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Star Ocean (M, A)

Too much reading Project Hail Mary, I know this is a wildly different concept from it but actually I was rly inspired by this fic from @starlightkun . Read it a while ago and it was SO good it made me want to write something sci-fi whenever a good idea struck me. Highly recommend reading that one before/after this!!

Part One, Part Two

Word Count: 8.5k

Warnings: ANGST, slowwwwwww burn, violence, themes of abuse, emotional manipulation, character d3ath, medical things like needles, blood, etc. if that is triggering for you

What does it mean to lose your humanity? And can it really be found? Jungwoo is your science experiment, assigned to you, for the testing of the Dios Serum used to create bioweapons. But why him?

Over time you'd learned not to feel all that sorry for the subjects that they send. Usually they're some sadistic criminal, shipped straight from a double max facility on a far off planet. Altogether undeserving of the "privilege" (as your ruler puts it) of donating their body to the great cause. Thousands of hours of clinical research and still, the Dios Serum is not ready.

At least, not yet. That's your job as head researcher. One that you're eerily close to finishing. There's just one critical component missing: a natural passive immunity to mycotoxins. It can only be passed down from mother to child, making it extremely difficult to track. It's extremely rare but more commonly occurs in organisms native to the planet Terra.

When you informed the Emperor of this fact, you had desperately hoped he would give up. But deep down you knew that he would stop at nothing to become the most powerful ruler in the galaxy. He'd soon ordered bio-testing on the entire planet. Billions of people had their blood harvested. Unknowingly serving a purpose that none would agree to.

After nearly two years of searching, they'd tracked down this poor man in front of you and drug him in two nights ago. He was tall, an atypical trait for his home planet, and utterly beautiful. If he'd have been born to higher prospects he certainly would have been a celebrity. A model maybe, for one of those elite planet exclusive brands most could never afford. They'd love the 'novelty' of having a real 'exotic' Terran display their products.

He looked peaceful as he slept. No hint of pain at all. The mandatory waiting period has passed and his body should be adequately acclimated to the climate of the lab by now. Your gaze lingers on the contours of his face, hallowed from malnutrition. Something in your heart aches when you look at him, a sense of empathy that hadn't yet been completely burned away. You turn back to your computer and start logging some data. "Maybe I'll let him rest a bit longer" you muttered. You knew what he'd have to endure when he woke up.

After about an hour, a loud sound makes you jump.

Bang. The glass of the dormiopod where the specimen is resting resonates with the impact. He rubs his forehead deliriously.

"Ah good. You're awake," you press a button on your console to open the pod. He would've jumped in surprise if not for being strapped down. You cleared your throat, "I was beginning to get worried".

"Who are you? Where am I?" he shuddered. His large brown eyes flit from corner to corner of the lab as he took in his environment.

"Do you recall your employer taking a blood sample Mr..." you snatch and scan his intake paperwork for a name, "Kim Jungwoo?".

He starts trying to detach the cords from himself, "Is this some kind of hospital? I promise I'm fine". You gently lay your hand on his arm in an effort to stop him.

"Mr. Kim, please just stay in the pod-"

"A 'pod' sounds expensive and I definitely can't pay so if you'd just let me go home now," he's now tugging at the old leather restraints which of course don't budge.

You caution, "Mr. Kim, I firmly suggest you stop messing with those or-", but it's too late.

The man's body jolts and he rips his hand away in pain. He turns over his palms to inspect it for injury. The electric security shock has gotten less potent over time. But having been subject to its effects once or twice yourself, it definitely stings. His eyebrows furrow as his angry gaze pierces you. "What kind of hospital is this?" he bites.

You sigh, and spin around in your chair to face him completely. "Unfortunately this is not a hospital, I'm sorry." you sincerely mean it. "The High Emperor thanks you in advance for your service" you announce and begin to flip through his charts.

"Please just tell me what's going on" he pleads. He looks terrified. Any light slowly fading from his face.

This is still the hardest part for you. Having to tell them. "Jungwoo, I really am sorry but..." you gulp, "You're not going home". He stares at you, stunned into silence. Wide brown eyes fix their unblinking stare into yours. You explain, "As appointed royal researcher, your body and it's contents are thereby my property as declared by the High Emperor. Your next of kin will be made aware of your departure of Terra and a check for 10,000 credits will be sent as compensation". You hate that script, it's so cold and lifeless. Not to mention 10,000 credits is only really worth a rent payment or two on Terra.

"I'm trapped here?" he restates. Solemnly you reiterate that yes, essentially he is. Jungwoo starts to realize the severity of his situation now. He thrashes once more under his bindings, enduring several more controlled shocks. Initially you try to reason with him, but later say nothing at his attempts until finally he gives up, choosing instead to lay back onto the pod bed. "Why are you doing this?" he fumes.

"Classified" you reply flatly, and you fidget in your seat as he stares into space. You spin back towards your monitors. "You're currently in a secure lab on Terra's moon," you push a button that opens the observation glass to the expansive view of space. "Nowhere near the royal sector or any authorities for that matter if that concerns you. Due to the nature of my work, I'm not permitted off-planet either. For what it's worth, you're the first Terran I've ever interacted with here" you explain.

