hey, Joong,” A crackly voice crops up from a small speaker. Hongjoong’s attention is turned to a tiny screen projecting from next to his mirror. The screen displays a sound wave, along with the caller: “Call From KITCHEN”. It sounds like Yunho can’t sleep, either. If Hongjoong had to guess, nobody can. They’re still a bit wired from their insane escape from KQ.
“What’s up?” Hongjoong answers, his voice animating the displayed wave.
“You up?” Yunho asks (from the kitchen, apparently).
“No, Yunho. I’m not up. You’ve just been answered by a voicemail. Please leave your answer after the-”
“Ha, ha. Very funny. Okay- Well I was gonna ask what you wanna eat for breakfast?”
Ah, breakfast, Hongjoong thinks. A foreign concept to him. He’d usually drink some fortified liquid meal to get by for the beginning of the day. That was before he had six months of GC freeze-dehydrated rations at his disposal. Of course, with the rate they’re all eating them, it might not last half that time.
“Are the others out of bed yet?”
“Wooyoung’s somewhere- I saw him going to the bathroom earlier. I dunno about Jongho.”
“Eh. Dude, I dunno. What do people even eat for breakfast?”
“Soup? A croissant?”
“A what?”
“A croissant- Oh, I learned it earlier, Jongho was telling me about ‘em. It’s a bread.”
“Huh. Sounds fancy. Is it a fancy bread?”
“I guess it’s crescent shaped,” Yunho shrugs (or at least, Hongjoong pictures it).
“Right, well, dude you use your judgment. I’ll be there in a sec, okay? Oh- And don’t eat it all before I get there.”
“I will definitely do one of those things!” Yunho chirps before hanging up with a click.
Hongjoong rolls his eyes. In spite of Yunho’s silliness, Joong smiles. Food? A decent place to sleep? The thought of those simple things makes his heart glow with contentment. Not eager to see his food go missing, Hongjoong finishes sorting himself in front of the mirror and goes to join his new crew.
The sound of chopsticks and spoons clinking against dishes fills the little dining area. Jongho had emerged not long after Hongjoong’s arrival to the kitchen, and Wooyoung sat next to Yunho. The four eat in relative peace, enjoying their spread of soup, rice and fish. It’s savory and salty and oh, so satisfying. Joong doesn’t know if he’s ever started a regular day so full.
“Just once,” Wooyoung chuckles, pointing his chopsticks at Yunho.
“No,” Yunho protests.
“C’mon man, just lemme touch your tail once.”
“Haven’t we gone over this? That’s weird.”
“It’s only weird because you make it weird. I bet he’s touched your tail. Have you touched his tail?” Wooyoung turns to Joong.
“Wh- Hey, don’t bring Hongjoong into this- Joong, you don’t have to answer that.”
Hongjoong laughs with a shrug, “I mean, Yunho and I grew up together. What do you think?”
Wooyoung gasps, “See? See? This is so unfair!”
“Fine!” Yunho throws his hands up, “You touch my tail, I’ll grab your ass, how does that sound?” He asks facetiously.
“Go ahead bro, cop a feel,” Wooyoung shrugs. He even gets up from his chair and bends over, “C’mon, it’s nice and tight.”
“Y’know,” Jongho groans, “Some of us are trying to eat.”
“Wooyoung, put your ass away and stop sexually harassing the pilot,” Hongjoong says, “That’s an order from your captain.”
Wooyoung pouts but complies, huffily sitting back down in his chair, “No fun allowed…” He grumbles before filling his mouth with rice.
“Oh, another thing, Wooyoung. Do you how to adjust the alarm system- like, personal alarms not actual emergency ones.”
“For what?”
“Like for my bedroom? So I stop getting woken up at the asscrack of simulated dawn.”
Wooyoung shakes his head, “Oh, I dunno. Just mess around with the settings, you’ll probably find it eventually.”
“What? But you know, like, everything!”
The other laughs at that, “Wh- No I don’t. I mean- I’ll happily take the compliment.”
“Dude you hacked your way into this damn thing- not to mention the security feeds and lifting all the… Whatever stuff off of the ship.”
“Yeah,” Yunho agrees, “The security in the jail, knowing there’d be a map and a hangar, the ship… How do you know all of this stuff but not how to set alarms?”
Wooyoung sighs and puts down his chopsticks as if in defeat, “Listen, I’m familiar with a lot of blackcoat tech because I… I used to be one.”
“What?!” “What?” You- what ?”
“I mean- sort of. Relax,” Wooyoung holds up a hand. “I wanted to be a soldier for the longest time. Took the fast track in primary school so I could get placed in the accelerated program at the academy. Tested into special ops, too.”
Hongjoong looks at the other dubiously, “And yet… Here you are.”
“Yeah, well,” Wooyoung shrugs, “I wanted to join the GC because I thought that meant I could protect the good people of this universe. Learned the hard way that the only thing the blackcoats are interested in protecting is the status quo.” He frowns.
“Oh, I’m- I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It is what it is. I’d rather be here than deluding myself like Petty Officer Park down in the brig.”
“Oh- Speaking of our esteemed guess,” Jongho’s face lights up with realization of sorts. It takes Hongjoong and the others a second to understand what he’s getting at. They all mumble a collective “oh, yeah” when they do.
“Lemme pull up the security feeds,” Wooyoung says. He strolls over to the little kitchen. On the wall next to the counter is a little computer console. Hongjoong’s not sure what a GC officer would need to look up from the kitchen, but he appreciates the value of convenience if nothing else.
After a few keystrokes, a projected holoscreen floats above the table, on it a security feed with four angles of one cell. There’s not much to see, considering the only resident is one Petty Officer Park Seonghwa.
Hongjoong’s face scrunches with confusion as he watches the petty officer do… Something.
“What the hell is he doing?” Yunho asks the question before he can.
“I dunno,” Wooyoung shrugs.
“Looks like yoga,” Jongho says.
“Like what?” Yunho asks.
“Y’know. Yoga.”
