the end of being alone (7)
here we go :)
warnings: misunderstandings, violence, major character injury, threats, characters being assholes, dumb jokes, malicious teenager behavior, and non-explicit mentions of gore, murder, captivity, illness, dehumanization, blood, and vomit (lmk if i missed any!)
--
The waypoint station was on the very edge of a mostly-desolate star system, the majority of the terraformed settlements having been abandoned due to inhospitable terrain, raiders, or worse.
The specific private port entrance that Logan’s contact had given them led to a worn out envirosphere that looked as though it was one wrong move from detaching from the station entirely. It was the sort of unregulated, shady place that any savory ‘farer would avoid if they had any other choice.
There wasn’t a moment of hesitation between the three of them before they sent the docking request for their ship. They had committed to the decision, and there was no time to waste.
The good news was that Virgil hadn’t worsened significantly during the journey. That was the only good news.
Roman couldn’t help the dark thoughts that stirred at the back of his mind; he was well aware that this was the perfect setup for a trap, and they had no backup to rely on if the encounter took a turn for the worse. Humans were dangerous, but they were also profitable, enough that more unsavory types wouldn’t hesitate to take the risk if it meant obtaining one.
His armor had long since been strapped on, and now he took the trouble to arm himself with one of his more durable blades. He didn’t typically need more than his own claws and scales to deter his opponents, but the current situation certainly warranted the extra precaution.
Logan and Patton had listened to his orders and waited for him to take the lead, but they were both visibly antsy as he stepped past. He felt the same worried impatience that gripped his shipmates, but forced himself to move slowly as he disembarked with his ears pricked and his scales half-spiked. He couldn’t afford to make a mistake, not with so much on the line.
If Logan’s contact was seeking out rumors of Humans to sell them off to the highest bidder, they needed to know before they said anything that might give away Virgil’s presence on their ship.
Roman might not be as clever with words or people as Logan or Patton, but he was the strongest of the three of them, with reflexes honed by years of all sorts of battle. If things seemed off, he would have the best chance of making it back to the ship so they could flee.
In theory, anyhow.
He couldn’t see anyone else laying in wait, but Logan’s contact hadn’t approached the ship or even walked out onto the open dock itself. Instead, he had to make the trek across to the inner hatch to get close enough to speak with them. His sword remained sheathed at his side, ready to draw at a moment’s notice.
The contact was a Meeska, a mammalian species that was identified most obviously by the long stripe of wiry pink fur that ran from their long snout down their back all the way to the tip of their branch-like tail. They took a single step forward, nose tipping up and down as they made a whuffling noise that Roman wasn’t versed enough in their body language to interpret.
“Are you… ‘Disneyland’?” Roman asked, trying not to struggle too visibly with the pronunciation. Logan had warned that it was undoubtedly an alias, likely one from a different culture entirely since it used phonetic combinations that didn’t exist in most Meeska native languages.
The stranger bobbed their head in his direction for a moment longer before actually deigning to answer. “Depends.”
Not precisely the promising start Roman had hoped for. “On what?”
“On you,” the stranger answered promptly, leaning to the side a bit to peer down the open entry bay to the Mindscape. “And what your little crew has come for.”
“We’re seeking information,” Roman replied, struggling to keep a wary growl from escaping as he stepped pointedly in front of their line of sight. “If you can’t provide it, kindly don’t waste any more of our time.”
Another whuffle, this one distinctly unimpressed. “Never said I can’t provide it.” They continued before Roman could bite out a retort, their words rapidfire. “The message spoke of Humans. What kind of information are you seeking about Deathworlders? How they kill things? What sedatives have a chance of working? Where to find one? Or maybe where to find the highest bidder for one?”
With each increasingly horrifying question, Roman’s scales ruffled up further and further, until he resembled a living pincushion. He was showing too much, getting riled too easily, he knew, but he couldn’t help the flare of fury.
After half a lifetime of being seen as ‘rare’, Roman had already known just how easy it was for someone to be reduced from a person to a prize in the darker corners of the galaxy. It was bad enough having to hear such speculation about himself or his crewmates. But being forced to think about phrases like ‘the highest bidder’ in conjunction with the bright-eyed child they’d grown so attached to? That was truly intolerable.
They would find somewhere else, someone else who knew how to help their kid. There had to be some soul out there that could see a Human without thinking of all the best ways to hurt them for profit.
“You don’t have anything we want,” he grit out, taking a step back with a threatening rattle of his scales. “Coming here was a mistake.”
