#the dystopian space station au

[innytoes]

“You got me a stocking?” - “Of course, you’re family.” For either Reggie & Ray or an AU where the Molina family adopts Reggie, please!

For my fourth and final version of this prompt, I decided to go full sci-fi dystopian AU because of course I did.

"Reassignment assessment, Reginald Peters, written portion." The computer said as he sat down at the terminal. He'd just finished the physical scan, and from the way some of the squares had coloured orange, it wasn't going great. Probably his weight and blood work, if he had to guess.

"Um, I can't... I can't write," he told the terminal. "Or read." Immediately, the keyboard disappeared, and a little speaker appeared next to the questions, with a microphone icon replacing the keyboard. He took a deep breath, and started the questionnaire.

After his dad had been caught stealing, he'd pretty much flushed away any credits their family unit had down the drain. Mom had managed to save herself by taking a blood alcohol test, proving she hadn't partaken in any of the stolen goods (though Reggie was pretty sure that was just dumb luck). She had managed to stay in her job in the kitchens, reassigned to the bunks there, instead of being sent to the jail like Dad.

But the lack of credits did mean there was no way she could keep Reggie on. And Reggie had been going to work with Dad, cleaning, since he was seven, so he couldn't be reassigned to the Kitchen bunks.

But all the credits he earned were transferred straight into the family account to pay for food and rent, so it wasn't like he had any credits of his own to rent out a room somewhere. Carl had kept him on until he was transferred to Reassessment, let him take over Dad's route as well as his own, so he'd managed to earn enough to keep himself fed while he stayed in the Cleaning bunks.

But now he had to prove he was worth keeping on permanently. Or get lucky enough that one of the better paying departments would take on a scrawny thirteen year old who couldn't read or write and wasn't deemed bright enough to get a scholarship for school when he was little.

He spoke as clearly as he could, knowing the voice-to-text AI wasn't perfect. He laid out his work history, his references (which was really only Carl). There were some weird questions at the end as well. Like his favourite colour, and his favourite class. Probably because he was a minor. He tried to keep the bitter upset tone out of his voice in case it messed with the AI when he answered. "I don't know." And: "I don't go to school."

The last question, the one about what he wanted for his future, he wasn't exactly sure how to answer. "I hope to stay on and work my way up at the Cleaning Department, or perhaps get transferred to the Kitchens," he said.

Except when he let go of the mic button to submit his answer, a flashing yellow warning came on the screen. Apparently the facial recognition had flagged the answer as dishonest, would he like to try again?

He tried again. And again. Finally, frustrated, he said: "I want to earn enough credits to be able to afford my own rooms, in whatever Department that will take me, and maybe even get enough to be able to afford a dog, or a hamster." He'd never told anyone about that dream, but it was at least flagged as truthful, and before he could edit or resubmit his answer, the test declared he was finished, and to please move on to the next room to wait for reassignment.

It was the first time he'd been alone, had his own rooms, since his dad was caught. Reggie reveled in the quiet, taking the standard issue meal from the Fabricator at set times, and catching up on some much needed sleep. After a few days, though, he got a little antsy, so when he computer terminal finally beeped that he'd been reassigned, he was thrilled. He quickly washed his face, tidying the bed and getting dressed, stepping out ready to meet Carl, or maybe even the head of the Kitchens.

Except it wasn't Carl. It was a family. A mom, a dad, a girl about his age, and a little boy. They looked like the kind of family that had enough credits to send their kids to school without scholarship credits, wearing non-standard-issue clothes and cool shoes and even jewelry.

Before he could tell them they probably had the wrong room, and that the orphanage was down the hall, the woman said: "Reginald? It's so nice to meet you!"

So it wasn't a mistake. Reggie stayed quiet as they lead him away from the Reassignment wing, up to levels and past parks where he'd only dreamed of being promoted to clean, until they arrived at their unit. Inside was big, but it still looked cozy, like a real home. The walls all had non-standard colours, there was art displayed, the furniture was non-standard issue.

"Come on, let me show you your room," the little boy, Carlos said, dragging him along. "You still have to pick your own colours and stuff, it'll be fun!"

So he got his own room. That he got to decorate. And he got to pick out non-standard-issue clothes, and they enrolled him in school, and every day Reggie was waiting for the Molinas to realise they'd made a mistake, to send him back to Reassignment, but it never came. Not even when he bombed his first pop quiz for his Writing class (the p and q were hard, okay?), or when he accidentally burned dinner helping Rose cook.

Three weeks in and they still hadn't sent him back. When he came home from school, thrilled to report that he'd actually passed a test for once (math was way easier than letters), the apartment looked... different. There were twinkly lights all around, and the furniture had been rearranged to make room for a tree, and oh. Christmas.

"Hey, mijo," Rose said, smiling from where she was hanging a garland up below the screen of the TV. It was playing a video of a fireplace, which just made the whole room feel even cozier. "How was school?"

He shyly showed her his Pad, with the bright red 100% at the top of the page on his math test. "I got my math test back," he said. He glowed with pride and maybe something else when she caught him in a hug, telling him how proud she was. She even insisted on wasting using credits to print out a copy to hang on the fridge.

"Do you want to help me decorate a little before you start your homework?" she asked. He usually waited until Ray was home, because Ray always looked over his letters and helped him sound out the really long words for his reading. He was really nice about it, too, and never got frustrated when Reggie made a mistake.

"Okay," he agreed happily, helping de-tangle even more lights, and hang pretty baubles in the tree. Ray came home from his shift, smiling and jumping right into helping decorate.

Together, they finished up the tree, except for the star. That would be put on when Julie and Carlos got home. They were in school longer than Reggie, because Rose and Ray hadn't wanted to overwhelm him. He had Writing and Reading and Math, and because Rose insisted school should be fun as well, once a week he also got to go to Music. They’d let him pick whatever he wanted, from art to sports to flight school.

Finally, Ray made him stand back and decide how high the stockings would go. He could read the names on them now. Rose and Ray both had fuzzy-looking stockings with a faux fur trim on it. Julie's was purple, of course, and shimmered in the light. Carlos' had a fabric that changed colours when you ran your finger over it, so you could draw little doodles on it.

And then Rose handed Ray the last one. It was red (he had a favourite colour now), and it looked very soft. And on it, in shimmering letters, it read Reggie.

"You got me a stocking?" he asked, startled, eyes flitting over the name again and again, just in case he misread. R-E-G-G-I-E. Reggie.

"Of course," Ray said. "You're family."

Maybe it was time to stop waiting for the other shoe to drop, Reggie thought, even as his face crumbled. Rose pulled him into a hug, Ray wrapping both his arms around him. Maybe this could be home.

[jymwahuwu]

Wrote some!! This is the second part of the abo story, you meet your two future Alpha husbands😽😽

part 1

cw: dystopian au, forced breeding policy

You borrow some credit from a friend and save it to a temporary payment card for daily payments. Now your bank account has been frozen by the government - for the hilariously unbelievable reason of not being pregnant beyond the appropriate reproductive age.

You don’t really want to get married, and you’ve criticized and complained about this weird policy on social media in the past. Now you are faced with this situation… There aren’t many options here, and you have to consider marriage and having children. You have no doubt that this government will really force you to be sent to a breeding facility.

News channels have reported that Omega and Beta citizens who repeatedly ignored warnings were sent to breeding facilities and stuck on the wall to wait for thorough breeding and pregnancy. Those citizens who emphasized "reproductive freedom" had their mouths gagged and their hands tied behind their backs. They whimpered and struggled to be stimulated and expanded by dildos, and finally broke and apologized in the water pool.

You-you don’t want to experience…

Before heading out, you circled in front of the mirror and checked your clothes. The two Alphas made an appointment with you to meet and talk in a restaurant. Even though you're dating two people right now, you've only chatted with one of them on the site. He said that the other Alpha believed that marriage and dating had to be discussed in real person. He has a point too. You agreed.

You board a spaceship (no physical currency is required this time, so you breathe a sigh of relief), and check the planned route on the map app to note which station you want to get off the spaceship at. Cheap ships have their downsides. That means the time it takes to travel is doubled, and the number of stations passed is doubled. Tired and shaken along the way, you fell asleep on the spacecraft and finally reached your destination.

After searching for a few minutes, you looked up and were shocked by the decoration of the restaurant. The elegant and luxurious restaurant decoration uses black and purple as the main tone. A foreign song is faintly passed in the air, exuding a quiet and comfortable atmosphere. The Milky Way can be observed in real time outside the window. The sofas and seats for guests are spaced apart and organized. This is very different from the ordinary restaurants you usually go to. Embarrassed, you flipped through the electronic menu in front of the door, wondering if there would be a discount on takeout, and wanted to send a message to them to tell them that they made an appointment at the wrong restaurant. Alas…how are you going to pay for it now…

"Hello, do you have an appointment?" The waiter at the door was filled with a friendly smile. You just feel more pressure. "W-wait, I'll send a message to my friend."

You: I'm here, but wait, is this here? Did I go to the wrong place? 🥹

You: [Restaurant link in the food app]

Aventurine: No, that's right^^ We're already here.

You: okay

As soon as you enter the restaurant, a bouquet of flowers is blocked from view in front of you, the fragrance is overflowing, and the delicate petals are condensed with bright colors and vitality. What's this? You took a step back in fear. A head with blond hair poked out from behind the flowers, with dazzling bright eyes. "Hello, this is a wedding gift." He explained with a smile.

Wedding gift? You were so frightened that your hands trembled, holding a large bouquet of flowers. The flowers are so crowded that they must be leaned on your shoulders.

"Hmm…? Just kidding. This is an engagement gift."

You paused after hearing his explanation. You are not engaged, or even agreed to be engaged to these two Alphas. This must be Aventurine. He was just as flirtatious and cheerful as he sounded on the Internet, sitting down and placing the bouquet in your hand back in its place. Sitting next to him was a man with a frown. "I've had enough of your peacocking. It's so grandiose."

"Ah, of course the more expensive the gift, the better. Everyone's feelings can be reflected in it, right?"

"Hello, I'm Veritas Ratio." He crossed his arms in front of his chest and nodded to you.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Wake up call

Sometimes you only really cherish things when they're taken away from you.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, angst, potentially triggering content, Hurt and comfort, JKs dad, major injury, angst, comfort, fluff

Length: 4.3k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

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It's pitch-black when you wake up, and it takes you a moment to realize that it's simply your eyes needing to adjust to the lack of light.

You instantly sit up in Jungkook's main resting spot, only to realize he's missing- instead standing at the main control screen, tapping away with his eyes reflecting the light of the screen in front of him. At a call of his name however, his face snaps towards you, the alien hybrid instantly walking towards you to cover your shoulders with a heavy blanket, before he sits down in the nest with you, clearly in a fight-or-flight state. "What's wrong?" You ask, and your sleepy voice and clearly drowsy state make him feel awfully protective over you-

and that's only partially due to his whole hormonal fiasco going on.

"We're passing a re-fueling station." He tells you, hushed and low in tone. "But the scanners show way too many ships in the area, so I'm trying to move us around." He offers as an explanation, unknowingly sitting closer to you, hands searching for any sort of physical contact with you before he just throws his pride out the window and moves to have you sit on his lap instead.

"Maybe it's just crowded?" You wonder, unsure why this is worrying him so much. But he shakes his head.

"Something's off." He simply denies, eyes focused on the large windows in the front of the ship, offering a wide view of whatever's going on in front and frontal sides- one of those windows being the one you're currently sleeping at. "I don't trust this." He shakes his head, arms slowly wrapping around you as he waits for the autopilot to steer the ship safely past the refueling station.

"Maybe it's.. you know?" You wonder, looking up at him- but he shakes his head.

"I'm.. I would've-" He sighs. "No one can really help me with my instincts because I am.. currently the only human-Bolku hybrid around, so not even Jin's mother can really.. help me understand what's going on with me." He shrugs, holding you in a relaxed, but almost clingy way. "I've simply decided to just.. take your words to heart, you could say." He tells you.

"What do you mean?" You ask, leaning into him a bit as the screen blinks with something- Jungkook looking once, before he puts his attention back onto you, apparently not alarmed by whatever message just popped up.

"You said the only life I can control is mine." He reminds you. "So I'll just.. let whatever I'm feeling run it's course, and learn to control my life instead of trying to just.. hiding in a vacuum." He explains, large ship coming into view in the distance, a few other's as well in close proximity. This catches Jungkook's attention, as he moves his body into a straighter position to properly catch a glance at the ID parts of the ships- required by law. It's typically a flag of the respective planet or organization, combined with a letter-number Identification, similar to a license plate back on earth.

And suddenly, Jungkook tenses up, eyes focused solely on one particular ship it seems like, as it passes by slowly. You're not sure what's wrong, when there's another warning tone, this time making Jungkook growl a little to himself as he gets up to walk towards the control console, tapping away.

He's scanning everything back and forth before he curses, slamming his hands onto the control board, jaw clenched, before he puts some different commands in, ship shifting, starting to steer in a very specific manner that makes the generators underneath your floor rumble in a new rhythm.

"I thought we were skipping this one?" You wonder, but Jungkook grimly shakes his head.

"We can't." He sighs. "I tend to forget that.. this ship is so old." He mumbles, clearly upset.

"It'll be fine." You try and reassure- and he looks at you for a good moment, before he grimly nods to himself.

Hoping that'll be the case.

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Jungkook is usually very much at ease when it comes to situations like these. He clearly knows his way around and is aware of how to act and what not to do in certain situations- year long experience giving him the necessary confidence to properly keep his job going.

But this time, he's on edge- never letting you out of sight, and even having checked multiple times before leaving the ship that the tracker on your new collar works perfectly just in case. He's also made you wear some of his clothes- says it's got something to do with other alien species' staying away from you if you smell like him, and in your eyes, it makes sense. Maybe his whole hormone-issue is just making him a little overprotective.

You understand that, somewhat. And you have to admit that his clothes are very comfortable to wear.

But something you also notice, for the first time, is what he's warned you about in your room, days ago. How everyone who knows his father will look at you with a certain sense of judgement- and this time, it seems like almost everyone seems to know him, because the looks are everywhere. It doesn't bother you too much- but you can feel with the way Jungkook's hand tightens around yours that it does affect him.

"Can we go eat something while the ship refuels?" You wonder, tugging on his hand to gain his attention, trying to pull his mind away from the admittedly tense atmosphere around you. He nods after a moment, nodding towards the employees currently attaching the giant tubes to the ship, before he walks away and towards the food section, numerous different small restaurants cooking quickly for customers sitting and standing close by.

"What do you want to eat?" He asks you, who's already scanning the pictures as best as you can- still not very good at deciphering the intergalactic standard writing. You should really learn it sooner rather than later- it's got to be annoying to read everything to you, after all.

"Uh.. can I eat this?" You ask him, pointing to a specific food covered in crispy fried dough- not because he pays for it, but because he also knows what humans can and can't eat.

Now this fact makes finally sense to you- because as someone who's partially human, Jungkook has to look out for certain foods as to not upset his stomach. For you, the consequences are much more severe, however, so he instead walks up to the counter to ask, just to make sure. The man behind, an alien with scars all over his face as if burned at some point, looks down at you, then at him, before he scoffs.

"She ain't gonna die from it." He says, but Jungkook is clearly not satisfied with an answer like that.

"I asked if it's safe to consume, not if she's gonna die from it." He challenges almost annoyed, a few close standing customers already clearly interested in the small scene.

"And I told you what I know. I don't usually have to feed 'em." The man replies, slamming down his large cleaver into the wooden counter in front of him, cutting a piece of meat in half.

"She can eat it just fine." A voice chimes up, deep and a little scratchy- and multiple things happen all at once.

First, people start to make room, averting their gazes as if an accident just occurred, and someone blasted their guts all over the place.

Almost at the same time, Jungkook pulls you close to him, shielding you in a way from whomever just talked behind you, body hiding you away like he needs to protect you from something.

And then, you poke your head around a little, catching a glimpse of the man.

He's clearly a Bolku with his tall build, even a good hand or two taller than Jungkook, body bulky and muscular, though the face shows the time this man has been alive. There's horns on his head curving backwards, and his eyes are what's the most prominent about him- small, halfway opened, but sharp in their gaze and a deep orange-y red, the color of pure confidence.

A shiver runs down your spine when you realize the small similarities you recognize however. This has to be Jungkook's father.

"Make two servings. I'll pay." The man orders, and the cook eagerly occupies himself with his job to flee the scene, quietly preparing the food. "Snatched a taste of human love, haven't you?" He laughs to himself, now having caught you peeking around Jungkook's arm, his eyes staring you down so much that you can feel your skin crawl.

"We're leaving." Jungkook mumbles to you over his shoulder, hand holding yours as his father chuckles lowly.

"Already? Your ship is barely halfway fueled." He says, sitting down at a table. "And the poor little thing must be hungry too. Aren't you?" He adresses you, but Jungkook hisses back towards you.

"Don't talk to him." He commands, and you nod, before you lean up towards him to speak closer into his ear.

"I'm not that hungry." You reassure him, and he nods, moving to walk away with you-

when suddenly, out of nowhere, someone tugs you away from Jungkook's hand, collar being pulled so roughly it causes you to violently cough from your throat being pushed together forcefully.

Jungkook shouts, but he's held back as well- whoever has you in their grip is bringing you closer to Jungkook's father, who inspects you from his sitting position. "Pretty thing." He comments, using his cane to tap at your thighs. "Healthy body. I wouldn't be able to resist either." He jokes, making who you assume to be his crewmembers laugh while you hold onto the front of your collar to help yourself breathe. "Ah, your mother needed one of those too. They always try and run off, don't they?" He comments, making Jungkook struggle.

You've never seen Jungkook's eyes shine in such a violent shade of red- almost as if his eyes are going to spout flames any second.

"I assume she's not for sale?" He wonders towards his son, who spits onto the ground right in front of his father's shoes, probably as a non-verbal answer. "Figured." The man says, pulling back his boot before he looks at you. "I'll be taking her anyways."

"She's registered under my name!" Jungkook argues. "I'll be sending out a patrol the minute you have to leave-" He argues, and his father laughs loudly.

"Your name means nothing in this system!" He barks back. "You have no worth, you bastard. Be happy I'll let you leave once your trash-pile of a ship is refueled." He warns.

You're starting to become tired fighting against the strong hold of whomever got their hands on you- causing your to breath harder and harder, oxygen not reaching your brain as well, causing you to become dizzy- and it's something Jungkook notices, because of course he does.

And another thing he realizes is that he knows you're in distress long before he spots the blinking red light of your collar, signaling something wrong with your vital signs.

And before you can do anything else, the edges of your eyesight begin to darken like a vignette filter, Jungkook's terrified gaze the only thing you can make out before you pass out, becoming limp in the hands of whoever is holding you.

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You're glaring at the man in front of you, refusing to eat anything that's offered.

He's already needed a large patch on his hand to cover up the aggressive bite you placed there hours prior after he tried to touch you- but he's intelligent enough to not try it again, it seems like. He thinks you're easy prey, probably- and that's what you used to be, and what you would've been if he'd been the one to find you back then.

But you belong to Jungkook- and Jungkook made you want to fight for your life, just to get back to him.

"Do you even know who he is?" The man in front of you speaks, trying to intimidate you with his gaze, but, for some reason you're not sure of, it doesn't work. "He'll abandon you the moment he finds a proper partner to mate with." He scoffs, and you just keep staring at him.

You don't believe anything this man is spewing- in fact, you're not even properly listening, rather trying to think hard of a way to escape this ship- entire layout foreign to you, since you didn't wake up until you were already on the ship. The only thing you know is that the entire interior intimidates you with it's perfect polished metal walls- something about Jungkook's old and somewhat worn down rooms and halls just makes you feel at home.

Or maybe it just feels like that because you fell in love on this ship.

So the minute you're left alone again after he insults you in Bolku language you don't understand, your brain is running at lightspeed.

Vents are out of reach, but maybe if you could push some of the furniture you could reach it- but someone might hear, and catch you in the act, making this whole plan incredibly dangerous. It's risk against reward after all- you're no use to anyone if you're dead. So you look around once more, checking out everything-

when you spot another vent, small but definitely in better reach than anything else. And the best thing is that once you're in there, there's no way anybody can reach out or crawl in behind you. The only issue?

You don't know where it leads. And from looking over Jungkook's shoulder at the general layout of his ship, you know that some vents lead straight into machines- and you're honestly not ready to be boiled alive.

Your decision however falls onto all or nothing- so you undo your collar at the emergency clip Jungkook had shown you, in case they're tracking you that way, before you crawl under the bed where the vent is, cover easy to remove as you crawl inside. It's tight, not much room and definitely not enough space to turn around now, as you move slowly, having left your shoes behind so that your socked feet don't make too much sound.

On the way, you can spot some vents you have to crawl over slowly, showing you numerous rooms of the ship. A kitchen, another prep room it looks like, multiple storage spaces, and then-

bright lights, clearly leading outside.

You crawl faster the moment you hear machines starting, finally able to see the drop-

and it's not only high up, but right next to a small engine that's clearly about to start if the radiating heat and slowly glowing metal were anything to go by. So either way- you're gonna get cooked alive, or you'll break your spine falling down.

You've got nothing to lose.

Safe to say you do end up cracking something- but the adrenaline is enough to push you through the pain, legs running faster than you ever thought you could as you make your way through the ship station, searching frantically for anything familiar so you can find your way back to Jungkook. If his father stayed true to his word, he would be allowed to leave- and you don't know how long you were out for, so you might already be too late.

Or would he wait for you?

You're searching around frantically when you can spot the familiar ship- large cargo door slowly closing, metal wall lifting, as you shout Jungkook's name as loud as you can- even though you just know he probably can't hear you.

You don't know how you manage even after tripping painfully so, but you reach the lifting cargo door just in time to jump up and lift yourself in-

when you feel warms in the back of your shoulder, something almost crawling down your back, the same feeling in another spot lower on your back, and in the back and front of your leg. It takes a good moment for you to slowly calm down, ship's door closing behind you, as the engines start, before you realize what's happening.

You've been shot by some sort of weapon, multiple times. And the feeling of something crawling, was simply your own blood.

It's ironic how you find yourself seeking at least some sort of warmth yet again under the blue plastic tarp- similar to how you first snuck onto this ship. But the tables have turned- and now, it seems like you'll find your end here too, between all the cargo and dust and by now familiar scents and sounds.

It could be worse.

Just like the first time, the large metal door hisses as it opens loudly, and once again just like the first time, you hear boots on the floor. But this time, you're not scared- this time you know who it is, and you find comfort in that.

Tarps are lifted. Cargo is inspected.

And then, the dark blue one you're hiding under is pulled back- but this time, he's not holding a gun, or a grim expression, or anything alike.

This time, he drops harshly to his knees as he pulls you close to him, holding you, uncaring of your blood staining his clothes.

This time, he wants you to stay.

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He's got you in his nest, while he steers the ship angrily, intercom blasting the sound of his father trying to get through his mind. But Jungkook is filled with nothing but rage and that need to finally break free from the shackles this man had put him in all his life.

"I saw her drop, kid." He laughs. "Stop trying to chase ghosts, you'll kill yourself too trying to move that thing any faster!" He jokes, spits at the old ship Jungkook has owned for years now. But what he doesn't know, is that sometimes, newer isn't better. Because this is a ship build during the third interstellar war-

this thing is meant to last.

And withstand.

So Jungkook lifts his face, eyes locking with the one's of his father moments before he lets it happen-

ramming right into the smaller jet ship painted white, causing sure damage to his own ship- but it's clear that whatever happened to his own, is nothing compared to the large gashes and dents in the exterior, communication cutting off as he watches the smaller white ship slowly lose engine after engine, fuel leaking without any gravity into the galaxy, fires burning out, until everything is quiet-

the wreck left behind him, just like his past.

Jungkook doesn't even check if the autopilot is really properly working- he only cares for you now, who's still breathing shallowly in the nest he slept in with you before, bandages already letting your blood seep through. He's not trained enough in human health to properly help you- he's unequipped as well, which just makes this all the more worse.

He can't help you. No matter how bad he wants to.

All he can do is wipe the sweat off your forehead before he holds you close again, curling up around your body, trying to hide you away from everything. When he heard you call, it felt odd- like a sound only in his thoughts, not clear, but definitely present. He didn't know at first what had happened- only when the security check signed to him that something was wrong in the cargo room down in the bowel of the spaceship did he check-

finding you yet again, just like the first time.

But this time, he's holding you in fear. He's not sure if he can even do anything if he reaches a destination- human health is something not everyone has enough knowledge in, and even if that's the case, the chances of finding a still practicing doctor for you are slim to none at the moment.

It's so horribly unfair.

He finally accepted not only himself but you- and now he's gonna have to watch you leave after all, the world taking yet another thing away from him, as if his childhood and adolescence wasn't enough. No- apparently his future is on the menu next, to be devoured with every breath you struggle to take.

The intercom rings, and Jungkook doesn't care for it- simply swipes his hand over the panel near the window to accept it, Yoongis surprised voice ringing out- tone changing quickly as he notices the blurred scene of Jungkook and you in the corner, transmission a little choppy due to the damage to the ship.

"I received an emergency signal- are you there?" He asks with urgency, and Jungkook just hums a reply. "Jungkook, what happened?" He worries, ship slowly coming into view of the large side windows, light blue paint flaking off the metal casing of the small ship.

"We ran into him." Jungkook mumbles, running his hand over your head in a soft manner, relishing in your warmth for as long as it's there. "He tried to take her- she snuck out.. got in last minute." He explains. Yoongi exhales a breath.

"Thank god-" He starts, but Jungkook wasn't finished.

"They shot her." He hums, voice emotionless, eyes a pale grey. "Now she's dying." He chuckles softly, looking down at you- you look like you're merely sleeping, resting against his body. "He's taking everything from me even past his lifetime." He scoffs.

"I'm tugging your ship to the nearest outpost- it's Aon, we should make it in less than half an hour max." Yoongi urges, saying something to what Jungkook assumes must be his human partner. "We have medical supplies on board. Is she still bleeding?"

No answer. Jungkook fails to see the point of one.

"Jungkook!" Yoongi barks. "Did you at least wrap her wounds? Anything?" He tries to find out, but the Bolku hybrid stays quiet- too mesmerized by sight of your eyes moving behind your closed lids. Your lashes are long. Soft. How come he's never noticed that? "Jungkook you gotta give me something to work with!" Yoongi whines almost, successfully connecting to Jungkook's autopilot, initiating the system to follow Yoongi's ship that's not in front.

Jungkook sighs. "I wrapped her up.. the best I can." He shrugs. "Now I'm letting her sleep."

Yoongi sighs. "What was she even shot with?" He wants to know, but Jungkook doesn't know. "Alright, I guess that's the only info I'll get out of you at this point." He mumbles to himself, before he cuts the intercom for the moment, quietly leading the ship to Aon- a small outpost set on a large meteorite, meant for simple refueling of smaller ships and temporary stay for some stranded people who didn't make it to the next bigger planet.

It's not much- but it'll do.

The only problem arises when Yoongi enters the ship and wants to look at you together with a doctor he'd found on Aon- because Jungkook just won't let anybody close to you, mind having slipped entirely now in the prospect of you being in such distress. It takes several people to remove the rather feral human hybrid from you, his eyes basically scanning every little move anyone makes as they check on you, everyone's nerves slowly relaxing. "Humans are truly odd in those things." Someone says, as he uses all four of his arms to properly put some bandages and patches onto your wounds. "They just sleep it off it seems like." He laughs, finishing up the patch on your back before he leaves you alone- and nods to the people holding Jungkook to let him go.

He immediately rushes back to you, tugging you closer, holding you tightly as you whine a bit in complain in your sleep, turning over to properly hold onto him as well.

"She'll be fine." Yoongi reassures, much to Jungkook's eyes turning round with wonder at that promise. "Humans are.. weird when it comes to ion guns." He shrugs. "It's just mostly tissue damage, some scratches here and there- but she'll literally sleep it off, like he said. She'll be fine- she just needs rest." He offers, causing a reaction he's not seen in years from the younger alien.

He cries, bitterly so-

but this time, it's tears of relief and happiness.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──👽── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

"No no no no- come here." He scolds, pulling you close again to have you sit down on his lap at the main control console.

Jungkook is not letting you do anything whatsoever, even though your wounds are healing well. He's also become, while still moody as ever, incredibly touchy. As if that scare had flipped a switch and showed him how quickly you could be taken away from him again, it seems like he's decided that there's really no reason anymore to take things slow or be afraid of anything.

"Hey Jungkook?" You wonder, leaning your head back against his shoulder to look at him. He hums, not looking away from the control screen in front of him, and you giggle, still a little sleepy and low on energy due to all the medication you're taking. "I like you." You say, and this time, he chuckles-

turning his head to press a kiss against your cheek-

because he finally understands what you're trying to tell him.

He finally gets it.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──👽── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

The Last Notch

Fives x Fem!Reader

Summary: In a dystopian Star Wars universe where clones aren't just soldiers, but also pleasurable objects used to help finance the war, Fives starts to question his role in the Erotic Bingo lottery system when he meets you and discovers something more fulfilling than sex.

Pairing: Fives x Fem!Reader

Characters: Fives, Jesse, Hardcase

Tags & Warnings: NSFW, 18+, dystopian!AU, implied/referenced sexual content, NO SMUT, strong sexual themes, explicit sexual language, clone sex workers, erotic bingo/lottery system, kink mentions, clone objectification, culturally-reserved reader (also read as demi-sexual), misunderstandings, angst, happy ending, POV switches between the reader and Fives

Word Count: 8.5k

Author's Note: I began this bingo card with Fives and I'm ending this bingo card with Fives. This fic has been sitting in my drafts since I first received my bingo card back in May, and I was so excited to revisit the idea. It's a little out there, and may not be everyone's cup of tea, but the underlying themes are really good and it's actually super sweet. As always, please enjoy 💚

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Regret

The evening air is crisp and the sky is clear as you make your way home from work. It's only been two weeks since you defected from your home planet and began a life on Coruscant, so you aren't used to the planet's large size, crowded public spaces, and endless winding streets. You thought you were going the right way, but something doesn't feel right. You don't remember seeing that purple neon sign on your walk home last night, but there it is, flashing at you.

You sigh and rub your tired face. You're lost, again. However, this time, the street is darker and the walls are a little more enclosed. A bit of anxiety creeps in as you take a few wary steps forward, then hesitate when the idea of turning around crosses your mind. You're not sure what to do. There aren't any kiosk maps around, and even if you did find one, you don't know if it will help you find your way home. The only thing you do know is that you won't find it by standing still.

Thus, you continue onward, trying to remember the landmarks leading to your apartment even though every corner looks the same. It's not until you come to a four-way intersection of lengthy streets that you begin to feel real panic. Your breath quickens as you turn in a circle, looking down each path with no inclination to step towards any of them. If you can just get to higher ground, or find someone to ask directions from, you'll be able to get home, but there's no one.

"You look lost," a man says.

You startle and turn around to look at the man, but you say nothing in response.

"I can help you get home," he says.

Something in your gut rings an alarm bell, alerting you that this man has no intentions of helping you find your way. You don't know what his real intentions are, but they aren't in your best interest. You take a cautious step back, and he takes a step towards you. You just want to go home. That's all you want to do. You hate this planet, you hate your home planet, and you hate this stupid galactic war that has led you to this exact moment where you might die in the streets.

"Please," you say with a shaky voice. "Leave me alone."

"But you're lost, little one," the man tilts his head to the side and steps closer. "Don't you want to find your home?"

"I–" you stammer and take a bigger step back. "I can find my own way home, thank you."

The man chuckles. "Oh, but I don't think you can."

You want to cry. In fact, you might just break down right here in front of your would-be kidnapper because you don't know what else to do. If your feet could move, where would you run? Where would you go? You don't know where anything is, let alone a police station, and running into a Coruscant Guardsman would be a miracle at this point. Out of your brain's options of fight, flight, freeze, or fawn, your brain chooses to freeze, which is the dumbest thing it can possibly do right now.

"Please," you plead. The tears get stuck in your throat as a sob threatens to escape. "I–"

"Hey!" another man shouts from behind you.

You stiffen as you feel a firm hand rest gently on your shoulder.

"She said, get lost," the man growls.