The silence lingers painfully long. Broken only the clacking sound of your fingers typing away on your keyboard.

After a while he growls, "What is my blood for?". He's afraid, but smart enough to connect the dots. A favorable trait in today's world. "I assume you need it for something".

"Unfortunately that is... also classified," you blow into your vinyl gloves and slip them on, "As long as you cooperate, there's no chance you'll be hurt". You begin to set up the drip for his IV. His face goes white at the sight of it.

"W-wait-" he stammers and points a shaky hand as best he can toward the apparatus, "What are you- what is that?".

"This is to help stabilize your levels. You've been asleep for around 48 hours now, you're dehydrated and likely nutrient deficient" you take his wrist gingerly in your gloved hand but he finches it away. You sigh, "Jungwoo... please don't make this harder than it already is". Holding your hand outstretched, you give him the opportunity to consent before you have to sedate him for his own good.

He fixes his gaze on you, "Hard? For you?" he swallows, "That’s rich coming from some evil scientist".

His biting comment effects you more than it should, especially because this is the last thing you enjoy doing. You swallow, “I promise it won’t hurt, just a tiny pinch and then it’s over. And you’ll feel a lot less weak”. You pray he just agrees so you can treat him with consent.

“I'm fine” he gripes. His stubbornness would almost be endearing if not for the dire straights he’s in. You’re not even sure how he’s still conscious with his levels looking this bad.

Trying to reason with him again, you countered “Jungwoo please. If you don’t let me do this, you’ll die”.

“Can't lose your precious experiment can you?”

You've definitely heard worse, been called worse. But for some reason the Terran's remarks wound you. You snap, “Jungwoo, I'm just following orders!” your practiced bedside manner forgotten. "I don't wanna have to force this on you".

His deep frown softens. He pauses. Then he weakly shifts up on the bed, “Can you at least take these electric- things off me?”.

You’re not supposed to, in fact it's a major violation of directives. But you'd hate to deny this meager request. Clearly he resents you already much to your displeasure. This might be a way to build better rapport with him. Pushing the glowing red 'Current Shut Off' button, you swiftly unhook his bindings.

He seems surprised at your compliance. He softly mutters, “thank you”. Jungwoo doesn’t maintain any eye contact, simply lets his gaze wander about the lab.

You prep the IV again, "You're welcome" you whisper. The air is stiff and awkward, the tension doubling from your little outburst. Avoiding eye contact, you clear your throat, “This will sting for a second, then I’ll put a bit of tape to hold the tube in place” you wipe down the pit of his elbow to sterilize it, “After which you can take a nap, or maybe I can bring you something to read”.

Feeling his eyes boring holes into your head isn’t helping your concentration. You gently wrap the tourniquet around what is exposed of his upper arm, making a mental note to fetch him a fresh set of clothes from your office. He’s still in his Terran garb but it’s certainly worse for wear. Loose threads poke out at odd angles and patches make up over 30% of the surface area. It makes you wonder what he might’ve done for work; what his life was like before he met this fate.

Once you’ve found the vein, you meet the young man’s gaze hesitantly. “I’m going to insert it now. You may want to close your eyes or look away”. He reluctantly turns his head and you stick his vein, he grimaces as you fasten the tube correctly and secure it.

You start the drip and plop down in your chair, “You should start feeling a bit further from death shortly”. Jungwoo lets out a breath he must've been holding. "Are you afraid of needles?" you questioned. He doesn't respond, doesn't even acknowledge your voice. Ouch.

The sound of a ship docking rumbles the walls of the clinic. Oh shit. The fear is strong but doesn't paralyze you as much as it used to. Quickly you spring into action. Jungwoo startles as you hurriedly re-fasten his restraints. "Lay down, and be asleep" you command.

"What?" he upper lip curls in defiance, "I'm not doing anything you-"

"Just- do it! Please" you plead desperately, "I'm trying to help you". You slam a hand on the fob to close his pod, careful not to bump the built-in IV.

As the mechanism clicks shut, the pressurized door to the lab slides open with a heavy clunk. You sink to your knees and bow towards the looming figure in the doorway. "Welcome, High Emperor" you gulp.

"Stand, fool." he barked. You comply, knees shaking slightly under your weight. At your full height, your head merely reaches his shoulder. Large stature and long limbs are not uncommon for his species of reptile-like humanoids. "Feeling nostalgic, were we?" he gestures to the window glass. The shutter still lifted providing ample view of Terra in the distance. "So, this is the boy" he continues before you can explain the window. He stalks toward the dormiopod as you hope beyond hope Jungwoo just listened. Long sharp nails scrape over the reinforced glass. "The last key to my destiny, lying in front of me" he whispers in rapture. He bellows over his shoulder, "He's not awake. Why?"

It's difficult to calm the tremble in your voice before speaking, "He, he was severely dehydrated and malnourished." You swallow as you gingerly approach, hovering behind. "His condition was unstable even after the acclimation period so he's being given additional IV support and-and rest for the best possible chance at waking".

He smiles almost nostalgically while circling the pod. You pray Jungwoo can hold on a little while longer. The Emperor never lingers in the lab for long. Typically you find out rather quickly what kind of ‘visit’ it will be. He is either pleased, or displeased by what you’ve been doing. He seems in awe of the Terran, but you know better. He's only thinking of how well his plan is unfurling.

