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“You're making a mistake,” Hyrule says, low and confident, for all that he's bound to one of the seats in this cargo ship, wrists caught in cuffs behind the back. His joints are more flexible than most people would expect, but even he can't do much against the thick, woven straps fastened around his chest and legs, pulled almost uncomfortably tight. He's glad he can breathe.
“Oh, are we, little spy?” One of the crew members approaches him, head cocked like an owl’s. He looks pretty Hylian, though Hyrule knows that doesn't really mean much, especially outside the Hylian system like they are.
This man wears a patched cloak and ragged boots meant for spacewalking, not dirt, probably in an attempt to look more intimidating. The name Baza is embroidered on a patch sewn to his chest, and Hyrule doubts that's his real name, but it’s a name. Hyrule doesn't know what role this guy plays on the crew, but he isn't helping to load the ship and nobody seems to care, so he's probably high-ranking.
“I'm not alone.”
Baza smiles, as if to startle Hyrule with his reminder of, “Oh, we know.”
Obviously. They'd taken Hyrule’s primary communicator and beacon, which has to connect to someone. It’s apparent that Hyrule works with a team. What team, though, and how competent they are? Well, that's what Baza doesn't know. He has to count on the fact that Hyrule's team is bad enough to not come for him.
Hyrule has to count on the opposite. He isn't sure he can, but he has hope. He’s known the other Links for a few weeks now, and he knows that they're not only good with swords and blasters, but that their observational skills and strategies are pretty good, too. He hopes it's enough to notice that he'd truly disappeared from his solo scouting mission.
Baza continues, ignoring the thumps behind him as one of the other members of this crew drops a large crate in the storage. “In another ten minutes, we’ll be gone, and absolutely nobody will ever find you.”
“Why don't you just kill me now?” Idiot. Don't give him ideas.
“I suspect,” Baza says, leaning in closer, “that you will be worth more than all the rest of this junk.” He nods toward the growing pile of plastic crates, filled with what looks like “scavenged” ship parts. One or two of those parts are from the Epona, which is why Hyrule had been sent to go scout things out in the first place.
“Isn’t trafficking a little more dangerous than theft?” Hyrule asks.
“Who mentioned trafficking? I sure didn't. I'm thinking something more along the lines of livestock.” Baza flicks his hand to the side, and a thick clunk accompanies the appearance of a rugged hunting knife, spurred near the handle and clearly well-loved. He presses the flat of the blade against Hyrule’s right shoulder. “There's something in your blood, little spy, I can smell it. Care to enlighten me?”
For the first time today, Hyrule feels a spark of genuine fear. His blood is not meant to be spilled, much less bottled and sold throughout the galaxy. He sincerely doubts that these people would perform background checks on their customers, or have them sign any promises.
His world narrows, blocking out the others still loading the ship with stolen supplies. The cold light from the urban planet outside the door leaks in, highlighting Baza’s sharp face above him. Hyrule takes a breath, does not swallow, and meets those unfriendly eyes with as unimpressed a look as he can manage.
It's only after a beat of silence that Hyrule realizes that his unresponsiveness just confirmed that something unusual is up with his blood.
“We’ll figure it out, I'm sure,” Baza continues with a smile full of teeth just a little too pointed to be true Hylian. Zora teeth, maybe? His words break the small spell, and the sounds of crates dropping and metal pieces clinking and clanking against each other crash back into Hyrule’s ears, much louder.
“I don't think you have the resources for something like that,” Hyrule says, glancing around. “You hardly have the space.”
“I'm convinced you'd pay dividends. We could upgrade. Your blood really is something special, isn't it?” Baza’s dark tongue snakes out from behind his teeth and touches his top lip in focus. His knife until the blade slices gently through Hyrule’s green tunic and brown jumpsuit.
Hyrule turns his head away with a hiss as the knife bites deeper. It cuts shallowly into his shoulder, but stops when it hits harder chitin just below the first layer of skin. That chitin isn't impossible to cut through or break, but it stops the knife from getting too deep at first, and Baza stops.
“Subdermal plating?” he says, frowning, and uses his fingers to rip open Hyrule’s clothing at the shoulder. The cut there leaks a small amount of blood, but nothing too dramatic. A single drop goes rolling down into his sleeve.
