Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Hongjoong stretches languidly as a yawn rakes over his entire body. He rubs a wrist roughly over his eyes, trying to smear away the sleepiness blurring his vision. One second, he’d been poring over star charts, trying to predict the trajectory of the Compass’s points. Somehow, he’d ended up eating his notes. He’s not sure how. A stray piece of paper sticks to the captain’s cheek as he sits up. He swats at it until the slip detaches, drifting off somewhere toward the floor.

“Urgh…” Hongjoong groans. He eyes the mess of paper on his working table in the captain’s quarters. It’s a blur of pen and paper, dotted lines and scribbled coordinates. None of it is conclusive. None of it goes anywhere. It’s all pure  conjecture, fabricated pieces to a puzzle whose big picture Hongjoong can only guess at. “Comm… Where’s my comm.”

Hongjoong paws at the pile of paper clumsily. More and more papers fly around until finally the glassy screen is unearthed from the mass. The captain squints at the screen as it animates, revealing the time to be early evening. He chuckles a bit to himself. Outside his window, there’s nothing but the vast, open expanse of space. Everything looks the same. It’s nothing but speck after speck of illuminated stardust, flickering and twinkling  a vague, indiscernible distance away. He can’t imagine what kind of chaos they’d find themselves in if time systems weren’t defined. It must’ve been madness making, he thinks. He wonders if the early explorers implemented day and night cycles. They must have, right?

Hongjoong ponders the question as he hoists himself off his chair and out the door. He’s afraid that staying in his room will coax him back to sleep. While he considers himself an exceptional sleeper, he doesn’t want to rock the boat and fuck his cycle up too profoundly. 

They’d been in cruise for about two days now after plotting an economical course with a short warp to one of the Compass’s (apparently many) beacons. Anxiousness and excitement thrum beneath the captain’s skin. They got approximate information from the Coalition database on their destination. It’s a small planet toward the outer reaches of Coalition borders. A new settlement terraformed just decades prior. Like Amagee, the yet unnamed dwarf’s coordinates specify a position in space and on planet.

That has to mean there’s another piece. Hongjoong is sure of it.

Just thinking about slotting another piece into the puzzle - about perhaps illuminating another part of the glitched map - exhilirates him. It gives him goosebumps and makes his heart race. With every fragment they put together, that’s one tiny step closer to the ultimate goal.

Treasure.

What is your Treasure?

God, does Hongjoong want to find out.

He dreams of it. Feverish, hazy mirages that feel so very far away yet graze his fingertips. The fleeting visions never remain. The second Hongjoong’s eyes open, bringing him back to the real world, his dreams vanish. They slip through his fingers like grains of sand, flying away into the wind. Sometimes, he feels as if he knows what the Treasure is, like it’s something not undiscovered but something forgotten. However, no amount of prompting, study, meditation or contemplation gleans any clarity in regards to the engimatic thing.

What is your Treasure?

'My Treasure is my quest' - Hongjoong thinks. At least for now. At least until he discovers what the enigmatic thing really is. The stories always change depending on the culture that tells it. Usually it’s some mass of wealth - a cavern with massive dunes of gold and gems. In the Venusian telling, the Treasure grants ultimate wisdom, omniscience. San recounts his own story of the Captain Dex, one in which the ultimate Treasure is a Herculean weapon capable of wreaking calamitous destruction at the whims of that who wields it. Some tellings describe the Treasure as something else completely, though. Instead of being an object someone can possess, it’s portrayed as an entity, a being that judges and grants gifts only to those who are worthy.

Hongjoong always goes back and forth. Some days, he thinks it’s nothing more than a hiding spot for unimaginable wealth. Other times, he swears it has to be some destructive tool of war or something. Regardless of his thoughts - and the myriad of possibilities - one thing is for certain.

Captain Maddox went to great lengths to hide its true nature.

“Captain,” Jongho’s voice pierces Joong’s wandering thoughts.

The captain, grateful for the distraction, flashes their youngest a smile, “What’s up, Jongho?” 

The other has a few notes of his own. They’re not related to the Compass, though. Jongho volunteered to study up on their next destination for the crew. Hongjoong appreciated it, even though he’s pretty sure the kid volunteered moreso out of boredom than anything else. There’s not a ton to do on the ship, in truth. There’s maintenance tasks and informational databases. The planetary catalogue is by far the most interesting. Save for that it’s all Coalition literature. A lot of instruction manuals and emergency procedures. The first aid handbook is extensive and a surprisingly interesting read. Hongjoong personally likes turning to the “Deescalation Guide” the most. He’s fairly certain it’s not supposed to be read as a comedy, but he can’t help laughing every time he opens it up. Reading what Coalition officers are “recommended” to do versus knowing how they actually act is hilarious in a sort of grim, bitter way.

“Hmm… Not much on this place,” He nods to the projected screen floating above the kitchen table. “It’s brand spanking new. Maybe thirty years settled, if that.”

“Damn,” Joong breathes out, taking a seat across from the other. He watches the scrolling slides of pictures. There’s only three of them. They all appear vague and generic, probably having been taken prior to settlers even arriving. “Finally, somewhere low key.”

“Yeah,” Jongho shrugs. “Should be easy.”

The captain raises his brows incredulously at that. Nothing has been simple for them. Ever. Not once since embarking has anything been straightforward. Half the time they’ve been fighting for their lives and technically speaking they have not left one place of their own volition. They’ve either had to escape for safety or gotten chased away by law enforcement. (Or both.)

“Okay- Look, the sector is like a desert. This place is, like, a baby settlement which means they shouldn’t actually have Coalition presence. It’ll just be periodic patrols,” Jongho elaborates sheepishly.

“Hm,” Hongjoong nods, impressed. Looks like he did his homework. Or maybe he just knows things about how new colonies work and stuff. After twelve years of education, Jongho ought to know a little something about that. Hongjoong imagines it’s enforced in the curriculum - not that he’d know. He dropped out after middle school.

“Captain, there’s something else I wanted to talk about, though,” Jongho says, his voice lower.

Joong’s eyebrows furrow, and he leans in, “What’s up?” It’s not like the other to be secretive. Jongho doesn’t really talk about his feelings. Or much of anything, really. He’s always so phlegmatic and cool. It’s easy to forget that he’d just recently graduated school.

Jongho glances around, as if checking to assure the two are alone. Beyond the kitchen and down the stairs, Wooyoung and San sit snoozing on the couch. Mingi and Yunho are, unsurprisingly, nowhere to be seen. Mingi’s a nap enthusiast, and Yunho is never too far from the Venusian boy. The captain figures the two are together somewhere.

“I think we should, like… Well, I dunno. Our crew is sort of bigger now, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. It’s seven of us, huh?”

Jongho nods, “Yeah. And I mean, well, even though we do have our own spaces, we also share lots of spaces and, y’know, cross paths.”

“Uh-huh?”

“I just think that maybe we should-” Jongho runs a hand through his hair, and his face pinkens sheepishly. “I dunno maybe we should all get together and...”

“We should make time to discuss matters as a group, shouldn’t we?” Hongjoong finishes the other’s thought. Truthfully, the same thing had been on his mind, too. As much as he loathes to admit it, a certain someone’s words have been rattling around in his head for days. No matter how hard he tries, guilt perpetually gnaws at the bottom of his heart. He wants there to be an opportunity for people to directly speak their mind. Maybe everything won’t be solved that way, but it’s a start. Plus, Jongho has a point. Seven people sharing space for extended periods of time is going to bring about issues, no matter how friendly and well intentioned everyone is.

“Yeah,” Jongho chuckles sheepishly. “I dunno, feels kind of dumb to just propose we meet like we’re in some sort of corporation.”

“Eh. There’s seven of us cooped up in here. Sooner or later we’re all gonna drive each other crazy,” Joong shrugs. “Though, I gotta wonder… If you’re coming to me with this now, does that mean that something happen-”

“It’s Mingi and Yunho,” Jongho clenches his fists and slams them on the table. “I mean- I support them and stuff. I’m really happy for them, but they’re disgusting .”

Hongjoong suppresses a snort. Jongho’s expression is serious; brooding and angry. The youngest’s lips are pressed thin into a line of pique and his fists are clutched tight, knuckles straining almost white.

“Uh, yeah, I guess they are pretty affectionate,” Hongjoong tries not to laugh. 

“You don’t understand. I’ve seen things,” Jongho leans in further, voice quieting even more. “I’ve heard things.”

“Uh-”

“I get that your bedroom is on the opposite wing of the floor, and that you have your own bathroom. But, like, you know our showers are communal right?”

“Oh… Oh god-”

“Right?!” Jongho leans forward, his eyes wide and manic. The gaze of a man who’s seen (and apparently heard) entirely too much. “Captain, please. I don’t know how, but it’s already happened so many times. I just want water or need to take a leak then suddenly I walk in on them-”

“Got it!” Hongjoong interjects before getting the gory details. “I’ve- I’ve got it.” He coughs out. “We can definitely, uh, make sure we have group talks and remind people to set boundaries.”

“Thank you,” Jongho heaves a relieved sigh and slumps back into his chair. He pouts his lips, and his gaze wanders over to the two snoozing away on the couch. Hongjoong is glad that Wooyoung and San are getting along. It’s almost jarring how their conversation seemed to flip a switch. Immediately, their relationship got better. It got to a place Joong thought it ought to be (well, almost - not that it’s really any of his business). Whatever walls Wooyoung had built off were promptly torn down, and the two have been menaces ever since. 