Then the Emperor stops in his tracks suddenly. "Tell me doctor,” he leers, “For what reason are his electric restraints turned off?”. His forked tongue flicks with emphasis on each syllable.

Fuuuck. You say nothing, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “They are?” You choke. Playing dumb was not your best idea, and you know it. But there was precious little time to come up with anything else.

The reptilian beast is on you in a second. One of his strides equivalent to three human steps backward until your backside slams into a console. He looms over you, but doesn’t raise a hand yet. Rather letting his height and build do the intimidating. “So, I was right. You're having those kind of ideas again, yes?” He lifts your chin until you nod silently. He speaks gently in that way you loathe. The tone that signals he is most definitely displeased.

A large clawed hand collapses your windpipe. "I believe a reminder is needed" he sneers. Knobs and screens dig into your abdomen as you’re lifted pitifully up the monitor wall. Unable to breathe or fight back, your legs dangle above the ground and your hands paw helplessly at your neck. “You think I wouldn’t notice this little act of defiance?” he snarls. You’re thrown to the floor harshly. Coughing, and wheezing as you try to fill your lungs with oxygen. Your head radiates with pain from the impact.

Feebly you crawl, wanting to put some distance even just a few inches from your tormentor. You hate making it more 'fun' for him but survival instincts are a hell of a thing. Talons rip into your back as he drags you backwards by your lab coat, leaving large gashes behind which will surely stain the tattered white fibers.

A foot presses down on your shoulders, pinning you to the cold marble. “Does he remind you of your wretched little planet?” A blow to your stomach expels any wind your lungs may have regained. Another kick lands on your side, then your lower body, then your spine. He takes your arms and throws you against a shelf, empty test tubes raining down and shattering from the impact.

Unconsciously your limbs curl up to protect your head and core which leaves any other area vulnerable to his assault.

Finally as you fear you may pass out, the blows stop. He kneels down and threads a hand through your hair, forcing you to meet his gaze. His pupils merely black slits in an abyss of burning, fiery orange. “You find it ‘acceptable’ to disobey me?” he bellows.

“No. No- I'm sorry“ you croak. His sharp pointed finger drags across your cheek drawing small dots of red blood.

“Disrespect me again Doctor, and you will wish I’d never spared your 'sorry' life”. As swift as it occurred his grip all at once slips away. Unable to hold itself up, your crumpled body hits the ground with a thud.

He glides slowly toward the exit, hissing over his shoulder, “If you wish for the mercy of death; I suggest you complete the Dios serum quickly”. The metal clanks as it slams shut.

The sound of his ship taking off drowns out your whimpers. You clutch your midsection like a wounded animal. Quiet sobs escape despite efforts to stifle them. You cry not from pain, but from shame. It’s not the first time you’ve been battered like this.. But you’re ashamed and embarrassed Jungwoo witnessed this ‘confirmation’ of your helplessness. You suppose that was his reason for today’s punishment; drawing a wedge between you. Making sure you’re not having delusions.

Carefully you pull yourself up, hissing in pain as your body protests. You’ll have to survey the damage later in your quarters. For now you begin picking the glass out of your palms. Your brain aches and vision swims for a moment. Another concussion, great.

A faint tap resonates. You don’t spare a glance. Already knowing the source. His muffled voice calls out through the glass, “Doctor, you okay?”. Tears well in your eyes.

Maybe he was right. Maybe you have gone soft.

But why does it have to be this man? Who smells of home, shares your accent, grew up watching the same stars. He, who reminds you of memories you’d buried deep inside.

Why? Why does he have to be tortured by your own hands?

“I’m sorry,” he calls softly, “that I called you evil”.

“Don’t be.” You wheeze, managing to stand with an arm propped on the counter, “I deserve it”. Your feet shuffle through broken glass on your way to the medicine cabinet. Thankfully, neither of your legs feel fractured this time. Cabinets swing open to reveal a menagerie of bottles and jars. You find the painkillers you’re craving and pop them in your mouth. Hobbling towards the sink area, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You look like hell. But have definitely been worse. You cup your hands under the stream and take a swing, sending the white tablets down your throat. Now all that’s left to do is wait for them to kick in.

Finally, you spare a glance at Jungwoo. He looks back at you softly, as if you could break at any moment. It kinda pisses you off. Like he thinks you’re fragile or something. Grunting, you push off the counter. Using the forward momentum to make it over to your desk, you sit down in the chair to make movement easier on yourself. You push a few buttons and open the dormiopod.

“I need to take your IV out now” your stomach lurches as you turn around in your seat too quick. You’re definitely more concussed than you first thought. Which means you need to get this done quickly before your adrenaline runs out and you’re incapacitated. You grab a gauze pad from the drawer and prepare it above his elbow. Slowly you pull the IV out, careful to follow the same direction as it was inserted to not further injure the vein. He winces, biting his lip harshly to ground himself. You take a mental note of his fear of needles. You press the gauze pad firmly down onto the small hole to stop the bleeding. Content to sit in silence for several minutes.

“You don’t deserve it” he mutters.

You scoff, and look up at him confused, “What?”.