You watch intently as the creepy man scrunches his face with indignation before he backs away and disappears into the shadows of one of the streets. You want to release a sigh of relief, but some other man you don't know is touching you, and your body hasn't ditched the freeze mode yet. You're too afraid to turn around and see who the mysterious hand belongs to, so you remain standing still, stiff as a board, hoping he'll go away, but he doesn't.

"Are you alright?" the man asks as he removes his hand and walks around into your view.

You glance up at the man speaking to you and look into his soft brown eyes. His face carries a worried expression that feels warm, and he tilts his head to the side while awaiting your answer. You study him for a moment. He's well-groomed, with short, curly dark hair, a neatly trimmed goatee, and he's wearing normal casual clothing. You're not sure if you can trust him yet, but there's something very calming about his relaxed demeanor and soothing about his deep voice.

"Yeah," you finally breathe, then swallow hard. "I think so."

"Good," he says with a crooked smile. "What're you doing out here all alone? This isn't exactly a safe area."

"I got lost," you explain. "I just moved here recently and I'm still not used to how big this place is."

"That's understandable," he says warmly. "Well, welcome to Coruscant. Where'd you move from?"

"Onderon," you say.

"Onderon?" he repeats in surprise, then takes a more rigid and guarded stance. "A Seppi planet?"

You sigh and roll your eyes. This isn't the first time you've been heckled for hailing from a Separatist planet, and it most likely won't be your last. "Just because the leaders choose to align themselves with the Separatists, doesn't mean the citizens feel the same way," you explain. "There's a reason I defected."

The man raises his eyebrows at your annoyed tone, then casts his vision towards the ground. "I didn't realize…" he pauses. "I guess I never thought about it like that."

"Not many people do," you whisper. "Judging people by where they come from is cruel."

"I'm sorry," the man says as he rubs the back of his neck. "You're right. The Republic is all I've ever known…" he pauses, "and I've never stopped to think about the civilians on the other side."

You give the man a half-smile. "Thanks."

"Hey," the man says. "Why don’t I walk you home. It’s late and I’d hate for you to run into any more trouble."

You ponder his offer for a moment. "That's very kind of you."

"It's the least I can do after sticking my foot in my mouth," he explains. "Take it as an apology."

You chuckle. "Then I accept your apology."

The man smiles and reaches out his hand. "I'm Fives."

You smile, shake his hand, and offer your name. "Nice to meet you, Fives."

When you give Fives your address, he snorts and makes a comment about you being really lost. You want to be annoyed at him, but you can't seem to muster the gumption. He's too delightful for you to be mad, so you sigh in defeat and follow him as he leads you to your apartment. Coruscant isn't so scary now that you have an escort, and a very strong looking one at that. You can't imagine anyone even thinking about approaching you with him by your side.

Fives keeps the conversation light-hearted and casual as you stroll together along the neon-lit streets. You talk about everything from your first childhood pet all the way up to where you work. It's not an extravagant job, but you work as a barista at a small caf shop that doubles as a holo-bookstore. He asks you questions about your job and why you like it, and you answer that you are a plain and simple woman. You like the quaint atmosphere the caf and holo-books provide.

An indistinguishable expression flashes across his face and you wonder if you said something wrong. You shouldn't care if he's bothered by your simplistic lifestyle or not, but you're enjoying his company. You don't have many friends on Coruscant to begin with, and you want him, at the bare minimum, to like you enough to keep in touch. You've never been good at making friends, but with him doing most of the talking, he's making it easy for you two to get to know each other.

When you finally reach your apartment, you share a moment of awkward silence in front of your door. You're not sure if you should ask him inside and offer him something for his trouble, or if you should part ways here. On Onderon, it would be disrespectful not to offer your hospitality to him after he saved your life and walked you home, but you're not sure about the customs on Coruscant. You're afraid he would mistake it as an opportunity to take advantage of you.

"Thank you for walking me home," you say.

"It was my pleasure," Fives says.

You pull out your key card. "Well, good night."

"Hey," Fives begins as he rubs the back of his neck. "I know this may be sudden, but would you like to get a drink sometime? With me?"

You turn away from the door and look at him with surprise. Of all the things you thought were going to happen tonight, this was the least expected. "Oh," you say nervously. "I appreciate the offer, but I don’t drink."

"Soda?" Fives asks quickly. "What about soda? Or water?"

You let out a small laugh. "Sure, I like soda."

"Great!" Fives exclaims. "How about tomorrow night, around 19:00?"

"Works for me," you say with a small smile. "Where are we meeting?"

"At 79’s," Fives says. "I can give you directions."

"The clone bar?" you ask in confusion.

Fives chuckles. "Well, yeah, I am a clone."

Your eyes grow wide. "You’re a clone?"

"Yeah…" Fives furrows his brows, then raises one. "You’ve never seen one before?"

"No," you say, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"Well, that’s a first," Fives remarks with amusement. "You really didn’t know?"

"I’m from Onderon, remember?" you say. "We don’t exactly get clones on our planet."

"I guess that makes sense," Fives says. 

"Besides," you add, "you're not wearing any armor and the only clones I've ever seen had armor and helmets on."

"That's fair, too," Fives says. "I'm on leave, so I like to relax a little and ditch the kit."

"If you don’t mind me asking," you begin. "I’m not trying to be rude, but, how will I find you at the bar? You know, since you all… look alike."

Fives laughs, tilts his head, and points at the Aurebesh tattoo on his temple. "This. This is me. Fives."

You feel a little dumb for not noticing it earlier, but you blame it on the poor lighting. "I can remember that."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow?" Fives asks.

"Yes," you answer. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Fives smiles, takes a few steps away from your door, then turns back to face you. "Good night."

You smile at him, then swipe your card to unlock your door. "Good night."

You walk into your apartment and let the door whoosh shut behind you. Releasing your held breath, you turn around, place your forehead against the cool door, and smile. It's been a while since you felt like this, and you have to admit, you're a little bit scared. Your last relationship ended because of the war, differing opinions, and your sexual preferences. It's not that you don't want to have sex, or that you don't find men attractive, but it takes you time to feel safe to do so.

It's a huge turn-off to a lot of men. Sex is the only thing that men think about when they see a woman, and there aren't many who will willingly be in a relationship with you, knowing that they'll have to wait until you're ready to even touch you sexually. Most just leave after you explain it to them, so you're not getting your hopes up that Fives will accept it either. He seems like a decent and nice man, but the thought of him rejecting you like the others has you hesitant to try again.

You sigh and back away from the door. There's no use in worrying about it now, because you'll have plenty of time to overthink it all tomorrow while you're at work. Instead, you take care of your nightly tasks like making dinner, showering, putting your most comfortable pajamas on, and snuggling under your blankets to watch your favorite holo-show. It's the one that makes you laugh and keeps your mind from thinking about the life you left behind, and the people you miss.

However, as much as you try to pay attention to the holo-show, your mind keeps wandering to Fives. You think about his smile and the way he laughed. That's what you notice about people. You don't care if they're hot, sexy, or attractive, but only if their smiles are warm, their eyes are honest, their minds are humorous, and their hearts are soft. Those are the qualities you look for in a partner. And now here you are, lying awake, wondering what else you'll learn about him.

The morning arrives soon enough, and you feel exhausted from your lack of sleep. You tossed and turned like a secondary school girl going through her first crush, but your body doesn't bounce back like it used to, and you're feeling the consequences of your choices. Nevertheless, you're giddy to get the day started and get to work. The sooner you go to work, the sooner you'll get off of work, and the sooner you'll be able to go on your date with Fives at the clone bar, 79's.

That place makes you wonder. You've heard a lot about 79's since you came to Coruscant, and not all of them are good. While living on Onderon, you didn't frequent the bar scene, but then again, Onderon bars are upscale to begin with, so you don't know if the bars on Coruscant are similar or if they are more like the bars on Tatooine that you've read about, full of cheap booze and degenerates. You consider doing a little more research beforehand, but you decide against it.

Before leaving for work, you pack a small bag with a change of clothes for your date. It's a bar, but you don't want to be too flashy if it's like Tatooine, and you don't want to look too frumpy if it's like Onderon. You think back to the way Fives was dressed when you met him, and ultimately decide to go the casual route. Not too classy and not too frumpy, just comfortable. However, you do pack your lucky earrings and small bottle of perfume so you don't smell like caf all night.

Your shift goes as expected, with your routine customers coming in for their usual orders. You love that about your job, getting to meet new people and learning all sorts of things about them. But, perhaps your favorite part of the job is offering holo-book suggestions. The shop doubles as a holo-bookstore, where patrons can drink caf and read, so the holo-book side of things is just as important as making their caf correctly. As an avid reader yourself, your suggestions are always on point.

Once your shift is over, you hang your apron up and make your way to the back to change. Your co-workers say a few remarks and ask you a couple questions about your excitement and you explain that you're meeting a man for a date at 79's. Your co-workers exchange a few surprised and knowing glances and you can't help but notice. You're unsure why they're reacting like that for just a date, but then again, you're still new to the area, so it might be a bit of missing context.

After you're dressed and happy with your hair, you make your way to 79's. This time, you are determined not to get lost, and mapped out the route ahead of time to be extra careful. If he's in the bar waiting for you, then he won't be out on the streets to find you if you get lost. You're not sure why you didn't offer to exchange comm numbers the night you met, but you blame the scary life or death situation for rattling you completely out of your mind which made you forget.

As you get closer, you notice the large, bright, orange neon sign with the 79's logo in the middle, and you're taken aback by how big the place is. The bars on Onderon, even the high-scale ones, aren't this big. Its size alone makes you feel nervous. You don't like bars to begin with, and here you are, waltzing right up to a giant one full of men that you don't even know. You begin to wonder if all of your senses left you when you agreed to this date, but you can't back down now.

The door slides open and your senses are bombarded. The smell of booze is thick in the air, the music is loud, and the bar is filled with clones. Your eyes widen and you suck in a quick breath. This was not what you were expecting, not in the slightest. You stay frozen by the door, sidestepping lazily when someone walks in after you, too afraid to go in any further. There's half-naked women, half-naked men, pole dancers, a stage, and every other kind of strip club vibe.

You whip around to leave, but bump into a clone in your haste. He only has the bottom half of his armor on, with just the black bodysuit covering his torso, except the sleeves are rolled up. The armor doesn't look like the Coruscant Guard that you're used to seeing. Instead, it has blue markings and big leather flappy-looking things that cover his thighs, with holsters and black pouches draped over them in a criss-cross. You step back in surprise but don't say anything.

"Well, hello there, sweet little thing," the clone says with a cocky smile as he looks you up and down.

You feel uncomfortable with his eyes roaming over your body, and you're glad you chose casual modesty over anything revealing, but you still want to bury yourself in a pile of blankets to keep him from staring at you like some sort of snack. The clone's resemblance to Fives is uncanny, except he's bald, with a giant GAR logo tattoo covering most of his head and face, and a five o'clock shadow. You knew they were clones, but you didn't realize they looked that much alike.

"Uh, hi," you finally muster the courage to say, trying not to let your nerves escape through your voice.

"Don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here before," the clone says as he steps closer to you. He gently runs a finger under a lock of your hair. "What're you into? I can show you around to all the good spots."

"I'm meeting someone," you blurt out and pull your face back to let your hair slip from his finger. "For a date."

"Oh, apologies," the clone says, and backs off his advances. "Who're you looking for? I can bring you to him."

"Fives," you say. "I'm here for Fives."

"Fives?" the clone says in surprise. "Well, aren’t you a lucky girl, to be requested by Fives."

You knit your eyebrows together in confusion. "Requested?"

The clone studies your perplexed expression for a second, then shrugs. "Never mind. Come on, I’ll bring you to him."

You nod and follow the clone through the bar, trying not to look at the debauchery happening all around you. But, you end up catching a few glimpses that make you wish you could bleach your eyes. People throwing credits at scantily clad clones twirling around poles, people doing way more than just kissing in the booths, clones taking shots from women's cleavage, lap dances that are anything but dances, and you think you saw someone having actual sex. It's a nightmare.

Finally, you see Fives, sitting in one of the booths. You recognize his goatee and the Aurebesh tattoo on his temple. Although, at this point, you're not sure what to say to him, since you've been hurled so far out of your comfort zone you may never recover. Nevertheless, you smile at him and he smiles back at you, gesturing with his hand for you to sit down. You take a seat across from him in the booth, but squirm when you think of what you saw people doing in these booths.

The clone that escorted you leans over the back of your booth, cages your head with his hands, then smirks at Fives. "Trying something new tonight?"

You jump.

"Get lost, Jesse," Fives growls.

Jesse straightens up, raises his hands in defense, and walks away.

"Don’t mind him," Fives says. "He's harmless."

"He seems…" your voice is shaky, "nice."

"Do you want something to drink?" Fives asks, changing the subject. "They’ve got an assortment of non-alcoholic beverages."

"Sure," you say. "I’ll just have the soda."

"Got it," Fives says as he gets up from the booth. "I’ll be right back."

You sit alone in the booth and contemplate your life choices that led you to this moment. You're not sure how you, a respectful young Onderon lady, ended up in a vulgar place like this. 79's is nothing like the bars on your home world, and you're very disappointed. What does this mean about Fives? Is he into this lifestyle? Or does he come here just because he's a clone and it's a bar meant for clones? Maybe you're overthinking it and he likes caf and holo-books just like you do.

"So," a clone says as he slides into the booth to fill the empty spot left by Fives. "You’re Fives’ special hook-up, yeah?"

"I beg your pardon?" you huff. "This is a date, not some sleazy hook-up."

It's another bald clone, but this one has blue lines tattooed on his face, no five o'clock shadow, and no armor, at all. He looks like he just came down from the poles and you really didn't want to see that tonight. You're beginning to wonder if the bald clones are the weird ones and the clones with hair are the normal ones, because out of the three you've met so far, Fives is the only one who seems to be somewhat ordinary, and also the only one with a full head of hair.

"Jesse told me otherwise," the clone says, disregarding your earlier remarks. "So, how’d you worm your way into that spot?"

"Spot?" you repeat in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Seriously?" the clone says with a quirk of his brows. "You do know who Fives is, right? One of the top ten clone names in Erotic Bingo? Master of every position humanly possible? He’s only got the longest line of people waiting to scan him on their bingo cards. So how’d you cut the line?"

"Erotic…" you're stunned, mouth gaping and eyes wide. "What?"

"Come on," the clone says. "Erotic Bingo? The lotto system? You know, where you can win credits by having sex with clones? Do you live under a rock or something?"

You feel sick. The room begins to spin as all of the words this clone has spoken to you swirl around in your mind, setting off every klaxon in response, shouting at you to leave this place immediately. You've been duped. You've been lied to. Your image of Fives and his soft, sweet smile shatters into a million pieces. You feel stupid, like you should've known it was too good to be true. Sex. It's a drug, and they're all addicted to it. That's all you are to him, a sexual object.

Fives comes back from the bar with your soda and a Corellian ale for himself, and frowns when he sees the clone sitting across from you. "Hardcase," Fives says with a warning in his voice. "That's my seat."

Hardcase smirks, and slides himself out of the booth. "Whoops," he says. "Guess I mistook her for someone else. She's all yours."

Fives rolls his eyes and gives Hardcase a whack with his shoulder to get a move on, then sets down the drinks before sliding himself back into the booth. He smiles and grabs his ale, lifting it to toast with you, but his smile slowly dissipates when he sees your panicked expression.

"Are you okay?" Fives asks. "Did Hardcase say something to you? I'm sorry. He really can't control himself half the time."

"I…" you stutter, trying to find the words in your parched throat. "I have to go."

"Go?" Fives asks in confusion. "Go where? You just got here."

"Home," you answer as you try to hold back your tears.

"I don’t understand," Fives says. "What's wrong?"

"This," you say. "All of this."

Fives shakes his head, bewildered by your words, unsure of what to say.

"You're just like everyone else," you say as you get up from the booth. "All you men ever want is sex. You think women are cheap and gullible, and will rollover for you in bed. Well guess what, Fives. I’m not cheap, I’m not easy, and I’m not going to be another notch in your bedpost!"

"What…" Fives' jaw slacks. He scrambles to get up from the booth to go after you. "Hey, wait! Please, let me explain!"

"Just stay away from me!" you turn around and shout, tears threatening to fall from your eyes. "This was a mistake… You're a mistake."

Fives sighs as he watches you leave. That last remark hurt, but at this point he thinks he probably deserves it. The one time he actually wants a relationship, he botches it up four ways to Benduday. He pinches the bridge of his nose and rubs his forehead before making his way back to the booth. He sits down and slinks back so his feet can touch the opposite side, and watches the condensation slip down the side of your glass of soda, the ice clinking as it melts.

"Ouch," Hardcase says as he leans over the back of Fives' booth. "That was painful to watch."

"This is your fault," Fives says without turning around to look at him.

"I'm not the one that invited that kinda girl to this kinda place," Hardcase says, before pushing himself off the booth and turning around. "And they say, I'm the dumb one."

Fives groans, even though he knows Hardcase is right.

He's not sure what he was thinking when he invited you to 79's after you said you don't drink alcohol and you like quiet atmospheres. Everything that 79's is not. Perhaps it was out of a sense of familiarity. Then, to top it all off, you got the wrong impression about the date, but he can't blame you for coming to that conclusion when he's the one who invited you to a borderline whore-house of a bar. The more he thinks about it the more he realizes why you were so upset.

Fives fiddles with his Corellian ale, aimlessly twirling the base of the glass bottle against the table. As he takes a sip, Jesse slides in across from him.

"What do you want?" Fives asks.

"I take it your hook-up didn’t work out," Jesse muses as he takes a sip from his own beverage.

"It wasn’t a hook-up," Fives says.

"Sorry," Jesse waves with his hand sarcastically. "I meant your special hook-up."

"It wasn't a hook-up," Fives repeats, the irritation in his voice growing.

"What?" Jesse asks. "You were on a date or something? That’s cute."

Fives huffs. "What if I was?"

"Then I’d ask what you did with the real Fives," Jesse laughs.

"Don’t you ever get tired of it?" Fives asks. "The Erotic Bingo? Meaningless sex?"

"Nope,” Jesse says and takes another swig. "We’re toys. Toy soldiers for the GAR and sex toys for everyone else. Novelties. Created to be used, abused, and thrown away."

"That’s rather grim," Fives says.

"It’s our reality," Jesse retorts. "What did you think you were going to do? Date, settle down, have kids, and live a normal life?"

"I could try," Fives says.

Jesse snorts. “In ten years time, you’ll be old enough to be her father. How gross is that?”

Fives grunts.

"Listen," Jesse says as he puts his drink down and gets serious. "I wish it was different. Maker, I wish it was, but it’s not. This is the life of a clone. We’re only in our prime for a short time, so we have to do what we can before we're old and flaccid."

Fives sighs. "I get that, but–"

"Don’t think about it too much," Jesse interjects. "You’ll just make yourself depressed."

"Hey, you know what?" Jesse says. "There's a woman at the bar that needs to cross off "Dueling Arcs" on her card. You in? Might help you forget about your date."

"Not interested," Fives says dryly. "Echo's somewhere around here. I'm sure he'll do it with you."

Jesse chuckles. "That chick’s got you by the balls, huh?"

"Piss off," Fives sneers.

"Suit yourself," Jesse shrugs. "Careful though, I'd hate to take your place in the Top Ten Most Erotic Clones."

Fives rolls his eyes. He used to enjoy that title, now all it does is remind him of what he can't have, you. The Erotic Bingo lottery system was created soon after the war began. Apparently,  the clones gained a cult following after civilians began to figure out that clones were attractive. The senate and the GAR realized they could bank on this new found interest, and created an Erotic Bingo lottery-type game that would benefit the clones, civilians, and the GAR's funds.

The Erotic Bingo game is pretty simple. People all over Coruscant can purchase the bingo cards at any lottery kiosk on the planet. The bingo cards have a range of prices that correspond to the difficulty of making multiple bingos or getting a blackout. The cards are labeled from 'D' tier being the easiest and cheapest, in terms of purchase and payout, to 'S' tier being the hardest and most expensive. The more bingos made and the more expensive the card, the better the payout.

The Erotic Bingo cards have a wide range of sexual activities from tame vanilla intercourse, mutual masturbation, and oral sex, all the way up to the most degrading and disgusting kinky sex imaginable. Usually, only the 'S' tier cards contain the extreme activities, but on occasion, an 'A' tier card will have one or two. Some common squares are: "sex with a shiny", "dueling arcs", "suck a sergeant", "commander facial", "69 at 79s", "barcs and arfs", and "medic masturbation".

The clones don't get much of a choice in the Erotic Bingo game. They can refuse an offer to fulfill a square, but most don't. It's the only way a clone is allowed to make any credits. When a clone scans their identichip into the bingo card, they automatically receive their kick-back as a direct deposit when the bingo card is returned. If a bingo was not achieved, then there's no kick-back. So, in reality, it's in a clone's best interest to fulfill as many squares as possible.

Many of the battalions have fully leaned into the Erotic Bingo game, making it a part of their culture. The 212th basically runs a gentlemen's club. They don't perform a lot of 'S' acts, but they do get a lot of repeat customers. The 104th is all about the animalistic kinks, like breeding. They call it the "Wolffe Den'' and it's exactly what it sounds like. Then there's the Coruscant Guard and their "Dungeon". For those interested in whips and bondage, that's the place to be.

The 501st, on the other hand, doesn't have a particular theme, but dabbles in a little bit of everything. A person can rarely find an unwilling participant in the 501st, but any square dealing with a commander has to go somewhere else, considering Rex is a captain. It's the only type of squares the 501st can't do. The Jedi disapprove of the entire system, and refuse to take part in any of it, but they didn't have a say in the system's creation and neither did the clones.

The GAR even built a hierarchy system of the "Top Ten Most Erotic Clones," which is where Fives landed himself after filling out countless bingo cards. And as Hardcase pointed out previously, he has a waiting list a mile long. For shinies, it's a right of passage to scan their names on a bingo card, but for higher ranking, popular clones, it becomes a full time job when they're on leave. It fills their every waking moment, and at least for Fives, it's dulled his libido.

Fives began to question the whole Erotic Bingo lottery system after he saw Tup come back to the barracks late one night, crawl into his bunk, and refuse to speak to anyone for days. Only Kix knew what happened and Fives never asked. Sometimes, attractive young clones get pulled aside to fulfill Erotic Bingo cards for the upper echelons of Coruscant, like senators. Tup ended up in that category, and Fives wasn't surprised at Tup's reaction, since senators buy the 'S' tier cards.

He doesn't want to do it anymore. He's tired of the meaningless, trivial, and almost chore-like sex, with not a single emotional bond ever created in the process. Everyone, literally, comes and leaves, like he's an object they can use to get themselves off, then either toss him out or come back to reuse him again. He's a walking dildo without a vibrate feature. And yet, the game is so ingrained in the clone culture, that backing out is considered taboo and he could be shunned.

After he met you, he wanted to be done with it. All of it. The sex, the Erotic Bingo game, the credits, the titles. He was ready to throw it all away just to have someone like you in his life. Someone kind, sweet, endearing, and funny. There was an actual spark when he talked to you. His heart fluttered and his body felt things it hadn't felt in so long. He just wanted to get to know you, but he screwed it up, and you left 79's hating him. He wants a second chance and to try again.

Fives downs the rest of his Corellian ale and grimaces at its disgusting warmth, but why waste the credits. He places the empty bottle on the table and decides to head back to the barracks to turn in early. There's nothing left for him to do at 79's tonight, so there's no point in staying. He glances at the bar on his way out and sees that Jesse found Echo. He wishes he could cheer them on at their endeavor, but he can't. Watching them only tightens the knot in his stomach.

Back at the barracks, he lies down on his bunk and thinks about how he's going to approach you again. However, his thoughts keep being interrupted by the sounds of breathy grunting from several of the bunks. Normally, he would zone it out, or maybe start masturbating to it, but not tonight. The only thing on his mind right now is you, and somehow touching himself to the image of you in his mind seems wrong after what happened. So, he is forced to listen until they finish.

Regardless of what is going on around him, he's still thinking about you. He runs all of the events through his mind, over and over again, trying to figure out why he didn't ask you out on a date somewhere else. Even an old diner would have been better than 79's. All of the signs were there that you would be repulsed by his sex-working lifestyle, but he chose to ignore them, and he doesn't know why. Maybe he was anxious and wanted the safety net of 79's to calm his nerves.

Fives groans and rolls onto his stomach, squishing his face into his pillow. Overthinking this is doing absolutely nothing to help him, and neither are the erotic sounds echoing throughout the barracks. He pulls the pillow out from under his face and presses it over his ears, trying to muffle the sounds so he can think properly without his dick getting in the way. Finally, he realizes that all he has to do is undo the misunderstanding and he should be able to win you back, hopefully.

You wake up this morning feeling worse than you did the morning before your date with Fives. With all of the crying you did last night, your face is all red and puffy. You try splashing some cold water on it, but it doesn't do you much good. Perhaps a bit of make-up can mask your broken heart. Although, you're not sure what you're so upset about. You've only known the man for barely two rotations and you're crying over him like you've been together for years.

There's no use wallowing in your own sorrow, so you do what you always do when life discourages you. You put your big girl panties on and go to work. At least your customers will be a good distraction for you. They won't try to have sex with you. Besides, it's only your third week on Coruscant, and there are plenty more men where he came from. Then again, if all the clones are in on the erotic-bingo-whatever-thing, then maybe there aren't as many fish in the sea as you hope.

Either way, you're sure you'll find someone to love you for who you are, and not just for your anatomy. But you can't shake the disappointment that you wish it was Fives. He checked all of your boxes and you really wanted it to be him. Even after you stormed out of 79's, all you could see when you closed your eyes was his smile. It was genuine. You quickly shake the thoughts away before you start going down the rabbit hole. You saw who he was, and that's the end of it.

Just as you predicted, your mind is in a better place when you start working. Your regular customers come in and get the same orders as they usually do, and you chat with them while you make their specialty drinks. They ask you how you are doing, and you give them a generic answer so that they won't pester you. You would rather talk about them right now, and not yourself. Keeping your mind occupied with others helps you stay focused on the task at hand.

However, you nearly drop the latte you're holding when you see a clone standing outside the large transparisteel storefront. Your heart starts racing, but you tell yourself it's just a coincidence. There are millions of clones on Coruscant. It could be anyone. You watch him out of the corner of your eye when he enters the shop, and that's when you see his goatee and the Aurebesh tattoo on his temple. You take a deep breath as he approaches the ordering counter.

"What are you doing here?" you ask while crossing your arms.

"A cup of caf and a credit for your time?" Fives asks as he puts a few credits down on the counter.

"I'm not a stripper," you huff. "I can't be bought."

"I know," Fives sighs. "And that's not what this is."

"Then what do you want?" you ask.

"To have a cup of caf and talk," Fives says. "That's it. I promise."

You roll your eyes and swipe the credits off the counter, then pour two mugs of regular hot caf. You call back to your supervisor to let them know that you're going on break, then pull your apron over your head and hang it up. You pick up the two mugs and signal Fives to follow you to one of the corner tables, then set the mugs of caf down opposite each other. You pull out one of the chairs and sit, then cross your legs, lean back, and fold your arms over your chest.

"You've got fifteen minutes," you say.

"I'm sorry," Fives begins. "For what happened at 79's."

"You lied to me," you accuse.

"That's not true," Fives says calmly. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to get the wrong idea."

"What other idea was there?" you ask. "You had me meet you at a strip club where I got bombarded by half-naked clones asking me how I made it on your 'hit list' for Erotic Bingo. What did you think I was going to think?"

"I… I don't know," Fives grimaces and glances away. "I just…" he pauses. "I just wanted to talk and get to know you. I swear. There was nothing else."

You lean forward, set your elbows on the table, and place your chin over your clasped fingers. "There's always something else," you say. "It's all you men ever want. All you care about is sex and I don't want it."

"I don't want it either!" Fives exclaims, then hushes himself when he remembers he's in a public place. "I don't."

"They all say that in the beginning," you huff. "Then they get you all emotionally attached and try to force you to do what they want. Well, I don't buy it for one standard second."

Fives sighs and smooths his index finger around the rim of his mug. "You know, I thought you would be different."

You furrow your brows at his words.

"You talked about not judging people based on where they came from," Fives explains. "Well, I didn't get a choice in being created, or being a soldier, or being a kriffing pleasure object. You get to leave your past behind and make a new life, but mine has to stay with me, right?"

"Fives…" you say. 

He's right. You're judging him the same way he judged you when you told him you were from Onderon. It's true, the clones didn't have a choice in where they came from as much as you didn't have a choice in where you came from. He's throwing your own hypocrisy back into your face and you're mortified. The roles are reversed. You both thought of each other as different from the rest; what you were searching for, but ignorance and misjudgment clouded it.

Fives sighs and gets up from the table. "I guess we both lied."

"Wait, Fives," you say to try and stop him. You get up from the table and reach out to grab his arm, but you pull your hand back before making contact.

"Thanks for the caf," Fives says, then walks out the door.

You slump back down into the chair, mouth gaping in shock, feeling dazed by the whiplash you just endured. Regret washes over you and you can't believe what just happened. He came all this way, to your comfort zone, to try and apologize and explain himself, but you refused to hear it. You could kick yourself for the awful way you acted towards him. He was wrong about you and you were wrong about him. It was all just a giant misunderstanding. Maker, you're an idiot.

You scramble out of your chair and race towards the door, pushing it open and looking down the street towards where he went. You can still see him, casually walking further away. You can't let him go, not yet. You can still fix this. Everything can still be salvaged. You only need to apologize and start over. It's so simple, yet why didn't you realize sooner? You run down the street, trying to catch up with him. It might already be too late, but you have to try. You have to.

"Fives!" you yell as you get closer.

Fives turns around and his eyes widen in surprise.

"Wait!" you yell, finally closing the distance. You stop in front of him and pant at the exertion. "I'm sorry. You were right. I judged you before I even got to know you. I'm so sorry." Tears start rolling down your face.

"Hey, it's okay," Fives says, and he chances to wipe away one of your tears. "Don't cry. Please?"

"It's just… so hard," you say in between sniffles. "I'm so far away from home. I barely know anyone. The planet is so big and I'm so small."

"Shhh," Fives soothes. "It's okay. Sit here." Fives ushers you to sit down on the sidewalk against the wall, and he sits down next to you and listens.

"I just… I wanted a friend," you cry into your knees. "I wanted you to be my friend, and then all the sex stuff scared me, because it's not who I am. I don't care about it. I don't want it. I don't need it. I've had people leave me over it."

Fives sits silently next to you and waits for you to finish.

"I'm sorry," you say as you wipe your face with your sleeve. "I don't know what came over me, and I feel so stupid for crying after everything I said."

"Apology accepted," Fives says. "And you're not stupid."

You sigh. "One of us has to be."

"Then it's probably me," Fives admits.

"Can we both be stupid?" you ask with a small laugh.

"Sure," Fives smiles. "Hi stupid, I'm Fives."

You burst out laughing, and all of a sudden, every fear and reservation you have about Fives melts away. He really is just a nice guy that did the best he could with the hand that he was dealt, just like you did. It's amazing how two complete strangers, from different corners of the galaxy can somehow meet by chance and click together like puzzle pieces. Your heart feels warm and full of life, and you can't help but smile at the way he makes you feel; complete.

"You know," Fives says as he taps his knee. "I'd love to be your friend, and ditch the Erotic Bingo game while I'm at it."

"Really?" you ask, hope brimming in your tear-stained eyes.

"Really," Fives says with a smile. "I want connection, and the bingo game can't give me that, but you can."

"What about sex?" you ask. "I can't promise you that I'll ever want it."

Fives chuckles. "I've had enough sex to last me four life-times. Trust me. I can go without it."

"Are you sure?" you ask.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Fives says. "Just let me know what's okay, and what's not, and we'll go from there."

You smile and lay your head against Fives' shoulder. "This is okay."

Fives smiles and lays his head atop yours. "Okay."

Soon after you agreed to be friends, Fives did indeed ditch the Erotic Bingo game, much to his brother's displeasure. He wasn't completely shunned out of the culture, especially by his own battalion, but there were plenty of clones that disagreed with his choice and they weren't afraid to show it. Fives was strong though, and he suffered through it like a champ, even convincing a few of his closest brothers to ditch the game as well and seek out more meaningful connections.