“That… What the hell is ‘yoga’?”
“What do you mean ‘what the hell is yoga’? It’s yoga.”
“No, I don’t know what it is, either,” Hongjoong comments.
Jongho looks at the two in disbelief,“Y’know. Discipline of meditation with, like, poses and breath control and-”
“Nope.” “Never heard of it. Sounds fake.”
The youngest rolls his eyes and shrugs, “Well, it’s used to condition the body. To stay focused and stay in shape.”
“How cute, he’s watching his figure,” Wooyoung adds dryly. “Alright, whose turn is it this morning?”
The four put their hands in the middle and start a round of rock, paper, scissors.
They’d been on course for two nights. On their first night, after the insanity of the chase had settled down, they sat around the table for some serious discussion. They talked about their wants, needs, and goals. A few ground rules were established, and part of that conversation had been their prisoner, Park Seonghwa. They ultimately decided that they didn’t want to kill him (no matter how much of a prick he is). Hongjoong set a guideline: stay away unless necessary. It’s not exactly a hard set rule, but he doesn’t want Petty Officer Prettyboy creeping into anyone’s head with manipulation or riling them up. Of course, part of their decision to not kill him includes feeding him. Two meals a day, they decided, breakfast and dinner.
That means someone has to take it to him, unfortunately.
“Oooh, captain’s it!” “Ha!” “I’m out.” The other three snicker as their round of roshambo comes to a conclusion. Hongjoong scrunches his nose but accepts the duty with grace.
“Alright, alright. Settle down. It’s not that funny,” Joong rolls his eyes as he makes a tray for the prisoner.
“Should I watch in case you punch him in the face again?” Wooyoung jokes.
“Shut up,” Hongjoong scoffs. “Okay, when I’m done delivering this, this better be cleaned up-” He nods to the kitchen table, covered in dishes, “-and Yunho meet me on the bridge. I think we’re about half a day from our next stop.”
“Okay.” “Yes, sir.” “Have fun!” The other three answer.
Hongjoong heaves a sigh as he exits the kitchen, their banter echoing behind him. He does his best to keep the tray level as he descends the steps to the cargo bay and rounds the corner toward the brig. The door slides open with a soft noise as he enters.
“Don’t stop on my account,” Joong says as he approaches the cell. Seonghwa seems to have been in mid-lunge before the other had walked in. He doesn’t give Hongjoong a response - at least not a verbal one. The captain figures the rolled eyes and crossed arms is basically like a “good morning” from the officer.
Hongjoong ignores the other’s pouting and sets the tray onto the ledge of the door. The slot automatically slides open upon detecting the weight, and it pulls the tray through onto the ledge inside before shutting.
“Eat up,” Hongjoong tells the prisoner, tone dripping with sarcasm. Seonghwa takes the tray wearily, and Hongjoong pops a squat right on the floor, sitting cross-legged.
Seonghwa grimaces at him, “What are you doing?”
“Watching you eat,” Hongjoong says. It’s true, he could do it via security feed or even just keep a post by the door to the brig - but that wouldn’t piss Seonghwa off much. And, honestly, Hongjoong feels like it’d be so much more fun to do exactly that.
“Why?” The officer asks dubiously.
“Well, for one, I wanna make sure you’re not gonna try to starve yourself to death out of protest-”
“Ugh,” The platinum blond scoffs, a look of disgust painted plainly on his features.
“-and two , I don’t want you making a shiv out of our dishes.” Hongjoong flashes Seonghwa a saccharine grin just to annoy him a tiny bit more.
“What if your presence inhibits my appetite,” Seonghwa says.
“Then I’d suggest you eat quickly. I’m only here as long as it takes for you to eat that.”
“You know, the other one didn’t stare me down like a creep. I liked him.”
“So sorry, your majesty, looks like I’m your humble servant this morning.”
“Laugh it up now,” Seonghwa says between bites of rice and fish. “Enjoy yourself while you can.”
“Can and will be for a long time, thank you very much,” Hongjoong replies smugly.
Seonghwa lets out a laugh at that, and it unsettles Hongjoong. The last time the guy laughed at him, things sort of escalated. The captain narrows his eyes at the other. It’s sort of a strange, unfamiliar sensation to want to beat someone up so badly. Hongjoong has always been a pretty peaceful guy. Sure, he doesn’t mind roughing people up, but he’d never maliciously harm an innocent person. Defintely not end their life.
Except for Park Seonghwa.
Something about his pristine perfection makes Hongjoong’s skin crawl with discomfort. Petty Officer Prettyboy is so thoroughly perfect, it’s actually infuriating. He reminds Hongjoong of every beautiful, manicured, rich snob who’d ever turned their nose up at him, his family, or his profession before. He’s the absolute embodiment of the GC’s unrealistic standard of ideal beauty. The petty officer is an illustrative example of the ideal Galactic Coalition citizen - so, basically the complete opposite of Hongjoong. It’s the kind of untainted impeccability that almost screams “corrupt me!”. He just wants to see a hair out of place. He wants to watch him lose his irritatingly unshakeable calm. The urge is odd and foreign and almost scary to Hongjoong, so he tries not to think about it while he watches the other eat (taking delicate bites and holding his utensils daintily, of course).
“What time is it?” Seonghwa asks.
Hongjoong glares at the other, “Why does it matter. Have a hot date?”
“I heard some alarms not long ago, and you’ve given me breakfast, so I’m guessing it’s after seven. Am I wrong?”
“You’re a lot of things, but in this case wrong isn’t one of them,” Joong shrugs.
Seonghwa rolls his eyes. He finishes his meal with quiet haste and slides the tray through the door’s slot. Hongjoong does a quick inventory to make extra sure that nothing had gone missing. After counting a set of chopsticks, a plate, a bowl and a spoon, he grabs the tray and starts leaving.
“Next meal will be in like… Ten hours or something,” Joong says when he’s at the doorway.
“I’ll see you soon,” Seonghwa replies.