He clears his throat before continuing, “I’ve just met evil. You don’t deserve to be compared to that”. He dares to meet your gaze. His deep brown eyes project sympathy, kindness, and pity.

Now you’re even more irritated. “You don’t know anything,” you snap, “You have no idea. The things I’ve done? Things I’ve been a party to? It’s sick”. You can’t run away from the conversation unless you want him to bleed all over the place. Pressing down harder on the gauze, you will his veins to close up faster.

He’s undeterred by your lashing out, “Things you did because you wanted to? Or because you had to?”. The rhetorical question gives you pause but only briefly. “It’s never too late you know”, he says, “to do the right thing”.

That simmering anger bubbles over again. “Just stop talking” you hiss. He sounds just like your mother. Your mother. The memories threaten to stab at your chest again.

You’re slightly relieved when Jungwoo continues, despite the annoyance it prevents your head from spinning. “You’re Terran too”, you tilt your head in acknowledgement, “What sector?”.

You lift the gauze, but you still notice a bit of bleeding and so you press it back down. “I don’t want to talk about it” you rasp dismissively. He hums, but doesn’t attempt to pry again. You deem his insertion site acceptable and turn, slower this time, toward your desk to grab a bandage.

Jungwoo lets out a gasp, then a deep sigh. “What now?” You call over your shoulder, having a hard time finding the correct size for his small wound.

“Your back…” he trails off. For the first time, you recall that you’d been maimed tonight by the Emperor’s claws.

You reply dryly, “It’s fine. I’ll clean and dress it in my room”. At last you find the perfect plaster. Your chair squeaks with the snail-like pace you spin it at. Leaning over and placing the bandage, your body heavily protests. Before you can hold it you groan in pain and brace yourself on the edge of the pod. The urgent work is done, and now you can rest. Provided you can make it back to your quarters.

You stare down at the leather restraints for a moment. Then silently, you loosen his bindings once again. You’re not sure why, perhaps in solidarity you suppose. Yet another small act of defiance you allow yourself.

“See,” he faintly chuckles, “You’re nicer than you think”.

Eyes closing, you have no energy to argue and settle for a quiet “Shut the hell up”. There’s no bite to it, you barely mean it. Your body lurches again, and your limbs start to feel heavy. When you try to lift your head, the whole world reorients. As your vision fades to black, his is the last face you see.

Then you pass out.

Visions play across your unconscious. The last time you saw your parents, your little brother. Your graduation day from the academy, how proud you’d felt. The cheers and confetti erupting. Then you see your childhood home engulfed in flames. Piercing orange eyes offering no comfort, inflicting nothing but pain. Make your choice, he says, and you can save them.

Cold hands on your bare back wake you with a start. You attempt swatting them away and clawing at the perpetrator. “Hey! Relax- it’s just-” you make contact with some bit of flesh and he yelps, “Doctor it’s me! It’s Jungwoo”.

Oh. Your eyes flit open and you spot a faint pink line scratched down his neck. What you want to say is ‘sorry’ but what comes out is, “What the hell do you think you’re doing!?”.

He puts both hands in the air, bloody gauze in his left. “You fainted,” he chides, “I carried you here”.

A faint flush of humiliation dusts your cheeks. You grumble, “How did you leave the lab? Moreover find my room?”.

“Doctor… this is a very small station” he continues, “As for door access, your keycard was on your desk”. He’s resourceful, you’ll give him that. He hesitates but confesses, “I was cleaning your wounds, I tried to ask if I could but you were still unconscious. And I didn’t want them to get infected”. He finally lets his arms fall to his lap, not reaching for you again. “I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable” Jungwoo’s sincere apology rings oddly in your damaged ears.

Perhaps because you’re wounded, your walls are down. “No... it’s fine” you snip. In all honesty it’s hard to reach the cuts when they happen on your back. His help is slightly… appreciated. You attempt to feel your backside, groaning in pain as your torso protests the movement. “Are they still bleeding?”.

“Yes. Quite a bit” he sounds worried. Which means they’ll for sure need to be bandaged, but wrapping those on is such a pain. It might be to both your benefits if you just let him help you. He appears to be awaiting instructions regardless.

You sigh, “Go to the drawer underneath my desk, grab a few of those sterile foam patches and the white bandage roll that’s next to them”. He’s gone in a flash. When he returns, he’s got his arms full of about 20 patches in various sizes and two entire rolls. Before you can stop it, you giggle. “Jungwoo that’s… too many” a smile slightly crooks the corners of your mouth. “We need maybe three mediums, the orange ones”.

He nods and dumps his armload on a desk. You don’t have many possessions to begin with so it served no purpose; until now you suppose.

You lift your shirt enough so that the wounds can be seen. Long, thick gashes draw from just under your shoulder blade to your lower back. The chill of the canned air inside the station runs along your bare skin and gives you goosebumps. “Now just pull the tab on the patch and stick them so they cover the gash” you wince.

He sucks in through his teeth.

“What?”.

“Nothing” he turns back to fetch the supplies. “You’re black and blue, thats all” he mutters sadly, “looks painful”.