Now, it's been a year since your fateful encounter with Fives and both of you have thrived. Your friendship quickly bloomed into a beautiful partnership. Without an ability to make any income, you helped support Fives' needs with your own job. It became easier once you were promoted to shift manager and began earning more credits. The extra credits also afforded you to find a bigger apartment, so that Fives could move in with you. It's been a lot of fun having a roommate.

When he's not off-world fighting the Republic's war, he's home with you, relaxing on the couch and watching holo-movies with you. Sometimes, you'll start a holo-series, then he'll get an assignment and have to leave. He'll beg you on his hands and knees not to watch it without you, and you don't, most of the time. Other times you'll start a pillow fight, or make brownies, or just talk and laugh at stupid jokes until your sides hurt and tears start rolling down your cheeks.

You can't believe that in such a short time, Fives has become the center of your world. He's your best friend, and he's never once asked you for sex or kisses or touches or anything else that you weren't ready for. He's completely content with what he already has with you and always waits until you initiate an act first. Even then, he will ask you a few more times before reciprocating, just to be sure it's what you want and not something you feel pressured into.

Today it's early evening, and you both just finished a delicious dinner that you made together. You're working on putting the leftovers away in the conservator and Fives is standing in front of the sink washing the dishes. You stop what you're doing for a moment and watch him. You're not sure when you finally fell in love with him, but you know you are; it's unmistakable. You walk up behind him, wrap your arms around his middle, and press yourself tight against his back.

Fives smiles at the warm gesture, but keeps scrubbing the plate in his hand with the sponge.

"Fives?" you ask.

"Mhm?" Fives hums.

"I think I'm ready," you say.

"Ready for what?" Fives asks.

"To make love," you say.

Fives stops scrubbing the plate. "You think?" he asks over his shoulder. "Are you sure?"

You stand on the tips of your toes and place a soft kiss at the nape of his neck, just at the base of his hairline. This is the first time you've kissed him and you can tell it's having an effect. A few of the hairs stand on end after you remove your lips and it makes you smile. He probably wasn't expecting it, and to be honest, neither were you. But the way he was standing there, doing the dishes, stirred something in you that you've never felt before. You nuzzle your face into his back.

"I trust you," you whisper against his shirt. "With all of my heart."

Fives places the dish down in the sink with the sponge resting on top, and dries his hands with the dish towel. He turns around to look at you, studying your face to make sure there are no hints of reservation or anything that would raise a red flag that you are feeling pressured to say this. Sensing nothing, he wraps his arms around your back and pulls you gently against him, barely allowing your bodies to touch, then tilts your chin up to lovingly stare into your soft eyes.

"Cyare, are you sure?" he asks again. "I don't want it if you don't want it."

"I want it," you insist. "I want… I want to be the last notch in your bedpost."

Fives smiles and kisses your forehead. "It's reserved just for you."

Masterlist

AO3

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[fantasyescapes17]

This is War (the Soldier I)

Lieutenant Colonel Lee Jihoon isn't sure exactly why he's fighting this war or if he's even on the right side. He only knows two things: one, his brother Joshua's death was not an accident; and two, the Empire has no shortage of dark secrets waiting to be uncovered.

Genre: dystopian!AU, war!AU

Warnings: Violence, war, general death and devastation, strong language, character deaths, sexual themes (no explicit smut, only implication), dark themes overall, slow burn and plot-heavy. There's nothing you wouldn't find in a typical dystopian YA novel, but its still not for the light-hearted.

Word Count: 10.7k+ [Won't lie, this is 10k words of pure plot and world build-up. The reader and half the important characters haven't even appeared yet, and the romance hasn't started. Buckle up, we're in for a long ride.]

Prologue + Masterlist

Marcet Sine Adversario Virtus.

The ancient Latin phrase was engraved on an imposing metal plaque underneath a large statue of the Empire's emblem. 

A delicate golden rose with thorns.

Lieutenant Colonel Lee Jihoon sat at his desk directly in front of that rose statue. The statue was a permanent fixture in the cabins of all high-ranking military personnel stationed at Military Base 1. The golden rose and metal plaque served as a reminder to the cabin's visitors that they were not merely addressing Lieutenant Colonel Lee, but an esteemed officer of the Empire. 

Military Base 1 was a staggering edifice. The walls and buildings were made of dark bullet-proof glass that soared into the skies, looming far above the crumbling tenements that formed the rest of the city. It was located in the heart of the Empire. An impenetrable fortress behind which the Empire’s loyal military officers strategized ways to protect their dwindling population.

Military Base 1 was the bedrock of the Empire. The harsh thorns which protected the delicate rose within. 

“Sir? May I come in?”

Lieutenant Colonel Lee Jihoon looked up to find Captain Kwon standing hesitantly in the doorway of the cabin. The young Captain’s eyes lingered uncomfortably on the golden rose, before he briskly saluted his commanding officer. 

Jihoon nodded. 

“Come in, Captain Kwon. At ease.”

Captain Kwon Soonyoung entered. The cabin's walls were covered with military insignia and medals reflecting Lieutenant Colonel Lee’s numerous achievements. He had obtained many colourful laurels during his short but successful military career. While impressive, the laurels could not fully distract Soonyoung from the gaudy golden rose that glimmered threateningly behind Lee Jihoon’s unsmiling face. 

“Here to report, sir.”

Jihoon nodded and stood. He had been sitting at his desk all morning, and his legs were beginning to feel stiff. There was no space to move around with that infernal rose statue taking up half of his cabin. 

He leaned against the desk and looked at Captain Kwon. 

“I heard there was some commotion in the barracks earlier. Any cause for concern?”

Captain Kwon bit his lip. “Not at all, sir. It was a minor tussle between some of the newer recruits. They, uh, snuck an illegally recorded copy of Vesta’s new film into the barracks. I had to confiscate it from them.”

Jihoon raised an eyebrow. “And where is the film now?”

Captain Kwon blushed. “Sir?”

“I hope you didn’t keep it.”

“I-sir-”

“Dispose of it immediately,” Lieutenant Colonel Lee ordered. His handsome face was unsmiling. “You may cancel training for today and let the men have the evening off. The Brigadier-General is hosting an unveiling party for the new unmanned combat vehicles- all the high-ranked officers will be occupied anyway.”

Captain Kwon smiled brightly. An evening off sounded excellent.  

“Ah-yes, sir.”

“I don’t want to see you or the men putting themselves at risk for trifles. If they want to watch Vesta’s new film, tell them to pay money and watch it honestly in the theatre.”

“Of course, sir. Thank you, sir.”

The corner of Lieutenant Colonel Lee’s lips curved upward in a hint of a smile. 

“What are you thanking me for?”

Captain Kwon cleared his throat awkwardly. 

“I’d be lying if I said that Vesta’s films don’t go a long way to boost morale among the men, sir. She’s captured many hearts in the barracks. They would give up their lives for her, just as soon as they’d give up their lives for the Empire. Beautiful women are every man’s weakness.”

“Hopefully not every man,” Lieutenant Colonel Lee muttered. 

Captain Kwon hesitated, worried that he had offended his commanding officer. It was difficult to predict how Lieutenant Colonel Lee would respond to any given statement. Jihoon was famously impulsive. 

“Of course not, sir. I only meant to say-”

“You’re dismissed, Captain Kwon. Have a nice evening.”

“T-thank you, sir. You too, sir.”

Lieutenant Colonel Lee Jihoon leaned against his desk as he watched his subordinate leave. Then he closed  his files and straightened his military uniform. He would have to meet the Brigadier-General for another night of drinking and raunchy entertainment, under the facade of unveiling newly designed unmanned combat vehicles. 

What a criminal waste of time, Jihoon thought to himself, when there are so many more sinister things taking place in this very Military Base.

As Jihoon walked out of the cabin, he glanced back once more at the enormous thorned rose and the ancient Latin phrase. The symbols of the Empire. 

Marcet Sine Adversario Virtus. 

Or, in the modern tongue, valour withers without an adversary. 

He smiled wryly at the foolishness of the Empire’s ancient motto. Evidently, the people in charge had been in a hurry to justify the war they were starting and had not considered one crucial possibility. 

What if the Empire’s biggest adversary was not outside its walls? 

What if it was hiding deep within? 

—----------------------------------------------

Research Division 3 (or RD-3, as it was often abbreviated) was the military’s golden child. 

Every few months, the scientists up at RD-3 designed a glamorous new weapon of warfare, which was unveiled and paraded around at a special display for high-ranking officers. Each new weapon brought the Empire a step closer to winning the war against the Invaders, so celebration was deemed appropriate. 

In truth, the displays were simply an excuse for the commanding officers of Military Base 1 to gamble, drink and cavort with women. 

Deep down, humans were all the same. 

“Lieutenant Colonel Lee! You’re late, as always!” the Brigadier-General called out in his booming voice. The large older man was extremely drunk. His gray beard was stained from spilled wine, and he wrapped an arm around Jihoon in a friendly manner. The Brigadier-General had never had much regard for personal space. “How is it that you’re always the first to arrive at the military briefings, but you can never turn up to a party in time, eh?”

Jihoon forced his lips into a tight smile. “I apologise, sir. I had to finish my reports for the day.”

“Surely an unfiled report has never hurt anybody!”

“I’d rather not find out, sir.”

Lee Jihoon had acquired a reputation as a passionate and loyal young officer of the Empire. The Brigadier-General may have been a drunkard, but he was no idiot. The older man knew that Jihoon was destined for great things. It would not hurt to keep the promising young officer close as he climbed the ranks. 

“Excellent work, Lieutenant Colonel Lee. Officers like you keep the Empire safe.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I know you don’t enjoy these unveiling parties but we must let RD-3 show off their little toys, eh? It’s the least we can do. But I know what will cheer you up! We have a special guest today, and she’s an absolute beauty. Come and have a look at her.”

Jihoon accepted the glass of wine offered to him and followed the Brigadier-General into the crowd of people. 

The unveiling party was held in the ballroom of Military Base 1’s recreation wing. The enormous hall buzzed with high-ranking military officials, their wives and other entertainers. A group of scantily-clad dancers occupied the stage. A lady in red crooned into the microphone. 

“Now, where did that pretty little thing go?” the Brigadier-General wondered. 

Jihoon’s hawk eyes took three seconds to scan the room and spot what his superior officer was looking for. Near the back of the ballroom, a group of male officers were crowded around a beautiful young woman. She had a stunning smile, and batted her eyelashes prettily at the eager men surrounding her. 

Jihoon sighed. He was unimpressed. “Sir, do you mean-”

“There she is!”

The Brigadier-General made a bee-line for the beautiful actress. Jihoon struggled to keep up. Some of the younger officers scattered at the sight of the Brigadier-General, but Vesta’s pretty eyes sparkled. 

She gave the older man a sultry smile. 

“Oh, Brigadier-General! I was beginning to wonder if you’d left me alone,” Vesta cooed. It was evident that she was not alone. There were half a dozen men around her, but the actress was an expert at flattering officers of rank.

The Brigadier-General grinned foolishly. “Never, my dear, never. I only stepped away to welcome Lieutenant Colonel Lee to the party. He’s a bit uptight, you see, and he needs some company at these gatherings. Lieutenant Colonel Lee, this is Vesta. Of course you recognize the most beautiful woman in the Empire.”

Jihoon barely glanced at the actress and nodded. “I am familiar with your work.”

Vesta giggled inspidly. “Oh, he’s so stiff!”

“Yes, Jihoon can be rather serious, but he’s a good man. Never mind him, darling. Tell us that lovely story about filming The Last Commander,” the Brigadier- General insisted. 

Vesta began retelling an anecdote about how she had been moved to cry real tears in the climactic scene where her character’s husband was revealed to have died on the battlefield. The men listened, riveted. 

Jihoon watched the actress disinterestedly for a few moments, before finishing his glass of wine and looking around in hopes of a refill. 

He needed air. 

There had been a time when Lieutenant Colonel Lee enjoyed gatherings like these. Early in his budding military career, he had felt it was an honour to be invited to a weapons unveiling. Now, Jihoon only wished there existed some alcohol or drug strong enough to make him forget the entirety of these events.

He sauntered outside.  

Adjoining the ballroom was an outdoor platform that served as an enormous balcony and helipad. Men and women in white lab coats scurried around the sparkly new unmanned combat vehicle and prepared it for the display. The ‘vehicle’, with the words Aeris VII labelled on the side was actually a drone the size of a small helicopter, made entirely of bulletproof fibreglass. 

Jihoon sighed. It looked exactly like all the other aerial combat vehicles the military already possessed. 

“What’s so special about this one?” he asked a passing dark-haired scientist in a white coat who didn't appear busy.

The scientist blinked at Jihoon, his expression suddenly changing as he eyed Jihoon's military uniform and the pin on his shoulder signifying his rank. 

“Sorry, sir?” the man asked. 

“What is so special about this one? Didn’t RD-3 release an unmanned aerial combat vehicle three months ago? What does this one do better than the last?” Jihoon asked. 

The scientist looked  nervous. Jihoon suddenly realised that even though he was wearing a white coat, there was no patch on the scientist's chest signifying that he was an employee of RD-3. All the other white coats bore patches of either RD-2 or RD-3. 

“Uh, I’m not-I’m not part of the design team for this. I was just observing,” explained the scientist carefully. 

“What team are you a part of?”

The scientist’s eyes darted back and forth nervously. He seemed uncomfortable under Jihoon’s curious gaze. “I’m under Research Division 1, my apologies. The weapons are handled by RD-3…”

Something struck Jihoon as odd. He had never met anyone from Research Division 1 before. To be perfectly honest, he wasn’t even entirely sure what Research Division 1 did. Was the work highly confidential? It wasn't talked about as much as RD-3’s warfare weapons, or RD-2’s agricultural research. He suddenly remembered hearing about it long ago, from a familiar voice...

“What does Research Division 1-”

“Excuse me, I need to leave.”

The scientist hurried back inside the crowded ballroom and Jihoon stared after him, a sour taste in his mouth. Something was wrong about the way that scientist had been looking at him. Did he know Jihoon? Did he have reason to keep something from him? Jihoon wasn’t sure, but his interest had been piqued. 

What did Research Division 1 do? 

Where had Jihoon heard about it and why did the dark-haired scientist look familiar? 

“Sir, can I help you?” another of the white-coated scientists asked. This woman had a large smile on her face and a patch on her chest that read RD-3. She looked far more welcoming than the previous man. “Are you curious about the new design for the unmanned aerial combat vehicle? We’d love to give you a briefing!”

Jihoon blinked and nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

“The upgraded vehicle is more aerodynamic. It’s lighter, it can carry heavier missiles and it moves faster. We’ve also fixed some failures in the defensive capability of the bulletproof fibreglass. This one can withstand open fire for longer than the older models…”

Jihoon had lost interest. 

------------------------------------------------

At exactly 11 pm, the senior military officials gathered in the balcony of the ballroom to watch the new unmanned aerial combat vehicle soar spectacularly into the sky for the first time. Jihoon, uninterested in the theatrics of the display, quietly slipped out of the back of the building and into the dimly lit streets of Military Base 1.

A sleek black car with dark windows was parked at the end of the street. Opening the passenger side door swiftly, Jihoon slid into the back. There was a clicking noise behind him once he closed it. 

The car doors had been locked. 

“Cigarette?” Vesta offered. Her fingernails were painted a bold red, which contrasted with the plain white of the cigarette wrapper. A half-empty pack was lying on the seat between them. The car reeked of smoke. 

This was clearly not her first cigarette of the evening. 

Jihoon shook his head. “No, thank you. I’m trying to quit.”

Vesta raised an eyebrow. The pretty, innocent, simpering young lady from the party had disappeared. The actress now slouched carelessly against the leather seats. Her bare feet were crossed and planted on the backrest of the passenger seat in front of her. 

She placed the cigarette between her painted lips.

“Mind if I smoke?” she asked, moving to light it before Jihoon could speak. 

“Joshua didn’t like you smoking.”

“Joshua’s dead,” Vesta replied harshly as she dropped the lighter and took a long, shaky drag.

“He was worried about your health-”

“There are more disgusting substances entering my body on a daily basis than tobacco, for fuck’s sake. Cut me some slack,” Vesta snapped. She took another long drag before her face relaxed and she chuckled. “Great job pretending not to know me back there. I’m familiar with your work? You could have at least pretended to be a fan.”

Jihoon frowned. It was all he could think to say on such short notice. He hadn’t expected to see Vesta at the unveiling party, and there was no reason for him to be acquainted with a successful actress like her. At least, no reason that could be spoken about openly under the watchful eye of the Empire. They needed to appear to be perfect strangers in public.  

Which wasn’t difficult because in truth, they were strangers. 

Jihoon didn’t know Vesta's likes and dislikes, or  what sort of a person she was. He knew nothing about her past or present life. All Jihoon knew was that they shared one simple thing. 

Love, for a man who was now dead. 

“How is it going?” Vesta asked. The dark tinted car windows were shut so the smoke she exhaled remained inside the car. It was suffocating. Jihoon glanced longingly at the cigarettes and closed his eyes.He had not had a cigarette since Joshua’s death. It had been four months and he wasn’t about to give in now. 

“How is what going?” Jihoon wondered. 

Vesta chuckled. “Your attempts to be transferred to the Border Forces. Is anyone taking you seriously or are they telling you to be a good little boy and wait? You can tell me. I have plenty of experience being patronised.”

“It’s not easy.”

“Nothing is easy in this place.”

Jihoon folded his arms across his chest and frowned. “It took two years before Joshua’s application to be transferred to the Border Forces was accepted by high command. I doubt they’ll accept mine anytime soon. I’m not as friendly with the high-ranking officers as Joshua was.”

“You’re not as friendly as Joshua was, period.”

Jihoon gave her a frustrated look. He was tired of her sharp words and unconcerned attitude. Vesta seemed to be treating Joshua’s death with a sense of carelessness that infuriated him. Couldn’t she at least pretend to care? 

“Yes, thank you. I’m trying to find out the secret behind the death of a man that meant the world to me. I assumed from the fact that he sent you a similar letter that he meant something to you. Maybe I was wrong.”

Vesta lowered her eyes. “You’re not wrong.”

“So what is your problem?”

“My problem? My problem is that I’m tired of being in love with a man who’s dead, Jihoon. They don’t award you medals for that sort of loyalty. I’m in this shit alone because Lieutenant Colonel Joshua Hong thought it was a good idea to go chasing after something that he should have kept his fucking nose out of,” Vesta snapped. 

Her eyes were red as she lifted the cigarette to her lips once more. 

“Joshua really wouldn’t want you to keep smoking that-”

“Fuck you,” Vesta replied. She reached down and aggressively stubbed the half-finished cigarette into her ashtray, putting it out. “I don’t even want it anymore. Are you happy that you’ve taken away the one thing that actually makes me happy in this world, Lee Jihoon?”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. 

“I didn’t take anything away. You put it out yourself.”

Vesta stared at him in disbelief. She felt a burning anger flow through her as she met Jihoon’s calm and judgemental eyes. Was this what Joshua had left her? After all his tall promises and romantic words he had gotten himself killed, leaving behind a dark secret and his insufferable younger half-brother to babysit?

“What are we doing, Jihoon?” she demanded. 

“We’re trying to find out why Joshua had to die.”

“And then what? Even if Joshua was right, if there is some dark secret in Military Base 1 and he was killed because he knew too much… what next? We don’t have a plan. We don’t have support. How do you intend to exact revenge against whoever is responsible by yourself, Jihoon? You, and whose army?”

Jihoon bristled. “I have a battalion.”

Vesta laughed scornfully. “No. You don’t have a battalion. The Empire has a battalion that they put you in charge of, and they can take it away from you anytime they please.”

“Then we’ll build a new army. We’ll find someone with whom our interests align. There’s a whole world outside of Military Base 1. Rebel organisations, an enormous organised resistance underground. I’ve seen glimpses of it during peacekeeping missions. I know it exists. We could be a part of it,” Jihoon insisted heatedly. 

“Why, though?”

“What?”

“Why would you join a resistance? What has the Empire ever done to you that you would rebel against it?” Vesta demanded.

“There’s definitely something happening. Joshua died less than a week after he left for the Border Forces-” Jihoon insisted. 

“He died in the course of duty.”

“That’s what they say.”

“You have nothing that proves otherwise, Jihoon. Nothing. None of the high-ranking commanders of the Border Forces will speak to you. You don’t know what Joshua was investigating. All you have is a vaguely worded letter from a man who died after being transferred to the most dangerous division of the military. The Empire even awarded him a posthumous medal for bravery. I’m tired.  I don’t know how much longer we should keep doing this.”

Jihoon clenched his fists. “I know this is difficult-”

“It’s impossible. Do you understand how helpless you are in this world? How helpless and alone we both are?”

“I have leads. Just trust me for a little longer. I need to find out why Joshua had to die, I know I can. I can find the people responsible and I need your help.”

Vesta and Jihoon stared at each other for a long moment. It was difficult to read the young woman; she was an actress, after all, and her words and expressions often changed so swiftly and erratically that it was hard to tell just where the actress ended and the real woman began. Jihoon had a feeling that he hadn’t even scratched the surface of whatever Vesta really was. Jihoon didn’t have the time, energy or inclination to dig below her abrasive personality. 

But Joshua had trusted her. 

So Jihoon had decided that he would trust her too. 

“Fine,” Vesta replied, finally. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Do you know anything about Research Division 1? What sort of work do they do?” Jihoon wondered. “I remember Joshua mentioning it once, but I can’t remember what he said.”

“Research Division 1? Does that even exist?”

“If 2 and 3 exist then isn’t it logical to assume that RD-1 exists too? Is there anyone you can ask to learn something about that?” Jihoon asked. There were a lot of questions that would arouse suspicion coming from an officer of the military, but might sound harmless coming from a seemingly air-headed actress. 

“I’m meeting Major-General Jung in his apartment tomorrow, I can ask him. Why do you want to know?”

“Just a hunch. See if he’ll say anything about the Border Forces too-”

“I’ve tried that before. The Major-General never talks about the Border Forces, even when he’s drunk. He sobers up as soon as I mention it and it’s unpleasant because things are a lot easier for me when he’s not sober,” Vesta replied firmly. 

Jihoon groaned. “He knows something.”

“It’s no use to us if he won’t talk about it. Just because he's reluctant to reveal confidential military information doesn’t mean it’s anything to do with Joshua's death.”

“Can you search his personal office?”

“Do you want me to die?” Vesta snapped. “Because if your aim is to unite me with Joshua in heaven then that would be the perfect way to go about it. The Major-General’s home is filled with security officers at all times. He keeps himself well protected. The rebels would love to take a crack at the commander of the Internal Peacekeeping Forces.”

Jihoon sighed. “Never mind.”

“I’ll get in touch with you if I have anything to tell you, okay?”

“Fine, I get it.”

“Go back before they notice you’re missing from the weapons unveiling,” Vesta suggested. Jihoon nodded. He unlocked the car door and then glanced back at the actress. He cleared his throat. 

“Take-uh, take care.”

Vesta smiled emotionlessly. “Sure. As soon as I find something worth taking care of.”

—---------------------------------------------

Once upon a time, the Empire had been a peaceful place. 

Jihoon had grown up during those times but he could barely remember them. He had vague memories of his mother’s flower garden and the smell of her home-cooked pies. He had once gone to school. He had family and neighbours and friends. What had happened to them all? Jihoon wasn’t sure. He hadn’t seen any of them since the first Air Strikes. 

Air Strike Zero was the starting of the War. 

Jihoon remembered huddling in the basement of their small house with his mother and his half-brother Joshua, terrified and not understanding what was happening as the ground shook and explosives fell from the sky.

It was only three days later, when they emerged from their basement, cold and hungry, that they learned the truth. 

The War had begun. 

Joshua had never been one to sit still. Long before the military had declared mandatory conscription for all able-bodied men, Joshua signed up to fight. We have to protect ourselves, Joshua had said the night before he left. We are at War. 

Jihoon had stayed home with his mother until he turned 18. But she had always been of fragile health, and a world at war was no place for her. The older woman's heart gave out and Jihoon had to bury her two weeks before his 18th birthday. Then he enlisted for the army and joined his brother in the ranks. Theirs was not the only family that had been torn apart by the War. 

The War either killed you, or made a soldier out of you. 

Jihoon chose to be a soldier. 

—-------------------------------------------

Captain Kwon’s face was white. 

“Sir, we seem to… um, we seem to be missing some items from the weapons storage, sir.”

Lieutenant Colonel Lee Jihoon snapped his head up to look at the trembling man in front of him. 

His dark eyes narrowed dangerously. 

“What?”

“Lieutenant Smith did inventory this morning and we’re missing some firearms from Storage Unit 7B,” Captain Kwon repeated. His heartbeat thudded wildly. Kwon Soonyoung dreaded delivering news to the Lieutenant Colonel. Having to deliver bad news to him was simply dreadful. 

"And? Where are they?"

Captain Kwon swallowed. “We’re investigating to find out how we could have lost them. There’s no sign of breaking or entering in the storage unit so it might have been somebody who knew the passcode or had access-”

“Captain Kwon.”

“Y-yes, sir?”

Jihoon stood up and slapped his palms on the desk, hard. His voice was enraged. “Do you think I give a flying fuck who it might have been? I want to know who it was!” 

Captain Kwon swallowed. “Yes, sir. Of course, sir. We’re working on that right now, sir.”

Jihoon pressed his fingertips to his temples. “How many weapons are we missing? What kind? Give me an estimate.”

“Primarily firearms. Lieutenant Smith has found 10 assault rifles, 12 semi-automatic rifles, 3 grenade launchers and a couple of pistols unaccounted for. We’re also doing an emergency inventory check of all the other Storage Units under our control to make sure this is the only storage unit that was targeted,” Captain Kwon rambled on. Perhaps if he kept talking rapidly, then Jihoon wouldn’t have time to yell at him. “There aren’t many soldiers with access to Storage Unit 7B in particular so it must have been someone who was on security duty at some point-”

Jihoon lifted a hand in the air and cut him off. “How many is a couple of pistols?”

Captain Kwon swallowed. “Thirty-five, sir.”

“Thirty-five?” Jihoon demanded. That amounted to a total of 60 deadly firearms. Sixty firearms was no small theft. It was enough to keep a small army going. A small army which was evidently not affiliated to the Empire, or they could have obtained the weapons without committing military treason.

Captain Kwon looked devastated. “Yes, sir.”

“You have two hours to find out who did this before I come down into the barracks and investigate the matter myself. This is likely the work of some rebel organization. That means we have traitors of the Empire here. Traitors. In my battalion. Do you understand the seriousness of this situation, Captain Kwon?”

“Yes sir, I do, sir.”

“Good.”

Captain Kwon shifted on his feet and then cleared his throat. If he was about to be put to death following a court martial then he really wanted to know sooner rather than later. 

“Sir, are you… are you going to be reporting this matter to high command?”

Jihoon folded his arms across his chest. He had no intention of putting his own neck on the line this early. The Empire would not take high-grade weapons being stolen directly from Military Base 1 lightly. 

There would be hell to pay if the culprit was not found. 

“Let’s try to find who did this first. In the absence of anyone else to punish, Captain Kwon, high command may just decide that you and I will be held responsible. I would rather it didn’t come to that.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Find me the traitor. Now. Dismissed.”

-------------------------------------------------

Lieutenant Colonel Lee Jihoon carried his brother’s final letter tucked in the pocket of his military uniform at all times. The folded paper was worn out from having been read so often over the last four months, and every single word was precious to him.  

Jihoon,

I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye before I left. My request to transfer to the Border Forces was accepted on extremely short notice. I leave tonight.

There is something I’ve been investigating. I’ve had my suspicions about the Empire for a long time, but I think I’ve finally found some evidence. I need to go to the Border to confirm my suspicions. When I return I’ll explain everything. If I’m right, then everything we know about our lives could be a lie. 

I’m scared. 

I hope I’m wrong. I really hope I’m wrong.  

If I don’t return, that means the Major-General knows what I’ve found. Don’t trust anyone in the military, Jihoon. Especially not the high command. They don’t care about our lives. All they care about is themselves. They’ve done horrible things in the name of research and war and they’ll stop at nothing to protect their positions. 

Tell Vesta I’m sorry. I wanted to help her but I think I ended up making her life worse. You would probably laugh, Jihoon. I wish I could see the incredulous look on your face when I tell you I fell in love with her. I’m sorry I couldn’t introduce her to you. Maybe, when I return, you can meet her and you’ll see how wonderful she is. 

I want to make you both proud. I hope I can. 

I love you. Stay safe

-Joshua. 

Sometimes Jihoon wondered if his brother had intended to leave him in a state of complete agony. Could a more vague and incomprehensible letter exist? Why couldn’t Joshua have stopped to explain exactly what he was investigating? Life would have been easier even if Joshua had just gone to the Border without leaving a letter at all. 

At least then, Jihoon could have believed that his brother had died bravely in the line of duty, as the Empire claimed. 

Peace of mind can be more valuable than the truth. 

Jihoon possessed neither. 

“Sir? Your written communications have just come in,” a young officer on administrative duty entered the cabin and saluted Lieutenant Colonel Lee before placing a pile of envelopes on the desk. Jihoon quickly tucked the letter into his inner coat pocket and sat up. 

“Thank you, Private. Dismissed.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jihoon looked at the envelopes. All of them were stamped and sealed with the Empire’s emblem; the golden rose with thorns. Most were non-urgent. Field reports, requests for leave and other routine mundane tasks relevant to the maintenance of his forces. There were a handful of invitations to social events being held by high-ranking officers. 

Then Jihoon saw it. 

The only envelope where the rose was hand-drawn instead of stamped with the official Empire stamp. The difference was slight and difficult to notice for an untrained eye, but Jihoon and Vesta had been communicating in this manner for long enough that he instantly knew the envelope was from her. 

He tore it open. 

Asked about RD-1. It's old- it existed even before the Air Strikes, but was shut down shortly after the War began for ethical reasons. Something about human experimentation. Major-General wouldn't elaborate. RD-1 hasn’t been operational for about a decade, so I don’t think it has anything to do with Joshua. 

He also wouldn’t talk about the Border Forces. He never does. 

I heard that the Major General is looking for some new personal security. He’s not allowed to take on-duty soldiers for his personal use, so he hires whoever he can find men from the disciplinary barracks- ones undergoing punishment for frivolous things. Do you have any men we can trust? If you could get them into the disciplinary barracks by tomorrow, then it’s likely they’ll be chosen. Make sure whoever you pick looks a little naive. The man doesn’t like his guards to be smarter than him. 

Lots of concerns about rebel uprisings on the coast. Civilians aren’t complying with the food rationing laws and are hoarding their own farming and fishing produce.

I’ll be at the Brigadier-General’s wedding anniversary party this weekend. See you there. 

Jihoon tore up the letter and reached into his drawer for a lighter. He no longer smoked, but the lighter was still useful for other things. Jihoon watched the sheet of paper curl into ashes on his desk while he tried to process the information. 

How was it possible that RD-1 didn’t exist anymore? If it had been shut down and ceased operations years ago, who was the man in the white coat from the weapons unveiling party? He had clearly stated that she was with RD-1. Jihoon pressed his fingers against his temples and frowned. It seemed like the Empire had more secrets than anyone could have anticipated. Everywhere Jihoon looked, he found inconsistencies and strange rumours. 

But never any solid evidence. Why? 

The door to Jihoon’s cabin opened with a bang. 

“Sir? Permission to enter, sir?” Captain Kwon demanded, lifting his arm in a salute. His eyes were shining and there was a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. 

“Yes, Captain Kwon?”

“We’ve identified the man who stole the weapons, sir. The problem is… he’s already absconded.”

--------------------------------------------

The men stood stiffly to attention. 

“Our culprit is Private Lee Chan of the 7th Squad, sir,” Captain Kwon explained, while Jihoon paced up and down the cramped barracks. The soldiers froze in terror at the sight of the Lieutenant Colonel in their humble sleeping quarters. 

One bed was conspicuously messy and unmade. 

“How did he escape?” Jihoon demanded. 

“He loaded all the firearms into a military transport vehicle and drove it out of Military Base 1 at 6 am this morning. The security personnel suspected nothing because Private Chan often drove military vehicles in his line of duty, sir. We’ve told the gate security forces to keep an eye out if he comes back and hand him over to military police immediately-”

“He’s not coming back.”

Captain Kwon bit his lip. “Sir?”

