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Kytt’s heart beat a little faster as Ark leaned in, her claws under their chin, Her goggles lay strewn across the table by her white lab coat, revealing the crimson pool of her eyes, round and shining, gazing back into Kytt’s faux ones as they leaned in over Ark’s lap on the single chair the sank into. Kytt wanted to melt into her arms and feel her warmth forever, wanted to grab her arm and feel their tails entwine.
The lab was empty, the only sound was the echoing pipes and their quiet breath against the air as their hearts beat closely. A fluttering feeling of fuzzy warmth flooded in Kytt’s chest. The moment was content until Ark broke the silence.
What she said was far from what Kytt was expecting.
“I know you aren’t Irken.” She whispered.
Her statement was abrupt, instantly making Kytt’s blood run cold.
“What…?” Kytt’s voice was small. Their heart was pounding rapidly again, but for a different reason this time.
Ark let out a little playful giggle, as if it was just some silly little secret rather than a detrimental cover of circumstance, a life or death concealment that could get them killed if anyone found out. Kytt’s claws dug into the chair. Their Amber eyes where widening as they fully processed what Ark knew.
“How?” They whispered.
“I mean, it was sort of obvious. I’ve never seen you use any of your PAK functions, even when it would save you so much time and effort, and you don’t act like any Irken I’ve ever met.”
“Neither do you.” Kytt stated. It was true. Ark was different from the ruthless species they’d come to despise. She was a bit mad and unhinged on the outside, but beneath it all, she wasn’t cruel. She didn’t carry the same air of superiority that other Irkens flaunted. Even with her advantageous height, she never used it against anyone. She wasn’t power hungry. She was the only one, both on Vort and Irk, that had ever treated Kytt like a real person rather than a machine built to churn out weapons of destruction and serve their higher-ups.
Ark’s only response to this observation was to let out a faint raspy laugh and reply, “I suppose you're right.”
Her overall demeanor was so lighthearted. It was jarring. Did she understand what any of this meant? Kytt was a fugitive, a runaway, a rogue criminal hiding away amongst the ranks of the Irken regime. They weren’t meant to be there. One wrong step would land them imprisoned for life. The heart rate spiked at the thought of it and their body gave in to anxious trembling.
Ark must’ve noticed, because she pulled them in tighter, gently stroking the fuzz of their nonexistent antennae and putting a hand over the false glow of their hologrammed PAK.
They could still feel the physical touch as if the parts were really there, but the sensation was disconnected, as if their body didn’t belong to them. In a way it sometimes felt like it didn’t.
Kytt knew it was only a hologram, but sometimes they looked down at the hyperrealistic projection of green skin that wasn’t theirs and the rigid uniform of an Empire they despised and almost lost their sense of self in the facade. They spent every second of every day trying to blend in and convince everyone else that they belonged there.
It was exhausting.
They were tired. So very tired.
“I’m sorry.” Kytt choked out, their voice wavering, “You probably hate me now.” They felt sick. They avoided Ark’s gaze, fully expecting it to be full of hurt and betrayal, yet the quell of her voice was calm.
“I don’t.”
Kytt could only stare in shock. They’d played this scenario in their head over and over again, only expecting the worst possible outcomes, anger, rejection, being turned over to the control brains, Every horrible thing that could ever possibly happen.
But Ark wasn’t mad.
“Why?,” Kytt asked, “I’m a Vortian. You’re supposed to despise me. You’re supposed to give into the desire to serve your empire and turn me in. It's built into your very being to be cold and cruel towards every other species. Don’t think I haven’t witnessed the Irken Propaganda. I know what your kind is like.” the tinge of bitterness soured their words, seeping through the pain and fear. It was instantly washed away by regret as they saw Ark’s face shift. She was hurt.
Her face was still bent into a smile, but it was almost a bit unhinged.
“I work with a Vortian scientist every week! And you’re right, I am supposed to hate them! And why don’t I? Why don’t I hate you? I thought I didn’t hate you. But If all you see me as is a heartless monster, then maybe I do!” Her bloodred eyes were wild. Her words stung.
“Ark, no, I don’t see you like that! You’re not a monster. You’re the only Irken who I would ever trust! You’re different then all of them!”
She also had a tendency to heavily experiment on and torture alien creatures for fun, But she treated Kytt like a person, and that’s all that mattered to them.
“What’s that supposed to mean? How am I different?” Yet her eyes reflected that she already knew the answer.
“Are you… are you insinuating that I’m defective…?” Kytt would’ve expected those last words to be fueled by anger, but instead, her tone lifted into something like a genuine question, tainted by a hint of fear.
“No… Yes? I don’t know.” Kytt didn’t know enough about the subject to give proper input. They knew that defectives were generally labeled as “bad” in Irken society, but they didn’t see anything wrong about it. From their understanding, anyone who didn’t fit neatly into the rigid mold of society was considered “defective”. A disgrace. But if Individuality was a weakness, when Ark seemed to shine brighter than every Irken Kytt had ever met, then maybe the system was broken. Who cares what it saw them as, as long as they had each other they felt complete. Ark didn’t fit the mold, and if that made her defective, Kytt didn’t care. They wouldn’t want her any other way.
They weren’t sure she saw things the same way.
Both aliens fell silent, Until the silence was too unbearable and Kytt blurted something out.
“I don’t care if you’re defective. I love you.”
“ Love…?” Ark said it slowly as if to test the word on her tongue, She let out a hysterical giggle “Can Voritans love? Irkens can’t love! But…” she hesitated, “I think I love you too…?” Her smile remained ever present as if it was protecting her. She couldn’t let it break or her emotions would come pouring out like a waterfall. Irkens weren’t supposed to love. But she did. Maybe she was defective. And for whatever reason, at that second, she didn’t care. Just for that fleeting moment, alone together in the lab, they were free. Free to feel love with no regard for what the Irken empire thinks. If this is what being a defective meant, then yes, she was defective.
She was defective and full of love. She was broken because she cared. Her heart fluttered when she pictured Kytt’s face. She wanted to stay with them forever. She would defend against the entire Armada if she had to and it hurt because she knew these thoughts made her broken. Just for having them she was no better than a traitor or criminal, worthy of being deleted and tossed aside like a discarded wrapper.
She didn’t belong, and neither did Kytt.
But maybe that was ok. It was almost insane to think it, but Ark didn’t mind.
Bonus Art of them <3