“You can say that again!” a voice agreed cheerfully from behind him.
Roman felt dread ripple down his spine as he began to twist around, only for something hard to swing against the side of his head with enough force to make his vision instantly go white with pain. He barely registered crashing to the ground through the agony, clutching at his head as though he could hold what felt like the fragments of his skull together.
“Huh, the horns really do wire straight into the nerves on this one!” that voice continued, the words nothing more than gibberish in Roman’s ears. “Dibs on keeping the skull when we kill this guy!”
—
Logan had never been so grateful for having two sets of arms as he was now, forced to wrangle his crewmate into staying put with one pair of arms even as he used the other pair to rapidly navigate the emergency signal broadcast settings on his comm.
Patton was furious and terrified in equal measure, his struggling only held back by an unwillingness to hurt Logan’s delicate exoskeleton in the process.
Logan couldn’t blame him, not with the horrific scene that had just unfolded before their eyes.
They could only see a fraction of the dock from their position on the very top of the ship’s entry ramp, and so neither of them had spotted the new Human in time. It was only the horrible animal cry that Roman had made that warned them, prompting them to lunge a few more steps forward, far enough to spot the original contact quickly slipping away, replaced by a new figure towering over their friend’s collapsed body.
The stranger was like a warped reflection of the kid they’d grown to love, endowed with the same long bipedal limbs, fleshy skin, and uncanny eyes. The instinctive horror took a moment to wrangle down, but the longer Logan looked, the more differences he spotted, until his mind accepted that the two Humans didn’t resemble each other much at all.
The stranger was much paler, with more hair in different places, and had strange metal tokens embedded in several different places along their face. They stood upright at a much taller height than Virgil, wore bright green clothing splattered with what Logan could only hope was paint, and currently had a heavy metal sewage pipe slung casually over their shoulder. Most unnerving of all was their vicious grin, stretching wide across their face as though to split it in half.
At their feet, Roman was still down, grounded by the blow in a way they’d never seen before. His body was curling in on itself in a reflexive protective gesture that Logan only recognized from once witnessing Roman tossing and turning in the midst of a nightmare.
Unfortunately for the three of them, the current predicament was all too real.
The Human observed Roman’s fallen form with their head tilted at a painful-looking angle, never losing that unsettling smile. “Dibs on keeping the skull when we kill this guy!”
Logan wasn’t catching every word, since the Human apparently only bothered to translate every other sentence, but he’d understood the threat in their last eager announcement just fine.
“‘If we kill this guy’is the phrase you’re looking for there,” a new voice replied in flawless Common, their tone dry as desert stone. “A slip of the tongue, I’m sure. After all, our guests are innocent until proven guilty, as they say back home.”
Logan clutched Patton tighter, and even the Ampen paused his desperate wriggling upon hearing how close that other voice was. Roman had clearly checked the area as he’d left the ship— how had not one, but two hostilestrangers managed to corner them like this?
All those times Virgil had managed to sneak up on them, and Logan had only ever noted the instances as another example of a child’s harmless mischief. Suddenly, it felt like a horrendous oversight that he hadn’t thought twice about the implications of a Human displaying the behavior of an ambush predator.
There was a nasally hum as the green Human rocked back on their heels. “If we’re going by back home rules, they also sometimes say ‘forget a trial, let’s round up all these rich nobles and chop their heads off for treason’!”
“Oh, please. That’s all ancient history,” the second voice countered, smooth as polished amber. “These days, we have a corrupt system to neatly disappear those who inconvenience those in power. Much more convenient that way, hmm?”
The green Human nodded in sudden understanding. “Dibs on the skull after we disappear this guy with the power of incredible violence!”
At the lip of the entry ramp, another figure stepped into view with a sigh. “Yes, Remus, I understood you the first time.”
This Human was shorter, with shorter hair and a large, deep red mark that spilled across one side of their face like a stain. Nearly all of their body was concealed by dark clothing, but unlike Virgil’s own attempts at camouflage, there were several bright yellow accents along the hems and fasteners of the outfit. Logan couldn’t help be reminded of warning coloration, though Humans weren’t poisonous, of course.
Probably.
If fate was kind.
(Stars, he hoped Humans weren’t poisonous.)
The Human turned their head. Logan held perfectly still as that sharp-edged gaze peered up into the ship, hoping that their vision wasn’t keen enough to spot the two of them there. There was no point in trying to flee now. Some Humans apparently had worse vision than others, but he knew that Virgil’s attention could be drawn by even the smallest twitches of movement.