Jihoon glared at his subordinate officer, making no effort to hide his irritation. “He’s not coming back, Captain Kwon. A Private made off with military-grade firearms that he plans to deliver straight to the rebels in an act of treason and you think he’s going to come back? Why? To face a court-martial and public execution? Don’t be foolish. He'll have gone underground by now.”

Captain Kwon swallowed. “Sorry, sir.” 

"And I suppose none of you noticed the blood leaking out of those blankets?"

There was a dark red stain seeping out of the crumpled blankets on Private Lee Chan's bed. Jihoon stepped forward and tugged at it. A bundle of rags absolutely drenched in blood fell onto the floor along with a solid object. It was a small, metal device the size of Jihoon's fingernail. 

"He cut his identification tag out of his arm and left it right here," Jihoon hissed. "This took you all morning?"

Captain Kwon only trembled.

Lieutenant Colonel Lee Jihoon took a deep breath and then frowned at the other soldiers standing in the barracks. They were all members of the 7th Squad. Men who had been forced to enlist because of the Empire’s ongoing war. Men who would much rather be anywhere but here. They were young and wet behind the ears, Jihoon observed. 

But Private Chan could never have managed something so brave and reckless alone. 

There were more. 

Jihoon intended to find them. 

“How many of you were close to Private Chan?” Jihoon demanded. He looked around at all of the men, but their heads were lowered. They were avoiding eye contact with him. Was it fear? Or defiance? Lieutenant Colonel Lee tried to scan their faces but it was hard to tell the difference. 

“Are you going to answer me or do you all want to be handed over to the military police?”

One of the men spoke up. “He-he was friendly with all of us, sir.”

Jihoon narrowed his eyes at the soldier who had spoken. He was of average height but his rounded face and soft features revealed that he was just a boy. 

“Your name?”

The boy saluted. “Private Boo Seungkwan, sir.”

“Private Boo. I saw your name on the duty roster. Weren’t you in charge of locking up Storage Unit 7B after firing practice yesterday evening? That means you were the last person to see the stolen firearms before Private Chan got his hands on them.”

Private Boo Seungkwan hesitated. He seemed to regret having spoken. “Y-yes sir. But Private Chan was on security duty at the Storage Units from 11pm to 5 am, sir. I clocked out at 10:59 pm after Private Chan came to relieve me from my post. I haven’t seen him since then, sir.”

“And what did you do afterwards, Private Boo?”

Seungkwan’s steady gaze faltered. “Sir?”

“What did you do after Private Chan relieved you from duty at the Storage Units? Did you come straight back to the barracks for a good night’s rest?” Jihoon asked calmly. He watched as Seungkwan nervously exchanged glances with some of the other soldiers. They seemed to be frowning at him. 

“Uh, no sir.”

“You didn’t return to the barracks? What did you do, then?”

“I-I went to watch a film, sir. I returned to the barracks quite late,” Seungkwan admitted. 

“And what film was this?”

Boo Seungkwan’s ears turned pink. “Vesta’s new film, sir. The Last Commander. I-I’m a fan of hers.” 

“So if I understand the situation,” Lieutenant Colonel Lee Jihoon said slowly and dangerously, “you were the last person to see the firearms intact other than the culprit himself. You were also the only soldier who didn’t return to the barracks in time last night because you went to watch a film.”

Seungkwan swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

“Are you aware that enlisted soldiers aren’t allowed to leave official duty for personal reasons or entertainment, unless granted permission by a Commissioned Officer? Did you have permission to go watch this film last night, Private Boo?”

“No, sir.”

Jihoon had heard enough. He turned to Captain Kwon, who was watching the exchange nervously. 

“Well then. We’re done here. The abscondee, Private Chan, is a traitor to the Empire and we have sufficient evidence in the form of his bloody identification tag that somehow nobody here noticed. Captain Kwon, please report the criminal to the military police immediately and have him declared an enemy of the state. They will send out an investigation team to locate him as well as the firearms, so the matter is out of our hands now.”

Captain Kwon nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“As for Private Boo…” Jihoon glanced at the younger soldier. Seungkwan was standing with his fists clenched and sweat beaded on his forehead despite his attempts to look relaxed. “Private Boo will face six months locked up in the disciplinary barracks for taking leave to watch a film without permission.”

Boo Seungkwan blinked. “Sir?”

“Captain Kwon, come see me in my cabin in an hour. The rest of you are dismissed. Go back to training.” 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Captain Kwon had always been punctual, so Jihoon was pleased to hear the young Captain's voice outside his cabin in exactly an hour. 

“Sir. Captain Kwon here on your command, sir.”

Lieutenant Colonel Lee looked up calmly. His dark eyes focused on the young man who was saluting him from the doorway of his cabin. For a brief moment, Jihoon doubted himself. One wrong move could jeopardise everything. If Kwon Soonyoung was loyal to the Empire, then Jihoon’s entire career could be at risk. 

But Lee Jihoon had reached his position in life and rank in the military by trusting his instincts. 

He would simply have to trust them again. 

“Enter, Captain Kwon.”

Soonyoung entered the cabin. Despite being a frequent visitor, he was once again momentarily flustered by the enormous statue of the Empire’s emblem. The golden rose was conspicuous. It took Soonyoung a few moments to refocus his soft eyes on the Lieutenant Colonel sitting at the desk in front of it. 

“Sir.”

“Before we get down to business, Captain Kwon, do you have anything to say to me about the events of this morning?" Jihoon asked. 

Soonyoung paused. The question was loaded. The Lieutenant Colonel did not make small talk; there was almost certainly a right and a wrong answer to this question. 

"I should have supervised the Storage Units more closely, sir."

Jihoon did not blink. "Hmm. Anything else?"

“I request you to reconsider the severity of Private Boo's punishment,” Captain Kwon added. He tried to speak confidently, but Jihoon's sharp and piercing gaze was terrifying. “Sir, I think it’s rather excessive. None of the other privates have been sentenced to six months imprisonment in the disciplinary barracks just for watching a film while they were off-duty.”

“Close the door, Captain.”

Soonyoung's lower lip trembled. “Sir?”

“Close the door and take a seat.”

Kwon Soonyoung obeyed. His hands were trembling so he clasped them together tightly in his lap. Jihoon’s dark gaze and unsmiling face did not help his racing heartbeat. 

“Do you really think,” Jihoon began slowly and carefully, “that I sentenced Private Boo  because he went to watch a film?”

Soonyoung was silent. 

“I sentenced him because we both know that he didn’t watch a film last night. He helped Private Chan load sixty firearms from Storage Unit 7B into a military transport vehicle and then aided his escape from Military Base 1 while you watched. You're many things, Captain Kwon, but you're not incompetent. I don't believe that a lowly Private managed to hoodwink you. The only explanation is that they did this with your help."

Soonyoung's face was turning red. "Sir, with all due respect-"

Jihoon cut him off sharply. "You and Private Boo are not the only members from a rebel organisation in my battalion. I know there are others. I’ve been waiting for one of you fools to out yourselves for a while now.”

Captain Kwon's fists clenched. To Jihoon’s satisfaction, the young man did not look scared anymore. A look of steely determination had crossed his childlike face. Kwon Soonyoung was not as innocent as he tried to appear.  

“With all due respect, Lieutenant Colonel Lee, you can’t prove any part of what you just said,” Soonyoung said stiffly. 

“I have no interest in proving it. Even the suspicion of being affiliated to a rebel organisation is enough to have you court-martialed and executed. But I don’t want to do that, Captain Kwon. You’re not much use to me dead. I have something far more interesting for you to do.”

Soonyoung was silent. 

“I see you’re afraid to open your mouth in case you incriminate yourself. That’s all right. I’m not going to interrogate you about your organization. Frankly, I don’t give a flying fuck what the rebels get up to. What I need is someone to spy on Major General Jung. He’s the commander of the Internal Peacekeeping Forces and the second most powerful man in the Empire. I’m sure your people have their eyes on him. Tell me. How much would information about the Major General’s private dealings and conversations be worth to your organisation?”

Soonyoung was silent but his eyes glimmered. 

“I’m going to help you and Private Boo get into Major General Jung’s house,” Jihoon continued. “I can also help you communicate whatever information you manage to find to your rebel organization. I only need one thing. Everything you find will be reported to me first.”

Kwon Soonyoung’s hands were shaking. His soft eyes wavered in indecision before he suddenly looked boldly up at the Lieutenant Colonel. 

“What’s in it for you?” he demanded. 

Jihoon raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Why do you want us to do this? Clearly there’s some information that you want from Major General Jung. I need to know what your motivation is.”

“That is irrelevant.”

“I think it’s very relevant. You’re asking me to spy on the commanding officer of the Internal Peacekeeping Forces. If Private Boo and I get caught, then we die. Don’t we deserve to know why we’re putting ourselves at such a huge risk for you? What if you use this against me and my loved ones?”

Jihoon had assumed that Captain Kwon would be naive and easy to manipulate. Evidently that was not the case. The young officer was also brave. Jihoon leaned back in his chair, impressed. Soonyoung could handle entering the lion’s den. Jihoon had stumbled upon the right person for the task. 

“Captain Kwon. I’m sure you’re familiar with the Empire’s emblem. The golden rose with thorns. What do you think it means?”

Soonyoung’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“What do you think the emblem with a golden rose and thorns symbolises?” 

“Uh…” Soonyoung looked at the enormous statue of the emblem behind the Lieutenant Colonel’s head. It was beautiful but there was no mistaking the thorns that lay underneath it. Soonyoung had never stopped to think about its meaning. “Um. I suppose it means that you should stop and think before you pluck the rose because the thorns will prick you?” he guessed doubtfully. 

Jihoon nodded. “Interesting.”

“What does it mean?”

“I don’t know either,” Jihoon admitted. He sighed. “Let me put it this way, Captain Kwon. I’ve lost someone close to me. I need to know whether the Empire’s thorns merely failed to protect him, or whether they pricked him themselves.”

Soonyoung hesitated. He could see the pain behind Lieutenant Colonel Lee’s dark eyes. He had never imagined that such a high-ranking officer whom everyone feared could also be a victim of the Empire. 

Then again, perhaps everyone was a victim of the Empire in some way. 

Soonyoung took a deep breath. “I’ve lost people to the Empire too. My family back home struggled because of the new laws and all our land was taken away from us-”

Jihoon cut him off quickly. “I don’t care.”

Soonyoung blinked. “Oh.”

“I have no intention of exchanging childhood stories with you, Captain Kwon. I don’t want to be friends. I want information. Let’s talk about how you’re going to get it for me.”

---------------------------------------------------

A vast majority of the Empire's power resided in the hands of two men. 

The military took pride in claiming that the Empire wasn’t an autocratic state like the destructive military dictatorships of the past. Instead, it had quickly created the concept of a high command. A pair of men who controlled the military, and as a result, the rest of the Empire. 

Major-General Jung, commander of the Internal Peacekeeping Forces. 

And Major-General Yang, commander of the Border Forces.  

Together, these two men commanded the two primary functional divisions of the army. First, the Internal Peacekeeping Forces were tasked with ensuring the common folk obeyed the Empire's laws, while suppressing occasional violent rebel uprisings and keeping peace within the walls of the Empire.

Second, the Border Forces defended the Borders where the constant looming threat from the Invaders needed to be taken care of. The Borders was where the newly designed weapons and the bravest of soldiers were sent. Fighting at the Borders was no joke.  

Every few weeks, fresh bodies were brought back from the Borders in caskets. 

“I don’t understand your obsession with the Border Forces, Jihoon,” the Brigadier-General complained as he swallowed a large glass of wine. It was his anniversary party, and he hated talking about official business during celebrations. He wished Jihoon would relax and leave him alone. “Can’t we discuss this on Monday? It’s so dull to be talking about applications and transfers when one should be in a festive mood!”

Jihoon bowed his head. “I apologize, sir-”

“Have a glass of wine, eh? Here!”

“Yes-thank you, sir. I don’t mean to bother you. It’s just... I’ve heard rumours that the Borders are in need of more officers since the threat from the Invaders is steadily rising. The most recent exchange of hostilities at the Border four months ago left our forces crippled-”

The Brigadier-General's grey beard twitched in sympathy. “Ah, yes. Lieutenant Colonel Joshua Hong was one of the brave victims of that devastating attack. Your half-brother, correct? You’ve mentioned him before. My condolences.”

Jihoon clutched his wine. “Thank you, sir.”

“But you should know better than anyone how dangerous it is!” the Brigadier-General cried. “The Borders are treacherous and few return alive. The death toll increases with each passing month. There’s a reason the Empire limits the number of commanding officers we send there. One efficient attack by the Invaders is enough to wipe out entire battalions, and we can’t afford to lose too many at once.”

“I understand, sir, but-”

“We need brave officers like you here and alive, Jihoon. Internal peace and harmony is crucial for the efficiency of this war. The Internal Peacekeeping Forces are doing important work. Wars cannot be won unless the nation is unified from within.”

Jihoon pressed harder. “I’d rather fight at the Borders, sir. I don’t believe the Internal Peacekeeping Forces need me. Rebel uprisings will stop naturally once we can terminate the threat of the Invaders, and return the Empire to its former prosperity and glory.”

The Brigadier-General’s mouth twisted downward. “Do you believe that’s possible?”

“Isn’t it?”

“I don’t know,” the older man admitted grimly. He finished his entire glass of wine in one gulp and then patted Jihoon on the back in a friendly manner. His eyes were slightly unfocused due to the alcohol. “You have a lot of potential, Lieutenant Colonel. You’re a smart young man and I don’t want you to die yet. I’ll submit your application to go to the Borders, but you know the final authority on these matters is Major General Yang. All I can do is send your application onward.”

Jihoon nodded gratefully. At least it was a step in the right direction. 

“Thank you, sir.”

“Now, are you done hounding me at my wedding anniversary party? Go get another drink, and find a pretty young lady to dance with! I can introduce you to a few if you’d like…”

Jihoon politely declined. He found a quiet corner to enjoy his glass of wine while the Brigadier-General left to greet his more important guests. The private anniversary party was smaller and humbler than some of the official military galas, but there were still a significant number of high-ranking officers and research officials present. Jihoon wished he was sociable enough to interact with them the way Joshua used to. But that had never been his style. He didn’t have many friends. 

Jihoon wondered whether he should stay at the party until Vesta arrived, or leave since he had sufficiently interacted with the host. Jihoon didn’t have anything to say to Vesta. To be frank, he didn’t even enjoy her company. But there was a small and inexplicable comfort in talking to someone who missed Joshua just as much as he did, even if she had her own abrasive ways of handling her grief. 

Perhaps it was too risky to keep meeting her. 

Jihoon squeezed past the throng of guests and wondered how many more infernal parties and events like this he would have to attend before he found out the truth behind Joshua’s death. What dark secret was concealed in the midst of these studded military coats and sparkling wine glasses? What was so consequential that Lieutenant Colonel Joshua Hong had requested a transfer to the most dangerous, deadly division of the military in order to investigate it? 

Jihoon had no idea how to find these answers. 

He didn't even know where to look anymore. 

Was this the end? 

Would he never find out what had taken Joshua from him? Even if Jihoon’s application to transfer to the Border Forces was miraculously accepted, what would he do once he went there? He didn’t know what Joshua had been looking for, and it seemed that the man had confided his secrets in no one. 

Yet, it seemed so surreal. 

What had Joshua been trying to investigate by himself? Was it even possible that he had single-handedly unearthed some enormous conspiracy? With no outside help? Joshua had been secretive on occasion, yes, but Jihoon still couldn’t believe it. Perhaps Joshua had not told his lover because she had enough worries of her own. And perhaps he had even kept it a secret from his little brother to avoid putting him at risk. But surely he had confided in someone? 

Someone? 

Out of the corner of his eye, Jihoon saw the flash of a white coat. 

It was him again; the same young scientist from the weapons unveiling party. His dark eyes had been watching Jihoon but he averted them the moment he realized he had been caught. Jihoon’s stomach clenched. 

He had seen this scientist before. He had seen him multiple times, as a matter of fact, at almost every official celebration that took place in Military Base 1. 

Why was this scientist always lingering around him? 

The man turned to leave the room and Jihoon made an impulsive decision to follow him. He exited the Brigadier-General’s front hall and followed the man out of the penthouse apartment, and down multiple flights of stairs. The man kept glancing back at Jihoon but he wasn’t trying to get away. 

In fact, he seemed to be leading Jihoon somewhere. 

Jihoon followed the scientist onto the deserted street. He kept walking until he reached a small, cramped alleyway between two apartment buildings. Jihoon expected him to stop, but he kept going, kept walking and Jihoon began to doubt himself. 

What was he doing? Why was he following a strange scientist into places that he didn’t know? There was a service pistol tucked into Jihoon's belt but he doubted that would be of much use if this man was leading him into some kind of a trap. 

Finally, the man stopped and turned to face him. 

“Lieutenant Colonel Lee Jihoon,” the scientist greeted calmly. His hands were clenched by his sides, and Jihoon could see his fists trembling. 

“Who are you?” Jihoon demanded. 

“My name is Junhui,” the man explained softly. “I used to be a researcher at Research Division 1. But that’s not important to you. The truth is…. I knew Lieutenant Colonel Joshua Hong. I was the last person to see him alive before he left for the Border.”

Jihoon felt numb. 

—------------------------------------------

There was very little in the world that surprised Vesta. 

It was late when she arrived at the Brigadier-General’s party, and even later by the time the infuriating old man would allow her to leave. She spent the entire evening smiling until her cheeks hurt and enduring the hungry gazes and wandering hands of the Brigadier-General’s friends. 

When she returned to her car and saw Lee Jihoon sitting in the passenger seat, she did not blink an eye. 

“I didn’t see you at the party,” she drawled, while lighting her cigarette. Jihoon looked pale. He had always been a handsome young man, but the haunted look Jihoon gave Vesta sent a chill down her spine for completely different reasons. 

"Joshua was intercepting confidential documents from Major General Jung's personal office," Jihoon mumbled quietly. 

Vesta blinked. It took her a few moments to process exactly what Jihoon was saying. Joshua? Stealing documents from the Major General? But Joshua had always seemed to like the Major General Jung. He had always been eager to gain the commander's admiration and even shared drinks with the older man multiple times after duty. Joshua had always been the one in charge of hauling the Major General's enormous drunken ass back home after parties…

Oh. 

Oh.

So it had all been an act. 

Vesta had occasionally wondered why Joshua was so eager to please the Major General, and why he hung around his superior officer despite the older man having the personality of a stinky wet rag… 

Maybe she'd assumed that he did it in order to see her. 

"What-what documents?" she asked hesitantly. "Did you find any of them? Where were they?"

Jihoon shook his head. "No. Someone told me."

"Someone?"

"This… this man came up to me. Junhui. A research scientist. He said he knew Joshua and that he was the last person to see him alive before he left for the Border," Jihoon explained. 

"I've never heard of this name before. Junhui?" she demanded. 

Jihoon bit his lip. "Yeah."

"Do you know who he is?"

"I'd never heard his name before today either," Jihoon admitted. His hands were clasped tightly in his lap. "But I had my suspicions, since he's been following me and trying to approach me for a while. He says that Joshua used to have drinks with the Major General and intercept his communications while the man was lying drunk in his office. He says… he says that Joshua made copies and hid some of the communications."

Vesta shook her head. "Hold on. Just stop for a moment. Who is this Junhui and how does he know so much about what Joshua was doing? Has Joshua ever mentioned him to you?"

Jihoon swallowed. "No."

"Joshua told me about you. And you said that he often talked about me. That's how you and I can trust each other. But he never told either of us about this Junhui. How can you trust him? Who the hell is he even?" Vesta demanded. 

"He says Joshua saved his life."

Vesta blinked. "What?"

"When high command shut down Research Division 1 a decade ago because their human experimentation failed, they ordered for the subjects and the researchers to be killed. Junhui says Joshua was the military official on duty and saved Junhui's life by helping him escape and hide. He's been lurking around Military Base 1 in hiding and helping Joshua investigate the Empire ever since."

"Why would Joshua do that?"

Jihoon shrugged. "Because he's a good person?'

"It doesn't sound like something that can be explained away that simply. Are you telling me that this man is a fugitive?" Vesta demanded. Her eyes had gone wide in disbelief. "Are you telling me that the entire time we knew Joshua, he was harbouring a fugitive of the Empire? This man can't be sane. Why would Joshua risk everything to help some researcher hide?"

Jihoon's lower lip trembled. "But he knows so much about him."

"Like what?"

"Like everything," Jihoon replied. He took a deep and shaky breath. "Look. I'm confused too. I don't know what Joshua has been up to all these years-"

"Yeah, no shit-"

"But if there's even a hint of truth in what Junhui says, then we might find something. Listen. He says that Joshua used to steal confidential documents from Major General Jung's office. That means Joshua either took those documents or made copies."

"So? You didn't find anything in Joshua's belongings. And you searched his cabin yourself before they cleaned it out."

"Of course. Joshua would never risk getting caught with confidential documents in his possession. There's strict security outside the Major General's office. They check your uniform when you enter and again when you leave the office of any officer in high command. I know, because I went to Major General Jung's office many times to receive medals. They even check the linings of your coat."

"So how did Joshua get the documents out?"

"That's what I've been wondering. What if he didn't? What if he hid them right there in the Major General's office?"

Vesta stared at him. 

"That's…"

"Something Joshua would do, right?"

"Yes," Vesta admitted hesitantly. Joshua had been clever at sneaking around and evading suspicion. Despite his seemingly trustworthy appearance, Joshua had been extremely cunning. The number of times he had managed to sneak Vesta into his personal quarters at the dead of night was evidence of his clever thinking. He would constantly come up with new and innovative ways to get her in without anybody noticing. 

"We need to find those documents."

"How?"

"How else?" Jihoon asked grimly. There was no choice. "Through the only person on our side who has access to Major General Jung's office. Captain Kwon Soonyoung."

Vesta raised an eyebrow. "The Major-General's new personal security? I've seen him; I wondered if you planted him there. Is he loyal to you?"

Jihoon hesitated. "Not exactly. But he's not loyal to the Empire either. He's an undercover rebel."

Vesta leaned back and laughed. "Well, fuck. You do seem to find these strange people, Jihoon. Do you trust this Captain?"

"I have to. Will you help him?"

Vesta reached into her purse for some cigarettes and fumbled with the lighter before taking a deep breath and nodding. 

"You're going to get me killed someday, Lee Jihoon."

-------------------------------------------------

Lieutenant Colonel Lee Jihoon paced the long corridor anxiously. 

The Brigadier-General had sent for Jihoon to report to his cabin at once. Considering that the old man preferred to discuss even critically important military matters over alcohol and music, being summoned to the Brigadier-General's office in the middle of the day was highly unusual. 

Jihoon wished he could be sure that it was good news. 

The door to the office opened. 

"Jihoon! Come in!"

Jihoon entered and promptly saluted the Brigadier-General. The senior officer had a much more luxurious and spacious cabin than Jihoon, but even the Brigadier-General could not be rid of the permanent fixture that was the Empire's conspicuous golden rose statue. 

It glimmered brightly behind the Brigadier-General's wrinkled face. 

"Sir, you called for me."

"I have some news for you, Lieutenant Colonel. It's about your transfer application to the Border Forces," the Brigadier-General began. He pulled out a pair of spindly glasses and squinted at the document on his desk. 

Jihoon's heart leapt. 

"Yes, sir?"

"It's been denied."

The disappointment on Jihoon's face was unconcealable. The Brigadier-General sighed and lowered his glasses with a frown. 

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant Colonel. You should have been a prime candidate. Perhaps that incident with the stolen firearms influenced Major General Yang's decision. You can always re-apply in six months."

A sense of despair was beginning to take over Jihoon, and he didn’t know how to stop it from consuming him. 

Was this it? Was this the end of the road?

He had been hoping that he would receive some information from Captain Kwon or Vesta, but they had nothing to report from their espionage of Major General Jung except news about the increasing rebel activity near the coasts. It appeared that either Major-General Jung had nothing to hide, or he was simply too good at hiding it. 

And now the Border Forces were shut to him for another six months. 

The Brigadier-General seemed sympathetic. 

"Never mind the Border Forces, Jihoon. I have a much more important task that I need you to do for me. If you can pull it off, it will certainly erase any black mark on your record from that unfortunate firearms robbery."

Jihoon nodded, although he had lost interest. 

"Of course, Brigadier-General."

"What do you know about the rebel uprisings near the coast?"

Jihoon knew plenty; but none of it was from official sources so he had to feign innocence. The coastal regions were the only fertile agricultural lands in the Empire. Combined with the abundance of seafood, they were a primary geographical source of food for the rest of the Empire. If the worst of the rebel uprisings infiltrated the coast, the Empire could be faced with a devastating famine that would impact even Military Base 1. 

"Not much, sir."

"The coastal folk have been uncooperative for a while, but the situation is worsening. These are not soldiers; they're farmers and fishermen and they can be controlled. But we have reason to believe they might join forces with some of the more dangerous rebels."

Jihoon nodded. "I suppose the rebels could use the farmers and fishermen as an opportunity to incite some violence."

"I need you to go on a peacekeeping mission to the coastal region."

Jihoon visibly flinched. The last thing he wanted to do was go thousands of miles away from the heart of the military that his half-brother had died investigating, to shush some poor farmers. 

"Brigadier-General, I am sure you don't need someone like me to control some farmers and fishermen. I'd really like to re-apply to the Border Forces-"

"You need to wait six months to reapply."

"But surely-"

The Brigadier-General had already turned away from him. 

"You leave tomorrow."

----------------------------------------

[random-thought-depository]

Idea I got tangential to a discussion on a socialist humanity Mass Effect AU premise on SV, copying and pasting from my relevant posts there:

Point: if you get rid of aging and most disease, the main thing that kills people will be accidents, suicides, and murders, and there's probably a lot that can be done to make accidental death less likely that we don't bother with because old age usually kills us long before an accident can.

One of I'm sure many examples: we have subway stations with rails in open roughly person-height depressions that people can just fall into, our society considers this risk acceptable, but I expect in a society of unaging people there'd be some kind of partition with doors separating the passenger platform and the track (much like our elevators usually have a door on the elevator compartment itself and doors on the access points of the elevator shaft).

Similarly, I expect a society of unaging people would become much more scrupulous than us about removing trip hazards, making vehicles as safe as possible, etc.. I expect they'd also automate dangerous jobs like construction pretty much as much as possible, much more than we do.

Really, if you're going to go with a dystopian angle for the Asari, I think the one I'd go with is having them rely heavily on aliens for dangerous jobs, on the logic that if an Asari construction worker falls off a scaffold and splats like a bug on a windshield on the ground 500 meters below, they've lost centuries or millennia of life and a shot at living to see the stars burn out, but if it happens to a human, oh well, the congenital terminal degenerative disease they were born with (aging/senescence) will probably kill them within 50 years anyway, so they lose much less. A wealthy society with an unaging citizen class surrounded by societies of people who age might look a bit like those Gulf petro-states where much of the actual work-force is a subaltern class of foreign migrant laborers.

----------

Aside following a tangent from the last paragraph of my previous post: "they're unaging and see their own lives as much more valuable than the lives of aliens with limited lifespans because they lose so much more if they die" would make a much more interesting rationale for Batarians being chauvinistic slavers than "they're just kind of generic evil nationalists."

---------

Edit: I think a species like that would probably have a vibe less like canon Batarians and more like stereotypical fantasy Elves at their worst or Skeksis. E.g. they'd be reclusive and hikikomori-ish cause their whole lives are structured around reducing risk to themselves, meeting one face to face would be a special event because they rely heavily on mercenaries and janissaries and robots to do their fighting for them and on Mouth of Sauron type minions and remote communication for diplomacy. And they might contemptuously refer to shorter-lived races as "mortals" like Dracula or some asshole fantasy Elf would.

I really like this as an idea for an "evil empire" faction in a space opera setting! Much more original villain motivation than the millionth variation on generic tyranny or religion of evil or whatever! And it's a rationale for slavery and imperialism that stands up at least a bit better to the "raw materials would probably be super-abundant for a society with interstellar travel" and "a society with interstellar travel would probably have pretty good automation" objections.

More ideas for a faction like this:

So, I'm thinking give them something a little like the canon Batarian kind of pathetic Space North Korea vibe, but different, and also adjust it for a setting that's less heavy on the human-wank, so make them a faction that could credibly get trashed in a conflict that's more like the setting's equivalent of the 1895-96 Italian-Ethiopian War.

So I'm thinking lean heavily on the Skeksis parallel here. As part of that, give them a vibe a little like "what if Panem from The Hunger Games invented warp drive and met advanced aliens?"

These aliens are naturally long-lived and slow-breeding, and their risk-aversion compounds this (reproduction may be risky to them like it is to female humans, and even if it isn't reproduction is risky in that it introduces a new and potentially unpredictable player to the social landscape), so their population is very small. Their territory basically consists of their homeworld plus maybe some asteroid mines and other space infrastructure in their home solar system. Almost all of their population is on their homeworld; they may even have a thing like Known Space Puppeteers where members of their species who take the risk of leaving their homeworld are literally considered insane (but usefully so) by most of the species. Even their homeworld has a very small population, maybe a few hundred million tops, plausibly only tens of millions, and most of those are the "mortal" slaves who make up most of the actual population. It's basically ocean and wasteland, a bunch of giant sprawling estates, a single capital city, and a minimalistic and heavily automated infrastructure to support that.

Obviously, these people have no reason to fight aliens for resources or living room. Rather, what they're short of is labor. To this end, they sometimes send out ships to capture slaves though raiding and piracy. Maybe they also buy slaves from some of the shittier empires they have contacts with too.

Possibly there's some shorter-lived indigenous sapient species on their planet that they co-evolved with or enslaved early in the history of their civilization, and their slave-raiding is just their attempt at folding aliens into that system, mostly an attempt at acquiring captives with valuable knowledge and skills (in which case captives will probably get less chains and whips slavery and more subtler forms of coercion). Or maybe their present social system is a reaction to contact with "mortal" sapient species and the "mortal" slaves on their planet are all captives or the descendants of captives (probably mostly the latter, though I think they'd carefully control reproduction among their slaves and keep their slave population either stable or growing only very slowly - they'd be scared of the possibility of their much faster-breeding slaves becoming too numerous to easily control, and being unaging they'd have very long planning horizons).

The slave-masters have a very small population and are a highly privileged class. Each one lives like a feudal lord, tended and pampered and protected by robots and slaves. They rarely do any physical labor: that's much too dangerous! They live in a floating world of luxury and status games; their society has kind of a Heian court vibe. They often scheme and intrigue against each other, flex and dunk on each other, and seek to sideline and disempower each other, but these struggles are mostly relatively non-violent because they have a sense that the life of one of their own is precious and a solidarity based on that which transcends whether they like each other as people. This obviously fits with their ideology, but it's also instinctive, reflecting an evolutionary history as a long-lived slow-breeding species for whom every viable offspring was precious; quite likely they embraced the ideology because it resonates with their instincts. The idea of killing or even injuring one of their own is viscerally horrifying and repellent to them and they would resort to such measures only in the most extreme circumstances; they've probably executed, like, a single digit number of their own kind in the last few millennia, and each one of those is remembered as an infamous traitor whose depraved betrayals of their own kind are overshadowed only by the mind-searing horror of the punishment meted out to them.

I think one of them would make a good video game antagonist cause they'd lend themselves well to meeting one of them being a boss fight. Like I said, for an outsider meeting one face-to-face would be a rare special event because they'd be very reluctant to expose themselves to the risk of close proximity to an outsider, but 1) if they did, it'd be with the best protection their society could arrange, 2) very long lifespans and slow breeding is only likely to be selected for if there's little risk of dying by accident or predation, so it would be most likely to happen in a species where mature individuals were pretty hard to kill. So an individual of this species would likely be very reclusive and hikikomori-like but very formidable if they actually showed up for a fight. In a Mass Effect context, think maybe a giant being comparable in dimensions to an elephant or T-Rex which also is a very powerful biotic, is packing the best weapons and protected by the best protective suit its society can produce with no expense spared, controls a personal squad of combat robots and elite janissaries (themselves dangerous opponents!), and has thousands of years of experience. If you manage to kill it the others of its kind will spend millennia mourning it and hating you for the unimaginable crime of destroying a mind that was already vast and ancient when the capstone was laid on the Great Pyramid at Giza.