“Shit, though,” Jongho breathes out. “At the rate we’re going, everyone’s gonna pair off like the old ark.”

Joong snorts, “Wh- Hey, yeah- no . That is not gonna happen. No offense to you or Yeo.”

“None taken,” Jongho chuckles.

“Oh- Speaking of Yeo, I think we’re pretty close to our destination. I’m gonna grab him. Unless you had any other, uh, concerns.”

“Nah. Mingi and Yunho are gross, that’s it,” Jongho shrugs nonchalantly.

“Noted,” Joong chuckles before leaving the other to his devices. Jongho goes back to scrolling the screen above the table idly. The poor guy looks bored, and Hongjoong makes a mental note to maybe buy some books or something. He’s afraid if they all get bored then they’ll really start driving one another up the wall.

Hongjoong steps past the two on the couch quietly toward the stairs leading down to the lower level. He finds himself smiling at the familiar sight of Yeosang tinkering away in his corner. The other is mumbling something to himself, prodding his mechanical arm with a tiny tool. His utterances echo softly across the otherwise empty loading bay. Joong stands on his tiptoes, trying to get a peek over the other’s shoulders as he approaches.

“Yeosang?” Hongjoong calls from behind the other.

“Wh-?!” Yeosang yelps, swinging around abruptly.

Joong just barely catches the glint of a blade in the light and lurches back right on time. His breath catches in his throat, and his eyes blow open wide, fixed on the knife at his throat.

“Wh- Wh- What the fuck, captain?!” Yeosang squeaks, stumbling back and bumping into his workstation. He coughs, his ears tinting red. “You- You can’t just sneak up on me like that!”

Hongjoong takes a few seconds to calm himself down and assess the situation. He realizes that Yeosang hadn’t been purposefully brandishing a knife at his throat. Well, not exactly. From the cyborg’s left wrist protrudes a blade. It appears to be built in, and tiny seams and junctures give Joong the impression it’s retractable. Or, at least, it’s supposed to be.

“Have you always had that?” Hongjoong asks, eyes fixed on the blade.

“Huh-? Oh, this?” Yeosang’s pupils flit over to the blade. “It’s, um, a work in progress.”

“Oh,” Joong nods. He’s still coming down from the brief spell of fear that’d seized him. In truth, while he’d been afraid for himself initially, now his anxiety is transitioning more toward concern for the other. Why the fuck is Yeosang building himself a wrist knife?

The cyborg has been worrying Hongjoong for days, actually. He’s been off as of late. Jumpy and distant. Hongjoong thought at first it was just his nature. Yeosang has a tendency to throw himself into his work, even if the long hours are to his detriment. He often forgets to eat and Hongjoong honestly doesn’t know when the cyborg finds time to sleep. He wonders: is this the result of Yeo’s unhealthy habits catching up with him? Or is there something more at play?

Hongjoong grimaces as he recalls PO Prettyboy’s words.

“If you’re as fucking kind and caring as they say, then prove it.”

“Yeosang, what’s really going on?” Hongjoong presses gently.

“Nothing is wrong,” Yeosang replies. His tone is cool, but Hongjoong swears he picks up a hint of defensiveness. Maybe it’s just imagined, though. Yeosang isn’t exactly easy to read.

“Yeo, I’m serious,” Hongjoong responds more softly. He steps back to give the other some space. “It’s been like this for a couple of days now… Ever since we got off Amagee, actually. Did something happen-?”

“ Nothing happened,” Yeosang insists with a chuckle. “I just-” His pupils flee Hongjoong’s discerning gaze to focus intently on his wrist blade. Yeo carefully presses a finger to the tip and pushes it back into its hidden hilt bit by bit. “I’ve come to realize that our lifestyle can be a little bit dangerous is all. I want to make sure that I’m prepared.”

Hongjoong frowns. The other does have a point. Having a card up his sleeve could potentially have helped them out in numerous situations. A hidden dagger is something that Wooyoung or San might employ to have an extra layer of security. But Yeosang? That’s not like him. He’s more calculating than that. He’s not the type to pull out a weapon and start slashing at people. At least, Hongjoong didn’t think he was. Guilt and insecurity sting in his chest upon the realization that, maybe, he doesn’t know the cyborg as well as he thinks he does.

Joong doesn’t know what to say. Yeosang provided a pretty infallible case. Hongjoong considers that maybe he’s overthinking things. He doesn’t know what else to do. Forcing Yeosang to open up with threats or harsh words will probably do nothing but make the other recede further into his shell. That’s not what Hongjoong wants, anyway. Hell, it could be nothing. Joong doesn’t know. 

“May I recommend something a little more… Safe than that, then?” Hongjoong posits.

“I- I told you it’s a work in progress,” Yeosang responds, his face flushing even more.

“What if you stab yourself in the face while brushing your teeth or something?! That thing is scary. What about maybe a laser shooter or stun bolts?”

“Oh, really?” Yeo huffs bemusedly. “A gun in my arm? What do you think I am, a comic book character? What kind of a jackass would want a gun in their arm? Integrating ballistics or even photon power into my own body would be a wildly impractical, logicistical nightmare. There’s an entirely independent power source to be considered, physics involved - kickback is a mother fucker - then the matter of ammunition, toggling typical form with barrel functionality, not to mention the implication of that much heat in proximity to my flesh-”

“You’ve tried it before, haven’t you?” Hongjoong smirks.

“Of course I’ve tried it before! Who doesn’t want a gun in their arm!?” Yeosang throws his hands up. The sudden motion prompts his wrist blade to eject, and the two flinch as a result. Their wide-eyed gazes move from the blade to one another, and what had been an attempt at a real conversation devolves into a fit of laughter. 

“Wh-Why’d you come down here, anyway?” Yeosang asks after retracting his blade a second time. It’s nice to see him smiling. Joong realizes he hasn’t seen much of that recently.

“Oh, well, nav says we’re five-mill clicks from the destination. I kinda wanted your input on how we should approach things,” The captain replies, leaning against the workbench.

“Hmm…” Yeo considers the question, lips pressed together in thought momentarily. “That’ll put us there middle of the night, just about. What kinda place is it again? Which one did we choose?”

“The one in the boonies,” Joong reminds him. “Middle of nowhere. Jongho says it’s a new colony. They should only get patrols every so often, so we can lay low.”

“Can we?” Yeosang asks cheekily.

“We better,” Hongjoong says. “New colony means shit will be cheap, too. Maybe we can pawn off some meds or something, get some fresh food. Maybe some more clothes.”

“What, you don’t like my turtleneck?” Yeosang chuckles, nodding to the emerald green sweater Hongjoong had swiped from the other earlier that day.

“I mean, it’s less for my sake and more for Mingi and Yunho’s, really. Everything’s so little on them.”

“Maybe everything’s just big on you,” Yeosang quips.

Hongjoong narrows his eyes menacingly, “You’re lucky you’re my favorite.” He jokes.

“I am?” Yeo pretends to be thrilled, batting his eyelashes and gasping.

“Yeah, just don’t tell Yunho. He’ll be heartbroken.”

The cyborg snorts, “Oh- I don’t know about that. Seems like he’s pretty occupied right now.”

“Oh no, have you been terrorized by them, too?”

“Not to the extent of Jongho, apparently,” Yeosang laughs.

“Ugh. I love Yunho but he’s not exactly discreet.”

“And Mingi…” The cyborg makes a pained expression.

“Yeah, yeah. I told Jongho we’d do something about it. I was thinking about having us meet routinely, anyway. The ship is big and small at the same time. We should have, like, an open forum every so often. Let everyone air their concerns. Go over our agenda for the next week or stop. Iron out collective budget decisions - that sort of thing.”

“Wow, that’s very… Formal of you,” Yeosang says, blinking surprisedly. 

“Wh- Formal?” Heat pricks the captain’s face.  He doesn’t know why, but the other’s comment embarrasses him a bit. “I- I’m not trying to run this ship like some gung-ho military captain or anything…”

“Yeah- I mean, I know,” Yeosang elaborates. “But I dunno it’s very… Captainy.”

“Captainy?” Hongjoong frowns slightly. “Wh-What, was I not captainy before?” He poses the question as sort of a joke, but he’s not completely joking. 

“Well, I mean, you’ve always commanded a sort of respect, and it’s no secret you care, but…” Yeosang chooses his words thoughtfully. “You always seemed captainesque in a sort of roguish, inspirational way. Now it seems like you’re putting thought into it, too. Like you really want to run this ship, not just hunt for Treasure.”

“W-Well I’ve always wanted to- run this ship, I mean,” Hongjoong responds. “I just- I’m learning as I go. And I’m sorry if I’ve failed you in any way because of it.”

“Wh- Hey, I- I didn’t expect an apology or anything like that,” Yeosang shakes his head. “Captain, you haven’t failed anyone.”

'Then why do I feel like I have?' - the words push to the forefront of his mind, very nearly toppling off of his tongue. They don’t, though. He reigns them in.

“Yeah, well, I want to make sure that I never do. Period. And part of that is making sure we make this thing we’ve got going on is sustainable.”

“Captain, if you need any help, you know I’m here.”