Baza catches the drop with his finger before it can disappear, then carries it to his lips. He watches Hyrule with suspicious eyes as he tastes it.
Hyrule waits for the verdict, his lips pressed together. Weirdo.
“I need more,” Baza decides after a moment. He uses both hands to press his thumbs up to the sides of the small cut, then pulls to open the cut more. He wants to tear the skin. It starts to burn.
“Stop that,” Hyrule pleads, a whine building in the back of his throat.
“What's under there?” Baza asks, easing up on the pressure, though he doesn't let go. “You don't have metal in you, do you? It doesn't taste like it.”
Hyrule hesitates.
Baza’s fingers try to tear open his skin again.
“Ah! It's not metal,” Hyrule confesses. It's not that big of a deal, anyway. His armor is normal for a Kasitan like him, it wouldn't be much of a giveaway for someone with access to information. “It's just natural armor. There are better spots to get blood from, please don't.”
“Natural? What are you?” Baza stops, confused.
“Kasitan.”
“What? That sounds fake.”
Hyrule’s nostrils flare. He's used to people not knowing where he's from, and prefers it that way, but to accuse him of making up his heritage and home… Well, that's insulting. “From Kasuto. The galaxy is a big place.”
He says that with a tone perhaps just a bit too condescending. He struggles against the band holding his chest to the chair as Baza pulls open the cut again. More blood leaks out.
Instead of catching some of it with his fingers, Baza leans down to press his no-doubt-unsanitary mouth to the cut. Hyrule gags in his throat as he feels the movement of lips and tongue on his skin. It's vaguely warm, and slimy, and overall disgusting. To top it all off, his cut begins to sting as if salted. He looks away. The stinging brings embarrassing tears to his eyes, but he can't wipe them away with his hands bound like this.
He struggles weakly again, but stills at the responding pain from Baza hurting him on purpose. I’m going to get so sick from this.
The main to the ship slams shut heavily, and Baza pulls away as if startled. A few people mutter among themselves as they secure the cargo, voices echoing, while others bang around in other parts of the ship.
They're running out of time. If this ship pulls too far off the planet, it can activate its Subrosian drive, and then Hyrule will never be found. He can feel his backup beacon digging into his hip, hidden beneath his outer layers of clothing, and he just has to pray that it's enough. The hot tears in his eyes drop down his face and plop onto his chest.
Soon, he thinks toward the others as hard as he can. Come soon.
Baza lets go of Hyrule's arm. The stinging recedes, and Hyrule opens his eyes in time for Baza’s hand to grip his chin and angle his head over.
Baza’s lips are stained green with Hyrule’s blood. His eyes soften, but not in a way that spells anything good. He looks as if he's a bit high, or perhaps floating on a different kind of cloud. His thumb strokes Hyrule’s cheek, wiping away an escaped tear. “Well, one thing’s for sure: we really will be able to sell that for a good price.”
Hyrule’s lips twist, and he lashes forward with his teeth. His bite grazes the skin of Baza’s flinching fingers, but doesn't get a good hold.
“Bad,” Baza scolds as if to a pet.
Gods, that's what Hyrule is going to be, now, isn't it? If the others don't get here in time—and the window of opportunity is closing quickly—then he's going to live here or in someone else’s care for the rest of his life, at least until he dies because someone in the know gets ahold of his blood and uses it. That would spell disaster for more than Kasuto.
I can't let that happen. He's going to keep his eyes and ears open as wide as he can, and find a way to prevent his blood from being used. One way or another.
He bares his teeth at Baza as the ship begins to rumble, warming up for flight.
Hyrule's chances are dropping like a stone thrown from a cliff. He can't rely on anyone else, now, just himself, the way it's always been. He has cursed blood, yes, but he also has defenses, and he definitely will use what he can.
“I can promise you,” Hyrule says as Baza heads to a cabinet to rifle through it, “this won't end the way you want it to.”
“I think it will.” Baza returns and presses a bandage up to the cut on Hyrule's shoulder, sealing it off. “Can't let any of that valuable blood escape.”
Hyrule makes a face.
“And for a finishing touch…” Baza holds up a strip of thick black cloth, a remnant of some tarp or tent, maybe, and Hyrule turns his head away.