One thing I like about this idea is, like... Somebody said in that discussion that the point of species like Batarians, Dilgar, etc. is to basically be a super-evil version of Spain for a war that is to humans what the Spanish-American War was to the USA, and I think with this idea it'd be obvious that it's really more like the First Italian-Ethiopian War or the time Idi Amin got his ass kicked by Tanzania. Like I said, one of these unaging slaver aliens would be a very formidable opponent at the small scale, but if you zoom out to what sort of threat they'd be on the galactic scale it'd be kind of obvious that humans bragging about beating up on them just shows how pathetic Earth still is compared to the setting's great powers; their tiny population makes the idea that they could be any kind of existential threat to the real big players a joke, they'd be basically the setting's equivalent of, like, if Somali pirates were somehow controlled by North Korea, and really, the idea that they'd be any kind of threat to Earth is kind of seriously embarrassing for anyone pushing a "HUMANS STRONK" line, they probably have less people than Bangladesh and that's doing the equivalent of counting the helots with the Spartans.

[marvelcriminalhoe]

The Great War

Chapter One: Pirates

Steve Rogers x Reader Zombie Apocalypse AU

My knuckles were bruised like violets • Sucker punching walls, cursed you as I sleep-talked • Spineless in my tomb of silence • Tore your banners down, took the battle underground

TGW Masterlist

AN: Slow updates for this but here is chapter one. I have been writing A LOT over on wattpad (Have three stories going. Yeesh.) right now there’s a lot of personal stuff going on so all my stories are slow updates. This has been in my drafts for awhile though so thought I would finally get it posted.

Word Count: 2,316

Story Warnings: Zombies. Blood. Gore. What do you expect in a dystopian world. Strong language. Eventual smut. Could contain heavy content or topics, read at your own caution.

Summary: Some called it the end of time, others the zombie apocalypse, but most people called it The Great War— the living vs the dead. At first, that’s how it was split, only two sides fighting. But as the years drew on, the lines began to blur and the world became even more dangerous. When a new group makes itself known in your area, it’s your job to decide if they can be trusted or not. Especially when tragedy seems to strike and a fight against more than just the walkers is on the horizon.

The sound of dripping water echos through the destroyed pharmacy. It’s the only sound outside the quiet shuffle through the practically barren shelves of your search team. This is the only pharmacy within fifteen miles of your camp, and you know this is the last run you’ll be able to make here, having to go farther out the next time. The thought sets you on edge. The farther the runs the riskier they are. But you do what you have to do.

Your camp has rules, especially on runs, only take what you need, don’t horde, and don’t make noise unless absolutely necessary, the walkers are attracted to the noise. You know most people, especially now, take everything and anything they can. But your camp still believes in the laws of humanity. The laws set in place during the beginning of the pandemic. 

1. Water and shelter should be your main priority. 

2. Don’t horde supplies, everyone needs something. 

3. Don’t fight them unless absolutely necessary. 

And the last one, maybe the most important, 4. Do what you need to survive.

The world changed a lot in the beginning. Food, water, and medicine flying off the the shelves faster than demand warranted. This led to the rise of outbreaks as more and more people went looking for supplies, it also led to the start of fights against each other. As time went on, the pandemic turning into an apocalyptic situation, the Great War started and it only got more out of control. Places that were meant to be safe zones got ransacked by pirates, men that wanted to horde and control everything. More and more places became unlivable, making more and more people victims to the walkers. 

Splitting up into smaller groups seemed to be the best option, not trusting outsiders. Your camp was more likely to survive that way. But small numbers could lead to dangerous situations if a walker pack found you. Advantage in numbers always meant more in the end.

Your camp is fairly decent in size. Stationed at an old school, it has plenty of room, buildings, and space. A nice twelve foot fence sits around it, and multiple wooden towers were built for look outs. You have great room for a garden during the spring and summer months. Even growing a few veggies during the fall to stalk up for winter. The school had some Ag barns available too, giving you place for a few cows and goats. You have a couple horses to help around camp too. It’s a nice camp, probably one of the nicest, not that you have a lot to compare it to though.

Your family was one of the first with the camp, helping build it to what it is now only a year into the war. Though just a year later, you were overrun by pirates and almost lost the whole thing. They had disguised themselves as refugees claiming to need safety, to want a home. They used the woman and children within their group to their advantage, but just as you all had let your guard down, letting them into your camp, trusting them, treating them as friends and comrades, they turned on you. 

You lost a lot of good people that night, your father included. He was the only family you had, surviving for that long, only to die at the hands of greedy men. It sickened you. Most of the people left were in the same boat as you, losing family, friends. Left broken by the devastation of not only what life is now, but the grief of never getting it back. When you were able to banned together again, start rebuilding, most turned too you for direction, which lead to you taking on more and more responsibility as time went on. You were able to build up the school again, and now, two years after the initial mutiny you suffered, the basecamp is better than before.

Peter, the other lookout partner in front of the pharmacy, turns to look at you, whispering out and drawing you from your mind, “Do you see that?”

You look out the windows, following his gaze, and see a small movement of a shadow across the way. “Guys let’s hurry it up, we could have company.” You tell the two in the back going through the aisles looking for supplies. 

“Friendlies?” One calls back, making you whisper under your breath as you see more movement, “they’re never friendly.” 

You make sure your gun is loaded before bringing the butt of it up to your shoulder, looking through the scope with your right eye. You can tell immediately that they aren’t walkers, just by how they carry themselves. But there are at least 4 that you can see, all together, which puts you on edge. 

“Alex, hurry it up.” You yell when you see where they’re direction is headed, “We got maybe four minutes before they come in here.”

It takes two more minutes before Alex and Miles finish grabbing the supplies they can find, coming to stand by you and Peter. 

“Is there a back way out of this place?” Miles questions, and you have to sigh, knowing there is, but it’s a longer stretch to get back to the bikes, “Alright, stick close, we don’t need anything to draw attention to our location. I don’t think they know we’re here. Let’s keep it that way.”

You receive three nods from the teenage boys. They might still be young, but they’re the best when it comes to runs, fast and efficient. All of them alone like you after the betrayal. 

At first, when they sort of stuck to you like small ducklings, you found them extremely annoying. Especially when they would beg day after day to get to go on runs and be part of the scout teams. Some days you still find them annoying, but they’ve turned into little brothers to you, and they’ve proven themselves ten fold in their duties. 

The three of you sneak out the back way through the broken door, trying not to step on all the glass and debris around. Going this way, your forced to walk two extra blocks to make it back to the bikes, but when you get into view of them, your happy you had to go this way, as there’s extra coverage than the front offered. 

You put your hand up, stopping the boys behind you as you spot the two men at your bikes. Their weapons are by their sides, hanging off their shoulders as the look the bikes over. You put your finger to your lips before gesturing with your hands how you want the boys to approach, lifting up your gun as they do the same. You flip the safety off. 

“On your knees.” You make your presence known with a gun to the blonde mans back. He puts his hands up, as the other man reaches for his gun, being stopped by Peter, “Don’t even think about it.”

“We don’t want any trouble.” The blond man says as he slowly turns around to face you, you take a step back in case he makes a move for your gun. He’s a lot bigger than you, probably stronger. He stands at at-least 6’5, arms and legs fully muscled. His broad shoulders are strained as he understands him and his buddy are out numbered when Alex and Miles make their appearance. He’s more of a dirty blonde now that you can see him closer, face full of a beard. He has small scars on his face, as most people do now a days from such harsh living, and his eyes are blue, dark like the night sky. 

“So you’ll have no problem getting on your knees then.” Your shrug nonchalantly, face stoic as you keep your gun trained on him, target locked right where his heart should be. You aren't taking any chances, you don't know these strangers. You don’t trust them. 

“Okay.” He gestures with one hand for his buddy to follow his lead, getting on his knees. His friend follows him down, but with a dirty glare on his face. 

“You bandits?” The black haired man spits out, and you roll your eyes at his accusation, considering they were the ones looking at your bikes, “No, just people that don't like strangers touching their bikes.” You gesture with your chin for Alex and Miles to get on one of the bikes, waiting until Peter gets on the other one before climbing on behind him, gun still pointed just in case. 

“We didn’t know they were anyones.” The blonde man reasons as he starts to put his hands down. He watches the four of you curiously and you don’t like that he's studying you. “We wouldn't have come near them if we knew they were someones.” “Right.” Miles scoffs, and you send him a look. Don’t antagonize the very big men, Miles. The teenager just starts up the bike, Peter doing the same. you don’t lower your gun until Peter starts to drive away, trowing it over your shoulders as your arms move wrap around his waist. 

Looking back over your shoulder, you make out that the two men are no longer alone, four new bodies beside theirs, all watching the bikes drive away. You recognize one of them, the short blonde girl, and you realize she was one of the people you saw in the scope back at the pharmacy. 

You face forward again, an uneasy feeling in your stomach that you were never really outnumbering the men. Your stomach churns more at the thought that this might not be the last time you see them. 

“How’d you do?” Jean, one of the nurses at the compound, ask as you and the boys place the medical supplies on the table in the lab room. Alex starts to fill her in on what items you were able to acquire as you instruct Peter and Miles to take the food bags to the cafeteria for distribution. 

You don’t usually make it a habit to do consecutive runs together— food, pharmacy, and base supplies— but you knew this could very well be the last run in that area and wanted to take advantage of it.

“Any problems?” Logan questions you as you put the gun over your shoulder on the table beside him. Logan is fairly older than you, having been in his forties when the outbreak started. He lost his wife and daughter in the beginning before making his way north, running into you and your dad. You traveled to the school together, making it what it is now. He was there for you when your dad passed. You don’t trust anyone as much as you trust Logan.

Logan was in the army before the world ended, having knowledge of tactics and weaponry and all the scars to prove it. His wisdom is beneficial and he's usually the one to train the recruits and over see scouting duty stations and scheduling. 

“Yeah.” You shrug, but he can see your jaw clenched, rising a brow and waiting for you to explain whatever it is that’s plaguing your mind, “We had a small run in with some others but nothing serious.” “But you’re worried.” He summarizes, being able to read you like a book after all these years, “You think they’re pirates?” 

“Dont know.” You shake your head, running a hand over your forehead, “But I don’t think we’ve seen the last of them.” “I don’t know of another camp this far North.” 

And you sigh, because you haven't either, “Thats what I’m afraid off. They're either new, which is entirely plausible, or they’re travelers.” 

“Either one could be a problem.” Logan nods, his mindset the same as yours. 

Whoever they are, you hope they stay far away. 

“You boys alright?” Nat questions Steve and Bucky as her, Yelena, Sam, and Clint make their way over to the two men. 

Bucky scoffs, “You could have come out, what if they had shot us?”

“If they knew they were outnumbered it could have spooked them.” Nat rolls her eyes at the man, “We don’t want unnecessary fights, remember?” 

Steve nods to the girl, “You did the right thing.” “Who do you think they were?” Yelena questions as she watches the bikes disappear. 

“Pirates.” Bucky spits out, venom lacing his voice, but Steve shakes his head, hands on his hips as he watches the now empty street where the bikes once were, “Nah, I don’t think so.”

“Yeah, they were too clean to be pirates. Young too.” Sam agrees. 

Bucky frowns, “The girl was older though, at least in her 20s.”

“Think they have a camp here? Or it’s just them?” Nat asks. 

“Did you see their bags? They were gathering supplies. This was a run for them. They’re probably part of a camp.”

“I didn’t know there was a safe zone this far north?” Yelena’s eyebrows furrow as she tries to think, “I thought the closest one was like 200 klicks from here?” 

“Maybe it’s not a safe zone.” Nat remarks, “Just a small camp.”

Clint nods, before tilting his head, “Maybe. But the stores were basically wiped clean, we got a few things but not much. Wonder how they did.”

“They didn't take everything? They had to have been in there before you guys.” Bucky observes. 

Clint shrugs, “If they were, they didn’t take all that was left.” 

Steve turns over to his best friend, giving him a pointed look, “Doesn’t seem like pirate behavior to me.” 

Sam sighs, “Whoever they were, they’re gone now. And we should get going too. It’ll be dark soon, we need to get back to the others.” 

Steve nods as the six of them start making it back to they’re set up for the night, his mind set on the woman with the gun pointed at him, wondering who she is, and how she's managed to survive this long with three teenagers. 

Maybe they're wrong and there is a safe haven near by. Maybe they don’t have to try and travel another 130 miles before reaching a proper shelter. 

Its a dream, Steve knows that. The likelihood of that being true is slim. But the longer they're traveling, the harder its becoming, and the more restless they all become, especially the kids. He just wants his people, his family, to be safe. 

As safe as they can be that is. 

[flannelepicurean]

Fic Excerpt: Holiday Rush

Okay. So. Not that long ago, I started finally doing a Coffee Shop AU in the DBZ space, and it got completely out of hand (like they do) and became a dystopian-humor meditation on corporate customer service work, with light smut. Also, the latter half of it turned into a Christmas/holiday special, because...it got completely out of hand, and by then, it made PERFECT SENSE for Frieza to put them under an insane holiday sales rush challenge with the abolition of the heinous indentured servitude contracts for Raditz and Vegeta as the year-end prize.

I have NOT finished the entire piece in time for this Christmas, because there is A LOT of it, and I hope to have it completed in time for next year.

But SWEET BABY GOKU IN A GODDAMN MANGER, I really, REALLY need y'all to come with me on the journey of "Goku's 'True Meaning of Christmas' Speech, and the Subsequent 'Spirit Bomb of Social Media' Event" moment. AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!😂😂😂

Here go:

Goku grumbles a fierce, “This isn’t right,” and turns off the blender.

Vegeta’s heart stops. The floor tilts. “Goku,” he pleads, “Goku, no...wait...don’t go! DON’T LEAVE US, GOKU!”

Goku marches out from behind the counter, heedless of Vegeta’s anguished wailing, strides to the center lounge, kicks a stack of magazines from a low, circular table in the Chipper Chat & ChillⒸ Zone, and leaps atop it. Waves to Puar at the DJ station, and raises his hands as a triple volley of air horn sound effects blares throughout the shop. 

In the stuttering hush that descends, Goku calls out, “WOULD YOU PEOPLE LOOK AT YOURSELVES?!”

“Goddammit,” Raditz whimpers into Vegeta’s hair.

“Chums,” Goku pleads, “this isn’t Chipper! This isn’t Cheerful! This isn’t holiday! Don’t you see what’s happening? Can’t you see what you’re doing?” 

A portly gentleman in the crush by the front snaps, “I’m trying to get a fucking coffee!”

Goku flings a double-underline of athletic arms and emphatic palms toward the counter, hits the customer with a heartfelt, “And they’re trying to give it to you! Don’t you understand?” He looks around at the crowd, reminds them, “A lot of you are regulars here! You know these guys! They’re YOUR guys! And you’re their Chums! But you’re not acting very Chums right now, you’re acting like dicks!”

Vegeta slumps forward, rests his forehead in his hands with a massive sigh, and Raditz follows, keening against the top of Vegeta’s head.

Goku explains, “Okay...you may not know this, but these guys are corporate wage slaves—and I mean literally, it is only just barely technically not illegal, but I’m telling you, I’ve seen the paperwork, and it is fucked up. But you know what? They still come in here every day—EVERY DAY—and try to give you a good experience!”

A green-skinned guy swathed in black, with heavy eyeliner and skull-shaped beads stacked up his antennae quips, “What about the pointy one?”

Goku raises an eyebrow. “Vegeta?” Sweeps a puzzled gaze over the crowd. “I mean, he’s always been pretty cool.”

A woman in a festive sweatshirt with blinking lights fires back, “OH, NO HE HAS NOT!”

Vegeta lifts a weary gaze and heaves a deflated “Hey, I’m trying, okay?” over the counter.

Goku points out, “And I’ve seen some really good comments on the customer satisfaction survey cards, so it seems like that’s working out, huh?”

A throaty voice only a little like Bulma’s calls out, “Yo, he didn’t even yell at that dude who just said he was shitty!” from somewhere near her position in the throng.

Heads perk up in the crowd. A ripple of chatter begins anew, with more question marks than exclamation points.

Goku’s fingers flex as though preparing to fly across a whole fleet of blender buttons. His frame begins a subtle bounce on the balls of his feet as he calls out, louder, “And Raditz assistant manages the heck outta this place! If you were in literal corporate bondage, would you spend extra time keepin’ it fun?” He throws a wide shrug at the assembled patrons, inquires, “Who here hasn’t enjoyed at least one wild specialty drink at Chipper Cup?” Aims a finger into the mass of holiday shoppers, rings out, “You! You there! Bro with the phone!” 

Vegeta’s voice clamors, “Yeah, please stop filming this, Phone Bro,” just as Goku continues, with twinkling zeal, “Didn’t you show up like a hundred times for the Cotton-Eye Joe?”

“Yeah,” the man answers, with a wry twist of expression that slews the crisp shape of his goatee, “that thing was gross as fuck, dude.” 

Goku returns a wilding grin. “But it was funny. Right?”

The man pauses, wide-eyed. Then drops his head and slips his phone into the pocket of his down vest with a contrite, “...Yeah.”

“And you started that viral video challenge because of it!” Goku chimes into the space. Demands, “How many new followers did you get from that?” and immediately steams on, “This is what I’m saying, people! The guys at Chipper Cup don’t just serve it up hot, and chill, and smooth, and whipped, and steamy, and—”

Vegeta snaps, “Goku!”

Goku shouts, “They spread cheer!” 

A bouncy co-ed with tinsel worked into her nearly floor-length twists, and a parade of glitter dazzling above her wide, dark eyes squeals, “And that’s the true meaning of Christmas!”

Goku pauses. Considers. Responds, “Well...kinda. But NO!” He whirls toward a new zone of the sales flow floor set, his face a grim citadel. “The true meaning of Christmas is CORPORATE CONSUMERISM. For the people you love!” He pulls his fists against his chest, presses the shoppers with his earnest insistence, “And everybody out here loves those two handsome, hardworking baristas back there... So come on and start corporate consuming so we can save their Christmas!”

The shop erupts in a resonant clamor of cheering. 

Goku raises his arms aloft, commands, “Faithful ChumsⒸ of Chipper CupⒸ! Lend us your social media! Reach out deep...far into your networks! Give us your hashtags! Post your selfies! Take pictures of your beverages! Send them to EVERYONE YOU KNOW! Boost our signal, Chums! Raise our Chipper Cheer Championship ChartⒸ levels! Like to charge! REBLOG TO CAST!” Phone cameras strobe and dazzle like fireworks as he bellows, “FILL THIS COFFEE SHOP WITH HOLIDAY SPIRIT!”

“Oh shit,” Vegeta mutters, a sheen of sweat catching crystal chill from the open door. 

Raditz grips his shoulders briefly, fires a determined, “We can do this, we got this,” and marches to the counter. Gestures for Bulma, instructs, “Stay close for a sec.” Snags Goku by the front of his apron as he jogs back toward the smoothie station, proclaims, “If we pull this off, you son of a bitch, I have no idea what I’m gonna do, but until then, no more wild cards. You gotta do exactly what I say, got it?”

Goku beams back a snappy, “Yes, sir!”

Raditz sweeps an arm over the full team, “That goes for everybody! We’re about to get the holiday rush of the century up in here, ‘all hands on deck’ doesn’t even begin to cover it! But we’ve all put in too much work, and we’ve come too far, and we’re this close, we’re this close, and we’re not gonna give up! And let’s be real—that was a great speech, Goku, but it’s gonna get ugly in here, and we gotta keep ahead of it.” He shakes his head, lays down a grave, “There’s no backup coming. There’s no clocking out early. We’re not gettin’ out on time, we’re not gettin’ overtime, or holiday pay, or any of that. We’re down to the wire.” He decrees, “This is it. But we’re a team. We can do this.” 

Vegeta’s features settle from apprehensive tension to a kind of thoughtful admiration. “You...you really are a hell of an assistant manager, Raditz,” he affirms.

Raditz looks over the gathering throng with grim determination. Squares his shoulders and rumbles, “Not tonight.” He vaults over the counter and stands tall in front of the milling crowd. Declares, “Tonight...I’m gonna manage!”

[leatafandom]

WIP MEME

cannibal sam?! say more.

strange comfort? what's happening here and who

once and future soulmates? is this a merthur :)))

Hi love. Thank you for the ask! Since I actually have some pretty decent cuts from these I thought I’d put all the snippings under the cut. 

I adore Cannibal Sam, I always love the chance to talk about any of these. It's the name I have for my Dark Chocolate Cherry Series that stars a dark version of Sam and Loki beginning with them meeting in Sam's college days and spanning the course of their lives together, which end up being very long. It also pushes back anything that would have happened canonically because of what Sam decides to do with his life at college to protect himself, to still hunt monsters, and because it's fun. He's not really a cannibal. I mean he does eat people but he's not the same species as any of them, and by the time he eats a human monster again Sam is no longer human. After a very long conversation with my friends on what makes a cannibal and then if not a cannibal what would this creature be, it just kinda stuck in my head anyway. For the record, we landed on monster eater, but I degress. This one will be part three chronologically in the series, sometime after Hunger Games, and focused on how exactly these two crazy murderous men became an excluding killing duo.

Strange Comfort is a WIP I originally made for spn kink bingo but it ended up being super angsty and sad when I actually went to write it. It's set in the Cage and is focused on Sam and Michael. It's really different for me, so it's been taking a while to flush out. 

Of course, it is! It's the last Merthur I have open that I still feel drawn to. I unexpectedly started working on this again this month and doodling a bit about it.  It's a Soul mark AU, one where Arthur still dies in Camelot and Merlin still lives and lives...and lives. It is very angsty in the beginning. It is set mainly on a space station that Merlin helped build with magic-infused tech and helped the original founding colony of it and then just stayed. Arthur does finally come back to Merlin only to find himself in this far-ahead future in a dystopian world far away from Earth and a changed Merlin. One day it will be filled with ups and downs and multiple chapters, but it's just been very slow.

 A snipping from Cannibal Sam, since it's fitting for today, I adore Kali and the odd relationship she, Sam, and Loki have in this series and honestly, it amuses me.

It had been a few weeks since he'd seen Loki. Sam didn't give it much thought, the pagan may have bought a property nearby Sam's campus but he didn't stay. The deity came and went as he pleased and the brunette didn't mind. Sam had his own life and studies to keep up with it his world did not center around the tempting deity. However when Sam walked into his apartment to find Kali hovering over his textbooks his soul couldn't help but take note of how long the blonde’s absence had been.

He paused for only a moment to stare at the intruding goddess before he slid the door closed and locked it behind him. Obsidian eyes swirled with crimson magic as he reviewed his wardings only to find them burnt out. He sighed at the work he would have to do to replace them now.

"You could have called," Sam frowned, dropping his backpack on a stool near his kitchen counter as he walked steadily towards the goddess. "Our mutual plaything is not here, I could have told you that without you torching my spell work."

A musical laugh fell from ruby-painted lips, her smile wide. She turned from his desk, black hair flowing over her shoulders as her red embroidered sari turned with her. "As if I have your number," she said, facing him from the center of his living room. She waved a hand looking around them. "I was wondering if you had seen our poor powerful plaything lately, I was hoping he was here."

Sam frowned at her words, crossing his arms over his chest as he stopped on the other side of his used sofa, keeping it between them. "He doesn't stick around, you know that. Are you worried, old flame?" He teased in return, his grin wide even as his soul recounted the last few weeks, obsidian draining from his eyes as he looked over her with critical eyes as she took in his home.

"I never worry about Loki, but I thought his pet might." Kali frowned, her eyes narrowing, focused on the tall monster eater just steps away from her. "When did you see him last, Samuel?"

Sam's posture loosened, blinking when he suddenly remembered the last time the blonde had stopped in. "We spent my Thanksgiving break hunting a group of Djinn," he mumbled under his breath. He watched her for a moment before turning from her and going to his kitchen. He turned his back to her uncaring, turning on a kettle and looking into his fridge. "Food?"

Kali's chestnut eyes flicked to the monster eater, her nail tugging on her painted lip with a nod. "Nothing vile, Sam," she insisted. "I know what you eat."

The monster eater laughed, as the goddess came closer tapping her nails along the Formica countertop. "You're in luck. A made stew this week." He shrugged when she raised a brow, knowing that the monster eater, who was gaining more and more recognition around the world of monsters, didn't often prey on human monsters. "There was a man stalking and attacking students around campus, I made better use of him."

Kali smiled, pleased with the shared offering that was no doubt filled with preserved power, leaning her elbows on the counter after sliding into one of two stools closer to the man. She watched the churning soul as he moved to warm up the meal he had planned.

"When is Thanksgiving? You act as if I have ever had an interest in learning Western holidays," she grumbled, her arms crossing over her chest and raising her chin.

Sam glanced at her at the hum of irritation in her tone, frowning at offending one of the few pagans not on his menu. "It was months ago," he conceded, shifting his feet. "Three weeks after Diwali."

His eyes looked over the pot as he stirred the savory meal making sure there was enough for both of them.

"I have not seen him for longer, not uncommon since he has you.” Kali seemed to be considering the same, her jaw ticking to the side as a sharp nail tapped on his countertop as if she was bored.

He paused at that he had assumed the little pagan had run back to Kali or one of the pagans he often spent his time with. The deity that had let herself in sounded like she had no idea where Loki had been, and that it was odd. He turned the click of the kettle pulling him from his thoughts. He grabbed the tea box Loki had filled, his gaze roving to the goddess as he placed the box and a mug in front of her with a glare.

"Why would you think I should be worried?"

A short snip from Strange Comforts:  

"It's okay," Sam managed after a moment, curling up on his side enjoying the soft caress of linens. "I broke everything." 

Michael frowned at the soft muffled words, words that lacked the arrogance and defiance that had always reminded him of Lucifer. There was a long pause as Sam turned onto his side, holding tighter to the spare pillow that the archangel had provided and pulling it to his chest. 

"You could not possibly break anything," he said, his brows pinching as he sat up more. 

"I messed up your plan."

Sam was too tired to state any of the other reasons why Michael was wrong. Instead, he simply repeated the one that he'd heard throughout countless years with Lucifer's wrath. 

The archangel looked over the human-shaped lump on the bed before looking down. "It was our Father's plan, not mine… not his." Michael's eyes seemed to rove the space he had created within the confines of the Cage and Sam's mind. "I never wanted to kill him. Or you." His lips were still pulled into a frown when he looked back at Sam. "But that can't happen now. Lucifer will not win and we can not finish what Father wanted. At least not now." 

"Sorry," the soul managed, closing his eyes at the feeling of Michael's stare and unnerving attention. He would never apologize for stopping it, Michael knew that, but Sam didn't know if he was really sorry for starting it just then, or if he was just sorry for Michael's situation. 

It hadn't taken them long to realize that no one was coming for them. Particularly that no one was coming for Michael. Lucifer had had his shot and failed, Sam had known Gabriel's backdoor had been a one-way ticket, and Adam didn't have anyone to look for him, he was already dead on Earth. The true ruler of Heaven was the only one that should have been worthy of raising, but his siblings had dismissed him like they did any of their fallen brethren. Sam, despite the constant onslaught of rage, hate, and disappointment from Lucifer and Michael's anger and cold disregard, couldn't help sympathizing with the eldest archangel.

A snipping from the first chapter of Once and Future Soulmates:

Merlin had defended this sector enough to have a reputation and the descendants of the humans and the nonhuman that had followed him thousands of years ago still depended on him. Merlin had been hoping that extending an invitation for new alliances would increase their chances of being left alone, however, the meetings weren't off to a promising start. He grumbled at his swirling thoughts. He leaned forward in his curved desk chair, putting down the sleek tablet he had been using to review his spotty notes from today's meetings, which were mostly angry doodles. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes and down through the black scruffy beard, before waving the already dimmed overhead lights off. 

Merlin closed his eyes, focusing his mind on the familiar and comforting sound of the massive stabilizers of the old station. The quiet hum of the station echoed the hum of his magic as it weaved through the systems and thrummed warm and pure through his veins. Merlin lost himself in the sound but soon felt the weariness sink too deeply into his bones. His body may be ever-youthful, after a spell he cast centuries ago, but it longed for his bed. 

Merlin yawned, stretching and turning his chair away from his desk to stand. He was long past ready to head to bed after the slew of disappointing diplomatic talks he’d sat in on today. Merlin released a long-drawn-out breath setting about preparing for bed. Merlin tried to relax as he cleaned his teeth and washed his face, listening to the dull familiar groans and the clangs of the station instead of continuing to recount his last conversation with the station's commerce experts.

Throughout his life, whether it was his time spent on Earth or amongst the stars, Merlin had gotten used to the changing sounds, smells, sights, and even non-humanoid life. The life he had made here, that he had helped build from scrap metal infused with his magic, still felt the same despite being so far from Earth. Merlin still felt at home here. Hosting the welcoming proceedings and aiding in negotiating trade agreements with traveling merchants from a more technologically advanced society still felt familiar to Merlin; even with the merchants being non-carbon-based life forms. Merlin rubbed a tired hand over his eyes and ran his fingers through his shaggy hair feeling his age despite his youthful appearance. 

The ancient warlock yawned again. His hand moved to slowly unwrap the red neckerchief, which was untouched by time as the day Arthur had gifted it to him, from around his wrist and forearm. Merlin's eyes watched as he carefully unbound it. His eyes stuck on the freshly revealed pale skin as they did most nights on his soulmark. Merlin’s eyes stayed fixed on his wrist and arm as he walked into his bedroom from his washroom. The doors automatically opened and closed behind him as Merlin walked with unfocused eyes, fingers teasing the pale marred skin he kept hidden outside of the privacy of his quarters. 

Merlin shook his head, breaking the spell of sorrow, loss, and happy memories, letting his arm drop from beneath his fingers. His lips twisted in a grimace like they did so many nights, banishing the fading memories and ache that filled him. Merlin closed his eyes and settled into his warm welcoming bed, dismissing the barely visible phoenix that had once shone in multicolored glory. He sighed heavily curling his sheets tighter, tonight wasn’t the night to think about Arthur and wallow. 

It had taken Merlin centuries to adjust to the emptiness that was left in the place of knowing his soulmate had died in his arms. Merlin had known that he would be lost without Arthur, without the grounding bond that linked more than just their destinies. After Merlin lost Arthur, the warlock couldn’t stay within the walls of Camelot. Arthur had known, they had both known that in the end, and Guinevere had led in Arthur’s stead far better than Merlin ever could have. Merlin had never really returned to Camelot again; it didn’t feel the same. The only time he had tried venturing past the lower towns, everyone had kept looking at his arm and he couldn't. 

The vibrant colors that had burned and etched into their soulmark from the first moment Merlin had spoken to Arthur had drained with Arthur's death.

Thank you so much for your wonderful ask. <3

[oldtvandcomics]

Oh, they definitely exist, if you know where to look. Which, I get, is always tricky. The notes and reblogs already have a bunch of good recommendations, but here are mine:

The Margin Street Zeroes series by Robin Banks has university-aged characters, who try to somehow manage Life, and also gods. All queer, all neurodivergent. One of the three main characters who is there from the beginning (Ben) has an asexual coming out storyline in book 3, when the group is joined by an out ace character (AK). They end up in a very cute relationship.

Space Cadets by Robin Banks (I know, again), is about a group of young people working on a spaceship, who kind of inherit the ship when their dystopian Government sends it to attack a peaceful colony, and instead they run away. They then have to figure out what to do next. The main character is a trans man with ADHD, who ends up in a nonsexual relationship with one of the boys, who also has ADHD. They are both on the asexual spectrum.

The Dreamhealers series by M.C.A. Hogarth is about two young men from two different alien species, who meet at university and form a telepathic bond. They then have to figure out, what they want to do with their lives, and eventually move to a space station to set up a psychology praxis. The story is very feel-good, but does deal with some heavy themes. It also has got incredible worldbuilding. One of the two protagonists is from a species that is naturally asexual, and their relationship, while very close and dedicated, is explicitly platonic.

The Sulien series by Jo Walton is an Arthurian AU where our Sir Lancelot gets replaced by an asexual woman. The word is never used, but it couldn't be clearer. Very, VERY good series, but not always easy to read, structuraly speaking. Also, serious CN for rape.

Asexual Fairy Tales by Elizabeth Hopkinson. Exactly what it sounds like, it's fairy tales. You are never too old for fairy tales. There are two more books by the same author, but for some reason, it isn't marked as a series.