Your lips open and close in response. Opting for silence. Plastic rips and the cold foam presses into your flesh ever so gently. They lack adhesive but the wet blood allows it to mostly stick in place. You sigh in relief from the cooling sensation of the patch, “Now all that’s left to do is secure it with the bandage”. Shifting your body slightly, you peek almost demurely over your shoulder. “You’ll have to wrap it around my, um” you gulp and cast your eyes downward toward your abdomen. It's unlike you to be so bashful; then again it's also unlike you to allow a patient into your quarters.

He nods slowly and turns to get the roll of bandages, tips of his ears turning pink. You spin back around to face the wall so he can make sure they’re wrapped correctly. And also to hide your matching flush. As he approaches from behind, you add nervously, “And no… lingering”.

His breath warms your ear as he murmurs, “No funny business, I promise”. His arms wrap around your body, careful not to startle you. Jungwoo places the first ribbon of tape so softly you’d hardly have noticed if you weren’t watching intently. As he wraps it around your torso his fingertips graze lightly along the skin there. Goosebumps rise from the flesh. The sensation of a gentle brush feels so foreign, so intense after so long.

He seems to notice your reaction because he halts his motions. “You want me to stop?”.

“Don’t, this has to get done”.

Tiny beeps and the whir of the oxygenator become the soundtrack. Jungwoo loops the bandages several more times to ensure their security. Methodical in how he cares for your wounds. He’d have made a great doctor.

The minutes pass in total and absolute silence. You don’t care much for quiet. It only leaves space for discomfort to creep in. Yet each intrusive thought is interrupted by a warm touch and the stickiness of another line of bandage. Each pass of his graceful fingertips is soothing in a way that pangs your heart.

For the first time in years you feel… lonely. Emotions bubble up with every gentle touch. It’s too much, too ‘sweet’? No that word isn’t quite right. ‘Intimate’ seems more appropriate.

Too intimate. Suddenly you want nothing more than to be as far away from it as possible.

“That’s good enough.” Abruptly you shuffle off the bed and hobble over to the small closet compartment. You tear another lab shirt from its hanger and slip it over your head, your bruised muscles protesting under torn skin. “You can sleep in an empty barrack. Like I said it’s just us here”. He doesn't reply. Confused you turn in time to catch him staring at the photo taped to your wall. Three figures smile happily; a mother, father, and a small child. In the background, sapphire blue waves crash onto sandy shores. It's so vibrant that you can almost smell the salt and feel the heat of the sun.

"I've been here", his voice hitches, "With my sister". Your stomach twists and you feel like vomiting.

"Don't" you whisper. But he doesn't appear to hear you as he continues.

"Only… the water isn't blue there… anymore" he trails off, tracing the pads of his fingers over the azure horizon in the photo. “It hasn’t been for over a century” he whispers in disbelief.

“Get. Out” you growl.

Solemnly he turns away from the picture. "How long have you been up here?" he speaks softly as if coaxing a scared animal. His features shift at the grim realization.

Pity, it seems, is another trigger for you.

"Leave me alone!" you yell and grab the nearest object, a calculator, and aim for his head. He dodges, tripping over his own legs as he quickly exits and the door clicks shut behind him. Once your heaving breaths have evened you settle back down on your bed. Careful to lay on your side rather than your back. Solitude unfortunately gives you time to reflect. Another forgotten emotion, embarrassment, rears it's ugly head.

In your mind’s eye you picture Jungwoo hefting your limp body, despite his weakness, across the station. The way he probably clumsily searched the drawers for medical supplies. His gentle touch as he cared for your cuts. And finally his terrified look when you attacked him moments ago. Exasperated, you bury your face in your hands. It's been so long since you've had anyone to talk to, clearly you no longer know how. He could’ve left you to bleed out, and taken over the base. Honestly he would have good reason to. You ripped him away from his family, his life, his home.

Perhaps it’s that shred of humanity again. But maybe he does deserve some answers. What is he gonna do: Leave? Sell information? He’s a prisoner here just like you are. Just like the rest of them were. He saved you. Perhaps that’s worth some transparency.

As for your past… The memories are painfully repressed; never quite able to bring yourself to throw that smuggled photo away. You’ve spent so much time trying not to remember life on Terra. And up until now it didn’t matter. Of course he just had to be Terran. Why did patient zero have to be him?

The medicine starts taking its full effect, you can hardly lift a finger. You spot a familiar figure through the port hole in the door. He’s dragging some spare fire blankets towards the clinic dormiopod. “Must be cold in there” you mumble drowsily. Mentally you make a note to find him some better clothes to wear in the morning. Space is a much harsher climate compared to his native planet. Our native planet. For the first time in a long time, you sink into a dreamless sleep.

Carefully you sort the bio samples in the fridge. Trying to keep all sound to an absolute minimum. You hear fabric shuffling, and pause to glance over your shoulder. Jungwoo is still sleeping buried until three fire proof blankets. His chest rises and falls in a slow peaceful rhythm. How he can sleep like that even in this situation, is baffling. Dare you say amusing.

The corners of your lips draw upward against your will. You shift your focus back to the vials. H… I… J… this is where his will go when he wakes up. You’re not looking forward to that conversation considering his apparent fear of needles. Eventually you reach letter Z and slot the last one into place.