“Yeosang, you do more than enough,” Hongjoong reaches out to pat the other on the shoulder, but the cyborg recoils. His body locks up, tense with unnervation. Joong takes pause, confused. He searches the other’s gaze for indication as to why he’d done that, but the other’s blue-green orbs have made their way to the floor. Guilt grips Joong’s heart tightly and drags it down, mixing it with the contents of his stomach.

“Yeosang, did I-” “I’m sorry captain, I-” The two talk over one another. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-” “It’s nothing, I just-”

Hongjoong snaps his mouth shut, waiting for the other to say his piece.

“I’m really tired, actually,” Yeosang mutters. Though his eyes leave the floor, his gaze isn’t steady. It’s jittery, bouncing around between genuine eye contact and darting to random spots in the loading bay. “I’m gonna get some rest before we land.”

“O-Okay,” Hongjoong says softly. He’s not given time to even utter another syllable before the other is striding off toward the stairs.

The captain heaves a heavy sigh when the door shuts behind Yeosang. Joong slumps against the cyborg’s workstation and wrings his hands down his face. 

Yeosang will talk when he wants to talk. If he wants to talk. If there’s even something to talk about. Hongjoong repeats this mantra as he plods up the stairs and back to the kitchen.

Preparation for their landing provides a decent distraction. They can only do so much reconnaisance and planning from above, but Hongjoong plans it to the letter regardless. Anxiety and excitement swirl in his stomach as the hours tick on, and he can barely keep his eyes shut when he retires later at night.

Another piece.

But what will that mean?

Soon, he’ll find out.

Brown, brown, brown.

The newborn transplant has been assigned the moniker Earth FM0198, and it’s about five-hundred times shittier than the pictures suggested. They’d arrived near the outskirts of the new settlement in the wee hours of the simulated morning. Unlike more developed planets, the budding settlement still hadn’t quite earned its star. The bluish halo around it glows with the artificial light of a simulated atmosphere.

ATEEZ approaches at a steady pace, all seven in the bridge, eager to observe their newest landing spot. Hongjoong stands at the center of the pilot’s console, Wooyoung in one chair while Mingi sits in Yunho’s lap in the other. Yeosang and Jongho stand off to either side while San peeks over Wooyoung’s shoulder. San and Mingi watch more eagerly, while the more experienced travelers regard the floating rock with boredom.

Brown.

Earth FM0198 is overwhelmingly brown. There are a few splotches of ocean, and as they begin breaching the atmosphere, swaths of brushy greenery appear here and there. However, the entire planet is mostly covered in brown.

Joong eyes their position on the nav projected onto the bridge’s viewing window. Yunho lowers them smoothly beneath the atmospheric field until a vivid, blue sky appears above. The saturation of the artificial tone is damn near blinding, entirely too much. Bright light shines from behind their position, casting a long shadow in front of the combat freighter’s gleaming hull.

“Looks like we’ll be arriving with the sunrise,” Hongjoong says, eyeing their location relative to the sun and their destination.

Yunho takes them lower, and they cruise comfortably above the surface of a vast continent. Save for the coast in the distance, the vast majority of the landscape appears arid and even craggy. Trees appear small and shrubby, spindly limbs tangled, covered with browned foliage. Occasionally, they pass over a sad looking stream surrounded by muddy banks.

The closer the get, the lower they get - and the more Hongjoong can see. Tiny shrubs and grasses jut out from the rocky, dry land beneath.

“How close are we?” Hongjoong asks his pilot. 

“Not five hundred clicks from the beacon, captain,” Yunho answers, eyes fixed out the window. 

“This is a colony, isn’t it?” Yeosang asks, narrowing his eyes. “Like, there are people. Right?”

“That’s what the database said,” Jongho answers him.

“Well, where are they?” Yeo asks. “I don’t see any signs of civilization at all.”

Joong supresses a snort at that. It just then occurs to him that Yeosang had never been on a real backwater planet. Junking brought Yunho and Hongjoong to a few places like this in the past. To a native of the overcrowded BH guts, this place must be a ghost town in comparison.

“It’s a new colony,” Jongho replies with a shrug. “Anyway, there are signs of life. Look down there.” The youngest points out the window at something. At first Hongjoong doesn’t notice a damn thing. Just dirt, dirt and, oh, more dirt. It reminds him of the junk planets he’s scavenged in the past. However, upon closer inspection, the does notice that some of the dirt looks different.

“Is that a road?” Hongjoong asks.

“I’m pretty sure that’s just the ground,” Yeosang mutters.

“I think it is, actually,” Wooyoung replies, leaning over his console to get a better look. The first mate’s eyes trace the winding road in the dust until they find something in the distance. “Looks like it leads somewhere, too.”

“Wh-” “Are you serious?” “Lemme see!” The ones who’d been hanging back clamor to get a look.

Hongjoong leans forward, squinting to discern the shapes in the dim dawnlight. Initially, all he can find is dirt, trees, shrubs and cacti. Then, little forms begin pronouncing themselves against the horizon. Relatively solid, structured shapes jut out against the landscape of jagged crags and amorphous dust.

“That a town?” The captain quirks an eyebrow with interest.

“Looks like it’s damn close to our beacon, too,” Yunho notes. He starts lowering them and slowing down the ship. “Should we try landing there, captain?”

“I don’t see why not,” Hongjoong replies. “I doubt they’ll have some impressive police force waiting to take us down. And the closest real Coalition hub has got to be a long ass jump away. We’re geologists out on a dig is all. We don’t want any trouble.”

“That’s right,” Wooyoung clicks his tongue and grins. The group had concocted the little farce the night prior just in case. They’re geologists collecting and comparing rock samples from various settlements on behalf of the Academia Hathor. Woo even made up fake documents with the guidance of Mingi. It’s thin - and downright illogical if one actually thinks about it. How could a brand new settlement have ancient artifacts? Sure, some planet cores are formed with recycled materials or nearby asteroids, but the story is still thin. Anyone with too much time on their hands could probably poke a dozen holes in it.

Even so, Joong figures if they can get off of Amagee without a scratch, a baby colony won’t be able to do shit about their presence. Odds are it’d take at least twenty-four to fourty-eight hours for authorities to arrive if they’re alerted. And Hongjoong sure as hell doesn’t plan on staying that long.

“See, Yeosang,” Hongjoong says with a smirk, turning to the cyborg. He makes a grand gesture to the fast approaching cluster of buildings in the distance. “ Civilization .” Yeosang laughs and shakes his head. 

A quiet hum of anticipation fills the bridge, but nobody dares make a word. Nervous, the collective remains hum, as if speaking could tip the scales of their turbulent luck out of their favor.

ATEEZ slows to a courteous crawl, lowering to a modest hover as they reach the outer reaches of the town. At first, there’s nothing but farms. Expanses of sad, barren fields and grazing land sectioned off with decrepit wooden fences. The houses are, shockingly, constructed primarily of wood. Their design is of the simplistic kind Hongjoong always saw in story books chronicling fairy tales of the ancient ages. 

Cottage.

That’s the word, he thinks. Is this what a cottage looks like? The collection of cottages become more dense as they venture inward. The builds are taller - though not significantly so. He’s fairly certain none of them exceed three stories.

“I… Guess there’s no docking lot here, huh,” Yunho mentions.

“Seems like it’s sort of a ‘land where you want’ gig,” Wooyoung responds with a shrug.

“Why don’t we find a clearing or something close to the town center?” Joong proposes. Yunho obliges, lifting up again and taking ATEEZ above the cluster of homes. From the sky, it’s very apparent that there isn’t exactly a town “center”. It’s more a strip of closely packed buildings on either side of a wide dirt road. In the distance, Joong can see the density of the buildings recede yet again, giving way to more rocks and cliffs. It really is a tiny town. It appears that, save for the farms on the outer edge, everything is built off of the main thoroughfare. Miniscule side streets that look more like alleyways branch off from the thoroughfare, leading to a few small structures that Joong assumes to be residential housing. The linear town runs parallel to a short mountain range that stretches beyond the horizon just west of town.

“There,” Hongjoong points to the left. He notices a small clearing just southwest of the main strip, between a farm and a couple of residences.

“Got it,” Yunho obliges the captain’s order. He gently lowers ATEEZ yet again, settling the ship smoothly into place between two clusters of spindly trees with wide canopies. Though ATEEZ’s land is fairly soft, a massive cloud of dust kicks up as the landing gear finally hits the ground.

Hongjoong takes a deep breath.

Another landing.

Another new planet, new place, new people and new set of challenges, certainly.

While daunting, staying on the ship isn’t going to get ATEEZ’s crew any closer to their goal.

“Well, off we go,” Hongjoong says, taking initiative to be the first out of the bridge and down the stairs. The crew eagerly follows him, a cloud of anxious chatter and jitters. 

What’s in store for them?

Hongjoong can only guess as to what could possibly be as he prompts the loading ramp to lower on the PC. When the ramp hits the ground, another little puff of dust kicks up. The crew walks through it fearlessly (though a few cough loudly and hide their faces in their clothing).

Hongjoong glances around, getting their first genuine, on the ground impression of the strange, new Earth FM0198. The captain squints, waving dust out of his face as he leads them toward the buildings just meters in front of them.

“What the fuck is this place?” Yeosang mutters, head whipping around and eyes wide with a combination of shock and curiosity. 

San croaks, “I don’t think I’ve ever been anywhere so- so dusty in my-” He coughs so roughly that his eyes well up with tears. The siren pulls up his folded over turtleneck, assuring that his gills are perfectly covered.