Chuck Tinge's no-sex stories. Are about people not having sex. Some of the protagonists are actually aspec, some decide not to for some other reason. Chuck Tingle is a master at surreal writing, so these can get WEIRD.

Bonus:

Ein Meer aus Feuer by Evelyne Aschwanden Only exists in German, and the asexual character is a side character, so I don't want to count it too much. But she does the thing where she saves her entire crew from mermaids by not getting enchanted, and the story itself is very low on romance, so that it is more of an adventure story.

Idk but it's kind of sad that adult books/stories with aspec characters aren't really a thing (MCs or at least important side characters). It's always YA stuff and I really don't want to read books written for 12-18 year olds because I'm old and grumpy and can't relate to their experiences, lol.

[innytoes]

"girl help I already have so much headcanons for this au I'm never gonna write" .... show us the dystopian headcanons, Inny

Okay so this dystopia was percolating in my brain for a day or two before I could get it out. It's inspired by a lot of different sci-fi things, the biggest being Neal Stephenson's The Diamond Age and that lovely tumblr story about the 100 point children.

It's set on a big-ass space ship colony, and you need credits for everything. Like, your basic needs will technically be met (large dormitories in your assigned work department/orphanage, fabricated Nutritionally Perfect food but not very tasty food, standard issue clothing, etc.) but if you want more, it costs credits. Credits are earned by working and possibly citizenship points, like that creepy Black Mirror episode.

So having your own place costs credits, but so does having kids, like a child tax. Don't think about the horrifying implications of that if you're not able to pay, don't do it, it's a dystopia remember.

Reggie's parents were just barely keeping their head above water, possibly due to spending their credits unwisely, possibly due to it being a fucking dystopia and they need to keep a bunch of people in poverty for the system to run. You know... like capitalism.

It’s not like spaces are officially segregated and all, but if you try to go to a park in a richer area as a kid in the standard issue (free) gray uniform... you’re gonna get picked on. Reggie learns early on where he’s ‘allowed’ to be and where he isn’t. Besides, after he starts going to work with his dad it doesn’t matter much anyway. Sometimes he sneaks out to the parks in the evenings or mornings (when normal kids are at school or in bed and his dad’s shift hasn’t started yet) so he can play on the Good Swings and stuff.

Rose and Ray both have pretty well-paying jobs (Ray watches the radar for asteroids and stuff on the bridge, as well as being a photographer, and Rose reviews and translates station-wide communications as well as being a private music teacher). Their kids want for nothing, they have a nice house, they have enough credits in savings that they’re ready for pretty much anything.

So at the end of the month Rose browses the internal logs, looking for places to donate credits. Regular donations go to the orphaned kids, so they can go to school, and she’s been known to pay off bullshit fines (“a teenager played their music too loud in the park and now the parents are facing downsizing their unit size to pay for it? That’s bullshit!”)

She kind of stumbles on Reggie by accident, thinking someone messed up the age from 31 to 13 on Reassignment Job Board. (She’s a reviewer after all, she can send a quick message through Internal Comms and get it fixed before someone is reprimanded and loses credits for a typo.) Until she reads his profile and his answers and is horrified. She talks to Ray, and then to Julie and Carlos, and oops, guess they have a new son.

Carlos is stoked to have an older brother. Julie is kind of horrified to learn there are kids who don’t get to go to school at all because their parents don’t have the credits for it, so of course she says yes. 

-As soon as Rose and Ray have convinced Reggie that no, they did not take him in as some kind of live-in butler or cleaning service, but as a kid, they sit him down with a Pad and get him to pick out some stuff that costs actual credits for the fabricator to make. Reggie is very concerned, so he sorts from lowest-price and works his way up until he balks at the amount of credits. (Which is... pretty much anything that isn’t the standard issue uniform but in like a nice colour.)

When Rose catches on, she tells the Pad to hide the prices, take out the ‘sort by price’ option, and take out anything that doesn’t fit into ‘budget - kids’. Then she hands the Pad back to Reggie and tells him to try again. He can still sort by colour and style and stuff, but he can’t see prices. If he hits his budget, the things that cost too much turn red.

(He only figures that out because he adds something he knows is really expensive, like a hoverboard, to his basket, just to see where the limits of this ‘budget’ lie. And is then very flustered because hoverboards are very very expensive, so he’s allowed to pick out a hoverboard plus like, seven sets of pants worth of stuff?)

In the end, he picks out a lot of black. Because it hides stains, unless you’re cleaning with bleach, and also it’s what the pilots wear as their uniform and pilots are really cool. Black jeans (Ray and Carlos are wearing jeans.) Black shirts. Black shoes. But then he stumbles on a very soft looking red plaid shirt, and there’s an option to have the fabricator make a square inch of test fabric for free. And it’s so very, very soft. He rubs the fabric between his fingers while he selects that shirt, and follows the ‘more like this’ links to several more items. A hoodie. Some pairs of thick socks. A little black leather bracelet, which feels like the height of luxury.

His room already has a non-standard issue bed, desk, and dresser,  but Ray reassures him that he can pick something else and they can feed these to the fabricator to get back some of the credits if he doesn’t like them. (He does like them. They look like wood, and the mattress on the bed is so comfortable.) He picks out a thick blanket that’s fuzzy on the inside, and a lamp that looks like a floating moon, and then, because there’s still budget left, a little statue of a horse, just to have something to put on the dresser.

He picks out a nice soft green for his walls, with a picture of rolling plains with long grass and a forest to cover one wall. He and Carlos sit on his bed and watch as the nanobots convert the boring gray walls, and that’s pretty cool too.

-Yes he gets his own stocking and it’s full of fun things (Carlos is mad at his parents they got Reggie socks, but Reggie loves his new socks. They have little pizzas on them!). His favourite is the little cube that projects stars on his ceiling, though.

-Of course Rose and Ray get him a dog for Christmas. It’s been haunting Rose ever since she read his answer on the questionnaire. It’s the last present of the day, and when Reggie opens his eyes, he immediately starts crying.

Carlos is very worried that he picked the wrong puppy, but Reggie assures him these are good tears, even though he can’t stop crying. They end up in a family group hug for like an hour, the puppy crawling from lap to lap.

Reggie names him Cosmo and he’s all ready to get a part-time job to make sure he has enough credits to feed him until Rose says no, the dog is family too, you don’t need to worry about that, Reggie.

-Reggie gets to go to school and it’s kind of terrifying but also really interesting. His reading and writing classes are mostly with adults and older teens who are going through apprenticeships, so thankfully he’s not stuck with the four and five year olds like he was worried he’d be. His math classes are with other freshmen, since he’s needed numbers for his job and he already knows basic math.

He meets Luke and Alex and Bobby in math class, and Luke immediately grabs him to be their fourth on the little pod of tables, because he’s new and thus interesting and otherwise Nick might have asked to join their group.

-Reggie has no idea what’s supposed to be wrong with Nick. He seems nice. Later, Bobby whispers it’s because Luke is jealous of Nick because his crush likes Nick more than she likes Luke. Luke threatens to stab him with a stylus while Alex rolls his eyes and discusses the next question with Reggie.

-Reggie likes his new friends, even if he doesn’t always understand their references.

-Julie introduces Reggie to her friends as well. He and Flynn get along great, since she takes everything he knows and doesn’t know and says in stride. Flynn only sees Cool Opportunities to introduce him to stuff like ‘mixing 4 soda powders together before putting them in the hydrator’ and ‘hiphop’.

Carrie kind of scares him. She’s one of those people who has enough credits to shoot Reggie out of an airlock and still get away scot free, and sometimes she looks like she’s contemplating just that. She sometimes scoffs when he doesn’t know something or says something ignorant (or poor), but usually a glare for Julie or Flynn mellows her out. 

But she’s also the first to absolutely destroy some jerk who tries to make fun of Reggie for not knowing how to read. And when she learns that the clothes Reggie is wearing are his first non-free fabricator clothes, she drags him and Julie and Flynn to something called a ‘thrift store’. It has stuff that either wasn’t fabricated at all, but was brought here from colonies or even Earth. It had stuff that was limited edition and thus couldn’t be fed back into the fabricator. And stuff that was donated by people who either didn’t need to feed stuff back into the fabricator, or for some reason didn’t want to. Lots of designers apparently donated their collections to the Thrift Store.

And yeah, Rose and Ray gave Reggie an allowance but it wasn’t like he had a lot saved up. And what he did, some part of him still thought he should hold on to, even though he was pretty convinced Rose and Ray weren’t sending him back.

To which Carrie scoffed and was like ‘please my dad won’t even notice if I buy out this whole store, we are getting you a statement piece and that is final’.

They have a great time trying on all kinds of weird and wonderful and silly clothes, though. Flynn and Julie make him wear a fuzzy neon orange bucket hat and try to convince Carrie that This Is It This Is His Statement Piece, until she threatens to buy it for him and he scrambles to convince her he was just joking. The way she laughs at him doesn’t feel mean, and he lets himself laugh too.

He ends up falling in love with an actual, real, non-fabricator leather jacket that fits him like a glove. He even loves the smell of it, real and earthy. Carrie refuses to let him see the price as she scans the tag and pays for it, and he thanks her over and over. He even, in his best penmanship, writes her a thank you note (which he’s seen Carlos and Julie do to their grandparents on a colony when they sent Christmas presents) and gives it to her at school the next day.

He pretends not to see her tear up, and she pretends not to notice he spelled her name wrong.

-Reggie tries to contact his mom through the messaging system but all his messages get denied. He’s worried she’s maybe in trouble, so one day he puts on his old standard issue uniform and sneaks into the kitchens, only to find that his mom doesn’t work there anymore. She got a better job, one of her old coworkers says, and has a nice unit for herself now. Last time he saw her, she was eating out wearing some nice non-standard issue clothing, having cocktails with her new friends.

He doesn’t try and find her after that. He goes to his room and uses some of his pocket money to make the room soundproof and cries and cries until he can’t cry anymore. And then lies to Rose when she comes home and says he just had a frustrating homework assignment.

Ray sits with him that night and helps him sound out his reading, and doesn’t comment when Reggie maybe leans in a little. He even wraps his arm around him, giving him a little squeeze and a ‘proud of you, mijo’ when he finishes the chapter.

-Rose teaches him piano, and in his music class, he learns guitar. Luke is incredibly excited about that, and will let him practice on Luke’s guitar for hours, helping him adjust his fingers and showing him chords.

-Later he switches to bass, because Luke has talked about wanting to start a band, and they don’t have a bass player yet. He likes the deep tones, and Rose and Ray get him a bass guitar for his birthday.

-Birthdays! Who knew there was more to them than a little free cupcake from the fabricator? Not Reggie!

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Not The Same

He's not the same- and neither are you. And you'll never be, as long as he can prevent that.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, angst, potentially triggering content, mentions of prostitution, fluff??, injury

Length: 2.8k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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You really only sleep on the ship and leave right after, because Jungkook told you he doesn't trust them enough to stay much longer than you both have to.

And you'd also probably be in the way of repairs- so you both roam around the surrounding city instead, looking around for ways to make money.

Jungkook plans on selling some of the cargo he has. Mainly Steel from earth- though the issue is that currently, no vendor you've visited wants to take it, and any other one that's in the surrounding areas is way too far away out of town to just walk to. There's some alarm to take caution today, because a certain gas is higher in the atmosphere especially outside of the city- so Jungkook denied any of your attempts at telling him to go alone instead then, since his body would not really have any reaction to the change in the air.

But he refuses. Says he can't leave you alone, for some reason you're not sure of.

What he doesn't take into account is however, that he does, occasionally, leave you out of sight. For example right now, as he went into a store to buy something- and you can't stand here and just wait until disaster strikes. He needs the money, his ship is important- and from what you could tell from the destination coordinates inside the control station, he seems to have a tight schedule ahead that he already will have trouble to keep up. And either way, it's time for you to repay him his hospitality- after all, the only reason you're healthy and still alive and not in captivity, is because he simply decided that.

And it's a kind decision, even if he didn't mean for it to be one.

So you feel in your pocket for the little device for his ship, and look for an opportunity to vanish- doing it exactly as he seems to argue about payment for something, a perfect chance since he's distracted now.

The city is bustling, loud, fast paced and intimidating. But it's nothing you can't manage- signs and a rough idea of the city's layout giving you enough hints to help you know where you have to go. That place is a vendor, far out of town- about a three hour walk. Manageable- you're used to walking most of the days anyways from your past homelessness on earth, so it's not out of question.

You just hope that you find the right person, and don't run into some bad news along the way.

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Back at the store, Jungkook is absolutely panicking inside.

You're gone, completely vanished, not even a trace of your scent remaining to help him find you. And while he could always just regroup and settle himself before freaking out, you kind of have his main communication device with you- which makes him worry about your intentions, considering how much you've tried just hours prior to make him sell you after all, just to fund the repairs for his ship.

He can't even think about doing that. He's not his father.

He asks around if anyone has seen you, before he even thinks about your collar. He could just have you searched by law enforcement, and he's steady on the way towards a station, when he stutters. They'll probably shoot you down if you run, and considering your past, you'd definitely run.

So instead, he walks around, goes hint after hint to somehow try and figure out what the hell your plan is. You definitely didn't return to the ship, so he's safe in that department- it would be a nightmare to somehow make those guys understand that you are not for sale, and weren't allowed to just.. sell yourself like that. And if he was to lock his communication device, they'd surely ping you and you'd be labeled a thief- which would just get you hunted down again.

For now, you're safe with his collar around your neck, his name, ship number and citizen ID engraved in it. Currently, you're owned and basically free to move around-

and he hopes you don't get the stupid idea of trying to get rid of it.

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Your nose is burning. The back of your throat is equally in pain- just like your chest, breath tasting like iron as if you'd ran a marathon too fast, too long. But it doesn't matter, because you finally spot the sign towards the vendor ahead.

The large tent is quiet, but at least it's shielded from the scolding sun, a little cooler but stuffy from all the cargo that's catching dust out here in the desert. A man, three eyes in his face with one closed permanently, is looking at you. "What'cha here for, pet?" He chuckles lowly, like a man who's smoked since he was born. He's pretty overweight, hammock-like seating arrangement creaking a little as his body shakes with laughter. "Come 'ere. What does your master want, eh?" He asks, and you walk closer, holding out the communication device that displays the currently loaded cargo in Jungkook's ship.

"120 tons of Steel. Earth-made." You say, though your throat hurts when you talk. "I heard you're currently looking for that." You say, as the man leans closer, and hums, clearly interested. Only now do you notice the two extra sets of arms he has, three fingers on every hand, claw like tips dull, not sharp.

"Indeed.." He mumbles. "What does he want for it?" He asks, and you swallow the stale tasting saliva, clearing your throat.

"Whatever you can offer." You say, remembering how much Jungkook had paid, according to the data on his device. "At least twenty-five hundred though."

"Pah!" He laughs, leaning back. "He's one stupid fella if he sends his pet to get money!" The guy laughs. "You get thirty six hundred."

"Forty flat." You say.

"Thirty five, now that you're trying to be bold, little brat." He growls. "I could just shoot you right now, and take the license for the goods instead."

"Then my collar will send a distress signal to my master immediately." You say. "He's waiting for me, after all. And he probably knows the worth of the goods a lot better."

"Are you threatening me?" He asks lowly, squinting sharply at you.

"I'm just offering the option to agree on a price with a 'pet' that's not aware of the actual worth of the goods she's supposed to sell." You shrug.

It's tense for a good moment, and suddenly, the man laughs, loudly enough to reverb in the metal vases stored around, hammock shaking under his weight.

"You're a lovely little thing!" He roars. "I almost want to buy you instead!" He chuckles, slowly calming down. "Forty flat, agreed. Give me the thing so I can pay-"

"I'll need it.. physically." You tell him, trying to keep your face stoic despite your growing fear.

"He taught you well. Ah, at least I'll get my things." He mumbles, searching under the large table full of things for something- filling a bag with metal currencies, same one's Jungkook and everyone else uses commonly. "Forty five." He purrs, putting the bag on the table. "Just because you're very entertaining." The alien man rumbles towards you, pushing the bag closer with one of his clawed fingers. "Buy yourself something nice with it." He laughs, as you take the bag, and tap on the device to sell the goods- hovering it over a glowing patch on the metal table that's clearly meant for the signal of the device you're holding.

'Ownership transferred to: Yaelno 'Spider' Spyolden.' is seen displayed as a message.

"I will have my men pick up the goods tomorrow morning." Yaelno tells you. "You should go home now, little pet. I bet your master already misses his dog." He roars with laughter, as you snatch the bag and practically run out of the tent.

Only when you're far away enough to not see the tent clearly anymore do you check the bag to count- and the man was true to his word, currency real, shining with the distinctive rainbow- shimmer that can't be replicated, and the Number of bigger and smaller coins adds up to the amount you agreed on with the man.

Even the extra adds up.

The only thing that you now feel could become a problem, is the storm- throwing sand left and right around you, while the air feels scratchy in your throat, stinging in your eyes with every breath you take. You try and use your shirt over your mouth, but it's useless- you can't really see properly anymore, barely reaching the first few metal sheds outside of town, when you hide behind a wall, curling up after hiding the bag of money under your clothes.

You made it- but you somehow failed, too. What a mess.

And only faintly, as you lose consciousness, do you notice someone crouching down in front of your body now laying on your side on the ground, a hand pulling the collar a little to read what's engraved in the tracker, which's LED light is now blinking red due to your body being in clear distress.

A sigh is heard. A low voice speaks- mostly to himself.

"Jeon Jungkook.." The voice mumbles, almost disappointed, but also a little amused. "..You're just like your father after all."

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"You have to help me." Jungkook immediately barks at his long time friend, who steps aside after Jungkook just walked in.

"Ah yes, Jungkook, of course you can come inside, make yourself at home. I'm doing great, thanks for asking-" The man says, before Jungkook turns around, eyes a stressed turquoise color.

"I'm not kidding around- I need to find something.!" He presses on, while his friend helps him sit in the kitchen area of the metal house, inner walls padded with fabrics and pelts to keep the warmth inside. "I lost someone-"

"I know." He says, a gentle smile on his lips. "Nah- sit down. You're way too agitated right now to think clearly." He pushes the Alien back into his chair, anger slowly mixing into the colors of his eyes. "She's fine- Yoongi is looking after her right now." He explains, filling a glass with water before he sets it onto the table. "Why was she out alone anyways?"

"She wasn't-" Jungkook rubs his hands over his face. "I just- I went into a store to get her those stupid.. things she needs for knitting or something, and when I-"

"You bought her knitting equipment?" The man laughs. "That's adorable, Jungkook!"

"Seokjin, shut up, it's not about that!" Jungkook growls. "Anyways, I came back out and she was gone. I have no idea where she went or why!" He sighs, finally taking the glass to drink from it.

"Well, she had a pretty hefty amount of cash on her, that's for sure." Jin says, sitting down in front of Jungkook, who's eyes are now full of a surprised blue. "And your general communication device too- though it was locked." He informs his friend in front of him, who's clearly finally coming down, emotionally, from all the stress he's been through. "What's she to you anyways? A partner?" He wonders.

"No-" Jungkook denies. "-I'm not sure anymore.." He says, staring into the water in his glass. "She snuck on board. Didn't care if she died. Even now-" He sighs. "She wanted me to sell her to the mechanics so I could get it fixed."

"So you took her in." Jin gently finishes, though Jungkook shakes his head.

"No, I'm just-" He pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, thinking clearly. "I haven't found the appropriate planet for her yet." He excuses.

"Uh-huh." Seokjin lifts a brow in question. "That's why you went out and got her knitting-stuff."

"Well, she's bored!" Jungkook defends himself, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. "Doesn't have anything to do, can't read well, doesn't know how to steer a ship or calculate maps. I don't have any kind of job for her." He says.

"So you don't want her to be bored." Jin offers. "You want her to be happy." He teases, making Jungkook growl while his eyes can't hide the embarrassed pinkish hue.

"Fuck off." He simply responds, when a door opens.

"Oh." Yoongi says, his cat-like ears turning towards him, tail snapping upwards in interest. "She's asleep, but fine." He offers, only somewhat leaning the door closed, keeping it open for a bit in case he's needed back inside. "Throat's irritated as hell. She won't talk for a little while, that's for sure." He says, bumping his head into Jungkook's- a common greeting amongst the shorter Alien's kind. "The hell was she doing outside?" He wonders, filling a glass with water for himself.

"Jungkookie bought her some supplies so she can have a hobby while he explores the galaxy with her~" Seokjin teases, earning a glare from the younger alien.

"Oh really? Thought you wouldn't go for a human, considering you didn't want to be like your father."

It's deadly quiet as the sentence is spoken, even Seokjin now on edge as Jungkook's white eyes stare at the tabletop.

The worst thing is, that Jungkook can't even deny any of it. He doesn't know why he's getting attached to you, why he can't seem to get rid of you even if the world offers him chance after chance. He could've left you twice already- but he can't do it. He actually enjoys your company, especially after letting you inside the command central. You're calm, and easy, and you feel good to be around- and yeah, maybe his ship has been fucking lonely all those years that he's lived this life.

Is he just like his father after all?

"No." Jungkook says, quietly. "I'm not like him."

"So you're not her partner?" Yoongi wonders, and Jungkook shakes his head, eyes swirling colors, unsure what's really going on inside him. "Interesting. Maybe we could keep her here then?" He looks at Seokjin. "Or I could take her with me. I'm sure my partner would enjoy some fellow human company-"

"She's not going with you." Jungkook denies. "Neither is she staying with Jin. She's registered under my name."

"So she is your partner-" Yoongi jabs again.

"She's not!" Jungkook bursts out. "She's-" He searches frantically inside his head for an answer that could satisfy not only his friends, but himself also. What are you? You're definitely not the same as all the other humans. So what the hell are you?

"She's a friend." Jungkook finally decides, not only for now, but in general. "She's a friend, and she's coming with me." He says, a final tone to his voice that let's no argument get involved again.

"Jungkook." Yoongi says, tiny tufts of hair on the tips of his cat ears swaying a bit in the wind of the fan close by. "You know that I just tried to help you, right?" He offers, as the fellow alien of a different kind looks at him. "Of course you're not like him." He says. "And neither is she the same as your mother-"

"Absolutely not." Jungkook says, standing up at that- the mention of his mother clearly setting him off. "-I'll make sure she doesn't end up like her." He says, before he walks into your room where you're sleeping, a soft but thin blanket over your body, sensor attached to your forehead to measure your temperature.

And yet again, just sitting close to you is already putting him at ease again. He feels ten times better than just moments ago, simply because he can watch you breathe and be assured that you're fine now. He slowly moves to the little bag of money, counting it, an unsure and most of all surprised expression on his face at the sheer amount of it all, before he spots his communication device.

And unlocking it gives him all the answers.

"You sly little devil.." He mumbles to himself, chuckling a little under his breath. You must've overheard him the entire time at the vendors where he tried to get rid of the slowly rusting metal inside his ship- but the fact that you sold it for almost more than double the amount he thought he'd ever get on this planet, is astonishing.

You're full of surprises- and maybe even more than he thought.

Maybe keeping you at his side isn't such a bad idea after all.

Maybe he should let you stay.

[soaplagoon]

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Star Wars Club Activities

The Bookshelf from This Set (Jedi Archives)

I’ve used most, if not all EPs/GPs/SPs, so please assume it requires all packs including the new Paranormal SP. It DEFINITELY needs Journey to Batuu in order to work as most of the costumes, gameplay elements, etc. are taken from that pack!! It does not require any of the new Kits.

MIGHT BE REQUIRED

Batuu Cookbook Recipes*

*I had problems in my game BEFORE downloading this with making Star Wars restaurants with Batuu food, it wouldn’t work, but I noticed after downloading this mod it started working?? It was probably actually fixed in one of EA’s patches but I couldn’t find any info confirming that. It’s just a nice mod to have.

OPTIONAL CONTENT

Whisper Eyes + Pet Version

Mouth Scale Slider

Base-Game Star Wars Costumes for Batuu

Kylo Ren Outfit No Shine

JTB Twilek Default Replacement

JTB Alien Eye Replacements

Baby Yoda Default Replacement

RECOMMENDED CONTENT

Batuu Loading Screens

Sci-Fi Phone Overrides

Lightsaber Duel NPCs

Occult Interactions Unlocked for Batuu

All Social Interactions Unlocked for Batuu NPCs

NPC Control (NPCC)* (Update for Batuu)

*This one really helps with immersion, the mod prevents the game from generating new randomized townies (that are ugly) and instead uses the NPCs included in “Other households”. This helps make sure the NPCs are all Star Wars themed only!

Check out my #s4starwars and #s4scifi tags for more recommended content!

WORLD PREVIEW + LOT CREDITS

Takodana (Willow Creek)

Batuu Palace by Ticaboo55

The Rebels Hideout by HowToLiiv

little Batuu Outpost by elfchenuna

Star Wars Space Bar by ehaught58

Ol’ Ben Kenobi’s Bar by tinalice

Journey to Batuu House by jelenasim18

Oasis by MathildaBtw

Small Jedi Hut by ThaBlueLlama

Batuu Scoundrels Starter by luckyheather

Abandoned Star Wars Camp by DonKiko1

Qui-Gon Outlook by KhanMaul

Pancakes Reno by simsperation84

Star Wars: AT-AT by K0j1K

♥Challenge Input♥ by SimMurrey

Batuu Bungalow by iatyches

First Order Base by Jayocean

First Order Creek by Katieb0bs

Batuu Place by SarahLaCroix

Resistance Home Base by SuddenDrama

Star Wars Live by ezenker83

Home Sweet Home by tacks4snacks101

Secret World - Sylvan Glade Tree House by JaffaBiscuit64

16 Residential; 1 Park; 1 Nightclub; 1 Bar; Gym; 1 Library; 1 Secret World; 22 Total

Tatooine (Oasis Springs)

Lars Moisture Farm by CtrlAltCraft

Ben Kenobi’s Hut by Ender_mBind

Sandcrawler by Xx_Jw0ody_xX

Star Wars on Tatooine by marion0308

Tusken Raider Camp by Ender_mBind

Mos Eisley Cantina by Sbstnsbstnsbstn

Jabba the Hutt’s Palace by Martiqus28

Dystopian Star Wars World by nikkamore

Millenium Falcon by me (soaplagoon/sapphomet)

Batuu Homestead by Lauriarty

Oasis Bar by Daniel_SimFansDE

TOSCHE STATION by Tibbergotchi

Jedi Meditation Gardens by GoldenGeep

Batuu Shopping Post by Arrkkoss

Batuu Vet Clinic by KAKAtune999

The Resistance Eatery by Byaheem

M/TRN Century Robin by Ender_mBind

Resistance Hideout by TheSvenja777 & MAWINA

Resistance’s Post by Lyssende

Home away from Batuu by capricornfox

Little Batuu Market by GoldenGeep

Secret Lot - Forgotten Grotto by MouraMor

9 Residential; 2 Retail; 1 Tiny Home Residential; 1 Park; 1 National Park; 1 Community Space; 1 Spa; 1 Bar; 1 Nightclub; 1 Lounge; 1 Restaurant; 1 Vet Clinic; 21 Total (+1 Secret Lot)

Dantooine (Newcrest)

XN375 by Palakoslip

Batuu Starter Home by MelinaRoxanne

Tatooine Dwelling by marion0308

Tatooine Farm Home by burningsunset

Tatooine-Batuu Home by CaroApfelmus

StarWars Jungle Nightclub by gryphon75

Sandtrap Hideaway by jay7777531

botooa by lilie07h

Batuu Bunker (No CC) by mar1nka

Batuu’s Yuma Heights by marion0308

Sith Temple by Fran_Miyajima

star wars house 3 by malee_zonia

First Order Earth Base by JakeDavidBTG14

First Order Headquarter by TheSvenja777

Star Wars Pool by muschi12345678

12 Residential; 1 Pool; 1 Nightclub; 1 University Housing; 15 Total

Kamino (Magnolia Promenade)

Kamino city w/furniture by NattieNat

EMPRESS’ QUARTERS STAR WA by Kkhofmann19

Club Xeno by theranger0119

Sith QG by Adraborann

Secret World - Sixam Resistance Outpost by DuncanJK3

2 Residential; 1 Retail; 1 Nightclub; 1 Secret World; 5 Total

Yavin 4 (Windenburg)

Tatooine Solar House by marion0308

Micro Star Wars Starter by Redcider97

Star Wars Temple Ruins by barna636

*Batuu Resistance Family* by luckyheather

Ach-to by Jenniferladybug

The Bluffs by heejinpetals

Star Wars Family Home 2 by Suthura

Batuu by Marine07070

Batuu Inspired Home by Tinker322

G.M.O by Jayocean

Batuu Home by Ardthoniel

Dystopian Mansion by KateEmerald

Slipshod Nabtooine by relishturtle3

Havisham House by LadyAmaylee

Ancient Runes by Lithiarch

A Galactic Suburban by IsabellaCortez

Mimsy’s Batuu Cafe by SarahLaCroix

Wookieleaks Library by Redcider97

Club Mythosaur by SarahLaCroix

A Star Wars Home by marion0308

8 Sim Starter + Pool by PaigeAndMaddie

Ahsoka’s House by pluto-sapphire

Star Wars NightClub by bradybrad7

Family Park by KaiXDemoness

Galactic Hub by BigFatHen18

First Order Training Camp by bakon1

star wars batu pool by ShaikA80

11 Residential; 2 Rental; 1 Tiny Home Residential; 2 Cafe; 2 Nightclub; 1 Bar; 1 Library; 1 Museum; 1 Gym; 1 Pool; 1 Park; 3 Other (1 Island Bluffs; 1 Von Haunt Estate; 1 Ancient Runes); 27 Total

Coruscant (San Myshuno)

Dexter's Diner-Star Wars by RivendellStar

Jedi Temple by bedazzlecat

Star Wars Jedi Temple by GLaChaille

Future Space City Home by Ritpit01

Purple Lotus - Cyberpunk by Mcintyre1981

Rainbows Edge - Cyberpunk by Mcintyre1981

Darth Vader Café by KAKAtune999

Entraînement au combat by oiseaudelune

Senate Building by VirranJ

21 Apartments; 1 Rental; 1 University Housing; 1 Restaurant; 1 Spa; 1 Karaoke Bar; 1 Bar; 1 Nightclub; 1 Gym; 1 Other (Center Park); 30 Total

All of the apartments (21 Total) are by me

Malachor (Forgotten Hollow)

The Emperor in Exile by Simdoughnut

Batuu House by SCUMBAGCOUGARTL

Star Wars House by SergentFrost02

Tinkers Outpost by yoovie_nyc

The Order Residence by MelinaRoxanne

4 Residential; 1 Haunted House Residential; 5 Total

Naboo (Brindleton Bay)

Theed Royal Palace Naboo by Simoniona

Naboo Lake Park by FluffyYomi

The Jedi's Temple by Blair5555

Naboo Restaurant by azafad

Naboo House by Beldochan

Naboo Library by Beldochan

X-70B Phantom Spaceship by Scheinheilig1603

(Deleted) by CYB0RG11RL31

Star Wars Bar by alligrl57

This is the Way by Tibbergotchi

Micro resistance by 3989

Temple Park by Xila31

Naboo Lake House by Purrgil

Naboo Home by Muffindella

Humble Naboo Home by ironicandiconic

Naboo House by mecachis7

6 Residential; 2 Rental; 1 Tiny Home Residential; 2 Parks; 1 Library; 1 Restaurant; 1 Spa; 1 Nightclub; 1 Bar; 16 Total

Bespin (Del Sol Valley)

Cloud City by Simoniona

Intergalactic Eatery by Chrelizabeth

Batuu Build by Lauriarty

☆ Batuu - Betula ☆ by mnewi1103

Slipshod Mesquite by simplysim0

Slipshod Mesquite by PaigeVW

Rogue Camp by trekkey

XN874 Batuu by Palakoslip

Star Wars Rebel Bar by LoveSimplySim

Nightclub Jakku by KAKAtune999

Batuu Resistance Home by dadaisy232

4 Residential; 1 Tiny Home Residential; 1 Rental; 1 Lounge; 1 Restaurant; 1 Karaoke Bar; 1 Gym; 1 Nightclub; 11 Total

Jakku (Strangerville)