Hongjoong pauses for a second. What makes him think Joong’ll lose roshambo twice ? It’s not like he exactly wants to see the guy either. He’s cool living without extremely awkward, forced conversations with a blackcoat prettyboy prick.
“I hope you don’t,” Is what Hongjoong says in parting before the door slides shut behind him. “Ugh,” He actually physically, audibly recoils. Just seeing the guy puts him in a bad mood. He hopes they find some remote (but not completely inhospitable) planet to dump him on soon. They figured after getting their bearings a bit, they’d just throw him somewhere with civilization and bolt. They’d all thrown out ideas as to how he’d get thrown. Yunho liked the idea of physically tossing him from the ship before running. Jongho graciously proposed we at least leave him with “like a gun, or some food”. Wooyoung just callously insisted that they hand him a gun with a single shot left and leave him somewhere uninhabited. Joong figured they could hammer out the gory details later. Though, after having the pleasure of dining with Officer Park, he’s starting to hope “later” comes sooner.
“Captain?” The intercom fizzles to life as Joong walks up the steps of the cargo hold. It’s Yunho’s voice.
Hongjoong’s eyes go wide, “Uh, yeah?”
“I think they found us.”
“You think they what-” “Boom!” Suddenly, Hongjoong’s body lurches with the movement of the ship. The tray flies, clattering down the steps loudly as it falls.
“There’s, like, a dozen of them or something,” Yunho says over the intercom.
“Just- Just evade for now!” Joong answers. The ship jostles again, and the captain has to cling to the nearest railing to not go over it himself. “Is Wooyoung there? What happened- I mean, I’m not mad at him, but-”
Wooyoung’s voice pops up on the intercom, “My work was perfect, thanks much. The ship is still a ghost, but…” The click-clack of fingers across a keyboard sounds out across the ship for a few seconds, “It looks like there’s something external doing this. I- I can’t believe it, but it’s like a beacon. A distress signal. Coming from the ship.”
“You think we touched anything weird?”
“No, sir. Any sort of distress signal would have to be made by one of us at a computer.”
Joong combs his thoughts, replaying everything he’d done (or touched) on the ship in the past couple of days. Nothing sticks out as unordinary. Think, he urges himself, think. How the hell would there be a distress beacon coming from inside the ship? It’s definitely not something they’d do on purpose. What kind of a jackass would invite an entire GC fleet to come whoop their asses?
“I’ll see you soon,” Hongjoong mutters to himself.
“What was that, captain?”
“I- I’ll be up soon! I’ve got a hunch that I know exactly who’s responsible for this,” He growls, bounding down the steps so he can confront their pesky prisoner.
He storms into the brig, pure anger along with worry bubbling up in his chest.
“Well that was quick,” Seonghwa says nonchalantly. Smugly. “It’s about time they came. I sent the signal almost two nights ago- oof!”
Hongjoong cuts the other off, reaching into the cell and grabbing the prisoner by the collar. Seonghwa’s body collides with the bars of the cell, and the noise bounces loudly across the metal walls of the jail.
“What the hell did you do?” Hongjoong questions. “How- how the fuck did you send a signal?!”
Seonghwa has the gall to laugh, and he lifts up a wrist, “I’m chipped, idiot.”
Joong lets the prisoner go with a huff, glancing at the other’s wrist in disbelief. He hadn’t noticed it before, but now a tiny little square inside his right wrist glows - probably in response to the rescue team or something.
Shit.
The prisoner doesn’t hesitate to continue gloating, “Of course if you bothered educating yourself- or, really, using your powers of observation, you would know that.”
A vivid rainbow of curse words reels through Hongjoong’s head as he tries to think of a solution. In the meanwhile, the ship constantly shifts and joggles, signalling that whoever’s after them is in hot pursuit. Impulsively, Joong punches in the security code to the cell.
Seonghwa opens his mouth to let out some other quip, but Joong’s rough shove knocks the wind out of him. The captain grabs a fistful of the officer’s flawless platinum blond hair and drags him out of the jail.
“Wh- Ow- ow- ow- what the hell?!” Seongwha gasps as he stumbles alongside the indignant Hongjoong. All the while the ship groans and flinches, no doubt due to their pursuit. The pursuit brought on by the god forsaken officer.
Hongjoong can’t really think. He can hardly even see - there’s so much hot, red anger clouding his vision. It boils his insides and practically bursts out through his skin. He ignores the other’s whines of protest as his feet carry him toward his destination.
“What the- what the- where the hell are you taking me?!” Seonghwa begs the question.
When Joong gets there, the door slides open automatically, and he throws the other in. Seonghwa crashes into the examination table and knocks over supplies as he’s whipped into the infirmary. Hongjoong doesn’t dignify the other with any answers as he frantically searches for what he needs.
The prisoner looks around with a baffled grimace, “Is this the- the infirmary?”
“That chip of yours is gonna be a problem,” Honjoong says. He throws open drawers in a frenzy, spilling gauze and medicine everywhere in his search.
“Don’t you ever cut your losses?” Seonghwa groans, slowly pulling himself onto his feet. “They’ll probably be boarding in ten minutes. Just let it go, and take the punishment you deserve.”
Hongjoong heaves a sigh of relief when the instrument he’d been looking for catches the light: a scalpel.
The captain carefully withdraws the sharp tool, “First of all, I don’t plan on getting boarded or caught- or imprisoned or killed. So, I do need to find a solution to take care of your little remote bitch button. Secondly-” he brandishes the scalpel authoritatively. “-I’m gonna suggest you don’t move around too much. I’m not exactly what you’d call a professional.”
Seonghwa’s face scrunches as he struggles to comprehend the captain’s words. He glances at the scalpel, and the light flickers on. His crystal blue eyes blow wide open, and his mouth falls agape.
He stutters,“You- you wouldn’t dare -”
Hongjoong ignores the rest of his blubbering and lunges toward him. More medical supplies come crashing to the ground as he tackles the prisoner down. The officer tries to wiggle away, but Joong has him pinned under his own body. A struggle ensues between the two as Joong tries to get a secure grip on the other’s glowing wrist.