“Find what you’ll poison me with yet?” His voice is still raspy from sleep and overtly sarcastic.

You snort, “No this is bloo-“ you pause. Maybe it’s best to make sure he’s comfortable before bringing that up. “Come with me. We should fix,” you gesture to the scraps of fabric still hanging off his body, "that". Jungwoo follows orders lethargically. He takes his time to stretch and test his leg strength before he steps away from the pod. Everything falls quiet except the clink of footsteps against the hard metal floor.

Reaching the closet at the end of the hallway, you rummage through the bins and shelves. “They aren’t the most fashionable,” you grab a large set and pass it his way, “But they are warm. And better than what you have”. He shuffles awkwardly into the closet to change.

The tension from yesterday is eating you alive. Combined with the knowledge he is going to hate today's itinerary. You attempt to go numb as usual, to dissociate from the horror of your 'glorious purpose'. Jungwoo smacks his head against a closet shelf with a thump and a frustrated sigh. It prevents you from leaving reality. You have no energy to laugh; though in a another lifetime, and in different company perhaps you would've. Your perpetual guilt is the cherry on top.

This must be your divine punishment from whatever entity organizes the universe. Fate is indeed a cruel mistress.

The closet door opens and Jungwoo emerges looking just like any other cosmonaut. You chest and windpipe tightens. "Oh good, they fit you better than I expected" you clear your throat. The attempts at conversation are brushed off. His gaze is fixed on the pile of torn fabric in the corner, the last shreds of his home. Heavy silence lingers between you. Alas, there is work to be done and no more time for mourning from either of you. "Come with me. We can store those away later", coldly you proceed back towards the clinic area trusting he will follow.

He sits down on the pod with nothing behind his eyes. You pretend to write some notes in your book as you figure out what to say in this moment. It's unfortunate that you seem to care about his mood so much. "I'm sorry I threw stuff at you" you mumble, "and for screaming. It was... unprofessional".

"It's okay" he sighs.

"No. It's not". You roll the glass vial in your palm. "To tell you the truth I've been alone for a long time. I think I forgot how to say 'thank you'". Making eye contact is impossible, so you prep the needle instead and miss the tiny smile on Jungwoo's face. "I'll cut to the chase" you clear your throat, "I need a blood sample".

He goes pale and recoils. "Absolutely not" his eyebrows furrow angrily.

“What about a distraction?” you offer. His right brow raises. “While we take the sample. You can ask me whatever you want”.

“Anything at all?”

“Yes. You have my word”.

His furrowed brow relaxes and he unfold his arms with a heavy sigh. “You don’t have any truth serum lying around do you?”

You snort, “Are you implying I’m a liar?”

“A little bit yeah”. You can't fault him for that I suppose.

"I have no reason to lie you at this point but," you grab a step stool and make your way over to the display of medicines. On the very top shelf sits a bright yellow bottle of pills. Scopolamine. You stare at it for a minute or two. Eventually placing it in the Terran's palms. "This lowers inhibitions and makes it near impossible to lie".

He looks at you baffled, "You can just take these?".

You nod, "I will if it'll make you trust me".

The eye contact you share is intense. He's trying to read you, and you're trying to read yourself. He huffs, loudly, and unscrews the lid. He dumps a pill into his palm and holds it out. "Prove it" he demands.

You fetch a cup of water from the lab sink. The pearly white pill goes down easy. "Now then; let's prep the insertion site".

To his credit he complies; albeit very unhappily. He's reclined in the pod and his arm is strapped in for safety when you feel your body temperature rise sharply. You swallow into the hot flash knowing that it's a sign the effects of the scopolamine have begun. "You haven't asked me any questions yet, you know" you tear open an alcohol pad to clean his skin, "be honest: you weren't expecting me to call your bluff were you?".

Jungwoo exhales sharply through his nose, "I'm the one who asks the questions". You roll your eyes, taking his indignance to mean you'd hit the nail right on the head. He clears his throat, "So... you're from Terra?"

You securely hook the tube to the empty blood bag, "That's right."

"Why did you decide to work for the Emperor?"

Your mouth twitches instinctively to close off but the muscles soon melt as the 'truth serum' works it's magic, "I didn't decide actually. I started after I graduated from the academy; he made me and my colleagues all offers we could not refuse".

"And that being?"

All your movements cease but you're still unable to choose your own words. "He lit my house on fire and locked my family inside. If I didn't agree to his plan, they would be burned alive as I watched. I accepted and their lives were spared". You give him no countdown and quickly set the needle before he can flinch.

He squirms and it takes considerable strength to hold his arm in place. "Breathe Jungwoo" He groans in fear and pain. Your hand flattens his palm, "Squeeze my hand every couple seconds. The blood drip is too slow, we'll be here all day". He nearly crushes your fingers but at least he listens to your instructions.

"That's messed up, 'm sorry" he grits through clenched teeth.

"It is" that's all you can say. You hadn't been able to admit it after all these years, maybe the medicine was a good idea.

He gains control of his breathing and makes an effort to pump your hand less desperately. "You said- you said you had colleagues. Are they in a different station?"

'Well, no" it's a vague statement but truthful, "It's just me". He falls silent incredulously. You're not even convincing to your own ears.