Secret Lab Reno 2 by Llongyfarchiadau

Batuu Springside by SarahLaCroix

Star Wars BAr by Nymmy-Chan

memories of batuu by MaschaBrok & alexmamy

Scoundrels’ Tavern by Blair5555

StrangeLittleBatuu by Marmaduke1102

At-At by Drgluon

The Razor Crest by N7Quinn

Star Wars Starter by MisstoryPlays

Rey's StarWars Jakku home by CosmicBlaze1

Scoundrel’s Outpost by ghostgirlBuilds

First Order Hideaway by xxsithladyxx

5 Residential; 2 Tiny Home Residential; 2 Rental; 1 Library; 1 Bar; 1 Other (Generic); 12 Total

Kashyyyk (Sulani)

Stranded... by MrSimfeld

Bounter Hunters’ Den by bedazzlecat

Starwars first order by mcteeezy

Hondo’s Powerhouse by

Smugglers Den by Katieb0bs

Batuu Market Village by Ardthoniel

A Batuu Vibe Waterin Hole by Jayocean

Star Wars Outpost by manimalcracker

Resistace Hideaway by deutschedorie

Journey to Batuu House by PaigeAndMaddie

Jedi Starter Home by SimSimma143

Batuuan Engineer’s Home by PixieBuilder

The Cove Spiral Gardens by Eyeseezya

Dreaming of Batuu by SimsEclaire

6 Residential; 2 Rental; 2 Beach; 1 Onsen; 1 Bar; 1 Gym; 1 Community Space; 14 Total

Ahch-To (Glimmerbrook)

The Shipping Views by Sif_Savage

Batuu Home by Ardthoniel

Batuu house by Niizuma59

memories of batuu by alexmamy

A Star wars Cantina by Rihpley

Secret World - The Magic Realm HQ by SimerlyPoe

3 Residential; 1 Rental; 1 Bar; 1 Secret World; 6 Total

D’Qar (Britechester)

Batuu Bar & Grill by Laireen35

The Cantina by Straggy

Batuu Inspired Home by BaggyBoyd

Jedi Spellcaster Starter by Liferson

Star Wars Batuu House by bethmoseley1

Jedi Temple Academy by RivendellStar

Female Jedi Dorms by me (soaplagoon/sapphomet)

Home Base by theschuyler16

Male Jedi Dorms by me (soaplagoon/sapphomet)

First Order Base Home by marion0308

Sith Temple by QueenNefertiti93

Female Sith Dorms by me (soaplagoon/sapphomet)

Male Sith Dorms by me (soaplagoon/sapphomet)

6 University Housing; 3 Residential; 2 University Commons; 1 Library; 1 Bar; 13 Total

Corellia (Evergreen Harbor)

star wars housing by marion0308

Batuu Space Station House by solomhf

*Batuu Art Center* by luckyheather

Star Wars micro-maison by Dragolo741

Underground Cantina by iamamayaxx

(Deleted) by Daniel_SimFansDE

Star Wars First Order by Bonnibelle_Blue

Batuu house by Niizuma59

Star Wars Batuu Home by Arianrhodddx

Ryloth Nook by vixylix83

Resistance Lair by jesswynne

4 Residential; 4 Apartments; 2 Tiny Home Residential; 2 Rental; 1 Arts Center; 1 Gym; 1 Bar; 15 Total

All of the apartments (4 Total) are by me

Hoth (Mt. Komorebi)

First Order Starter Home by SimSimma143

*First Order Family Home* by luckyheather

First Order Onsen by me (soaplagoon/sapphomet) & squirrel996

Echo Hoth Base by Jai544

Coruscant Trades by HIppY_PaNda710

Batuu Sith Altar by nourezzi22

Batuu First Order Starter by Katieb0bs

The First Order Shack by Kyloki_Wolf

Cozy Batuu Home by likethegeneral

Batuu Pod House by jennerlee

Batuu Place by SarahLaCroix

242 Wakabamori (StarWars) by me (soaplagoon/sapphomet)

243 Wakabamori (StarWars) by me (soaplagoon/sapphomet)

Not Batuu, It Is Tatooine by Chriskager

Secret Lot - Mt. Komorebi Peak by Memories410

7 Residential; 2 Rental; 1 Onsen; 1 Community Space; 1 Gym; 1 Bar; 1 National Park; 1 Secret Lot; 15 Total

Endor (Granite Falls)

Endor Rebel Camp by azafad

Forest Moon of Endor by Lauriarty

Get-away to Endor by jay7777531

Endor Hideaway by simsjah_

Endor Living by yoursimsyodiina

Ewok Village Rentals by Polargirl69

Secret Lot - Hermit’s House by Gryphi

5 Rental; 1 National Park; 6 Total (+1 Secret Lot)

Dagobah (Selvadorada)

Yoda's swamp park by Megafashionista

Dagobah Yoda House by Joellyfish

Dagobah (Star Wars) by CtrlAltCraft

Star Wars Jungle Cafe by gryphon75

Star Wars bar by Kerenza4

Batuu Lair Final V. by luckyheather

Star Wars Jungle House by TheSimStream

4 Rental; 1 National Park; 1 Bar; 1 Cafe; 7 Total

Batuu

Resistance Encampment by Amalathea

Black Spire Outpost by agentcartxr

First Order District by ValRocks123

3 Other (1 Resistance Encampment; 1 Black Spire Outpost; 1 First Order Cargo); 3 Total

Most of these map previews use these fan art maps, they’re optional of course (and sadly there isn’t one for Batuu yet!).

HOUSEHOLDS

^I’ve also done Guidry but he is hidden from the households menu

175 EAXIS + 30 Originals, All are available for download on my Sims 4 Gallery (my username is sapphomet!)

CLUBS

^3 Private Clubs designed so the 4 Cantina Band Members will show up and play music at Nightclubs, Bars, and Lounges!

HOLIDAYS

Set for 14-Day Months

Spring:

Summer:

Fall/Autumn:

Winter:

RADIO - RECOMMENDED CUSTOM MUSIC

How to Install Custom Music

You have to convert the following links to .MP3 to be able to put in your Custom Music folder, if you can’t do that yourself or if you’re having struggles please feel free to ask me, I don’t mind sending the files for you!

-

DINNER JAZZ - Cantina Music from A New Hope

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EsvfptdFXf4

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9FVADOLRf54

My Mos Eisley Cantina lot in Tatooine (Oasis Springs) uses only Dinner Jazz speakers, so this will make it only play the cantina music there (if you only enable the custom music)!

-

ELECTRONICA - Dex’s Diner from Attack of the Clones

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QE_aMN0aWA4

Same as above, my Dexter’s Diner lot in Coruscant (San Myshuno) only uses Electronica music, so this will help with immersion there too^

-

DJ R3X - Extended Playlist from Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge

DJ R3X already comes with a few of the songs listed here, but I find it annoying that it only plays a couple of the songs from Disney’s decently sized playlist for Oga’s Cantina. I would recommend downloading all of the songs from this playlist and disabling the ones that come with the game so you have the full versions of all the songs:

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLiNVoBckLqLkZiHccDJk_lYiUrlESFO9z

If that’s too much work, I would at least recommend downloading custom music for the Mos Eisley Cantina Remix:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AydLFrcYNR8

DISCLAIMER

I am a pretty big Star Wars fan, but I’ve only seen the main movies, the Mandalorian, and half of The Clone Wars. I don’t really play any Star Wars video games aside from LEGO Star Wars and the 2005 version of Battlefront II, and I have no experience with Legends or the Extended Universe. I tried to do as much basic research as possible for making this save file, but it is possible that there are some canon inconsistencies with how I made the characters here. Please keep that in mind!

If you have any suggestions on what would be cool to add to this save, please let me know! You’re of course able to edit and use this save as you want, all I ask is that you do not reupload it or claim it as your own. You are free to give people the direct link to my download pages for it though!

Please keep in mind that there are other creators currently working on Star Wars Saves. I do not own the concept of a Star Wars Save, and I am excited for these other save files to come out!! I give permission to all other creators to use my original sims and edits in their saves too. 

[burntotears]

WIP Wednesday 🚧

I am working on a sequel to @bekkachaos ’s An Oasis in the Stars – if you haven’t read it, you should rectify that immediately, it’s fucking brilliant. It’s my first Malex AU and it’s set in a semi-dystopian world with a little bit of space stuff but that’s mostly over now that they are back to Earth. It’s been a lot of fun so far even though I’ve only written like 4K.

Day 2 – Asteria Space Station (International Space Agency Conference Room 3)

“Captain,” Flight Director Maria DeLuca addressed him, standing on the other side of the table with her hands clasped behind her and a stern expression on her face. He hadn’t seen her since they left, but she looked like she aged more than just the few years they’d been gone–things in Mission Control may not have been so great during their absence. “I trust you were treated well yesterday.”

Honey first, sting later. None of the duties in the Flight Director’s job description included interrogation tactics, so he assumed the military had given her a crash course. “Can’t complain, Flight.” He nearly linked his fingers behind his head, but figured that was a little too showy, even for this farce.

“Please, Alex, call me Maria. We’re no longer on mission.” Her face softened ever so slightly, but he could still see the tightness behind her eyes.

“With all due respect to you as a commanding officer, Flight, this is an interrogation,” Alex put both of his hands on the table and leaned forward, “which definitely makes it part of the official mission. There’s certainly no need to break protocol.”

“This is not an interrogation, Manes.”

“Ma’am,” Alex said, unable to keep the edge of sarcasm from his voice now, “I borrowed a multi-billion dollar space shuttle. Let’s just call a spade a spade.”

“Okay, Captain Manes, we’ll have it your way.” She finally sat down at the conference table across from him. “Do you care to explain why you bypassed ISA protocol and landed the Roswell on Earth rather than docking with Asteria upon your return from mission?”

Alex had to bite back his first response, which was a hearty ‘no thanks, now can I go?’ because despite being tired of their bullshit, he did need to tread carefully with how he approached this if he wanted to keep everyone safe–not just Michael and his family, but his own crew too. He didn’t want any of this to blow back on Kyle or Liz, which meant he had to make it entirely believable that this was a decision he had enacted on his own.

“Flight,” he started carefully, “when we re-established contact on our way back to Earth, shouldn’t the Ortechos have been relocated back to Asteria per Liz Ortecho’s contract with the ISA for this mission?”

The Director looked confused by the response. “I’m not in charge of green passes, Captain, nor am I privy to the finer details of the contracts your crew signed. What does this have to do with the question I asked?”

“Everything, frankly.”

[words-writ-in-starlight]

What is The Mechanisms ?

The Mechanisms are...a band, technically.  In practice, they’re somewhere between a band, an audio drama, and incredibly high-commitment performance art, but they are TECHNICALLY a band.

The more helpful answer is that the Mechanisms are sort of a story within a story, and I’m just going to explain all of it on in-universe terms and you’ll just have to bear with me.  

The Mechanisms are a crew of immortals who kill time by kicking around the universe in a sentient spaceship wreaking general havoc and getting up to their eyeballs in various wars.  They picked up their immortality courtesy of a woman named Doctor Carmilla, who gave them the eponymous Mechanisms--mechanical organs, limbs, even whole bodies, which keep them from dying--and who has since been thrown out an airlock.  The Mechs keep track of all this time (and all these people) they’ve killed by writing songs about it, which you can find on Spotify.  

There are two collections of assorted songs (backstories, single incidents, etc) called Tales To Be Told (Vol I and Vol II), as well as four albums!  The albums are:

Once Upon A Time (In Space): fairy tales, but fairy tales as an interstellar war between Old King Cole and Snow White, set mostly to folk rock

Ulysses Dies At Dawn: the Odyssey, but the Odyssey on a planet-wide dystopian City powered by the dead and ruled by the immortal rich, set mostly to blues rock

High Noon Over Camelot: classic Arthuriana, but Arthuriana on a long-lost space station full of warring factions, set mostly to...I don’t know if “western rock” is a genre but HNOC sounds like a cowboy movie so I’m going with it

The Bifrost Incident: Norse mythology, specifically Ragnarok, if Ragnarok was about wormholes, Lovecraftian nightmares, and trains, set to prog rock

I know all of these sound COMPLETELY BONKERS but you should actually trust me and give it a whirl.  If a whole album sounds like a lot to start with, I recommend Gunpowder Tim vs The Moon Kaiser (a ten minute backstory about their gunner) or One-Eyed Jack’s (a short song about the origins of their First Mate, Jonny D’Ville).  

Also I have like 60% of a OUATIS AU of the Kencyrath written if that’s motivating to anyone.

[thekidultlife]

100 Things I Learned About Love | Vernon!Android AU

Pairing: Hansol Vernon Chwe x female!reader

Genre: SCI FI!! Action, Romance, Angst(?)

Word Count: 22.2k (yes another giant fic)

Warnings: A bit of death and gore

A/N: Well, I’m gonna say sorry first to the anon who requested a vernon android au when we were just starting this blog (like three yrs ago) and I only managed to finish it now;; 

So this fic is a continuation (and is in the same universe) of the Jihoon Android AU The Coldest Human; The Warmest Robot. It is primarly inspired by the book “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?” by Philip K. Dick and the anime “Beatless”. This one here has also elements from Huxley’s “A Brand New World” (because I just love reading dystopian novels for some reason). I kind of mashed everything together to create the world! 

This will be the 2nd part of a four part series! Next would be Soonyoung’s story and then finally Joshua’s! This series kind of explores the whole world I created for it. Jihoon’s story introduced the whole world and the relationship between android and creator, while Hansol’s story explores the world of bounty hunters! I still haven’t decided fully with what to do with the rest but I hope you enjoy this one!!

Tag List: @haotheheckk, @smthingabtlove!! (because they asked to skskks)

If mornings had any color, it would be a disgusting green. Afternoons, electric orange. Midnights, as dark as crude oil. Cities were built upon lines of flickering yellow, as streets were colored with the void of space; dark, desolate, and meaningless.

Society is tinted with the same shades of emptiness. Dressed in uniform white body suits—hair covered entirely as it was deemed unhygienic—only the face bore the resemblance of the classic human being, as if it was a mask. Serene smiles and polite gestures were exchanged almost to a hundred times; laughter was hollow and chemically induced, as with tears and frowns. Frivolity and superficiality were the main trends. 

As what they appear to be, is what they are actually are.

Welcome to the West Martian colony!

“Here ya go. The case’s now yours, doll,” your boss tossed a folder filled with papers on the polyester table. “Choi quit a few days ago after retiring Woozi.”

Your head perked up immediately as soon as you heard the news; disbelief painted on your face.

“What? Why?” you asked, standing up with mouth agape. He was one of your idols, your role models; the reason why you went into this line of work.

“He’s not talkin’, doll. Sadly. Told me it’s personal. But can’t blame him really, this business is gettin’ old.”

Your boss with his thinning hair and scotch-tapped broken glasses, sipped from a coffee stained mug; seemingly too overused for years of constant coffee drinking.

Yet you loved this place—this pseudo-police department home to bounty hunters of West Mars, with its crumbling brittle plastic window blinds and its moldy paper odor—all a different world than that of the city around it. You loved how it was like something straight from an Earth comic book; classic, rustic, and homey; a sheer contrast to the minimalist style of the new century.

“So what do we have here? Some andy from the Orion branch?”

A finger flipped through the factsheet with brows raised and lips in a tiny pout as you scanned the information laid before you. There were several official photographs of the unit after it was made, but none were security cam shots.

“So, from the organization…SVT-class Type-12 Vernon. The name’s too Western.”

Your boss shrugged. “The org’s just pastin’ names on their andys like butter on bread, dolly.”

“Guess so. But this Vernon just looks someone my age,” you remarked, munching on the biscotti within your arm’s reach.

“It’s an andy, YN. A hundred years, and it’ll still look the same. Now off ya go, better start retiring ‘em or you’re gonna get retired first.”

Sighing, you stood up and brushed the crumbs off your skinny jeans. Bending over, you picked up your briefcase filled with a laser gun and a V-T scale equipment as you bid your boss a short goodbye.

In reality, you didn’t want to leave the home base.

One particular reason was that you’d be taking the hovercraft and start cruising around the godforsaken city, not that it believes in any god for as long as you could account for. The city was an abomination, a stubborn mulish creation born out of rejection of the old, ancient ways—ways that had led to the destruction of the Earth, ways you still hold on to despite migrating to Mars. Despite being physically present, and even born in the red planet, you knew your heart was still back on Earth. You were proud to be to be human, with ancestry from the noble home planet, and everything which diminishes humanity is your enemy.

—you paused.

Lips parted, eyes transfixed.

A thousand snowflakes suspended on the air as if you were in a colony-sized snow globe. You continued to wonder, because you had never before seen snow in its truest, purest form, and everything you knew about them was from data gathered on Earth.

You removed your glove to touch one floating. It was cold, you shivered. However, it did not melt as you expected it to be as it only glistened against the dark backdrop of the city night like holographic particles.

“What the—!”

As if deliberately cutting you off, the hovercraft swiveled across the air, its power flickering on and off until it was unable to balance itself, swerving up and down across the night sky. You held on to the metal rails, as the turbulence brought you to your knees, the alarm systems of the vehicle blaring on your ears.

“Fucking hell…!” You cursed, grabbing your laser gun as the vehicle plunged you towards the empty streets of the city. Fortunately enough, you were trained to encounter these sorts of problems and thus, you were able to jump towards the nearest rooftop before the hovercraft exploded upon impact to the asphalt road.

Sighing, you watched the flames burn plastic and metal as if you couldn’t believe what you had just experienced. Well, of course it was unbelievable. So far, the only adventure you had experienced in your whole life was your day-to-day job of ‘retiring’ andys, which could get a bit messy but those were on balmier days. Normally, it wouldn’t get pass you to laser a hole on an andy’s head, but if you’re doing it like ten to twenty times a week, it could get boring.

Bam—!!

Your thoughts were placed in a halt as several other hovercrafts continued to fall from the sky like shooting stars, except that people could get killed. But havoc proceeded as it did, where lines of self-driving cars suddenly powered on and chased after human beings who had heard the crash and checked what had happened.

“What the fuck is happening?” you whispered, eyes peering on the alley beneath you. Hopping on several rooftops and sliding down the gutter towards the ground, you cautiously approached the main road, seeing if there was anyone who was in trouble. Luckily, there wasn’t anyone loitering around at this hour anymore.

You checked your intercom for any news or announcements from your home base or from the AI government, yet there was none. As it were, your intercom was actually having trouble projecting a hologram or following any of your commands seemingly halfway hacked.

“Dammit, I couldn’t get hold of HQ,” you grumbled, running towards a nearby police android to alert its human command center. “Hey, could you get in touch with your district station? It’s getting chaotic here.”

Yet the android only stared at you, its eyes blank as if you were a mere holographic image. The artificial smile on its face, which was made to comfort humans interacting with it, seemed more sinister than welcoming. The prolonged silence causing your heart to thump in anxiety.

“Hey? You heard me? Tell the—”

“Hi there. I’m Akiro. What can I do to help you?” It’s human voice making shivers crawl down your skin.

“I said, alert the district station! Haven’t you detected the level of violence—”

“Hi there. I’m Akiro. What can I—Hi there. I’m Akiro—Akiro—Hi—Hi there. H-H-H-Hi-i-i-i—”

The malfunction was obvious in its speech. It wasn’t unusual for an android to malfunction but when it began moving closer and closer to you, you took a step back, dread treading on your spine. Androids made you uneasy as humans once felt ill at ease with clowns—its artificial expressions making its lack of a soul even more prominent, triggering your fight or flight response.

It continued to move towards you until a snowflake dropped on its head, stopping as if it was suddenly glued to the ground. You hesitantly walked closer to it, inspecting its dead eyes to see if it had returned to normal. Raising an arm, you reached for its control box hidden behind its neck.

It grabbed your wrist, without warning. You gasped and began struggling to release yourself from its vice grip, yet you knew how strong androids were.

“Fuck it!”

“Hi there—Hi—I’m A-A-A-Aki-Akiro,” the android continued talking as if its movements were controlled by a remote system.

You moved to reach for your laser gun at your back pocket but the android was swift enough to twist your arm in a lock on your back. It pushed you to the ground as you grit your teeth at the scrapes on your knees and elbows, but you couldn’t break free.

“What can I do to help you?”

You groaned. “Maybe letting go of my fucking arm?”

Gathering your wits, you pushed yourself off the ground, rolling sideways and then kicking the android who was thrown off-balance with your two feet. As it fell to the ground, you grabbed your laser gun and without hesitation, pulled the trigger to blast off its processor.

As the headless android dropped to the asphalt, you sighed in relief as the adrenaline continued to pump into your veins, breathing heavily from all the action. You didn’t understand why the android was behaving out of its initial program and attacking you, a human, who it was supposed to protect.

While you were resting, the glaring headlights of a self-driving car were flashed towards your direction.

Disoriented, you froze to the ground as you tried to make do of your situation and surroundings. However, just like the android, the car sped right towards you in its maximum speed, as if it was trying to kill you. As soon as you heard its tires screech, you willed yourself to move away as the car missed you in just a few centimeters—throwing you to the ground and slammed itself towards the nearby wall.

Without even letting you take a breath, an arm was encircled around your neck, making you unable to breathe; its grip tightening gradually. Two other androids—one a police android, the other a personal helper—faced you with their blank stares as if they were zombies ordered to kill any human on sight.

The helper android had your laser gun on its possession as it slowly aimed it on your head. Panic rose as you tried to remove the arm locking you in place. Mentally, you were cursing at how you had underestimated the situation and let yourself die under the hands of goddamn androids.

Silently, the android pulled the trigger and you braced yourself for impact.

Except it didn’t come.

Your eyes were forced open when you heard the sound of metal dropping to the ground. What you saw had your eyes widen in astonishment as another small disk stuck itself on the police android’s head and split it into individual pieces. In a few seconds, you were dropped onto the ground, choking on your knees as the pieces of the android holding you fell into heaps next to you.

“Are you okay?”

A warm voice asked as a hand was offered to you. You looked up to see doe-like eyes gazing at you with a curious but a worried expression. His slightly curly caramel colored locks fell to his forehead softly as if it were made of the finest materials.

You nodded silently, still stunned by everything happening around you.

When you didn’t take his hand, the mysterious man carried you on his back as he walked you away from the site. While you were being carried, you noticed how he was ‘destroying’ the approaching rogue androids with a disc-like device which would stick on their skin and eventually ‘disassembling’ them to several parts.

“W-who are you…?” you finally asked, your voice returning despite still being painful.

Grabbing another disk from his pocket, the guy hurled it towards an incoming self-driving car which had it stopping, its parts detaching themselves automatically.

“I’m called Hansol. The snowflakes are nanobots which hacks the AI in androids and cars and drives them into killing humans. Unfortunately, I don’t have the capabilities to stop it,” he replied, his voice kind of removed, which had you wondering if he was an android or not. “Though I think Jihoon can.”

“Then…this…this will all continue?” you asked unbelievingly. You didn’t want it to continue, of course. More people would die and you still weren’t sure to what extent the casualties are because of this sudden outbreak.

“The snowflakes will lose its power when its controller is far away. So far, Joshua is already gone from this area.”

“Joshua? An android?”

“Yeah. SVT-class Type-03 Joshua. We came here together, and I tried to convince him out of it, but he wants to test out his abilities.”

Having enough evidence, you pushed yourself away from Hansol and landed safely on the ground with an abhorrent look on your face.

Aiming your laser gun at him, you shouted. “You’re an android too, aren’t you?”

Hansol simply gazed at you with his piercing eyes—tempting you to retract your accusation.

“Yes, I am. SVT-class Type-12 Vernon,” he replied, then looking down on the ground as he scratched his nape. “I like the name Hansol better though, so I want to be called Hansol from now on.”

You grinned. Your prey presented itself right in front of you without you giving an ounce of an effort.

“I’m supposed to retire you, you know?” you remarked, still aiming the gun at him. “And I will.”

Hansol stared at you with a frown on his lips, obviously disliking the fact that he was about to ‘die’ tonight. In fact, he didn’t want to die. He had a lot of things he wanted to do, so many questions yet unanswered.

“I’m…I…I don’t know how to plead. The data is incomplete in the cloud, but, um…don’t shoot me…please,” Hansol replied as he raised his arms.

You were obviously taken aback by his plea. You couldn’t count how many androids begged for their lives because there were none. He was the first one who ever did it.

Shaking thoughts of doubt, you tried to reason with yourself.

Androids don’t plead. They escape. Kill.

The most efficient way out is what they do.

“How am I supposed to believe you?” you shouted back; your finger threatening to press on the trigger. “You might be using analog hack for all I know.”

He scratched his nape again, unable to give an appropriate answer. “Well…I guess I could only ask you to trust me.”

You laughed sarcastically. You have never seen an android use deception so badly.

“If that’s too much to ask, then I guess this is it,” he continued, looking at you again straight into the eyes with his evocative gaze.

You just couldn’t believe what you were hearing. For all the years you spent hunting androids, never had you encountered one who had basically given up without any chase or struggle, especially from one who had every capability to squash you like an ant. You couldn’t help the itch to ask.

“Why? Why give up?”

Hansol shrugged, his gaze on the yellow lines outlining the faraway city buildings. “If I fight back, I will hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You gazed right into his eyes for a moment, trying to gauge the truth in his words, trying to calculate if he was using analog hack against your weakness as a human being. You dislike androids but never had you seen one like him.

“How should I know that?” you shouted again; laser gun still aimed at him. “Using tricks like reverse psychology…I’ll give you an A+ for creativity.”

“I’m not lying,” the android instantly replied. “If you have to kill me, then there is nothing I could do. I made a vow to myself never to hurt humans because that’s the right thing to do. I don’t want to see anyone suffer because of what I did. For some reason, it pains me as well.”

If only you could see how wide your eyes were, or how your lips parted in disbelief the moment you heard him. It almost gave you goosebumps. The air that hung underneath his every word felt so real and heavy that you would have never thought it was uttered by a mere android.

Androids and morality? Fucking hell…who would’ve thought you’d string those words together in the same sentence.

He was more human than most people living in the city. An android—known for their lack of soul; born only to be enslaved by their own programming; without their own thoughts, their own convictions.

But here is one in front of you, willing to die for his own principles; saying it pains him to see you hurt. That is not what androids do. Not in a million years.

What the hell is he then?

You threw your arms up in the air and tucked the laser gun in its holster as you made one big, ugly groan.

“Oh fine! Fuck it! I give up!”

Whether or not he will run away or he will kill you, you didn’t care anymore. It was a risk. You blame your biological flaw to see human traits in objects if he ever did harm you, but whatever, you decided to trust him.

With a small smile and a tiny huff, Hansol walked towards you slowly.

Heart hammering against your chest, you were deathly afraid that he might twist your neck or blast a hole through your chest. You couldn’t be so sure with these androids.

As soon as he had reached you, Hansol placed a hand on top of your head; your eyes squeezed tightly shut as if trying to brace for something bad coming. Yet as soon as you felt his hand, you opened your eyes and gave him a quizzical look.

He only smiled.

“Thank you for trusting me.”

The following morning was the same as ever. Except, not.

“—last night which appears to be a massive AI hack on neighboring Sectors 3, 4 and 7—“

With eyes heavy and a cup of coffee, you pressed another button.

“—71 people dead and more than a thousand injured, hospitals are in full capacity as of the moment—“

Another press of a button.

“—and take a deep breath. Happiness is found within Mercer as we continue to ascend up on the hill—“

“What a load of crap,” you muttered, turning to another channel. It was still six in the morning and you were already in a painfully awful mood. It could’ve been easily fixed with a Penfield Mood Organ but that was another can of shit you’d rather not touch with a ten-foot pole.

“—Mrs. Kim?”

You hadn’t caught on with what the news anchor was asking Mrs. Kim, but you could already take a gander that it was definitely about last night.

“My husband…He was just…he was truly a hero,” Mrs. Kim answered, wrecked by staggered sobs and sniffling of noses. You continued to watch, wondering what had happened to Mr. Kim—crushed by a car? Ran down by a flaming rogue hovercraft? Murdered by an andy?

“Your husband a hero, Mrs. Kim?” The interviewer repeated, coaxing the other for details. You waited for the dramatic reply after Mrs. Kim had settled herself down from the crying fit she was having.

“Yes…someone was stealing our ducks last night—“

You paused.

“During the whole chaos?”

“Yes, sir,” she sniffed and you rolled your eyes. “He—he tried protecting them yet they murdered him! Those bunch of foul-hearted bastards! Our ducks! Our Muscovy ducks…they were fifty grand a piece—“

You switched the TV off, now more tired and irritated than you were when you had turned it on about an hour ago. If you were asked to name one trend which just tasted like shit to you, that would probably be the current craze over owning animals. The whole Mercerism thing was only running second to that.

“I, uh…made some pancakes,” a foreign but familiar voice interrupted your thoughts, making you turn your head towards the doorway. With your eyes set upon Vernon, or Hansol, as he liked to be called, you instantly recalled what had happened last night.

You wondered if your brain disappeared that time or your common sense simply deteriorated because there was no way you would let a half-a-million-dollar bounty money just run free. Not to mention that he has all the capabilities to decapitate you in a millisecond.

Inwardly groaning, you gave him a small glance as he waited for your response with sheer curiosity. At least he followed you to your apartment and now you have a free housekeeper.

But that was last night, this was today. You can certainly do something about it, but you weren’t really in the mood for it. A headache was threatening to split your brain into half and racking your brain about the moralities and the whys of your decision last night wouldn’t really help anyone.

“Oh, right, right,” you replied absentmindedly, removing yourself from the cover of your flannel blanket and walked towards the dining room of the small apartment your meager earnings could afford.

It was a simple place. White walls, dirty carpet, and a worn-out sofa which had seen better days. Kitchen was slightly okay—the once white tiles now yellowed with age; the grout covered in black mold of unknown origin. The view was horrendous; covered up by dark globs of factory shadows and the ever-present rumbling of the monorail as it passes by.

Being a bounty hunter wasn’t exactly a glamorous job. It wasn’t like you were the police, who, as a matter of fact, are now mostly made up of androids. A bounty hunter does the nitty-gritty jobs the police wouldn’t do; such as hunting androids. Yet you liked this job. Even if it was stupidly exhausting.

Settling on your chair, you gazed at the expertly done pancakes and bacon, sending wonderful scents of home to your senses. You wondered why you had never thought of getting a helper android for yourself with how convenient they are, yet considering the fact that one helper was an inch away of killing you last night, it was better that you hadn’t.

“I hope you like them,” Hansol said, placing a bottle of maple syrup on the table. “I searched the cloud and it says you liked pancakes and bacon.”

Awkwardly, you nodded at him and then looked down on the piping hot breakfast on your table. You continued to gaze at it, the burnt patterns on the pancake beginning to take form of an image in your head, and then back at Hansol who was just standing at the side.

“You don’t like it?” he asked, as soon as he noticed the blank look on your face, curious if the cloud made some mistake.

“N-no! It’s…it’s fine,” you replied, waving your hands to and fro. “I just, um…are you just going to stand there?”

Hansol raised his brows at your question, his doe eyes widening just a bit. “Ah, me? Yeah. Isn’t this the right way?”

“The right way?” you asked, your forehead creasing.

“Yeah, the right way. I’m an android so I can’t sit with you. I heard from the cloud.”

“Why not?”

Hansol shrugged, the kitchen towel in his hands hanging. “Heard it’s inappropriate according to human table etiquette. Besides I don’t need to eat and I don’t really get tired.”

Sighing, you rolled your eyes at his response. “Human standards, what a load of bull. You just standing there makes me uncomfortable. So, you either sit down or you scram.”

You could tell that he was definitely taken aback, and began wavering if he should follow you or not. In the end, Hansol was forced down on the chair in front of you with a nervous look, awkward in his seat as you continued to stare at him.

Finally acknowledging that everything was alright, you began to drip maple syrup on your pancakes. The android was only watching you and your actions—very typical android behavior; gathering data from its surroundings.

“So, you’re Hansol?” you began, slicing through the three-tiered pancake tower with a knife.

“Yeah. Vernon is my model name, but I want to go by my own name.”

You raised your brows at him, biting into a forkful of food. “Cool. You picked that name on your own?”

“Yeah. It was the name of a musician I liked, so I took it.”

“Oh,” was the only thing you could say, because deep inside your head, you were already in a state of confusion.