He doesn't think he can get out of being gagged, not tied up like this, but he doesn't have to make it easy. He tosses his head in every direction to try and get away. After a few frustrated seconds, the gag lands, digging into the sides of his mouth as Baza pulls it tight.
“Don't be put out,” Baza says, almost gently, taking Hyrule’s chin again in tight fingers. “I have some friends who know what to do with people like you. You'll be quiet and content someday.” His thin lips rest for a moment against Hyrule’s forehead, leaving a cold smear of blood.
Hyrule makes a protesting noise in his throat, grossed out and frustrated, but Baza ignores him. He secures everything else in the hold, locking cabinets and tightening straps, then leaves Hyrule alone.
The ship rumbles harder, shaking Hyrule’s teeth, then lifts into the air. Hyrule's stomach gets left behind for more than one reason. That second lasts forever, Hyrule caught and dreading the future, the ship around him an unfamiliar prison that promises what Hyrule hopes is an early death. Better that than anything else he can think of.
The ascent begins smoothly, like most of those Hyrule has experienced, especially lately—Sky is a truly excellent pilot. But this ship, after a few seconds, lurches like a buoy in a choppy ocean, listing hard to one side. The liquid in Hyrule’s stomach tosses with the wave, burning his throat. He grimaces against it.
Off in the inhabited parts of the ship, someone is yelling. Then multiple someones, and a second rumble overlaps the first, dissonant. Hyrule’s chair buzzes uncomfortably with the intense sound. There's a blast from somewhere— the Epona! —and gravity disappears for two seconds, then slams Hyrule back into its embrace with rattling vision. It's fortunate that he doesn't pass out.
He groans in protest at the treatment, but quickly quiets. There are voices nearby, familiar ones. His heart leaps, and Hyrule lets out a long breath of relief. His chest deflates, giving him a bit more wiggle room within his bonds, and his head rests up against the back of the chair.
They're here. I'm okay.
The crew of the Epona are not the only ones here, unfortunately. The sound of someone at the lock of a smaller door makes his heart fly into his throat, and he has half a second to come up with a plan.
He closes his eyes and goes limp.
As he'd suspected, he doesn't recognize the footsteps that scramble into the hold, but he does recognize the voice in the muttered curses. It's Baza, probably here to rescue his “investment,” or at least try to secure his own escape. Hyrule slows his breathing and does not flinch when he feels a hand at his neck.
“Shining little buggers,” Baza sighs, and then Hyrule hears the shink of a blade.
He watches through his eyelashes as much as he dares. Baza flips open a rectangular tin from his pocket and scrapes his knife across it, coming away with yellow paste. The image resonates with something in Hyrule's head. That’s a poison of some kind. Baza must be planning on making a stand.
Well, the joke’s on him. His knife, poisoned or not, won't stand up to anyone’s sword work.
The main door slams open, once again startling Baza. The tin in his hands flies up and hits the ground with a sharp clang, accompanied by more boots and shouts. A bit of yellow smears across the floor.
“Hyrule!”
“Found him!”
“Wind, go around—”
“Is he okay?”
Hyrule would grin if he wasn't currently playing dead. He can't quite pick out one voice from another in the small group, but he does know that this is his crew. His friends.
“Not a step closer!” Baza probably means his voice to sound commanding, but it's meek. Something pokes Hyrule’s cheek. The knife. “This is poisoned.”
Oh. It's for me. Duh.
Wait.
As if I wouldn't recognize the smell of silentwither!
The sounds of boots pause, though someone moves to the front. Judging by the voice and the way Hyrule’s senses chime on the words, it's Legend.
“Okay, well, what do you want?”
“To get out of here free.”
“Tough ask, my guy. You stole parts from a lot of ships around here, and you kidnapped our medic. We're rather disinclined to let you go.”
“I have a poisoned knife to your unconscious friend’s face. You'll let me go.”
“Do you wanna be charged for murder too? Because we can do that.”
“I don't see any badges. You don't have jurisdiction.”
“Do you really wanna test us?”
“You're kids.”