“We know you’re in there,” the shorter Human called out, their gaze settled so firmly in their direction that Logan suspected they’d already been spotted. “Why don’t you come out and speak properly with us? We do happen to know a thing or two about Humans, after all.”
“Ooh, are we doing fun facts?” The green Human— Remus?— perked up. “I heard Humans regenerate all the cells in their stomach lining over every three to four days to avoid being dissolved from the inside out by stomach acid strong enough to corrode metal!”
Logan firmly resisted the habitual urge to start mindweaving the information, deeply perturbing as it might be.
“The second half of that fun fact is that yours truly can vomit on command,” Remus continued in a faux-informative tone. “What say you, Deedee, do we want a demonstration?”
The last thread of Patton’s tenuous restraint snapped, and he twisted far enough in Logan’s arms that there was no holding on to him any longer. He landed with an Ampen’s standard soft impact and immediately barreled down the ramp to streak towards Roman, emitting a whistle-shriek so shrill that even the Humans winced at the noise.
Logan tried to follow, but he was by far the slowest of the crew. By the time he’d reached the bottom of the ship’s entry ramp, Patton had already scurried well within reach of both Humans on his way to Roman.
The shorter human only watched the Ampen scurry by, blinking idly as though the sight didn’t concern them at all.
Remus, on the other hand, immediately bent their knees and adopted a slightly hunched posture, their arms crooked at either side of them, their eyes locking on Patton’s approach like a death hound about to pounce.
Logan felt fear sweep through him like a flood, seeping in to fill every corner of his body. “Patton, stop!”
Patton didn’t so much as hesitate, and neither did Remus. The moment Patton got near enough, the Human darted forward and feinted as though they were about to stomp right on top of him.
Patton swerved away from the motion right into range of Remus’s waiting arm, and a hand clamped onto his scruff and hoisted him into the air with ease. He was forced to hold still, the discomfort threatening to turn into feather-shredding pain the moment he started struggling.
“Let me go!” he shouted, still not nearly as scared as he should have been. “Roman! Roman?!”
“P’tn...?” Roman mumbled, limbs twitching briefly as though that was all they could manage. He didn’t seem to be entirely conscious.
“Roman!” Patton sounded close to tears, reaching out as though he wanted to check that Roman really was still breathing. He’d clearly been fearing the worst.
“Damn, Teakettle.” Remus hefted Patton up higher, inspecting him curiously. “You’re pretty bold for someone the size of a Furby.”
Patton fluffed up even further, looking utterly furious, and Logan hurriedly lifted the hand with his comm in a silent bid for attention.
To the shorter Human, who was only a few lengths away, the gesture was near impossible to miss. He met their stare directly, one tap away from sending an emergency beacon out.
“Don’t hurt them,” Logan said, forcing his voice calm and even, “or I will be forced to reveal this location to the nearest Council-ordained authorities.”
Remus shouted something that sounded like, “boo, you narc,” but Logan kept his focus on the far more immediate threat. They watched him back with a calculating glint in their narrowed eyes.
“Now, now. I don’t think there’s any need for such extreme measures,” the shorter Human said, lifting their hands in a gesture Logan didn’t recognize. “None of us would enjoy the aftermath of a signal like that going out.”
Logan didn’t doubt that. If he really did give away their location, he suspected that the three of them were as good as dead where they stood. Not because all Humans were inherently murderous, but because when one was forced to live as a fugitive, witnesses were liabilities.
“Eh, I’d probably still have some fun,” Remus offered, easily confirming that potential outcome. “New skulls for the skull collection!”
Which was why it was all the more strange that the two had revealed themselves in the first place.
“Did you intend to kill us from the beginning?” Logan asked outright, blatantly ignoring Remus’s proclamation. He didn’t move his finger from the comm interface. “If we are doomed either way, I would prefer to make life harder for those who committed our senseless murders.”
Something about the Human’s expression seemed to sharpen, focus intensifying as though their attention had caught on an interesting puzzle.
“Senseless?” they echoed, tone deceptively light. “Would it really be senseless? Do you truly believe that we wouldn’t have a very compelling reason to make this little crew disappear? Or are you claiming that we wouldn’t find some particularly valuable cargo on board that little ship of yours?”
“That is exactly what I’m claiming,” Logan retorted, because there was no world in which it would be acceptable to refer to Virgil as cargo.
Then, he paused, processing the implications of the accusations being hurled at them. As though looking at a webweave from a new angle, the entangled strings of the situation before him began to take on a different shape entirely.