Hongjoong grabs his comm out of his pocket and taps onto the map screen. Yeo programmed in their newest coordinates, and much like before, they’d landed within reasonable walking distance of the destination. If Joong had to guess, their coordinates will lead them just a little beyond town.

The group passes between a few buildings that look like shops and emerge onto the main thoroughfare. Sunlight just barely begins trickling from above the horizon, painting the entire place in soft light. Everything is quiet. Eerily so. Yet the place feels undeniably alive. Are all of the people still asleep? Joong always knew these agricultural settlements to rise fairly early. 

Yet there isn’t a single soul in sight. 

“Is this the civilization you so enthusiastically told me about?” Yeosang snarks.

“Something isn’t right,” Yunho’s words pierce the strange silence enveloping the empty avenue.

“Where is everyone?” San asks timidly.

The captain leads his crew onto the street, head whipping around in wonder. The place is impossibly mum, almost hauntingly so. Even their footsteps on the dirt road sound loud in comparison to the oppressive silence surrounding them. There are no birds singing or even mice skittering about. It’s just them.

But that can’t be right.

A figure flashes in Hongjoong’s eyes - a faltering vision in his peripherals. He turns on his heel and just scarcely catches sight of someone looking at them from a nearby window. A child stares, wide-eyed and silent. Just as quickly as the tiny face had appeared in the pane of glass, it vanishes. Hongjoong blinks confusedly.

“Yunho, what do you hear?” Hongjoong asks, his voice low. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up. They’re being watched. He knows it.

The canis presses his lips together and knits his brows in thought for a moment. He focuses in taking in all of the sounds around him. There aren’t many. There’s them - their breathing, their feet shuffling across the dusty street, nervous swallowing and little gasps. The barely-there breeze jostles trees in the distance and whistles between the wooden buildings.

“I hear wood creaking,” Yunho stills. Everyone halts with him, too. “It’s not just the wind, though. I hear… Footsteps, I think. They’re quiet, though. They’re…” He tilts his head confusedly. “Are they hiding?”

“That’ll be enough from you lot,” A thick, accented voice rings out clear as a bell from behind them. It’s deep and masculine, old sounding as well. A slight rasp in his tone implies that he’s got a smoking habit, too. “Now put your hands in the air where I can see ‘em.” The gruff man orders.

“What authority do you have?” Hongjoong asks, trying to steady his voice in spite of his nerves.

“I’m the sheriff of this town, and if that’s not enough, I also have a twelve gauge slug pointed at your back.”

Hongjoong doesn’t quite understand the man’s jargon, but it sounds like a weapon. Joong swallows nervously and obliges the man.

“Do what he tells you,” He instructs his crew. The captain turns slowly with his hands up. When he’s done his full one-eighty, he can finally match a face to the surly voice that’d stopped them. The man is an older gentleman. His skin is tanned and wrinkled, worn from years UV exposure from the looks of it. He’s husky but not necessarily heavy set. Just big. He’s got a pretty utilitarian getup - a boxy jacket on top of loose, rough looking slacks and boots definitely worn for function and not style. It doesn’t really look like a uniform at all, really. If not for the faded Coalition star on the breast pocket of his canvas jacket, Joong wouldn’t believe the man to be any authority at all.

“State your business,” The sheriff demands gruffly.

“Do visitors normally have to declare official business?” Joong responds frankly.

“We don’t get visitors ‘round these parts,” The man responds. “What we do gets is bandits. And thieves. Don’t think I’ll believe for a second that a bunch of snazzy types like yourselves just felt like droppin’ by. So, once again, I’m gonna give you one more chance: state your business.”

Hongjoong heaves a sigh. Nerves toil in his gut, tossing his stomach up into his throat. The captain remains steadfast in the chararade as he answers.

“Alright, you got me. We’re not here for vacation. The truth is… We’re geologists.”

“Geologists?!” The sheriff guffaws. “Ain’t no diamonds here, gentleman.”

“We’re collecting samples of rocks from various planets across the galaxy for a study,” Hongjoong says. “We’ve got the paperwork and everything. Our university - Academia Hathor - is sponsoring us.”

“Oh, really?” The man asks, narrowing his eyes doubtfully. “And what exactly you come here to study?”

“We’re comparing the fortification, stability and drainage properties of different samples to see which compositions are ideal for the formation of new planets. Also, we want to use the results in order to support another studying experimenting with the insertion of foreign material into already existent cores in order to aid in the security of less-”

“Alright-”

“-stable cores and prevent natural disasteres related to the instability-”

“Alright- I said enough!” The sheriff holds up a hand, and Hongjoong shuts his mouth. He pinches the bridge of his nose for a second before speaking again. “Any of you armed?”

“Nope,” Hongjoong answers for the groups. The others shake their head fervently, content to let their slick captain do the talking. “You can check, too. I promise none of us are armed. Not even a knife.”

“Don’t move,” The sheriff brusquely commands. The crew obliges, a couple even holding their breath so as to not jostle too much. The older gentlemen mutters something about checking. He gives a couple members of the crew a half-assed pat down with his free hand while the other remains secured around the rifle. Apparently satisfied by the quick evaluation, he steps back again.

“You can put your hands down,” He tells them.

Everyone does just that, letting out a collective sigh of relief.

“I believe you,” The sheriff finally says. He looks beside himself and makes a waving motion. Initially Hongjoong doesn’t get it, but as doors and windows begin to open around them, he realizes: it’s a signal. Suddenly, the ghost town begins to animate. Shops open their doors and people walk out onto the street. Low chatter begins to hum across the place. “Closed” signs are flipped over and merchants begin bringing out merchandise to display.

In just minutes, the place transforms completely. It transitions from eerie and quiet to a busy thoroughfare bustling with activity.

“Sorry about all that,” The sheriff says, drawing Joong’s attention away from the town coming to life around him. “Been having trouble with bandits as of late. Can never be too careful. Like I said, people don’t visit these parts. Needless to say, your ship coming along got our attention.”

“O-Oh, sorry,” Hongjoong says sheepishly. “I had no idea. We just, um, used our geological detectors and found some materials we’d like to get samples of. Didn’t think we’d scare you guys. We should be the ones apologizing.”

“Not at all,” The sheriff waves dismissively. His hard shell of authority falls to the wayside. “As a matter of fact, why don’t you let me show you around?” The man regards the crew with a warm smile. It’s charming in a grandfatherly sort of way. Regardless, ATEEZ’s crew has more pressing matters.

“That- That won’t be necessary,” Hongjoong says. “We’re here on grant money, so we shouldn’t be staying too long.”

“Alright, alright. Well if you won’t let me show you the whole strip myself, lemme at least walk you to Bobbi’s place down the way,” He points behind himself.

“Um- Who’s?” Joong squeaks.

“Bobbi’s- Best breakfast in town. Old bat’s a master at making babycakes.”

“Babycakes?” Hongjoong’s face squashes with confusion.

(“Is that a cake made out of babies?” San mutters, horrified.)

“Wh- You don’t know what a babycake is? Shoot- C’mon this way. You’re probably starvin’ after all that travel,” He nods behind himself.

“Oh, no, I really wouldn’t want to impose-”

“Breakfast is on me,” The sheriff says genially.

Breakfast?

On him?

Hongjoong exchanges questioning glances with his crew. San appears wide-eyed and scandalized at the idea of the enigmatic “babycake”. Yunho heard “breakfast” and has been checked out since. Wooyoung shrugs in concession and Yeosang nods. Jongho appears totally indifferent.

“Show us the way,” Hongjoong tells the man.

The sheriff happily waves them over, walking them down the thoroughfare. The crowd parts as ATEEZ walks down the road, and Joong can’t help but overhear the whispers and catch the sideways glances. He supposes he oughtn’t be very surprised. This place doesn’t get lots of visitors, after all. He tries not to be too bothered by the people talking, more curious about what the hell a “babycake is” than anything.

A babycake, so it turns out, is a puffy sort of pancake. It’s cooked in a heavy skillet and served with fruit and sugar. The crew devours their cakes eagerly (After explaining to San that humans do not eat their own kind no matter how direly inhospitable to crops their climates).

The town they’d ended up in calls itself Tass. It’s a mass of small wooden buildings “risen by our own hand” as many of the locals proudly tell them. The main strip is a collection of shops, businesses, and other agencies. What they have is basic but covers basic needs. There’s a tailor across from Bobbi’s, one of three restaurants along the strip. There are a couple of saloons, a doctor’s office, a bank, a feed and supply shop and, of course, a few specialized grocers. There’s one of everything, and all the people know one another, it seems. Tass is practically a storybook village with how provincial and idyllic it appears.

And, for the first time since their hellish escape from the KQ jail, ATEEZ’s crew finds themselves recieving a warm reception.

The people of Tass are genuinely friendly. Perhaps a bit on the meddling side, but above all else they’re curious. At least a dozen people interrupted their meal asking them where they’d come from, why they’d come to Tass, what they think of it, and how long they’re gonna stay. A child no older than four informed Yunho that he had a tail, to which the canis responded with a “Thanks, I was wondering what kept tickling my back!”. Their server twirled her hair and rambled about how one day she wants to see the stars, too. (She also “accidentally” gave Wooyoung a babycake with a noticeable heap of extra fruit.) 