Hyrule tunes the stalling out, because his feet are free. He pauses. He hadn't noticed the straps loosen. A second later, he feels someone’s fingers at his wrists, light and deft. He wiggles his pinky finger to let whoever it is know that he's awake. The little huff of laughter that Baza can't hear over the sound of his own blustering lets Hyrule know that it's Wind.
Legend keeps Baza’s attention, grandstanding and doing all kinds of bluffing, while Wind quietly removes Hyrule's cuffs and replaces them with a little blaster. Hyrule keeps his hands behind him as if still caught, but settles the blaster into his grip to pull out at a moment's notice. The knife still pokes into his cheek.
Wind remains silent and quick as he pulls the strap off Hyrule’s chest, leaving him entirely free with a weapon. He works on the gag next, and is just as efficient getting that off.
Hyrule opens one eye to see Legend just a few yards away, standing casually with a sword in one hand, arguing passionately. The conversation has moved on to the role of law enforcement in a shipping yard, somehow, and Baza’s attention has definitely slipped, though the knife has not. From behind Legend, Wild catches Hyrule’s eye and gives him a thumbs-up. Nobody else is around at the moment.
Although the movement is more jerky than he’d like, Hyrule does not falter as he stands. The knife against his cheek slices shallowly as Baza flinches and steps back, away from the blaster barrel that Hyrule digs right into his chest.
Baza’s wide eyes flash, and he bares his teeth. He waves his knife but doesn't brandish it. “Only I have the antidote!”
“Oh? What does the poison do?” Hyrule asks lightly, using his thumb to turn the blaster setting down from fatal. Honestly, Wind. He isn't a threat.
Baza licks his lips and glances over at Legend and Wild again. “Once it enters your bloodstream, you'll go catatonic,” he says, a threat in the bite of his words. “Never to be awoken.”
“You have no idea who you're dealing with, don't you?” Hyrule laughs. “Silentwither is dangerous, true. A girl I know once spent a hundred years in a silentwither coma. She's now the queen of Kasuto, thanks to the fact that I developed the silentwither antidote a few years ago. You might have known that if you had done your research.”
“Like I'd look up some irrelevant, tiny—”
Hyrule pulls the trigger. A small bolt of energy sweeps through Baza’s chest, immediately knocking him unconscious. His body drops like a sandbag.
There's blessed silence for a moment. Hyrule stretches his shoulders out and turns to Wind to hand the blaster back. “Thanks.”
“Sure. That guy sure chose the wrong poison.”
“Yes, he did.” Hyrule snorts and turns, then sucks in a startled breath.
Legend is almost right up in his face, lips pursed as his violet eyes search Hyrule for visible injuries. He notices the bandage on his arm and the cut on his face, and for a second Hyrule wonders if Legend is going to try to taste his blood, too.
But of course he doesn't. He hands Hyrule another sealing bandage for his face. “Is the antidote in the Epona’s files? Just in case.”
“Yes, along with all the others I know. There's a dose of it in the freezer, too.” Hyrule takes a small step back and unwraps the bandage to smooth it over his face. “I'm prepared.”
“Good. They hurt you?”
He cares?
“...just a little. I'll take something to stave off infection.”
Probably just because I'm important to the team.
Legend sighs and pats Hyrule’s shoulder, then tries for a smile. “Good to hear. Getting kidnapped sucks. Come on. Let's go clean up the rest of this mess.”
He actually cares.
---
Hyrule knocks back a few swallows of his extra-filtered water to chase down the antibiotics. In the few hours it's been since his attempted kidnapping, he’s been too busy to take tyese—cleaning up, tending to a few injuries that the others had sustained during his rescue, helping unload the thieves’ ship so the local authorities could return things to their rightful owners, giving his reports. Oh, and taking the silentwither antidote, of course, just in case that knife got deep enough to give him problems.
The cut on his arm itches now, even under the new clean bandage. He changed into a sleeveless top earlier so he can get at it more easily, and he's getting a bit chilly. Hopefully these antibiotics kill the growing infection before it can really take hold. Hyrule doesn't like being sick, but it happens way too often out here. He knows how to deal with it.
The narrow door to the medbay slides open, and Legend steps in, his eyes locked on Hyrule.
Hyrule screws the top of his canteen back on and frowns. “Do you need something?”