Logan had chosen to reveal a few key details about Humans when he’d reached out to this contact, in the hopes of proving they weren’t chasing rumors about cryptids or trying out some practical joke. It seemed that he’d ended up in trouble of the opposite kind; these two were taking things all too seriously.
“In that case,” the Human spoke with a voice like the steel of a trap snapping shut, “you’ll have nothing to worry about while I take a little tour.”
Patton made a sharp warble of alarm, and Logan couldn’t disagree with the sentiment. The urge to stop them, to keep them away from Virgil no matter the cost, was nearly overwhelming. Their kid was the most vulnerable he’d ever been, and these two were both total unknowns and opponents they couldn’t hope to defeat. Rational thinking couldn’t provide its usual relief in circumstances like these.
Still, he forced himself to keep still as the Human approached, bypassing him and beginning to trek up the entry ramp. If he refused to allow them to see Virgil, they would have every reason to fear that the Mindscape crew was just another band of smugglers looking to get rich off of a captured Human’s suffering. He had to take this risk, or else—
“Wait,” Logan spoke before the thought had even fully settled in his mind. He turned around to see the Human had stopped and turned to face him with an air of smugness, as though they had known he would stop them and now anticipated him revealing they were right and trying to bargain.
Of course, that wasn’t why Logan had changed his tune. There was simply another important factor that he needed to be honest about.
After a moment of hesitation, he finally forced the words out. “Virgil is sick with an illness we can’t identify. I don’t know if it is transmissible. If you go in without taking precautions, your lives could be at risk as well.”
This was one factor the crew hadn’t had to worry about. The chances of a virus being able to adapt across species were extremely low even for those born in the same star system. For a Deathworlder species disconnected to the galaxy, infecting aliens from other quadrants was practically impossible.
A Human infecting another Human, on the other three hands, was entirely plausible.
The Human’s eyebrows lifted slightly. It seemed that they hadn’t expected that.
“Ohoho, I’ve always wanted to catch a plague!” Remus announced, somehow having crossed the floor to reach their ship without Logan hearing. They shoved Patton directly into the other Human‘s arms and mimed rolling up their non-existent sleeves. “Permission to call their bluff, Cap’n Janabanana?”
The unnamed Human visibly fumbled for a moment, struggling to find a way to hang onto Patton, who had only squawked distractedly at the sudden transfer. He was still paying more attention to Roman’s continued breathing than his current position as hostage.
“Fine,” the other Human— Janabanana…?— bit out, irritated. “Feel free to run into an obvious trap and get yourself killed.”
The words were scathing, borderline cruel, but Remus only cackled excitedly as they bounded up into the ship. “I always do!”
Up close, Logan realized that despite being far taller and less scrawny than Virgil, the two of them actually didn’t fully resemble the adult Humans he had seen when sharing memories with Virgil. The hallmark traits of youth that they’d identified on Virgil were fading but visible on the Human before him, particularly when their calculating composure had slipped.
The awkward but not malicious way they held onto Patton was oddly disarming, after how threatened Logan had felt throughout this entire encounter. Remus’s rambunctiousness, too, strongly reminded him of an Ampen fledgling’s endless energy and enthusiasm.
…Was it possible that their fates were currently in the hands of a pair of Human adolescents, only somewhat older than Virgil himself?
Logan spent a few moments attempting to formulate a subtle but probing question that might confirm or contradict his suspicions, but before he finished, Remus reappeared at the top of the hatch. For the first time, the Human wasn’t smiling.
“Janus, you’re gonna wanna come in here,” they said, brow furrowed. “There’s a kid.”
The other Human’s face did something strange before smoothing out again. “Janus” didn’t ask for any further explanation before striding up the ramp to go see for themself.
Logan cast one more glance back at Roman, who was beginning to stir, before hurrying to follow. “If the illness is contagious—,”
Remus snorted obnoxiously, a sound that Logan had only heard Virgil make while laughing. “The kid has a fever and a whole lotta mucus, not the bubonic plague,” they answered scornfully. “It won’t kill us to catch a bug.”
Logan’s spines flushed with poison, a reflexive response to the sudden jump in his blood pressure, the bubble of desperate hope that swelled in his abdomen.
“It won’t kill him?” he echoed urgently, speeding up his steps further in an attempt to catch up and read Remus’s expression, figure out if they were joking or not. “You’re absolutely sure? He’ll recover from this?”