Nobody is out to kill them, maim them, or scam them.

Yes, heads are turning, but probably because the sight of visitors like themselves is rare.

Hongjoong tries to drop hints about the story of the Compass, offhandedly mentioning it to one of the townspeople who’d come by to ask about their travels. A few people have heard the story of the Captain and his Compass, but they all regard it as legend. As they’re leaving Bobbi’s, one of the locals tells them that “the mayor might know a little bit more about the land”. Joong wonders if the man might know anything about buried artifacts.

“-you won’t be able to miss it,” The woman who’d tipped Joong off about the mayor says.

“Thanks, much,” Hongjoong replies with a grateful smile. “I appreciate it.”

“You’re very welcome. Tell Mayor Jonessen that Brie from Bobbi’s sent you,” The woman says with a grin.

“I will, Ms. Brie, thank you,” Joong waves politely before leaving through the creaky door of Bobbi’s. When the crew steps out, the faux sun’s no longer creeping up from the horizon. It beams down relentlessly. Though it’s just barely begun its ascent, it already feels entirely too hot for such an early hour in the morning. Sweat begins beading at the captain’s nape as he strolls out onto the street.

Glancing over his shoulder, he does a quick head count. One, two, three, four…

“Where’s Woo?” Hongjoong asks, pursing his lips.

“Uh-” “Oh, I didn’t notice he was-” “Um…” A few heads turn to check. Joong’s gaze shifts ever so briefly to the siren. San frowns but doesn’t make any sort of snide comment. Good. 

As if summoned, Wooyoung finally emerges from the restaurant, a dumb grin on his face.

“D’you have to tie your boots?” Hongjoong asks sarcastically.

“Don’t give me that look,” Wooyoung smirks. He slings an arm around San’s shoulder and walks forward with the other. “I was gathering intel.”

“Oh?” Hongjoong’s brows raise curiously. He wasn’t aware they needed intel. The captain nods in the direction of the mayor’s place. His house is apparently northeast of town “twenty minutes by foot” according to Ms. Brie. Hongjoong finds it quaint that they describe distance with time, but he didn’t want to tell the woman to her face since it seemed patronizing. It makes sense to track things by distance on foot given that the only “vehicles” Joong has actually spotted is horses. “Let’s walk and talk.” 

ATEEZ’s crew makes their way down the wide, dusty road as people go about their days. More than a few sets of eyes unsubtly turn their way.

“Notice how nice everyone is?” Wooyoung leans close to Hongjoong and murmurs as they walk along in a tight knit clique. Yunho’s on one side of the captain while Woo and San are on the other. Jongho, Mingi and Yeo trail close behind. 

“Yeah. They definitely display that small town hospitality,” The captain observes.

“Well, they’ve also got an agenda,” Woo replies.

“Don’t tell me they want us to stay,” Joong snickers. The point of a colony is to grow, after all.

“Not quite,” Wooyoung says. “Turns out Earth FM0198 is due for its decade evaluation.”

“Oh shit. So, what, do they think we’re secret shoppers or something?” Joong asks.

Woo shrugs, “I mean, it’s pretty sus, isn’t it? A bunch of ‘geologists’ just happen to swing by in a ship model that’s techinically only for Coalition? Right as their evaluation is around the corner? All I know is that Tass is trying to be on their best behavior right now.”

“U-Um, excuse me,” San pipes up from next to the first mate. “What do you mean ‘best behavior’? I’m confused.”

“Yeah, uh, what’re you talking about?” Yunho adds, cheeks tinting slightly from embarrassment.

“Well, they gotta be good for their evaluation,” Wooyoung answers. He’s met with two very lost looks.

Hongjoong decides to pick up the slack and explain, “Okay, let’s back up here. I know neither of you really have the basic knowhow of Coalition stuff, but, basically, it goes like this: Coalition colonies start with a terraformed planet. Right?”

The siren and humecanis nod affirmatively.

Joong continues, “Once a planet is deemed suitable for human settlers, they start opening it up to potential colonizers. The Coalition will put up the new planet along with settlement sites and info about the place. They really sell that shit to get suckers to develop planets for them, y’know. Make it out to be all idyllic or to be a thing of pride.” The captain shrugs. “Usually they draw in older folks or hippies disenchanted with modern living. Sometimes extremist groups buy out settlements so they can have a homogenous society.” Hongjoong grimaces at the thought. On one hand, he’s glad crazy people like that are confined to isolated planets. On the other, the idea that people would pay to live on a planet without conflicting ideologies is mildly disheartening to him.

“Anyway,” Hongjoong says, “The state of the planets and how many are allowed in the first batch of settlers varies. Sometimes it’s tens of thousands, sometimes it’s hundreds of thousands. It can even be less than that. I dunno how they figure that shit out, it’s all Coalition bureaucracy bullshit. Once the settlers are screened and admitted, they take some, like courses and are given a date to set off.

“The Coalition gives them some starter shit - basic tools for building infrastructure and agriculture. But that’s about it. They’re not granted all the luxuries of high technology right off the gate. Basically, the Coalition forces their settlers to rough it. Like I said, they spin it to be some glorious, noble undertaking. Emphasize ‘living off of the land’ and ‘doing what our ancestors did’ or some country ass shit. I’m pretty sure they’re just cheap and don’t feel like paying for infrastructure right out the gate.”

“Then how do they get advanced things?” San asks, tilting his head curiously. “Must they develop and invent it on their own?”

“Oh, god no,” Joong laughs. “I can’t imagine what it’d be like if every single planet had to build from the ground up. That’d be a nightmare for the Coalition. Everything would be all different and un-uniform,” He laughs. “No. What they do is their decade evaluation. Every ten years, a colony is evaluated by a Coalition agent, and if they pass they’re given a fatter line of credit and more tech. Thing is, whether they pass or not is totally up to the whims of the evaluator. In theory, they’re supposed to be ‘objective’ and have a list of certain criteria.” Hongjoong laughs wryly.

Wooyoung remarks, “Obviously, the Coalition doesn’t operate as they should, though. There’s tons of stories of briberies, and people even say that they reject colonies that don’t align with Coalition values. If you don’t fall in line with what the evaluator wants, you have to wait another ten years for your shot at better infrastructure and, of course, more money. Of course, evaluators got wise to them kissing ass, so they send people undercover to check on how the colonies are really doing. And that is why everyone is extra ass-kissy.”

“Hm.” “Oh.” The two respond with nods. 

“So,” Yunho asks, directing himself more toward the captain, “What’re we gonna tell this guy, anyway? That we’re geologists who just happen to be interested in the Compass?”

“Yeah, why not?” Joong shrugs. “If people have it in their heads we’re evaluators, they’ll believe what they want to.”

“This place is brand new, though,” Yunho says. “It really doesn’t make any sense that a piece of an ancient device ended up here.”

“Nothing about the Compass makes sense,” Hongjoong replies. “If it lead us here, it’s for good reason, and we’re gonna find out why.”

“Hopefully nobody tries to kill us this time,” Woo adds with a chuckle.

The captain grins, “Yeah, well, I’ve got a good feeling about this one.”

The group of seven march onward, taking in the strange, new sights. Horses draw hovercarts down the dusty street. Junky looking robots carry out simple tasks - sweeping dust off of the wooden porches of storefronts and carrying crates into businesses. Hongjoong imagines everything has to be hard-programmed as opposed to being learned by AI itself. It’s always fascinating to him, how vastly different others live. Landing on a new transplant is like landing in a time capsule, going back centuries - maybe even a millenium. 

All the while, the people whisper and stare. To them, ATEEZ’s crew is the strange sight. Joong’s pretty sure if it wasn’t for the almost compulsory manners of the people, they’d be prodding more. People seem particularly fascinated by Yunho and Yeosang. Someone back at the restaurant caught sight of Yeo’s mechanical hand and outright stared. If the cyborg noticed, he didn’t acknowledge it. Even without the exotic appendages, their clothing and piercings sure as hell would set them apart. The only jewelry Hongjoong sees anyone wear are simplistic wedding rings.

The dress of Tass’s people is similar to that of the sheriff: utilitarian and plain. Women wear skirts with hems that graze the dirty ground, and all of the pants in sight are loose. All of the colors are desaturated. They sort of match the landscape - rough muslins, linens, cottons and canvases dyed brown, sage green, robin’s egg blue, slate gray and brown. Long hair is worn up, tied back into tight plaits. Otherwise, the style seems to be cropped short. Lots of people favor tucking their hair into a hat, and Joong can’t blame them. It’s hot as hell even though the day’s barely started. Sunlight distorts the view down the road, smearing distant houses and pedestrians into a blur.

Soon, they meld into the mirages, too, as town disappears at their back and they approach the outer edges of the strip. In the distance, Hongjoong finally sees it. Brilliant white in the distance, concealed just barely by raggedy trees. The mayor’s estate. The grand house juts out of the horizon like a row of perfectly white teeth above chapped lips.

“O-Oh, thank you,” Hongjoong mutters, graciously taking the teacup and saucer extended to him.

He hopes the maid doesn’t think it inappropriate of him to stare at everything. To say the mayor’s estate is different is an understatement, to say the least. Tass’s main strip is dry, dusty, utilitarian. It’s tones of wood and ashen grays speckled with the occasional, brave outcropping of brushy grass.