“I told you,” Joong speaks through gritted teeth, “Just stay still.”
“Like hell I will,” Seonghwa responds, his voice just as strained and angry, “You’re seriously a moron to think you’re gonna come out on top against me!” With that, he grunts with effort and throws Hongjoong off of him. Hongjoong slides against the ground until his body hits the examination table with a soft thud. Pain ripples down his spine from the contact, and he winces.
The officer hoists himself back up using the nearby counter for support, and in spite of everything, he lets out a wry laugh.
“I told you: cut your losses. You’re not gonna wi-”
“Clang!” Hongjoong threw the closest thing he could find which turned out to be a mini defibrillator that’d fallen over. The box hits Seongwha with a noise probably more threatening than the actual force of it. Still, it’s enough of an opening for Joong to get up and tackle the guy again.
He does just that, and the two tangle once again.
“Boom!” “Pew-pew!”
“Shields at sixty-eight percent,” The bridge’s computer informs the three present.
Yunho frowns, veering right to avoid another onslaught of missiles. There’s no buildings to hide behind or towers to weave through in open space, leaving them with few options. (Read: none.)
“Where the hell is Hongjoong?” Wooyoung asks from near the navigation console. The Compass’s projection happens to be in a rare, stable state, and he searches desperately for the appearance of any place they could shake the blackcoats.
“Uh, I’ll try to call him on the intercom,” Jongho volunteers. He’d been pacing since the first warning signs had popped up on their radar, and he decides taking a seat next to Yunho may be the best thing to calm him down a bit. Jongho taps a few keys on the console to phone the captain, “Oh- Looks like he’s in the… Infirmary? H-hey Hongjoong? Captain? What are you-”
“Aaah!” “Clang!” “Clang- Bang!” “Thud!” “Ugh-!” “ Hhg- ” A series of loud, angry noises and shouts blares through the speakers, almost making Jongho jump out of his seat. An abrupt evasive steering maneuver by Yunho makes him actually jump out of his seat seconds later.
“Hong...Joong?” Jongho asks concernedly.
“Y-yeah- aah!” “Thud!” The eldest sounds pained.
The youngest fires back with questions worriedly,“What the hell are you doing?! What’s going on down there? Did you find the source of the signal?”
“Yeah, I- It’s the- his wrist chip pinged them- ugh!” “Claang!!” More sounds of struggle follow - things crashing to the floor and grunts of exertion. Jongho tries to piece together the fragments he’d been given. Wrist chip? Ping? His?
Realization dawns on his face, “Wait- The officer is chipped?”
“ Shit ,” Wooyoung curses from behind him.
“Shields fifty percent.”
“Dammit! It took a whole day for them to regenerate,” Yunho pouts.
Hongjoong’s staticy voice plays into the bridge’s speakers, “Y-Yeah. Don’t worry, though I’ve- I’ve-” “Thud-thud!!” “Bang!” “I’ve got it handle- ahhh!” “Thud.”
Another voice picks up where the other's leaves off, its tone soft and cool, “Your captain is currently unable to come to the phone right now. I’m sure you’ve all noticed how fruitless your efforts are at this point. If you’re religious, I’d recommend you start praying.”
“That’s not good,” Jongho mutters to himself. He speaks into the the intercom, “Joong I’m on my way, just- don’t die.”
The captain’s weak voice trickles out from the speaker,“Don’t worry I’ve got thi- oof!” “Thwak!”
“Click.”
“Shields thirty-five percent.”
“I’m going down there to help him,” Jongho announces, bursting up from his seat.
“Boom!” A laser to the side shoves the ship to the side, almost sending Jongho across the bridge.
“Shields twenty-nine percent.”
“Whoa- Be careful, man! You can’t just be walking around right now,” Yunho barks at the other.
“B-but Hongjoong-”
“Listen,” Wooyoung reasons with the younger one, “If we do get boarded, you’re, like, our last line of defense. We can’t afford you falling down the stairs or something.”
“Shields sub twenty-five percent.”
“He’s right,” Yunho speaks to Jongho though his eyes remain fixed out on the bridge. Slim combat cruisers approach him in a vic formation. He yanks the steering wheel down, just narrowly missing a full-on collision.
“Pew-pew!” “Bang-! Bang!”
“Shields critical. Shields minimum reached, shutting down...”
“Is it- is it turning our shields off?” Jongho cries.
“Bang!!”
Whatever hits them hits them good, and if they’d thought they felt the blows before, they were wrong. The other hits they’d taken were nothing compared to a ballistic laser missile hitting the actual hull of the ship. Jongho’s body is tossed across the bridge’s floor, and Wooyoung just barely stays upright by holding the nav console. Yunho, still the picture of complete focus, puts as much power into the acceleration thrusters as he can.
“We’re gonna get boarded, aren’t we?” Jongho wails in agony, his face contorted with pain.
“Superficial damage to the front-larboard thruster armor,” The ship’s robotic voice announces.
Suddenly, the Compass’s map projection changes. It flickers and stutters, blinking erratically. Wooyoung’s eyes widen, and he smacks it a couple of times until the picture stablizes. This time, however, the starmap looks different. Not far ahead of them, something new appears on the map. The beacon blinks as if beckoning the ship to come.
“Wait- wait!” Wooyoung shouts, his voice shrill with excitement, “I think- I think we’ve got something! Yunho, look at that star over there! That- that big, blue one.”
“Wh- huh?” Yunho’s concentration breaks, and the ship jerks for a second. He follows Wooyoung’s instruction, looking off into the distance. “Oh, yeah, uh- It’s coming up fast. Is it even safe to be near that thing? It looks giant-”
“It’s not a star, it’s actually a planet,” Wooyoung (holding onto anything he can reach to stay upright) paces over to the other pilot’s seat. He punches the coordinates into the PC to bring it up in the database. His shoulders sag with relief, “It’s… Uncharted? It’s got a name. Obor...Reru? Not very catchy… That’s weird. There’s like nothing in GC’s database- but- but according to this it the atmosphere breathable. There’s some… Vague descriptions about the terrain. Foresty. Trees. Lots of water- could be a place we can shake them.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice. Let’s set our course-”
“Bam!!”