"You're not telling me everything and we had a deal" his left arm hovers over the needle threatening to pull it out. "Did you kill those people?"

You panic. "Wait stop!" He makes to unhook the apparatus, and cocks his head in challenge.

"If you'd don't tell me I swear I'll rip this out". There's a chance he'd bleed to death if he did and both of you know it.

"Stop! Okay- yes there were others." He nods for you to continue. "I'm alone" Now that you've started you can't seem to stop. "I didn't kill them but" your breathing picks up, "it's all my fault".

A single tear drips unexpectedly from your face. His gaze softens. Jungwoo squeezes your hand three times in rhythm. To stimulate blood flow or to ground you, you're not sure. "What happened?" he probes gently in that soft voice of his.

There is no one else left alive who knows the fate of the crew members. Much less even their names. It's been hundreds of years of course; who would remember? You steel yourself and lean into the effects of the pill as you tell your story for the first time.

----

"I'm telling you, this plan would work" Sarah is on her soap-box again. It's by some miracle the entire crew fits in the uniform closet, the only room the engineers forgot to install cameras.

Mark rubs his neck nervously, "I don't know..." he looks over to you, "Captain?"

"Come on Mark have some balls" Sarah snides. "I'm done bowing down."

You rub your temples firmly. "Sarah stop giving Mark shit. That's a direct order". She scoffs in annoyance but lets up. "I agree it's risky. We all know the consequences of failure..." you trail off and the crew falls silent.

"I'm afraid too" Johnny states, "but I'm more terrified of living with what we would help create". Everyone nods in agreement including yourself. It's a wonder that you've been made the Captain of this crew when he's so eloquent all the time. "If we have a chance to stop it," he continues, "I'll take it. One hundred percent".

"Everyone agrees?" you confirm. Once again, all 8 crew members nod with conviction. You're ashamed to say you're still on the fence about this. As their leader, you should've quelled this mutiny plan months ago. But as their friend, you understand it. Until now you've always refused to entertain it, shutting any talk of it down instantly under the threat of time in isolation bay. Fearing what could happen to them. But as the serum nears completion you find it easier to want to make a final stand. "Okay then. Let's do it".

"Seriously?" a younger crew member, Riku's eye sparkle.

You solemnly nod. "It has to happen tonight during the progress report".

They make sounds of relief and nervous excitement. Sarah throws a hand on your shoulder, "I knew you had guts in there somewhere Captain".

You outline Sarah's plan: First, everyone grabs a syringe and Johnny grabs the chloroform rag and stuffs it in his pocket. While the young Emperor makes his rounds to each station, he will knock out a guard and steal his blaster. After that, he sticks up the remaining officer and commandeers the royal ship. When the ship is started, everyone takes out their syringes and injects the large lizard creature to stun him. You all make a break for the transport bay; and the Captain hits the decompression on the way out rendering any potential Dios serum research useless.

Night falls slower than ever and the station is buzzing with anxiety. Captain's duties stipulate the base must be cleaned and organized: or else. You begin organizing the uniforms to ease your mind and as to not raise suspicions on the Emperor's part. 10 minutes to go before he arrives.

Folding a pair of trousers, the sound of a docking ship piques your ears. He's early. As you scramble to stack the last of the clothes something falls out of a pocket with a 'clink'. You swipe the small object and examine it. It looks to be a battery of some sort? No bigger than a pea. You stuff it in your pocket for now and race to the main clinic bay. Soon enough whatever is missing a battery won't matter anymore. Your filled syringe is in your pocket and it's time to do or die.

Everyone is lined up already and you scramble in at the last possible moment. The doors hiss open. Heavy footsteps rock the floor as everyone bows deeply. "Greetings High Emperor. An honor for your eminence to arrive early-" a shot rings out. Your right ear rings sharply. Before you can stop yourself you face the direction of the sound.

Sarah lies on the ground, bleeding to death, on the lab floors.

The crew gasps and whimpers next to you. You're pulled on your feet forcefully. A clawed hand grips into your flesh but you feel nothing. The mantra of your mind replaying the shot over and over in your shock.

The wind is blown from your lungs from the impact of your back against the Dormiopod. Like an animal, you flail your arms to avoid capture but fail against his sheer strength. The restraints are secured first around your wrists and then your ankles. Your crew are on their knees with arms tied behind their backs. An audience for what will likely be your death. "It's okay" you tell them frantically, "whatever happens its okay".

"Shut your mouth you wretch" you hear the slap almost before you feel it. Your eyes come back into focus on a yellow bottle dangling in front of your nose. "You are going to take this or am I going to shove it down your throat" he growls.

You recognize the pills from a banned pharmaceutical text book at the academy. All of your friends are watching, loaning you their bravery. Perhaps that's how you manage to spit in his face the first time, "Go to hell".

The Emperor laughs loudly, truly enthused by your comment. It makes you feel like vomiting. "You are already in Hell" he sneers. The guard's rifle clicks as its pressed to Riku's head.

Instantly your resolve crumbles. "No!" you cry out. Your arms and legs thrash against the restraints, trying anything to just get to him. "I'll take them okay. I'll take them" you mutter through tears, "Don't kill him please. Don't hurt anyone else. It was my plan they just went along with it".