When ATEEZ reached the outside of the mayor’s estate, their jaws dropped with shock. His property is sectioned off by an iron gate, and beyond it is a brich drive surrounded by lush, green grass. Half a dozen columns hold up the white behemoth of a house, creating a wide portico that appears to wrap around the entire manor. Polished windows framed with black shutters shine, reflecting the trees lining the drive like a mirror. Hongjoong had never seen anything like it in his life. All he knew was that it undeniably spoke to wealth.

ATEEZ’s crew walked through the open gate and was met with kind courtesy at the door by a maid. She looked like something out of a period piece in the griege uniform. She even had a matching cap. The woman escorted them through a long hallway flooded with natural light and invited them to sit in a parlor filled with warm wooden furniture and entirely too many patterns. He sat down on an uncomfortable couch, and she returned with an ornate, flowery silver hovercart minutes later.

The kindly humefeli curtseys shallowly before grabbing another cup and handing it to Yunho. The canis, subtle as ever, stares with wide eyes and his lips stretched into a thin line. There’s an obvious awkwardness. Joong can practically feel the discomfort radiating off of him like a thick cloud of fog. He always gets antsy whenever he sees people like him in roles like this. His head goes places, wonders how they got there. Wonders if they’re there of their own will. Hell, with how damn new Earth FM0198 is, Joong can’t help wondering, too. He tries to toss out the creeping paranoia, though. It’s hardly his place to conjecture about a stranger’s life, and he doesn’t want to assume the worst.

“Everyone here is so nice,” Yeosang comments when the maid leaves. He very clearly does so more out of want to break the weird silence than care for actual conversation. “I’m starting to get suspicious.”

“They probably think we’re secretly Coalition,” Wooyoung says with a shrug.

“Perhaps they’re simply welcoming by nature,” San adds. 

“Nobody is that welcoming,” Yeosang responds skeptically. “And why do they keep asking us about our lives? It’s weird.”

“Maybe they’re curious,” Jongho chuckles. “Doesn’t seem like they even have access to an interstellar satnet out here. Hell, not sure they even have a planetary network.”

“My home never had contact with the outside world, but we’re far less hospitable even to other sirens,” San comments. “Well, especially to other sirens, really. The territories of control are frequently in flux…”

“They’re harmless,” Joong says. He lowers his voice, “Even if they could do harm, we’re gonna be gone before anything can happen. Shit, I doubt they even have proper weapons.”

“Yunho, how come her tail looks different than yours?” Mingi’s voice pipes up.

Yunho’s cheeks flush and he sighs, “Well, she’s a humefeli.”

“A hume-what?”

“She’s, like, a different hybrid.”

“There are others like you!?”

“Wh- Felis are totally different!” Yunho spits back, flustered.

“Oh-” Wooyoung butts into their conversation. “He’s totally right, you know. They’ve got barbed tongues.”

Mingi gasps,“Their tongues are what?”

Woo nods, “Yeah. Never let one go down on you. Unless you’re, like, into that.”

“Wh- Wooyoung!” Hongjoong scolds the first mate. “What if someone hears you?!”

“Where is who going?” San’s face scrunches with puzzlement.

“Nobody is going anywhere,” Joong says through gritted teeth.

“I’m just saying-” Yeo’s voice crops up from his chair beside Jongho’s, “-where I come from, people mind their own business.”

Jongho responds flatly, “Where you come from there are periodic cullings, scammers, thugs and pickpockets.”

“...Maybe so,” Yeosang answers, his ears tinting pink.

“-is it like a catfish?” San asks Wooyoung who, apparently, had been explaining cats to the siren. The two sit in chairs across from the ones where Yeo and Jongho sit.

“Well… They have whiskers, but, um, they’re completely different save for that,” Wooyoung mutters.

“No,” Yunho laughs wryly. “It’s not the same, though.”

“But if you all have tails, I don’t understand the distinction…”

“Barbed tongues!” Woo shouts across the room again.

“Guys, can we, like, cool it on the inappropriate conversation?” Hongjoong tries to calm everyone down. He feels like enough of a jackass as is. Out of nowhere, they showed up at the mayor’s beautiful estate in ill-fitting clothes asking for an impromptu appointment. They were graciously recieved when the estate was by no means obliged. Now, they’re making a scene inside the mayor’s nice ass parlor. Their voices are so loud, Hongjoong’s ears start to ring.

“Yunho, you don’t have a barbed tongue, do you?” “That’s what I’m trying to tell y-” “I just don’t like it when people are that nice. It bothers me.” “You don’t like nice people?” “I would like to meet a cat one day, I think.” “They’re pretty cute-” “No, I don’t like ‘nice’ people because they’re not really nice.” “Because we’re different, Mingi. That’s like me asking you why you don’t have gills.” “Yeo, that sounds kinda sad.” “It’s not sad!” “They go like, purrrrrrr-” “Do you think the captain would let us get a pet?”

Joong tries again, “Guys-”

“Why would I have gills?” “I’m just saying like San-” “Doubt he would, but that’d be awesome, actually…” “-because it’s not real, Jongho! None of it is real!” “Holy- Shit you are cynical-” “San has gills?” “Wh- Y-Yes… Mingi, what did you think those things on his neck are?” “-m more of a puppy person, though…”

“Guys!” Hongjoong bursts up and barks loudly. The sudden movement makes him spill his tea, and hot liquid splashes all over his torso. “Ffffffffuuuuuck-!” Joong hisses as steam comes off his jacket. In a pained panic, Joong rips off his outerlayer and throws it across the room, face contorted with burning pain. The sudden motion hikes his up his torso, and that’s when the maid has the good fortune to return with a hovertray of tea sandwiches.

Hongjoong’s eyes go wide and his mouth drops open in horror. While everyone else had been shouting conversations like damn savages, of course it’s him who’s put in the compromising position of looking like a stripper with his hair mussed and chest out.

“I, uh, spilled tea,” The captain coughs out sheepishly. Embarrassment sears his face, burning his cheeks and ears. He presses his lips together tight as he slowly lowers himself back onto the couch. He finds his jacket draped over the corner of the coffee table. As if cued by his gaze, the garment falls to the ground a second later. “I, um, it all got on my jacket, I think. Nothing on the upholstery…”

The maid simply smiles, “Oh, that’s no problem at all. May I see your jacket?”

“Oh, yeah. Lemme just-” Hongjoong answers. He gets up to grab it, but the maid is swift. She plucks it off the ground before Joong can reach.

“It doesn’t look too bad at all. I’ll have this back to you in a few minutes,” She says. “I just wanted to drop these off. Fresh from the kitchen.” She gracefully transfers the tiered display dishes onto the coffee table.

“You- You’ll what-?”

“Now, we’ve got cucumber sandwiches, strawberry sandwiches, fig rolls, mince nut tartlets, smoked pate on toast. Can I get you anything else?”

“Uh-” Joong grunts. The others exchange wide-eyed gazes before shrugging and shaking their heads.

“Very well, then. The mayor’ll be in soon. I’ll be right back.” With that, the woman excuses herself again. Another spell of silence falls over the group in her wake. It’s strange, being waited on. The only one used to it is Mingi, no doubt.

“She’s gonna give that back, right?” Yunho asks.

“Captain,” Yeosang says. “Pull your shirt down.”

“Wh- Oh,” Joong croaks. He never realized he didn’t actually pull his shirt down. He’d just given the poor maid a gratuitous view of pale chest and stomach. “Oh god.”

“Don’t worry,” Jongho snarks. “We all enjoyed the show.”

Joong rolls his eyes and combs his hands through his hair. The conversation that ensues following is quieter, at the very least. Though Hongjoong can’t assure the subject matter is entirely appropriate, he’s happy to see his crew getting along.

The next time their chatter is interrupted, it’s by an older gentleman in the doorway. Hongjoong stands, prompting the others to do so, and greets the man. 

“Hello,” Hongjoong says. He’s not sure if it’s customary to bow to mayors, but for some reason he feels inclined to do it. Maybe it’s the man’s appearance. Compared to everyone else he’d met so far the man is, as Yunho might put it, “shiny”. His white suit is pressed perfectly. As dusty as Tass is, the crisp linen appears completely unmarred by the floating specks of dirt that plague the place. He’s got eyes bluer than the projected sky up above, and they look striking in contrast with his sun-worn skin. He’s tall, and if it wasn’t for the genial smile on his face he’d probably be insanely intimidating.

“Well how do you all do? Erik Jonessen, Mayor of this fine settlement,” The man extends a hand. Hongjoong takes it, returning with a firm shake and a nod. “I take it you are Captain Kim Joohong- did I pronounce that right?”

“You did,” Joong chuckles, hoping he doesn’t sound as nervous as he suddenly feels. At this point, the captain thinks it’s a thing about figures of authorities. Government officials just make him antsy now - even if they’re friendly old men from the middle of nowhere, apparently.

“And this must be your fine crew of geologists. Much obliged,” Mayor Jonessen gives them a nod. “Please, now don’t be standing up on my accord. I’m just a man like everyone else. Take a seat, take a seat.” He waves to the crew, urging them to sit down. Just a man with a massive mansion who runs a town, Joong muses. They crew obliges the man’s prompting, and the Mayor finds an empty chair next to the couch Hongjoong had been sitting on.

“Now, to what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Kim?” Jonessen asks. He clasps his hands and smiles, waiting. Much like the sheriff, the older gentleman comes across as disarming in a way that jubilant, genial men can occasionally be.