“I'm just curious.” Legend leans up against one of the cabinets on the walls as the door closes behind him. It leaves the medbay silent except for their breathing and the slight bubble of another antidote distilling on a heating plate.
Blaster on his hip. Mine with my other belt. My sword in the corner. If he draws, duck low to trip, then jump to the table and get the sword.
“Curious about what?”
Legend rolls his eyes. “Relax, Hyrule. I'm not gonna attack you.”
“...I know.”
“Yeah, and that's why you're tensed up like that and glanced at my weapon. Look, I get having secrets, I have a few myself. You can tell me to shove off. But that guy back there—the one you shot—he was saying some weird stuff when we took him in.” Legend picks one of the tools from the magnetic strip behind the narrow countertop and fiddles with it. He isn't likely to break it, so Hyrule doesn't protest.
“Weird stuff like what?”
“Something something, tasting your blood made him feel a decade younger, I didn't get it all but I think that was the gist.” Legend looks up at Hyrule without moving his head. “What's up with that?”
Of course.
Hyrule hooks his canteen back on his belt and turns to one of the cabinets to work on restocking the bandages he'd used. “He was probably trying to convince someone to go in with him on a business venture.”
“A business venture? Selling your blood? To drink?”
“I don't want to go into detail,” Hyrule says, pulling out a box with a grunt and standing to set it on the bench, “but plenty of people would probably pay a lot for it. And a few people who know what it really is would pay more than money.”
Legend scoffs, messing with a moving part on the doodad in his hands. “What do you even mean?”
Hyrule fixes him with a serious look. “If the wrong people get ahold of me, they could cause a system-wide apocalypse in Byrule. I'm not exaggerating.”
It takes Legend a second to process that, his mouth open an inch and his brain clearly working behind his eyes. “If that's true—why the hell are you here, likely to get shot at or kidnapped, instead of… I don't know, in a high-security resort or something!”
“Because the Director doesn't know. I think. And I'd rather keep it that way.” Hyrule tears open a thin box of bandages and starts shoving handfuls into the right drawer. He shakes his head. “If she did, I would be in a ‘high-security resort,’ except that would look a lot like prison. I'm very good at not bleeding, all right? I'm actually useful to the crew, and to be honest, I'm probably safer while on a ship like this, with all of you, than I ever would be running around on my own. Nobody can use me if they can't find me.”
Legend runs a hand through his hair. Hyrule pretends to not notice the way that the color has gone dull and pale in shock. “You're being serious.”
“Yeah.”
“That guy actually drank your blood?”
“Why are you caught up on that part?” Hyrule looks over, bemused, then starts to pack his belt pouch full while he has the box out.
“Because it's disgusting!”
Hyrule rolls his eyes, though he can't keep a slight smile off his face. “Yeah. A little. Why do you think I'm taking antibiotics?”
“Ugh. Ew.” Legend sticks his tongue out and makes a face.
“I know.” Hyrule hesitates. “And about the rest of it…”
Legend waves a hand. “I guess if I can trust you to pull shrapnel from my back, then I can trust you to avoid triggering an apocalypse, right?”
“...I mean. You can.” Hyrule meets Legend’s eyes again.
“Good.” Legend holds Hyrule’s gaze for a moment longer, looking thoughtful. “And it’s good to be aware of that kind of thing. If you feel like you could use another pair of eyes looking for those people you're running from, someone else in your corner, then let me know. I wanna be, if you want me there.”
He cares.
Hyrule breaks eye contact and closes the big box slowly. He takes a breath. “Thanks. I can write you a list of things to look out for.”
“Sure thing.” Legend puts the device he's been fiddling with back on the magstrip. “Well, it should be time to launch again pretty soon. Seemed like they were almost done fixing stuff when I passed. So I'll see you back on bridge.” He opens the medbay door again, letting in the sounds of life.
“Yeah.” Hyrule offers Legend a small smile.
It's returned. “Stay safe.”
“I mean, I'm just in here…”
“With a lot of sharp things. Be safe.”
He cares enough to joke.
“All right, all right.” Hyrule’s grin grows. “See you on bridge later.”
Legend gives him a mock salute, then disappears.
Someone else in my corner. Could be nice.
Hyrule shoves his box back into the cabinet.