“Superficial damage sustained to starboard rear thrusters. Moderate damage sustained to starboard hull.”
“ -fast ,” Yunho finishes the thought. He steers the ship forward, gritting his teeth as they take hits big and small. Jongho barely manages to find something to anchor onto, and Wooyoung’s grip on the console in front of him leaves his knuckles white.
With their forward velocity, the planet comes racing into view, and soon they can see the surface. The atmosphere is much like any Earth’s - translucent with a blue glow. Actually, Yunho realizes, it’s more blue than any earth he’d ever seen. There’s not a speck of pollution apparent in the ozone, and almost the entire surface seems to be, well, blue - primarily covered in water, it seems.
“Warning! Larboard landing stabilizer one damaged! Landing stabilizer one damaged!”
“Sorry ship,” Yunho mutters an apology, “We’re going in.” He opens the planetary entrance HUD on the projected screen and starts punching in commands. Entering an atmosphere isn’t always the smoothest, but with damaged stabilizers and thrusters, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.
“Thud!” “Craash!!”
“No, but seriously, you’re a terrible fighter,” Seonghwa mocks Hongjoong from across the infirmary. The two huff and puff, both exhausted from grappling but too stubborn to throw in the towel.
“Sorry,” Hongjoong responds dryly as he gets up for the umpteenth time, “I guess I don’t get practice picking on people like you guys do.”
Seonghwa rolls his eyes, but the condescending gesture is stunted when Joong rushes toward him again. The two crash down onto the ground and roll around on top of spilled medical supplies and instruments.
“Hey, captain, you still good?” Yunho’s voice suddenly bellows from the intercom.
“Splendid!” Joong calls back with gritted teeth. He winds up a punch for Seongwha, but the officer catches his fist.
“Okay, good, because we’re gonna like, land on a planet now. Also our landing stuff is damaged so, uh… Hold on?”
As if on cue, everything in the infirmary shakes violently. It’s like an earthquake, and anything unsecured that hadn’t been knocked over already rains down onto the ground.
“What?” Seonghwa blurts out in surprise. “Where the hell are we- I- Are you morons? You’re cornering yourself.” He grabs Joong’s wrists in an attempt to throw him off, but the captain isn’t shaken.
Hongjoong knees the other square in the gut, making him scream out in pain. They’re back to square one as he straddles the other, making a move to seize his wrist. The inner workings of the ship wails and groans as it enters the atmosphere. Finally, Hongjoong manages to close his hand around Seonghwa’s wrist, and he carefully lowers his scalpel to the delicate skin.
“No- no!” The prisoner yells. He writhes violently, and along with the shaking of the ship, it’s enough to send Joong for a loop. His hand slips a bit, and in seconds scarlet is running down Seonghwa’s wrist. “Ahh! Y-You stabbed me! You actually stabbed me- ahh!” The officer hollers.
It was a graze - enough to draw blood, but by no means a stab. Honestly, Joong had seen worse accidents from shaving. He would make fun of the other if he could, but it’s not exactly a good time. He’s thrown off of the other (again), and he’s left scrambling back as Seonghwa grabs the nearest sharp object. Of course, he reaches for the bone saw. Why wouldn’t he reach for the bone saw?
His azure eyes are wide with mania as he looms over the other. Luckily, the ship violently joggles again, making the platinum blond teeter and stumble onto the ground. A cocksided grin spans those rosy lips of his, and he snarks as he brandishes the saw:
"Mine's bigger."
“Entering atmosphere of Obureru,” The ship’s calm, robotic tone announces, contrasting deeply with the chaos ensuing within. “Due to superficial to moderate damages to the hull, it is recommended that all passengers be seated and cargo secured.”
Seonghwa stops abruptly, his arm dropping as he blinks in confusion,“W-wait, what did the ship just say?”
Hongjoong doesn’t care to answer. Instead, he scans the immediate area for anything he can use to his advantage. The officer’s got a bone saw and combat training, and Joong’s not confident he can keep up with him much longer. Anything not in a shut drawer or closed cabinet had spilled out onto the floor. The ship’s bumpiness had mixed everything together, making the floor a minefield of bottles, needles and bandages.
Suddenly, it clicks.
Medicine. Needles.
Joong searches frantically looking for syringe or injector with something useful. He has absolutely no idea what a GC ship’s gonna stock, but he prays there’s something he can use.
“No,” Seonghwa utters in the meanwhile, completely distracted. “No, no, no- No you have to tell him to turn back!”
Hongjoong’s hand lands on an auto-injector, and he gets a spark of excitement - but it turns out to just be a painkiller. He rushedly sifts through bottles and injectors and even spray-serums. There’s anti-inflammatories, antibiotics, and even fever reducers. Still, nothing that’ll help.
“Hey, captain,” Yunho’s voice plays on the intercom, “Real quick- if you can hear this and you’re not, like, passed out or something, hold on. We lost the blackcoats, they’re just… Leaving us here. They're actually turning back.”
So the tables have turned?
Hongjoong smiles at that. Even more exciting, he finds something useful. Wrapped handsomely in a red package like a present, there it is. Beneath some technical jargon, the letters spell out words Hongjoong can understand: auto-injecting tranquilizer. He quickly unboxes the thing and hides the pen-looking injector behind his back.
“No, no you need to turn back!” Seonghwa says, panic setting into his voice. He still looks manic, but bloodlust has been replaced with worry.
Joong lets out a wry laugh, “Why? Cause your friends ditched you?” He stands up, taking a step closer to the other. “Listen, I’d be bummed, too if my rescue party ditched me and I was about to get my wrist cut open by some random dude on a starship." He holds onto the examination table to stay upright.