“Well, there’s a few things I wanted to get discuss with you, face to face,” Hongjoong starts. He casts his anxieties aside and commits fully to their farce yet again. He can tell from the town and the people that they’re simple people. They value simplicity, forthrightness, directness. They’re a no-nonsense type, and discussing matters face to face is intrinsic to these types of societies where bureaucracy is scarcely present in day to day life.

“And let me tell you,” Jonessen responds with a smile, “I appreciate that very much. You didn’t have to.”

“I think we did,” Hongjoong replies, playing into it more. “As you know, we’re geologists on a scholarly mission. However, we don’t choose our sites, they’re assigned to us. When we landed here, we didn’t know the state of the planet or where we’d be put to work. I’d like to apologize for any disturbance our presence here has caused. We had no idea it was such a new settlement.”

“Oh, you don’t need to apologize. It’s fun, it really is. Don’t get many visitors around these parts,” The mayor answers.

“So I’ve heard. We’re thrilled to be here, though. It’s a really cool experience to visit an up and coming settlement. Right guys?” Hongjoong turns to the others. They all responds with wide-eyed nods. Joong figures it’s not fair that he gets bogged down with all the slick talking. Might as well bring them into it, too (even if only out of petty spite).

“Yes, we are excited about our little corner of the galaxy. She’s small and quaint, but she’s ours. We’ve built her from the ground up.”

“Now, this is kind of off topic, but I’m curious, how new is it? Have you been here since the beginning?” Get them talking about themself and stroke their ego - sweettalking fundamentals that Hongjoong learned when he started really haggling for junk prices as a teen.

Jonessen glows with pride, preening, “I sure was. Three decades now. Worked my way up from builder to mayor. That’s what I like about a new colony. Endless possibilities out on this frontier. Even a common man like me can make something of himself.”

In truth, the only “possibility” Hongjoong sees on the frontier is dust. But he’s not about to say that. To each their own, he tells himself.

“Well, congratulations,” Hongjoong smiles. “Now, regarding my reason for visiting you personally, I had a couple of questions about our prospective dig site.”

“Alright,” The mayor sits back and folds his hands in his lap. “Down to the nitty gritty. Tell me about your dig operation. Is it gonna require machinery? Demolition?”

“Actually, our samples don’t need to be very large at all, so no large specialized equipment will be needed. There won’t be any blasting, so there should be no disturbance to the townspeople. However, I wanted your approval before going in regardless,” Hongjoong takes out his comm. He taps a few options, putting it in free-float and crystallized scaling. 

The captain sets the comm at eye level and grabs opposite corners, pulling at each one until the comm screen stretches to about standard monitor size. The mayor’s eyes light up with interest at the tech. It’s probably the most advanced thing he’s seen in years. Courtesy of their very own Kang Yeosang, Joong’s pretty sure if he told the man Yeo made it, he’d demand the cyborg stay and build for them.

Hongjoong taps into the map where their target beacon blinks peacefully, just clicks away.

“Now, we’re here, and that’s supposed to be our dig site. Is that alright to you?”

For the first time since entering the room, the mayor’s smile falters ever so slightly. He stands up and leans close to the screen, stroking his chin in thought. After a moment of quiet assessment, the man stands up straight and regards the crew in the room.

“There’s seven of you fellas, right?”

“Um, yes,” Hongjoong answers, trying to hide his bafflement. “It’s seven. Why?”

“You look pretty strong. Any of you good fighters?” The mayor asks. 

San opens his mouth, but Wooyoung clamps his hand over it before the siren can insist his competence. 

“We’re not exactly trained soldiers, but, um, we’re fit, I guess,” Hongjoong frowns. “Why?”

The mayor heaves a sigh, setting his hands on his hips. His face falters, a shadow of dejection casting over his work worn features.

“Truth is, that there’s the old mine.”

“Old mine?” Hongjoong asks, brows raised incredulously. How old can anything be in the place? He guesses that old is very, very relative.

“She was built before the settlers came in. Coalition put her there to provide for us. Coal and lentumite, deeper down. She was operational for the first ten years, but there were too many issues with flooding. Had a nasty cave-in and we called it quits.”

“Oh,” Hongjoong frowns. “I’m so sorry to hear that.” He can only imagine the devastation that a mine cave-in would wrack across a small town like Tass. How many of their people worked in that mine? How many spouses and siblings were lost? Not to mention the impact it would have on the already fragile, barely established economy.

“What’s done is done,” The man responds, resigned. “Recent years, bandits been running rampant. They’ve hit us a few times.”

“Right,” Hongjoong nods. “The sheriff mentioned that.” He wonders what they’re doing about security to deal with them. Save for the old sheriff, Joong didn’t see any semblance of law enforcement. Perhaps everyone is personally armed. But is that enough to stave off a group of bandits? Depending on the number, they could easily overwhelm someone in their home. He throws the thoughts away, annoyed at his brain’s tendency to wander off on tangents.

“Yeah, they’ve been a real thorn in our side, them fellas in black,” Jonessen shakes his head. “For whatever reason, the bastards - pardon my language - think they can get something out of that old mine. But she’s shut down. Never yielded much in the first place, really. So let them try, I say.”

“I see,” Hongjoong says. “Would you consent to allowing us to collect samples? I genuinely promise we are not here to steal minerals.”

The mayor looks Hongjoong up and down for a minute, sizing him up. Joong squirms beneath the other’s discerning gaze. His heart beats loudly in his ears, nerves flaring up from his stomach to his chest. What are they going to do if he says no? Hongjoong hadn’t entertained the possibility that they wouldn’t be allowed. Sure, they could go anyway (in truth, he knows that’s what they would do - there’s no other option). Still, what if that puts the people on high alert? What if they’re put under watch?

“Go on ahead,” Jonessen says with a smile and a wave. “

Hongjoong suppresses the urge to let out a long, relieved breath. The captain grins. 

“Thank you,” The captain replies gratefully. “You are doing a wonderful service to the pursuit of science.”

“Now don’t go thanking me yet, I don’t remember what kinda blocks we got on there…” The man strokes his chin in thought. “I think it’s just a physical barricade. Yeah. She’s boarded up.”

“We’ll replace and refortify the closure after finishing our collection,” Hongjoong responds almost too enthusiastically. Excitement alight anew, he’s ready to go. He’s almost vibrating, eager and wanting to sprint to the beacon. Joong sticks out a hand. “That alright with you, sir?”

The mayor returns with a firm handshake and a white smile, “Well, that’s fine by me. Now, it is not my intention to keep you all from your honest work too long, but, please-” He waves to the spread of sandwiches and dainty tea set on the coffee table, “-Can’t imagine excavation or what have you is easy work. Get your fill before going.”

“Thank you, mayor,” Hongjoong responds.

“No, thank you for visiting our humble little dust bowl,” Jonessen chuckles. “If it’s all the same to you, I’m going to excuse myself.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Now don’t you leave too many leftovers, though!” He laughs, “Miss Ava worked hard on those little things. God I love them. ‘Specially the ones with the- the pink stuff. Well, you all have a good dig now.” He leaves with a wave and a smile, taking up almost the entire door frame as he exits.

Awed silence rolls in after his departure. Happy to oblige the man’s invitation to eat, a few of the crew lean forward to grab handfuls of finger sandwiches. Joong is pretty sure Yunho put a couple of tartlets into his pocket, but the captain decides not to mention it.

“Well,” Jongho says. “He was nice.”

“ Too nice,” Yeosang murmurs. 

“Shut up and eat your sandwiches,” Hongjoong hushes the other. “We don’t get kindness like this a lot. Let’s enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Mm- Oh my god, he’s right,” Yunho slurs, cheeks puffed out like a rodent’s full of food. “These pink ones are great.”

Hongjoong wipes his wrist over his forehead. We winces at the nasty, sticky, wet sensation of sweat seeping into his jacket sleeve.

Fuck.

It’s hot.

He squints, trying to make out the shapes in the horizon, to formulate them into something that seems real. Boiling hot air smudges all sorts of mysterious splotches and splatters of dull color in the distance. Another stiff breeze kicks up, but with it comes no respite. Far from it, actually. Hot air blows through the crew, cooking them from the outside in like a goddamn microwave. They cower under the paltry and far between stripes of shade they can find - a lone tree here, a fat cactus there. It’s mostly grass, though. Grass and rock and dust. So, so much dust. When the wind kicks up - as it so often does - it drags all the surface dust with it, enveloping them in a smoky cloud of dirt. When the wind dies down, the dust remains, taking its sweet time to settle onto the ground and mix with the sweat on the surface of their skin.

“How much further?” Hongjoong asks over his shoulder. Wooyoung had taken up nav duties.

He squints at his comm and answers, “Less than a quarter a click. See that tree over there?”

Hongjoong follows the other’s pointed finger, eyes settling on the small cluster of trees in the distance. He’s relieved that someone else noticed them. It means they’re not a mirage (which he’d been afraid of).

After what feels like eons (but had really been about twenty minutes of walking), the crew reaches their destination. The wind dies down, and Hongjoong lowers his collar which he’d popped up as makeshift dust protection. The mine entrance is unsuspecting, nothing more than a mound of dirt with boards over an opening.

“Take a rest under the tree,” Hongjoong tells his crew. He doesn’t have to ask them twice. The majority of them crumble under the sparse shade of the ragged canopy. 