Janus cast a cold glance at him from the corner of their eye. “If treated properly, most viral illnesses aren’t fatal to us. No need to worry overly much about the state of your merchandise.”
Logan jolted as though struck, but Patton was the one who snapped back from where he was still held aloft.
“Don’t call him that!” he shrilled, feathers ruffling and bristling up even more expansively.
“Patton,” Logan managed through his apprehension, because screaming at the Deathworlder that currently had one’s easily-shattered rib cage between their hands was one of the worse ideas out there.
Patton refused to back down, but Janus didn’t snap back or even tighten their grip. They only switched their gaze between the two of them as if trying to measure something by their expressions alone.
They reached the medbay, and Logan felt that familiar flare of dread in his spine as he passed through the entryway, the lurking fear that the next time he checked on their kid, Virgil would have succumbed. The other Humans’ heads both turned to stare at him when he bustled forward, body language shifting into something tense, but he didn’t have the attention to spare as he checked Virgil’s vitals and adjusted the bedding that had been pushed away by his tossing and turning.
The Humlilt against his side snuffled slightly, and Logan moved the blanket over it, hoping it would remain asleep for this particular encounter. The creature had proven itself defensive over Virgil even at the best of times, and Logan didn’t want to see what would happen if it attacked either of the new Humans.
“You claim it isn’t fatal, but he’s been like this for longer than any of us would be able to survive,” he said, turning to face the newcomers but unable to prevent his lower arms from repetitively smoothing Virgil’s hair down behind him. “We came seeking information on Human biology. If you are willing to tell us what we need to do to save him, we would offer anything we have.”
“What, he didn’t come with an instruction manual?” Remus asked, their earlier amusement shifted into something darker, more antagonistic. “Maybe you should have found a more reputable seller for your little exotic pet. They had all sorts of creative recommendations for restraints and punishments in my pamphlet. Not that any of them worked!” They punctuated the words with a cackle.
Patton inhaled visibly, but before he could retort, Janus dropped him onto a nearby seat.
“Tell me more about these theoretically offers,” they instructed, still far more reserved than their companion. “What is the knowledge worth to you?”
“I don’t know what you want,” Logan started, his mind quickly spinning up possibilities, “but there are multiple options. In terms of value, we have savings, and enough personal valuables on board that could be sold off. Our occupations aren’t particularly lucrative, but we do turn a profit. If you’re willing to accept payments made over time, a considerably higher price could be set.”
He paused for a moment, before deciding that secrecy would prove useless here. There was no point in hiding trump cards that wouldn't work. If the Humans wanted to kill them, they would die. “My blood is also highly valued as a poison on many black markets. I am not opposed to providing you with as much as I can part with and still survive.”
“If all four of us end up alive, it doesn’t matter what we have to pay,” Patton chimed in, climbing up the frame of the medbay bed to settle defensively between Virgil and the rest of the room. “Objects are replaceable, lives are not. Especially not the life of a fledgling.”
Both Humans were uncharacteristically quiet for a long moment.
“Well, Janny?” Remus finally asked, earning a sour glance. “You’re the expert, Lord of the Lies.”
The shorter Human considered them with those sharp eyes for a little while longer, before closing them with an airy sigh.
“Fine, fine. I suppose we'll try. Go grab the one you battered and pay Mi’khii for the tipoff,” they instructed briskly, turning on their heel. “I’ll collect our things.”
Remus skipped out of the room without asking any questions, and Patton and Logan shared a worried glance.
“We’re commandeering your ship. Make whatever preparations necessary for takeoff,” Janus commanded, before pausing to look over their shoulder. “And if your intentions aren’t as charitable as they seem, consider doing us all a favor by confessing before we leave. I’m afraid those who endanger our home aren’t granted the mercy of a quick death, and I do so hate to clean up the mess afterwards.”
Logan’s lower arms began to weave back and forth, a nervous tic he hadn’t done in ages. “We only require information to help restore Virgil’s health. Revealing your home to us isn’t necessary.”
Janus smiled without teeth, the expression devoid of warmth. “Oh, this trip isn’t for you. In fact, if you prefer, we would be happy to take ‘Virgil’ by himself, and you’ll never have to see him again. But if you are as attached as you claim, you’ll have to do more than talk to prove your intentions. Are you really giving up already?”
“No, no.” “Of course not!” Logan and Patton insisted at the same time.
Janus hummed dubiously, but didn’t ask again. Even if he had, their answer wouldn’t change.
Whatever it took to keep their kid safe.