“Now is not the time to be stupid- I’m serious,” Seonghwa insists, and, to his credit, he does look serious. “Think about it. This planet- there is a reason you weren’t followed here.”
“Think about it?” Hongjoong huffs, irritation spiking in his chest, “I’m sorry. We weren’t given the luxury to think about anything before getting ambushed by every combat cruiser in the fucking sector.”
“Why would I lie to you about this? Nobody leaves this planet alive, do you hear me? Nobody-”
“I’ve had enough of you, so I’m gonna ask you nicely one last time: give me your wrist.”
“You may have those other idiots under some kind of spell, but I am not one of your pathetic little crew. You don’t give me orders.”
Hongjoong heaves a sigh and shrugs, “Well, I tried to be nice.” Even though the ship skids haphazardly against the atmosphere, he risks letting go of the exam table. In one swift move he jumps toward Seonghwa and extends the tranquilizer needle as far as he possibly can toward the prisoner.
The platinum blond isn’t fast enough to respond, and soon he finds himself under Hongjoong yet again. Except, this time, he’s not getting up. The injector sticks out of Seonghwa’s shoulder, a soft hissing noise coming out as it empties its contents into the other’s bloodstream. A choked gasp catches in Seonghwa’s throat, and he looks up at Hongjoong in shock.
“Wha… Wha did you-” His eyelids start to fall heavily,“Wha- you do tome?” He slurs.
“Shhh,” Hongjoong hushes the other patronizingly, “It’s just a bit of tranquilizer is all. You’ll sleep it right off.”
“We’re all gon die,” Seonghwa laments hazily.
“Well if you insist , then you go first,” Joong snarks.
“Hate… You…” The dazed blond murmurs before his eyes finally shut. His head falls back onto floor with a soft thud.
“Fucking finally,” Hongjoong lets out a breath of relief. Even though the ship is shaking violently, he concentrates on extracting Seonghwa’s chip. The last thing he needs is for the bastard to put out a distress signal again . With shaky hands, Joong picks up the other wrists. He makes the smallest incision he can manage just above the blinking chip. Using his thumb, he feels under the skin, pushing it out through the incision.
The sight of it makes him squirm, but Seonghwa’s out like a light. Joong almost gags when he sees the little metal hunk sticking out, covered in blood. He squeezes his eyes shut, pushing the rest of it out of the little incision as fast as he can manage.
“Captain?” The intercom clicks to life again, and it’s Yunho, “You alright?”
“Alright is a relative term right now- but I’ve gotten the blackcoat taken care of,” Joong answers. He paws around his surroundings, grabbing the nearest bandage he can find and wrapping the other’s wrist. Just because he doesn’t like the petty officer doesn’t mean he wants him to just bleed everywhere. That's gross (and unsanitary).
“Well good. Try to uh, hold onto something. We’re gonna make a crash landing. There’s a little island that should work.”
“Wait- What did you just say?”
“There’s… A little isl-”
“About a crash landing?”
“Oh, yeah, we’re gonna crash- but like, only sort of. You see half of our landing gear is-” “Bang.” “-sort of damaged. So… Yeah!”
“Click.” He hangs up before Hongjoong can question his crash landing anymore.
“Clang!!”
The ship jerks roughly, and Hongjoong slams into the exam table. Seonghwa rolls across the floor, but he remains dead asleep. It’s almost impressive.
More and more loud noises echo through the hull of the ship. The sound of loud scraping shreds the air, and the caterwaul fills Hongjoong’s ears.
“Thud!”
The ship seems to hit something - something solid, and it (along with everything inside) bounces. Joong murmurs some curses to himself. He clings to one of the support bars of the exam table with one arm. With the other, he reaches out to grab his prisoner. It’s more reflex than a strong desire to keep the other from harm. Anyways, he’s treated the guy for one injury, he doesn’t wanna have to do another.
Their ship skips against whatever surface they’d managed to land on, each bounce along solid ground sending its contents flying. The loud thuds of contact start becoming more frequent, until the sound turns into a more steady, skidding groan. Hongjoong can still feel the force of inertia willing his body back and away from his hold on the table. Clenching his teeth, he strains to hold onto both his anchor and the unconscious human.
“Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud-thud-! Thud-thud-thud-thud-grrrrrrrrrr-!”
Jarring jerks gradually give way to a general grumbling, until finally the vessel emits only a low, rumbling growl. Sweat drops down Hongjoong’s nape as the ship slowly comes down from its entry velocity until, finally, screeching to a jerky stop.
Then, everything’s quiet.
Hongjoong’s arms drop, sore from strain, and he heaves a sigh of relief, practically melting into a puddle from the alleviation.
They did it. Somehow, some way, they made it out alive. Again.
Smoke billows out of one of their freighter’s propulsors, and static crackles dangerously. Hongjoong frowns, looking at the mess they’d made. Flattened trees mark the path they’d crashed from, their bowed trunks going on for kilometers behind the eventual landing site. The second the captain had stepped out, he passed through a wall of humidity and salt. It seems they’d landed somewhere sunny, warm, and wet. Very wet.
Miraculously, nobody had gotten hurt except for the ship. Aside from some sore spots and bruises, everyone had gotten out fine. The interior of the ship had also remained untouched, which meant Officer Park’s cell remained secure as ever. Joong’s grateful for those little things.
Yunho’s the last out of the ship, his tail wagging at the sight of everyone, “Good news!”
Hongjoong’s face lights up - they can really use some good news, “Oh- What is it?”
“This ship’s pretty high end- at least when it comes to its fortification.”
“So? What does that mean?”
“It’s self-repairing- superficial damages of course, but the shields are already regenerating, and the outer armor shells can regenerate as well.”
Hongjoong grins, “Thank god. At least that’s one thing going right.”
“Hey,” Wooyoung who’d been scanning the immediate area walks up behind them, “You dechipped the petty officer. Give yourself credit: that’s two things going right.”