Joong approaches the boarded up entrance, ever curious Yeosang at his side. The captain sizes up the fortification. It’s simple, really. Elementary. Worn boards nailed across a wooden frame. Probably scrap wood, by the looks of it. Or maybe the dusty winds have just eroded it to that extent. Joong doesn’t know, nor does he care. Beyond the slats lies his goal, a piece of the Compass.

A step further to the Treasure.

The captain steps back and lifts a leg experimentally. He steels himself, counting to three before delivering a swift kick to one of the boards.

“Craaaack!”

“Oh- Shit-!” The yelps.

“Hm,” Joong grunts, observing his handiwork. He hadn’t split it completely, but it did splinter and give under the force of his kick. He tries not to look as proud of himself as he feels. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Jongho shouts from the tree a few meters away.

“We’re kicking this shit in!” Joong yells back, steadying himself again.

“Oh for fuck’s- Let me!” Jongho shouts. He hoists himself off the ground and charges over, yanking the captain by his jacket. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“Wh-” Hongjoong laughs, “I’m fine. Look I almost-”

“Craaaaack!”

Without any apparent effort, Jongho rips off one of the boards with his bare hands. That stops the captain’s protest dead in its tracks. Jongho smirks and raises his eyebrows as if to say “I told you so”. The captain, pride not at all wounded, steps back and allows the other to yank off the boards.

With each board removed, it’s like watching a puzzle’s picture gradually being revealed. Except, the more that Hongjoong sees, the less pleased he is. Behind the wooden slats is not the opening to a cave as he thought, but a heavy looking metal door. Even beneath layers of dirt and grime, after years of wear, the Coalition footprint is undeniable. The logo is engraved in the center of the door, and to the right of it a metal panel juts out of the rock formation.

“Think you can open that?” Hongjoong asks the youngest.

Jongho pouts his lips, actually considering it.

“I’m kidding,” Joong says. He can just barely make out the seam in the middle of the door. Hongjoong doubts Jongho could manage to get even a fingernail between the two halves. The captain’s gaze turns to the panel at the side.

“Already on it,” Yeosang replies without need for verbal prompting. God, does Hongjoong appreciate the cyborg. “Though I can’t say I know much about Coalition tech. I only ever deal with their scraps…” He mumbles.

“Hey, Woo!” Hongjoong calls over to the first mate. Wooyoung, who’d been laughing about something with Yunho and San, obliges the captain’s beckoning.

“What’s up?” Wooyoung asks as he approaches.

“You know Coalition tech, right?”

“Uh, yeah. Sorta. Why? You need help, Yeo?”

Yeosang frowns, “Yeah. This is definitely Coalition security. But it’s really bare bones… Woo, what does this look like to you?”

“I thought they just sealed it off,” Hongjoong says.

Wooyoung leans forward, inspecting the console closely. It’s entirely unremarkable. It looks like a metal box with a miniscule screen to Hongjoong. He can’t imagine what kind of functionality it could possibly have. There’s no keypad, and there’s no way the screen is big enough to display anything meaningful.

“This is an old retinal scanner,” Wooyoung says.

“Shit,” Yeo mutters. “That’s what I thought.”

“Is that gonna be a problem?” Hongjoong asks. He feels stupid, but he genuinely doesn’t know. To his knowledge, locks can be picked. There’s a workaround for everything.

At least, there ought to be, he thinks.

Yeosang and Wooyoung exchange downtrodden looks. From their expressions, Hongjoong can tell that one of them wants to break bad news. The captain’s heart falls into his stomach.

Wooyoung apparently loses the battle of wills and is the one to respond first, “This is straightup retinal scan. Only someone Coalition can unlock this thing.”

“Wh- It can’t be hacked?” Hongjoong raises his eyebrows incredulously.

“Okay-” Yeosang, clearly vexed, cuts in. “Let me explain it like this. This technology is very, very simplistic and stripped down. You can’t- You can’t hack something like this. There’s nothing to hack it’s like… It’s like trying to open a can with a whisk. It just doesn’t work like that. Unless we can blast all this rock and get into the wiring that connects it physically to the door, we’re not gonna have the ability to mess with the software- Jongho stop that!” The cyborg chastises their youngest who, bless his soul, tries to get his fingers in the crack.

“If I can just- just get in there,” Jongho grimaces with exertion at his attempt.”

“You can’t be serious,” Hongjoong replies, crestfallen. “Look- Well, maybe the mayor has clearance.”

“Doubt that,” Wooyoung says. “I dunno how long he’s been mayor, but if this has been out of commission for twenty years, he probably doesn’t have the clearance.”

“So who the fuck is this gonna open up for, then?” Hongjoong asks, anxiety steadily rising. He can’t fathom the possibility of not being able to reach the piece. The idea hadn’t occurred to him, really. Yet again, his desire had caused his vision to tunnel. Now that he’s hit with reality, he finds himself at a loss, grasping desperately at optimistic solutions.

“Um, I can try to get into the panel,” Yeosang frowns, fingering at the seams of the metal against rock. “I dunno, though, I- Um, if I can get tools, maybe…” He taps at it idly, and the scanning beam projects. Yeosang flinches at the sudden flash of light. Hongjoong does, too. Even though tiny, his mind immediately recalls their time in BH.

“Bzzzt.” The console buzzes, flashing red with rejection. Wooyoung, all the while, purses his lips in thought.

“Okay, this was all set up by Coalition,” He says, arms crossed, tapping his toe as he thinks aloud. “And colonies are set up for easy Coalition access. Officers drop by for random inspections, sometimes. They do genuinely ‘secret shop’ which means…”

“Which means what?” Hongjoong prods insistently.

“The Coalition wants their hands in everything. This place is in the boonies, and they probably don’t give a shit… Usually facilities are independently linked to interstellar networks so they can operate and feed data regardless of a startup’s infrastructure status.”

“So?” Hongjoong asks, brows raised confusedly. “What? They snoop on new colonies?”

“Well, yes, but what I mean to say is that, technically, while the hardware is old, its software should be up to date.”

“I thought it was stupid simple, though.”

“It is, but that doesn’t mean it’s not updated.”

“So, what is the point?” Hongjoong asks stressedly.

“Hm…” Wooyoung steps in front of the console and leans forward. The beam runs up and down his eyeball. After a hefty second of consideration:

“Bzzzt.” It buzzes again.

“Yeah, okay,” Wooyoung says, frowning.

“What is it?” The captain presses.

“Only someone enlisted can open one of these up.”

“Well fuck,” Hongjoong pinches the bridge of his nose. Pain knocks at his temples, and he’s not sure if it’s stress or dehydration. It’s probably both, he muses. “You think they’ve got any Coalition in town?”

“We’d be fucked if they did,” Woo responds.

“Alright, so my next question is, how can we trick it?”

“We don’t have to,” Yeosang chimes in. His face, which had been previously knit into an expression of frustration, relaxes.

“Huh?” Hongjoong grunts.

The cyborg’s gaze meets his captain’s, and he reiterates himself, “We don’t have to trick the system. It’s just a boolean, right Woo?”

“Uh, yeah. It’ll just check against the list. Why?” The first mate tilts his head, equally as baffled as the captain.

“Because,” Yeosang answers, “We do know one person who’s in the Coalition system.”

“No,” Hongjoong snaps quickly. “Absolutely not.”

“Captain,” Yeosang responds in a soft, satiating tone. “Think about it-”

“I did. And we’re not doing that.”

“Why not?”

“Because. He’s a liability,” Hongjoong answers the other clippedly. Just the thought of the pompous platinum blond sets him off. His stomach roils with anger, the toiling emotion rolling over his entire body like a heated wave. It does nothing for his already feverish, sweaty body. He’s afraid he’ll turn into a pool of lava if he lends the other too much thought.

“There are seven of us and one of him,” Yeosang says calmly. “What is there to be afraid of?”

“Nothing! I’m not afraid of him!” The captain’s words come out so loudly that the others by the tree lift their heads to look. Joong coughs, another wave of heat rolling over his body - this one caused by embarrassment. “I’m- I’m not afraid of anything. I just don’t trust him. You turn your back for a single second and he’ll drive a knife into it.”

Yeosang narrows his eyes and leans in, lowering his voice to a murmur, “Is that what he did back on the ship?”

“Captain,” Wooyoung cuts in. Hongjoong isn’t sure if he heard or not. If he did, he apparently doesn’t care because he makes no comment. “I think it’s a good idea. We can take that guy, easy.”

“Come on,” Yeo adds, his voice normal again. “This is for the Treasure.”

Hongjoong huffs angrily. 

Vitriol stews in his stomach just thinking about cooperating with him again. He’s not sure he can face the man, if he can cope with the unsettling azure eyes boring into his soul, judging him.

Hongjoong huffs angrily. It’s not that he’s angry at his crew for the proposal. It’s logical. He’s angry at himself, really. It upsets him knowing that he allows the other to affect him. It upsets him to think that he would nearly pass up this chance at Treasure just because of the imposition he’s somehow projected onto the other.

The Petty Officer can’t hurt him, he reminds himself. Not like this, anyway. Not when he’s surrounded by his crew, not when he’s got a determined mission. He won’t hurt him, and he won’t hurt the crew. Because Hongjoong won’t allow it.

Not this time.

Not ever again.