The Emperor sighs dramatically and dumps several pills into his hand. He cups it over your mouth until you swallow each one. "See," he begins languidly, "This is why you need these. Because you have a habit of lying to me don't you?". His tail drags down your leg and you fear the absolute worst is about to happen. Instead he merely flicks open your pocket and gingerly takes out it's contents to show everyone in the room. The syringe, and the battery. "Firstly, you are all fools to have believed these could have paralyzed me." He makes a show of crushing the syringe and sprinkling the glass onto the floor. "Secondly, 'Captain'" he purrs with an eerie smile. It's terrifying. Your blood runs cold as he caresses your hair, "I want to thank you for giving me everything I needed to prove Sarah was the rotten seed".

He holds up the battery and only now you begin to understand... "We were bugged" you blurt.

"Yes, see how much more clever you are?" he coos and twirls your hair around his finger. "I made you the leader of this little clan for a reason. Though if you had just continued to do as you were instructed no on would have to die".

You're going to vomit. You recounted the entire plan, verbally. And agreed to it. Right next to the bug. Sarah is dead because of you.

The reptilian can see the flush beginning and knows the drugs are taking effect. "Now naturally as ironic as it is these little things," he throws the bug at the wall and it bursts into tiny pieces, "don't have much battery life and I only heard enough to execute Sarah" he gestures to where the guards are already staging her body near the waste port.

"Which is why you are going to tell me everything" he whispers as his eyes turn into slits.

And you do. Against your will. But the effects of just one pill are enough to render your lips loose. Three was a death sentence to your mind. You can hardly think at any given moment and the words that escape slowly become more and more slurred. All the while the Emperor plays with your hair and softly probes. 'Who was the hijacker?' 'Which one of you is the most loyal to me?' 'Where would you go if you could leave this planet?'. His questions seem to be endless.

Finally, it appears he has heard enough. He gestures to his men who begin carting your colleagues, friends, away to the ship bay. "Wh-where are you taking them?" you choke.

Johnny meets your gaze and smiles warmly as he mouths 'I forgive you'.

A guard jabs his side with a rifle to get him to continue moving.

You lift your body as if you could follow, only for your chest to be pushed down again. "Your friends are going to maximum security working facility perfect for those disloyal to me", he sneers, "You, however? I have something special in mind for you".

The lid to the dormiopod begins closing with a whirr. Panicking, you put all your strength into loosing your bonds to no avail. As they electrify, you are helpless to your position and the lid snaps shut.

The last thing you remember is the smell of strawberries and then- darkness.

---

"When I woke, I was confused at first" you wipe your eyes with the back of your free hand. "Everything seemed normal, peaceful actually, and all the cameras were off. I spent days turning the place upside down to find more bugs but there were none. As I mentioned, they take up too much power to be left on long term".

The blood bag is nearly full and you prepare to remove the needle from Jungwoo's arm. "After a week the Emperor came to visit, only he seemed taller and bigger than before. He asked me how long I believed I'd been asleep. I said perhaps a year or maybe two" you scoff.

Gently, you push Jungwoo's harrowed face away from the insertion site so you can take the needle out. You take a deep breath and slowly pull it from his flesh, applying pressure firmly.

"How long?" he asks knowingly.

"One hundred and fifty years, Jungwoo" you state dryly, "My punishment is isolation. There is no one alive who remembers who I am. Much less even knows I'm up here. And the serum still needed to be finished so, here I am". You continue to hold pressure with your left hand and attempt to untangle your fingers from Jungwoo's.

He refuses to let go. "You've been alone up here, with no one to talk to for that long?" his voice drips with morbid disbelief. Perhaps it's another effect of the pill but you'd don't seem to mind the attention this time.

"I've only been awake again for 3 years but not entirely alone" you attempt to pull away again but he laces your fingers together. You sigh, "You need a bandage" and finally he lets your hand go. You shake out the cramps in your digits and grab a small pink gauze. You position it over the wound and secure it with bandage.

Now that it's over, you slump in your chair emotionally exhausted. With nothing left to lose, you tell him the full extent of your work. "Most of the people they send up here as test subjects are violent and unfit for society. Of course they aren't happy with it and would rather be in prison than be injected with chemicals. Many of them attacked me or attempted to, though I don't blame them honestly" you wave a hand toward the blood vials A through Z, "Every trial ended the same way. And the Emperor always reacted the same way. I'd get a beating. But each casualty led me closer to what we needed. Closer to you". Thirsty from all this talking, you refill your cup at the sink and grab a second for Jungwoo.

"Closer to me?" he accepts the drink after the leather straps are loosened.

"Yeah, the perfect host" you stare off into space as you slowly sip the water, "Male, blood type AB, and a natural passive immunity to mycotoxins. You were the only one. Bad luck huh?" you chuckle dryly.

He stands from the pod and you give him a curious look. He walks over toward your spot on the counter and does the last thing you'd ever expected.

"After everything he's done to you, you're still human". He wraps his arms around you tightly, tucking your head into his neck. Your body is stiff, unfamiliar with the gesture, but he only hugs tighter. "I forgive you" he whispers.

For the first time in over 153 years, you cry in someone's arms.

#nct jungwoo

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