Joong chuckles sheepishly and shakes his head, “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Really?” Jongho adds from his perch on the nearby loading ramp. “Because it sounded like a big deal to me. You were all like ‘ugh’ and he was all like ‘ahh!’ and then you were like ‘hurgh’-” He says, pantomiming the struggle.
“Yeah, well I took care of it, okay? He’ll probably be out for awhile,” Hongjoong glances at their smoldering ship again, “Looks like we all will.”
“Yeah,” Wooyoung turns to the canis, “Yunho how long is this gonna take d’you think?”
“The shields will take a few hours to go back online, then they’ll regenerate slowly. The outer armor only took superficial damage, so according to the computer that’ll just take a few hours.”
“What about our landing gear?”
“That’s the tricky part. Ship can repair some of the outer damage, but the hydraulics would need a manual replacement. She can land again, but it won’t be smooth.”
Jongho pouts, “As long as it’s not a crash landing, I don’t care.”
“So we’ve got a few hours to kill, a ship that’s probably a huge mess, and some parts that need repaired. Does that sound about right?” Hongjoong asks. The others nod.
The captain studies their surroundings. Except for the massive hunk of smoking metal in the middle of knocked over trees, everything looks calm. The gentle crashing of waves echoes into the hot, wet forest they’d crashed into - from how loud it is, Joong guesses that the shore isn’t very far. Hongjoong had never seen so many trees in one place before. They’re all so green, so real. He tries to remember his schooling. Palm trees are easy, he remembers those, but then there’s a bunch of shorter, brushier greens. There’s fern-ish looking things, and tall grasses, too.
Tropical - he remembers. That’s the word for it. They’d landed in a tropical forest.
The sky is blue, bluer than any blue Hongjoong had looked at before. It’s pure and clear to the point of almost seeming glassy. There’s not a single cloud blocking the not one but two small suns from gleaming in full force. The only thing stopping the heat from being completely oppressive is the gentle breeze running through the place.
“Let’s leave our ship to repair for awhile and explore,” Hongjoong decides. “We’ve got plenty of time. I dunno how long days are here, but that sun seems to be almost at the top of the sky. That gives us a good amount of time.”
Jongho hops off of his perch on the ramp and walks toward the group, “D’you think there’s actually anyone here? This place seems deserted.”
“This is the only land for tens of thousands of kilometers,” Yunho responds. “If there’s people, they’re gonna be here.”
“Huh. Maybe that’s why nobody settled here. What if it really is deserted?”
“Nah,” Wooyoung, his lips downturn slightly. “That’s not how the Coalition works. They’ll conquer anything if they can. This was in the database, but aside from rudimentary geographics, it’s uncharted. Technically, it’s an independent planet.”
“A what?” Yunho asks confusedly.
“Y’know - an independent planet. One of the lucky few that’s managed to fight off the GC so many times that the fuckers just gave up and let them be.”
“Oh, right. I- I knew that,” Yunho replies sheepishly. Hongjoong neglects to correct that Yunho, in fact, did not know that. Of course, it’s a wonder he can even read considering that hybrids weren’t allowed to attend schools. Joong just snuck him whatever books and materials he could.
“Well, if it’s independent then there has to be someone here,” Hongjoong remarks. “Someone had to fight them off, right?”
“We’re not gonna find out by standing round,” Jongho declares. He marches off in no direction in particular without warning, and the others scramble to follow him. Wooyoung’s the last to scuttle into line after locking up the ship, and soon they’re off.
Steam floats up from the muggy ground, and the droplets of water cling to every leaf, root, and lichen they can find. Hongjoong’s jaw is dropped open the entire time, and he drinks in the new, exotic terrain. Trees tower over them left and right. Their foliage spreads so wide, it almost smothers the sunlight in its canopy. Little slivers of light trickle through, drawing patterns on the surface below. Occasionally, a burst of flora adds a splash of color - red, orange, and yellow blooms crop up from the ferns and shrubberies below. The faint murmuring of waves filters in, but aside from that, the place is unfathomably quiet. Even the sound of their footsteps crunching leaves below feels muted, muffled.
It truly does appear deserted.
Hongjoong isn’t quite sure how long they hike in silence. Whether it’s due to quiet awe or contemplation, not a single on of them speaks for what feels like close to an hour. Yunho’s the first to break the spell.
“Maybe this place really is deserted,” He mumbles. Even though he hadn’t spoken loudly, his voice echoes. It carries loudly across the entire forest floor - like the tree trunks are tuning forks or something. “Whoa.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, though,” Wooyoung says. “Doesn’t fit GC MO to just leave a place like this untouched.”
“Maybe we killed everyone when we crashed,” Jongho states dryly.
“What? Why would you say that?!” Hongjoong gasps.
“I’m just saying, we can’t count out the possibility.”
“I would’ve smelled dead people,” Yunho mentions. ”I just- I don’t smell anything.”
“What do you mean you don’t smell anything?” Wooyoung asks.
“Like- I mean, it smells wet. Must. Dirt. Salt and water, but no people. Well, except for us. I hear… The waves and our footsteps. Our voices echoing and some waterfalls and little creeks.”
“Shit, it really is deserted, then,” Hongjoong frowns. He heaves a sigh, wondering where to go from here. What to do, what to do, he ponders. He figured he’d find people and ask for help - or at least apologize for wrecking half of their island. The forest is beautiful, but there’s not much they can use. As far as he knows, there’s no useful or valuable resources. He doesn’t even see fruit on any of the trees. Thinking about food gives him an idea, “Wait- there’s an ocean, right?”
“Uh, yeah,” Yuno replies. “Passed over it on the way down. Lots of ocean.”
“Well there’s gotta be fish- fresh fish. We collect water to get salt, and there might be kelp or seaweed. Might as well do something with the time we’ve got. It’s never a bad idea to stock up on food.”
The others exchange inquisitive looks before nodding affirmatively. Just as the collective starts heading back the way they came, Yunho stops abruptly.
“Do you guys hear that?” The humecanis asks, his brows knit in concentration.
“Hear what?” Hongjoong asks.
Wooyoung lifts a hand, “No, no I- I hear it, too it’s like… Humming.” Jongho and Hongjoong trade confused looks before straining to listen themselves.
It’s faint, very, very faint, but it’s there. Just barely distinguishable above the soft crashing of waves there’s a noise. It’s high and almost shrill, like a whistle or - yes - a hum. However, it’s not just a steady drone, the pitch shifts. It’s a melody. A bird? The strange voice echoes softly through the forest, barely there.
“It sounds like a song,” Jongho says. “Okay- Now I’m officially freaked out.”
“What if it’s a person?” Hongjoong asks. “If it’s a person, shouldn’t we follow it?”
Yunho shakes his head, “I dunno if I can say it’s humanoid.”
“If we approach carefully, I think we’ll be fine. Why don’t we check it out?”
“Sounds good to me,” Jongho shrugs.
“Whatever you say, captain,” Yunho agrees.
Hongjoong nods,“Alright, Yunho if you can just lead us- Wooyoung?” His eyes widen, “W-Wooyoung? Guys, where did Wooyoung go?”
Their heads whip around in search of their fourth man. Shock seizes the crew upon realizing that their surroundings include: trees, trees, and more trees. Wooyoung is nowhere to be seen.
Joong tries shouting, “Wooyoung?” The name echoes across the empty forest ominously, and the captain curses,“Son of a bitch.”
“I… ee… l… w… igh… h…”
The faint hum reverberates throughout the forest, and Wooyoung’s feet carry him toward the sound. He’s not sure whether it’s instinct, reflex, or plain stupidity that prompted him to move, but at this point he’s committed. The melody evolves, it deepens into something more concrete than a shrill sound.
It’s a voice, soft and lilting. Wooyoung can’t determine why, but he’s overcome with the desire to find the source of that voice. Even from far away, it captivates him.
“How I… light… ba… ee…”
Sweat beads on Wooyoung’s forehead as he rushes toward that sound. Vague utterances solidify from noises to syllables, then words. In the distance, the human can see a bright light, and the trees grow thin. There, he realizes, in the clearing up ahead, is the source of this melody. The feeling of closeness pushes Wooyoung into a sprint, and he nearly trips over the roots as he races toward that place. He bats away leaves and branches, a sudden, strange desperation closing in around him.
He bounds to the clearing, and when he’s finally there, he freezes. His guts twist, and his heart stops. Out of breath, he watches in awe, paralyzed with captivation. In the middle of the clearing is a pond, and bathing in that pond is the most stunning creature Jung Wooyoung has ever laid eyes on.
For awhile, lucidity only comes to Petty Officer Park Seonghwa in brief spells. He watches life play out before him from behind a thick curtain of drug-induced haze. There’s a brief memory of… Flying? Not quite, he thinks. He was airborne for certain, but tethered to something. He certainly wasn’t in control. Then black. The next thing he can recall is being carried, but that instance is so brief he’s not positive that the memory is real.
All he knows for certain is where he’s woken up: his cell. Seongwha scowls as he takes glances around the painfully familiar surroundings. Same cell. Same cot. Same tiny washroom stall. The space is probably not much bigger than a closet. The officer lets out an indignant puff of breath and crosses his arms.
He sits up in his cot and retraces the day again, trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong. He woke up, that much he recalls. Did a bit of exercise and ate breakfast. Breakfast. Remembering it makes a thorny shiver run down his spine. He’d been delivered his food by the captain of all people. Though Seonghwa prides himself on maintaining his composure, he concedes that the other’s presence somewhat compromises that. (Only somewhat, though.)
After that, things got hectic. The GC collection squad came, but - Seonghwa has no idea how - the fugitives managed to evade. As their pilot did no doubt questionable maneuvers to stay afloat, the captain dragged the PO to the infirmary. It takes a few seconds, but the memory quickly illuminates. He’d been taken to the infirmary to have his chip removed.
Seonghwa gasps, lifting his wrist to look. His soul practically leaves his body upon seeing not a perfectly normal, chipped wrist, but a stringy bandage. Red stains the haphazardly tied thing, and though blood never freaked Hwa out before, the thought of just who’d wrapped the bandage does.
“Oh my god,” He chokes out unintentionally. “Oh my god- oh my god-” He yanks the bandage off, desperately praying that the captain’s attempt at dechipping had been unsuccessful. It wasn’t. On the contrary, the captain was very successful. Just above where there used to live a chip is a slender slit. It’s already started scabbing over, but there’s still the faint trace of rusty red blood.
“H-he mutilated me,” Seongwha says to himself, trauma painted on his face. A wave of needling panic washes over the petty officer, and he braces himself to bear it. He grips the edge of his cot with white knuckles, willing himself to calm down. It takes a minute or two, but eventually he staves off the hysterics.
Park Seongwha wasn’t ever someone a person would describe as violent, belligerent, or vengeful. He likes order, that’s all. Seonghwa has an appreciation for organization and good behavior, it’s part of why he pursued the path of a Coalition officer. He doesn’t like violence, but he’s not highly opposed to using it either. But, god, does “captain” Kim Hongjoong (and his motley crew of bastards) give him savage, brutal urges.
Part of him wants to throw himself against the cell walls in hopes of breaking out, but he knows that’s stupid. He’s not some freak like that Jongho kid. No, Seonghwa thinks to himself. He collects the reddened bandage he’d torn off and starts resecuring it around his wrist. As appealing as fantasies of strangling his captors is, Hwa opts to be more productive.
Assuming they’d been stupid enough to get off of the ship, they’re all dead, anyways. And so, the solitary prisoner resigns himself to calculating. He ponders way to get the hell out of his cell and how to get another beacon going.
Soon, he thinks, I’ll escape.
It’s almost a pity in his eyes. They won’t be alive to see it, and he won’t get to watch the looks on their faces as he finally cuffs them for good.
Too bad.