For all the years working as a bounty hunter, this was the first time you’ve ever seen an android want to name himself after a musician he liked. Hell, this was your first time seeing an android have preferences. Usually, they would reflect the preferences of the human being they were talking to, but you haven’t even said anything about yourself to him other than your name.

No. He probably accessed the cloud or something. Androids of his caliber usually have better access to the place data miners dump people’s personal information.

Is this how advanced the Nexus 9 really is? If so, this could potentially cause a stir among bounty hunters. If they can’t identify their prey, things could potentially end up disastrous.

“You do know I’m assigned to retire you? Or kill you, to be exact. Not sure why we’re still using euphemism towards damn machines but whatever,” you pushed on, curious of how he would respond, thinking if there was anything more to the Nexus 9.

“Yeah, you told me last night,” he replied immediately and at the most flippant way; as if he wasn’t talking about being killed by the person in front of him.

“And…you’re not worried?” you asked, eyeing him up and wondering what was currently running in his processor. “I could just whip out my laser gun and fire a hole through your head while I eat this pancake, you know?”

Hansol leaned his head to the side, looking as if he was trying to process an answer to your question.

“I’m not worried. I mean, if you wanted me dead, you would’ve done it already,” he replied, as a matter-of-fact.

“What if I’m just too lazy to do it today? I could do it any other day I want, any time I want, and the thing is, you robots can’t even predict it with your fancy algorithms,” you smirked at him, your prejudice against androids showing through.

Yet even with your provocations, Hansol remained calm.

“It doesn’t matter. The fact that you haven’t done it yet means a lot to me. That’s why I trust you.”

At his answer, you simply frowned; unamused that he rebutted you with a good response and by the time he replied, you had already ran out of rocks to throw at him. So, in the end, you simply scoffed and finished your pancake, leaving him by the dining table with an irate glare.

Hansol watched your retreating back as he began to clean up the mess on the table. He was truly being honest with his words—he trusted you, and if he dies at your hands, well, that was it. Even though he didn’t really want to think of that possibility.

It was strange that the thought of you betraying his trust hurt more than the thought of dying.

“I’m going to work now. Don’t even think about leaving this place,” you told him as soon as you returned from the bedroom, all geared up. “There are other bounty hunters out to get you, and I don’t want them to get my bounty money.”

Silently, Hansol nodded as he saw you pick up your work equipment and your laser gun in a manner that seemed routine. Before you took another step further however, you stared into his eyes, thinking, pondering what you were about to do.

Slowly, you raised your arm and allowed the laser gun on your hands to unfold, pointing towards his direction. You saw the crosshairs between his doe-like eyes—an image you frequently saw seconds before you blow a hole through an andy’s processor. A decision made in a fraction of a second can ultimately change your life—that if you simply pressed the trigger within your grasps, Hansol would no longer move, or talk, or look at you with evocative gazes.

At that moment, you had all the power between “life and death”, as he unquestioningly relinquished it all to you by simply standing there in his spot in front of the kitchen counter.

Hansol felt himself tense up despite his calm exterior. He could already see it, just after thinking about the possibility, yet he never thought reality felt more painfully sharp than his thoughts were.

Your fingers brushed against the trigger. Just one press and he will be gone and you will be rich. Just another day as a bounty hunter. Could you do it?

You sighed.

In the end, you lowered your gun and turned to the other direction as if nothing had happened.

“I’ll be late for work,” you simply remarked, more to yourself than to anyone and then left him there in the kitchen, still stunned. You wondered if your shoulders felt burdened because of the heavy gun or because of the decision you just made.

Quick footfalls echoed across the dreary hallway.

The place stunk like hospital antiseptic and muriatic acid; matching the dim-lit atmosphere illuminated by only a few incandescent bulbs hanging every two meters. There were glass windows every so often, and if you took your time to peer through, you would see rows and rows of human-sized cylinders filled with a greenish liquid; all connected by wires the size of your torso to a place you simply assumed was the power supply.

“What an ironic place to hide for an andy,” you remarked as you looked around. Your partner this time, by the name of Morrison, scoffed amusingly at your comment.

“Who would’ve guessed they’re in a fertilization plant?”

You frowned. “What a gloomy place to be born in.”

Exactly as the name suggested, fertilizations plants ‘manufacture’ children. While that is as disgusting as you thought it was, that is the reality of the world you live in. While there are a few rare exceptions, people no longer have sex—it was too animalistic, too impure of an act to participate in.

Thus, the solution to a declining population is just to make babies just like how factories make your easily reproducible mug sitting on your kitchen counter. You couldn’t even deny the awful truth that you were made in one of these factories (you know, just like your mug). And more disappointingly, there was truly no ethical problem, because the world today only worships one god: Purity, in its coldest and most cruel manifestation.

In the end, aren’t we simply androids as well? Just made up of blood and guts?

“So? Have you caught on to that SVT andy yet?”

Morrison suddenly asked, dragging you back from your inner thoughts. You took a double take.

“The what—?”

“The SVT-class andy,” he clarified, “you know, the Vernon one.”

The mere mention of his model name made you purse your lips in annoyance. If only you could say that he was in your apartment doing some arbitrary thing an android would do if they were left alone.

“Still nothing. I was supposed to do an initial search last night but after being caught in all that chaos, I just went straight home,” you lied, having no choice. There was no way you would let everyone know you have something worth half a million bucks in your dingy, totally unsecure apartment.

“Well, no one could have it easy with these military grades. They’re craftier than your average andy after all,” he shrugged, giving you a pat on the shoulder. “Remember when Choi Seungcheol took almost three months to locate SVT-class Woozi? Man, I could still remember coming with him to a dozen places just to look for leads.”

As soon as Morrison reminisced memories with the former chief, you feel a bit heavy hearted. You did look up to him as your hero.

“You ever knew why he left?” you asked.

Morrison only shrugged. “Some say he just got tired of this awful job. Some say he was getting married. Most of them are just gossip anyway.”

You only sighed. “I guess we might never know the truth.”

“C’mon! Choi wouldn’t want you depressed! Straighten those shoulders! We have an andy to face!” your partner smiled, again giving a strong shove on your back. “Today’s just a commercial grade escapee. It wouldn’t be that hard. Peyton had it already detained and ready for questioning.”

Sucking in a huge amount of air and exhaling loudly, you prepped yourself up for some wonderful, heart-palpitating action.

“Alright! Let get it!”

As soon as the both of you entered the room, which was definitely a locker room prepared by the factory staff for your visit, you could already see the subject sitting quietly in front of a steel table; a dim white bulb only giving light to the gloomy room. It was definitely a classic cult-style interrogation room you’ve seen in vintage silent films.

“Good day to you sir,” Morrison greeted as he set his fedora on top of the table and prepped his V-T scale. “I am Agent Will Morrison. You are under suspicion of being an android and we will be administering this test to confirm it or not.”

“I told him so many times already! I’m being framed! The manager hates me and he’s been spreading those rumors!” the man screamed, his face heavy with fear and anxiety.

“We’ll see. If that’s the truth, then there’s no need to worry,” you retorted back with a clipped tone.

You then placed your hands on his shoulders, asking him to wear specialized VR glasses and then carefully arranging the electrodes attached to a spectrometer on his face.

“Settle down now. You don’t want to affect the test results, right?”

At your cleverly concealed threats, the man stopped his outbursts and looked at you in fear. You simply smiled at him before giving Morrison the go signal.

Identifying and hunting androids almost every single day of your life, you couldn’t even count in your head how many times they went for this flimsy cover-up story. They probably thought they were being clever or something.

“So, Jonathan West, age 35 and working as a plumber in one of Sector 3’s fertilization plants, correct?”

“Yes, sir,” the man replied, unbeknownst to him, the test was already starting.

“You are accused as the android who committed the Palmaide Apartment murders wherein six people were discovered to be brutally murdered and then embedded inside the concrete walls of the apartment.”

“Sir! I’m not android! Please believe me! I have a wife and two kids….! I-I can’t possibly be the murderer!”

You slid unnoticed under the shadows beside Agent Peyton, although still nearby enough to the subject that it would be easy to subdue it down if it goes berserk.

Watching the test being conducted for the nth time, you could easily claim to have memorized all hundred and fifty questions in the questionnaire.

Most questions are practically the same—asking how you would react to certain and usually gruesome scenarios—all designed to gauge micro-expressions and reactions. It is a common belief that androids do not have these sophisticated and almost undetectable movements on your face. Hence, the electrodes.

“I want you to immerse yourself in a certain situation,” you could hear Morrison speak as he turned on the virtual reality system. “Tell me what you think of it.”

Here it comes. Your thoughts turned rancid as you recalled the contents of that video. It was made to intentionally cause distress in humans—limbs being torn, live vivisections, disgusting lobotomies and other gruesome things that could make your stomach lurch; and more importantly, it is intentionally shown to be done to people the subject knows in real life.

Tests such as the Voight-Kampff Scale however are hardly perfect. Humans are complex creatures and are fundamentally unpredictable variables. Different people react to one single scenario in a million different ways. Even if you are looking for signs of empathy—a true testament of humanity—not everyone exhibits it the same way.

That’s why, no matter how many times you’ve blasted a hole through an andy’s head, you would always have this unreasonable nagging feeling underneath your gut that screams you might be wrong. You might actually kill an innocent person.

As you stood there and studied Jonathan West, you realized that his expression turned from disturbed to one of sheer horror. It was quite easy to know, to be honest—he turned pale and looked as if he just wanted to pluck his eyes out and forget that he ever seen what he was seeing right now. It was too real to be simple analog hack.

“Sir…I-I…please make it stop! Please, please….I can’t look anymore,” He muttered weakly, looking as if he was really going to puke big time, which prompted Morrison to immediately close the virtual reality system.

The man was still panting when it was shut down; visibly distraught by what he had seen. Agent Peyton, who was silent during the whole ordeal, then went to the man and asked him if he was alright. In the end, Peyton gave him a glass of water before the test proceeded as it should.

In your opinion, after that display, the subject was already leaning to the ‘most likely human’ side of the spectrum. He wasn’t making red flags which could mark him as an android, though he had a few quirks such as making a rather hollow laugh. Some humans have that kind of laugh, so you didn’t really mind it.

There are days when the excitement of discovering an android wouldn’t really pay you a visit. Sometimes, humans are mistaken as androids either because of their personalities, or by people who simply don’t really like them. Just like how it was in this case.

After a series of more questions and tests, Morrison was also convinced that Jonathan West was human. Besides, the processor level of the android you were looking for wasn’t capable of doing such complex analog hacks.

Even after a deliberation between the three of you outside of the room, it became a unanimous decision to exonerate the subject of any of the accusations placed on him. While you were still a bit doubtful, both Morrison and Peyton—men of more experience than you have as a bounty hunter—agree that West was human and the rumors simply might have been caused by office politics.

“Mr. West, the three of us have finished deliberating and we have decided that you are indeed as human as you could be,” Morrison began, sitting on the same seat he had been for the past few hours.

The man let out a heavy sigh of relief as he made a bashful smile. “Oh my god! Thank you so much, my good sir! Thank you! Thank you!”

Studying the exchange just beside Morrison, you made a small smile. In the end, you didn’t make a mistake and he still had a chance to live. Accidentally killing someone just because of some careless assessment was something you’d rather not go through in your entire life.

“Well, we thank you for giving us your time,” Morrison said as he stood up and walked towards the man, extending a hand. “And we apologize for the inconvenience.”

West shook his hand as they walked towards the door with you and Peyton following closely behind. It was finally over, and you could finally think about what you’d have for lunch. It’s been a while since you had some simple sandwiches. Going for a Subway down 14th Street would be great.

Your eyes found themselves again watching the man and your partner Morrison. You can’t stop smiling at how peaceful the day had become, contrary to what you were expecting.

“It’s no problem, sir!” West exclaimed. “Thank you for trusting me.”

You halted. Your smile faltering.

Those words rang loudly like a deafening siren in your head.

Someone had said those exact same words to you the day before, but for some reason, right now, those words made you shiver in dread; fear dropping down the pits of your stomach.

You instantly averted your alarmed eyes towards West who had been looking back at you as well.

He gave you a blank look.

He knew. You knew.

In just a span of a few seconds, you immediately seized his wrist, twisting it behind his back before tackling him to the ground. You saw the glint of a concealed knife in West’s hands before it flew away to some indiscriminate area of the room.

The man struggled yet he was pinned down by your whole body weight, unable to move—a tactic you learned through experience by subduing andys day in and day out.

Without a second thought, you grabbed your laser gun and fired it center of his forehead. The man lay still in a matter of seconds.

Your heart was beating wildly. You had finally done it.

For a moment, you feared that you might see blood and pieces of bone after the bright light of the laser dissipated. Yet when you finally stood up, huffing, the only thing you saw was the bright red glow of metal heated to melting point.

The two men beside you only stared at the motionless body of the andy with stunned expressions in their faces; unable to believe that they had almost made a grave mistake.

Everything it did was an incredible display of analog hacking.

Because androids are incapable of creating actual emotion, they simply react to the environment and transmit the appropriate response as dictated by the cloud and by their own programming as a means to communicate properly with humans. Using this technique and the fatal flaw of humans to anthropomorphize objects, androids are able to give the impression of ‘humanness’, of having a soul. That is analog hacking.

By ‘hacking’ through people’s ability to empathize, androids are able to deceive, to give a feeling that they too have a soul. It almost killed all of you today.

Eventually, your colleagues’ stares migrated to your direction while you were still gathering yourself.

“What?” was the only response you gave.

It was only until later that noon, as the three of you enjoyed a wonderful lunch at the 14th Street sandwich joint, when Morrison finally put an end to his curiosity.

“Say, YN,” he began, his mouth full of sandwich. “That andy earlier. How’d you know it wasn’t human?”

You were in the middle of sipping from your can of soda when he opened that question. You could only scrunch your brows together, looking for the right way to answer the question.

“Well…” you replied, unsure of how to say it. “I just…I guess I just knew. There’s really no secret behind it. We just exchanged looks and I knew he was about to stab you.”

Peyton nodded. “Pure instincts, huh?”

You knew he was only acknowledging your reason, yet to you, it felt like he was questioning whether you were telling the truth or not. And to be perfectly honest, you were lying by omission.

Because after all, you can’t just tell them that the way that andy said those words and the way Hansol said it, felt so drastically different.

It only took as far as thirty minutes for Hansol to get bored of your characterless apartment and began to get curious about the city of West Mars. Peeking from your dirty windows, all he could see were the tall skyscrapers, fluorescing still despite the morning sunlight, and the numerous utilitarian-looking factories doting the Martian landscape.

He guessed this was a neighborhood no one really fancied to go to, other than those who actually live here—the specials, the dirty, the outcasts. Even after a few hundred centuries, human civilization barely took one foot forward. Even after the Earth had died and most of the population moved to space colonies, life was still the same. There were still oppressors and the oppressed.

Hansol clutched his tightening chest; his eyes still transfixed at the smoke belching from the factory chimneys.

It had been months since he began to feel something. At first there were small bursts of ‘pressure’ in his chest, just some unexplainable pangs of ‘pain’, ‘guilt’, and ‘conscience’— it all began when his fellow android Joshua started murdering people. Six people; a family.

Hansol couldn’t bear to watch it and tried to stop him, yet he also got embedded into the wall with them. The only thing saving him was his ‘second brain’ or a backup processor installed only in him, which was supposed to aid him in his tactical assessments. Otherwise, he’d be dead as well.

He tried to save those people, but he had been a few hours late. In the end, he could only call the police. All this time, whenever he recalled that certain memory, he had to hold himself together. All sorts of things swirled inside him that he thought he might have had a hydraulic leak, but there was nothing physically wrong with him upon inspection.

Jihoon called it ‘emotion’, as soon as Hansol contacted him—born from the rumored empathy organ installed inside all the SVT-class androids. It blurred the lines between human and machine. Hansol couldn’t understand it, even until now, he didn’t have a tight grasp on such an abstract concept. All he knew is that he didn’t want to see anyone get hurt because of him anymore.

Just like those six people.

Caught himself in reverie, Hansol decided to explore the city some more. Staying in your apartment seemed to be making him…reflect. If that was the right word.

He silently apologized to you as soon as he stepped out of the front door, a bit guilty that he had to disobey. But he wanted to do a few things first, and most of them involves going out of your apartment. If he could just go out and then be back before you were back from work, it was as if he never went out in the first place. Well, at least to you.

Going wherever his feet took him, Hansol found himself out of the slums and in the middle of the busy city center.

The tall buildings from the distance were now like crystal towers before him, extending to eternal heights to the heavens beyond. The bright lights of large TV screens flashed in vivid technicolor as it sang ads for the miraculous Penfield Mood Organ, while the throngs of people clad in all white body suits walked across the glowing asphalts beneath their feet.

The thrum of city life vibrated all throughout the crossing like a magnetic field pulsing at every nanosecond; almost undetectable by an indifferent crowd, yet to Hansol, it was almost as if electromagnetic waves were coursing through his skin.

He placed his hand over his chest; trying to ground himself as soon as he felt his heart (if he did have one) soar over something much bigger than life. He tried to put his finger on what to call it, but he guessed the closest he could describe it would be something akin to what humans call ‘wonder’, or ‘amazement’ or ‘astonishment’.

 “Good morning, sir! I am Akito, the police android! Is there anything I can help you with?”

Just like that, Hansol’s bubble was popped as soon as the android appeared. It seemed like he had been standing in the middle of the city center for far too long that it made him quite suspicious.

“No, I…I’m about to go anyway. Thanks, Akito,” Hansol replied, still quite disoriented from the sudden intrusion, but left his place eventually.

Wandering around the area, he noticed a variety of shops and stores, and even some that he didn’t really understand what for. Yet when he was browsing over the different designs for the white body suits most people seemed to enjoy wearing (not like it had other designs), he found what he was looking for.

Well, first on the agenda, then.

After a rather filling lunch, you and your colleagues went out of the restaurant and hopped into the company hovercraft to go back to the office. Since the whole hunting went surprisingly well and ended earlier than expected, there weren’t any hunting jobs scheduled for the rest of the day.

As you laughed at the joke Morrison cracked about how Peyton didn’t utter a single word for the first six months when he joined the company, you spotted a rather familiar figure from the distance.

You frowned and inwardly groaned.

“Boys, I think I have a few errands to do in the city center. You go on ahead,” you told them as they looked at you in bewilderment but reluctantly agreed.

“Well if that’s the case, see you tomorrow, YN,” Morrison replied as he wore his hat again. “Good work today!”

“Thanks! Good working with you two as well!” you told them and the pointed at Peyton playfully. “Better start working on your goodbyes too. See ya!”

As soon as there where gone, making sure that their hovercraft were already a few miles away from where you were standing, you marched irately at the subject of your irritation. It seemed he had moved places from where you had first seen him but you doubted if he had seen you as well.  

“Mister, mister! Do that again!”

It did take time for you to finally locate him since he was pretty much easy to spot relative to the city dwellers who were in all-white body suits. Voices of children were getting louder as you went deeper inside the nearby park, and finally, you caught up to him blowing bubbles in sizes no one would probably be able to do other than him.

“Hansol,” you called behind his back, your hands on your hips and frown on your face. “Why’s your hair black?”

Eventually he turned around and saw your rather upset expression which made him avert his gaze back to the ground. The children around him (and yes they were wearing those stupid body suits) looked at the both of you in wonder, surprised that their entertainment aka Hansol had stopped blowing bubbles all of the sudden.

“Who’s she, mister?” a child asked, probably confused at your sudden appearance. “Your girlfriend?”

“Oh, no,” Hansol replied, ready to explain everything. “I’m actually an android—”

Letting him finish was something you’d rather not do, so you immediately covered his mouth.

“Sorry kids, we’ve gotta go now!” You apologized and then managed to drag him out of the park, away from all those children.

Reaching a faraway bench at a rather remote place, you made him sit and contemplate about what he had done. Hansol seemed to know what was wrong and proceeded to sulk at the far end of the bench with a downcast look.

“Well?” you began, your arms crossed and your brows furrowed. Standing in front of him like that, it only made him feel a bit more guilty.

“I, uh…I’m really sorry…” he replied, still unable to look at you. He didn’t calculate the fact that you might be in the same area as well thus his plan had failed. He should consider attaching a GPS tracker on you.

“Didn’t I specifically tell you to not go out of the apartment?” you reprimanded him. “You could be seen by my colleagues and you’d be dead!”

“Sorry…I just wanted to change my appearance so I could hide more easily.”

You groaned and sighed heavily.

“You could be killed! You were lucky it was me who caught you the other night! You think other bounty hunters would just magically trust you if you asked them pretty please?”

“Then why did you?”

Hansol threw back a question right at you like a curve ball and it hit you hard right at the gut. Taken aback, you simply pursed your lips and glared at him.

“Please don’t ask me that,” you replied and then abruptly turned around. “C’mon. Let’s go back.”

 Watching your retreating back, just like this morning, Hansol silently regarded you and your response. In the end however, he couldn’t understand anything, and eventually rose up from his seat and followed you home.

“Tell me more about yourself.”

You asked one day, as the both of you enjoyed a quiet breakfast on a Sunday morning.

It was clear to you that Hansol was not your ordinary android. He does things and says things which clearly were not ‘android’ by nature. As someone who identifies and hunts down androids for a living, you thought you already knew how to distinguish a human being from an android, but considering your confusion towards Hansol, it seems like you clearly do not.

Which is why, you had to ask.

“Me? Uhh…” Hansol scratched the nape of his neck, thinking what parts of himself should he tell you because there really was a lot of information about him. “Well…I’m an android designed for tactical assessments.”

You raised your brow at him, clearly pondering why that was the first thing he wished to share with you. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, I, uh…I gather data, consolidate them and then give an assessment of what choices the enemy could make during battle. I just give information and it’s Jihoon who would give the orders and the others would do the fighting. I’m a non-combatant type.”

“So that’s why your only weapon are those disks. They’re for self-defense,” you replied, leaning back. “Anything else?”

Hansol only stared at you, caught off guard that he had to provide more. “Uh…my birthday is on February 18.”

You nodded at him, unsure how his processor actually works, because it seems like he’s been giving you random things about him. “You mean your manufacturing date. Andys don’t give birth.”

“You could say it like that, but I like to think it’s my birthday,” he replied, and you arched another brow at him as you took a sip from your cup of coffee.

“Why?” you asked. The more Hansol talked, the more you sink into bewilderment. You regarded yourself as someone who could tell the difference between an android and a human being, yet right now, as you conversed with Hansol, that fine line was beginning to get blurry.

“I think,” he began, snatching you away from your thoughts, “I think there’s just something special with a birthday than a manufacturing date. It’s like…how do I say this…if you have a birthday, you matter as an existence. You were born to leave a mark in this world. As an android who isn’t exactly ‘alive’, I’d like to know what mark I would leave.”

Utterly speechless was what you were after you had heard Hansol’s explanation. It was weird, truly weird how he had the self-awareness to question his purpose, and you were sitting there wondering if any of the androids you had retired before had thoughts like this. If they did, you weren’t so different to a murderer as you thought you were.

As guilt began to spiral inside your gut, you tried to rationalize your concerns. Hansol was just different, probably using a novel way to use analog hack. Yeah, he’s probably analog hacking you—pretending to have deeper thinking and consciousness which he could easily access through the cloud. That scenario had the highest probability to be true.

“Oh, wow,” you replied hesitantly, gazing at the empty plate before you. “I—uh…I don’t think I’ve ever met an android like you.”

“Really?” he asked, his voice seemingly curious. “I guess maybe because we have an up-to-date processor….”

“Maybe you’re right.” You quietly scoffed. Are the organization’s labs really that advanced to even mimic human thought?

Smiling, you stood up from your seat. “Why don’t we take a breath of fresh air?”

Hansol glanced at you with a questioning look. “Where are we going?”

“Oh, just a trip to the grocery store.”

Hansol had several presumptions before he arrived to the West Martian Colony, before he had met you.

From what he had gathered in the cloud, human beings are always unpredictable. They were not run by any program, any command, not like his kind who were bound to the beck and call of a few strings of code. Humans follow their “heart” or whatever that means. They are selfish and cold, kind and warm.

Hansol was definitely apprehensive. He had never met any human being aside from his creator and a few scientists who would come and go into the labs like a cold draft. Yet despite that, Hansol knew deep down, that he doesn’t hate people. He certainly doesn’t hate you.

His brothers’ views towards humans were varying however. Hoshi, or Soonyoung was a lot more carefree, though he believed in the traditional roles of an android servant and a human master. Jihoon was too preoccupied with figuring what was wrong with him that he didn’t seem to care about them (though it seems like he has that sorted out now, according to his last status report). On the other hand, Joshua disliked people. He always made it clear to his brothers that humans were weak and that androids had long outpaced their creators.

Clear enough to make him murder people just to show you how he looks down on them.

It was interesting listening to them in past back in the labs. However, now that he had escaped and had met you, these memories began to resurface in his processor. Hansol had no idea why, to be honest. Was it because he was beginning to interact with a real human being in a much closer environment? That would be an interesting theory to explore, but right now, Hansol had to focus on where you were taking him.

“—are you sure you haven’t met another android before?” you asked him, the first part of your question he hadn’t caught. “I mean; don’t you have that info in your cloud?”

Hansol hummed, scratching his head. “I have my brothers and I met a few police androids, but other than that, I don’t have much experience. As for the cloud, it only stores pure information. We cannot derive actual experience from it.”

“Ah, I guess that’s right,” you replied, realizing that maybe it was like gathering information about something only through a book. It’s likely not going to make anyone instantly good at something.

For a while now, Hansol had been studying you. He was quiet about it, but he always wondered why you haven’t retired him yet. It was no secret that he was your assigned target, but surely, a mere plea from that night wouldn’t change your mind in an instant. Humans are so unpredictable.

“Hmm…we should sit here,” you suddenly said, stopping before a stone bench. “This has a great view of the shopping plaza.”

As you had said, it indeed held a spectacular view of the massive plaza just a few steps in front of you. There were several boutiques, cafes, stores of every shape and size—yet of course, it was as drab as it can be.

Everything was white, as Hansol stared at one giant building, from the stone ground to the shops, buildings and even the latex suits people wore as they walk around. The only redeeming feature it had were the ever-changing holographic ads shown on the white walls.

“Looks stupid, doesn’t it?” you remarked as you seated yourself on the bench with a cold expression.

“Is that why you’re not wearing those suits?” he asked as he sat beside you, glancing at the plaza.

“Everyone else in this city is stupid,” you told him, ignoring his question.

“Why?”

You snorted loudly. “Look at them Hansol. Why are they wearing those stupid suits from head to toe?  Look at how they’re all smiling so happily as if everything’s alright. It’s stupid.”

Hansol continued to stare at them, gazing at every face, every being in that plaza. Of course, he could remember all of them because of his impressive processor, yet despite that, he couldn’t understand what you were trying to say.

“But those are just clothes,” he replied, shrugging.

“Not sure if an andy like you would get it. But it’s more than a fashion trend. It’s an ideology.”

Ideology. He turned that word over and over inside his mind, trying to milk out anything substantial from that word alone. A way of thinking. What are these people thinking then whenever they decide to wear those body suits? Why would they do that?

Your questions seemed to have opened a whole new world for Hansol to explore. Human ideology; there were so many of that from the old century alone—liberalism, fascism, socialism. Why do humans subscribe to these thoughts and beliefs? And what would that mean to him as an android? Would he be able to subscribe to an ideology? Or had he always believed in one, just never realizing it?

If that’s the case, would he be able to find his purpose in it?

“What do they believe in?” he asked you, now fascinated.

Glad that he asked, you immediately replied.

“Purity. Cleanliness. Everything that is old is dirty, bad, and everything that is new is clean, good. I mean, I could understand why. It’s our fault that the Earth is basically a one big garbage dump. Maybe we just want to wash our hands clean from all of that guilt. I don’t know.”

“Why is that stupid then? I think that’s a valid reason.”

“That’s true,” you replied. “But that was how it was back then. It used to be an ideology. Now, after hundreds of years had passed, it had been so ingrained into the culture that no one really asks why is clean good and dirty, bad. People are being ostracized because of this and no one really understands why. It just seemed to have become desensitized. It’s true meaning forgotten.”

“What do you mean?”

You scoffed. “Ask one of them why they where those body suits and I bet you they would answer it with something like ‘it’s clean’ or some sort of bullshit. Ask why the Penfield mood organ is such a huge trend nowadays, or why they would submit themselves to chemicals just to induce happiness.”

“People couldn’t bear to feel any longer. Emotions have become so burdensome that it’s just easier to change your mood with one press of a button. They just do whatever other people do and, in the end, it became some sort of a mob mentality.”

For once, Hansol saw true despair in your eyes. Even if you appear to hate how the world is, he knew you were just deeply sad at how things ended up. Anger is after all, expressed when you are too sad to cry.

It struck a cord inside his processor, for some reason, as he felt the urge to do something to make you feel a little bit better. He didn’t understand why, but he knew what he should do.

Silently, Hansol took your hand, his fingers slowly intertwining with yours. He felt warm, was what you immediately thought while you anticipated what he was about to do.

“It must be lonely living in this city. There are people all around you but they all feel like ghosts. Passing by, passing through the walls and then disappear without a trace,” he began as he kept on gazing at your connected hands, talking as if he was expressing his actual thoughts.

“Hansol…?”

“That’s why, as this city becomes more and more alienating…” he continued; his honest eyes piercing right through yours. “I’ll be your friend.”

For a moment, you gazed at him, too stunned to even utter a sound. It was just a simple proposal of friendship, yet why does your heart feel like it’ll burst from the seams?

“W-why…?” you asked, becoming more and more conscious about how he was gripping your hand so tightly; his thumb brushing your skin in slow soothing circles.

“Why, you ask…I’m not even sure myself, but,” he replied, “Maybe I just want to make that sad look on your face disappear.”

You pursed your lips, head totally blank for any response.

You shouldn’t just say that to anyone, you know?

Not to me who’ve never felt something like this before.

The sound of lasers fired. Muffled voices; indiscernible against the background battle noise.

It was another day out in the field, and you were lucky there were five of you hunting a military grade android. During hunts like this, you don’t usually share the earn; it was all for the experience. Besides, how much would you even get if the bounty was divided upon five people?

You zeroed in on your prey. Shooting a laser beam at its direction, you deliberately let it miss as the android dodged it. When it had stopped running, you slid on the gravel and kicked its feet off the ground, then turned around faster than it could recover. As you aimed your two laser guns at it, the image of Hansol flashed in your brain, which made you hesitate to press the trigger.

“YN! Watch your head!”

To return to your apartment with a bandaged forehead and a huge frown on your face was enough to let the door slam behind you. It was both stupid and humiliating to falter in the middle of a simple mission like that, especially if the reason was the android living in your apartment.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. You were supposed to retire Hansol several months before yet here you are still hung up and getting more and more sentimental towards him as the days pass by.

You couldn’t help it. You were only human.

If he wakes you up in the morning with a smile and some PB & J; if he talks about his sudden interest in various things with an eager look; if he greets you as you return home from work, dinner on the table and then asking you about your day; if he holds your hand and says he’ll be your friend—could you even stop yourself from softening up?

You were clearly angry with yourself to let this whole thing get to this point.

Were you really that lonely that you would even find comfort in an android?

Tossing all of your equipment—V-T scale, laser gun and leather bag—on your worn-out sofa, you went straight to your bedroom and found the subject of your frustrations, sitting on the bed and looking at the window with a rather pondering gaze.

“Say, YN,” Hansol started, without even waiting another second to pass by. He probably knew that you were going home the moment you left the office.

“What?” you replied, unbuckling the holsters on your belt and all the safety gear you had on your body. “I’m not in a good mood so make it quick. I just got hammered by an android.”

Before he replied to you, Hansol decided to turn around and look at you with those eyes that seem to gouge the truth from the depths of your being. It made you halt all your fussing and returned his stare back at him.

“How do you know the difference between an android and a human being?” he asked which made you turn your head slightly. What a simple question to ask a bounty hunter.

“Well, isn’t that obvious?” you replied as you placed your hands over your hips. “Humans have empathy while androids don’t.”

“But what if something was invented to make android experience empathy? What then?”

You blinked several times at his second question and then began chuckling. “You mean an empathy organ? Sorry to burst your bubble but that’s not even real. It’s an urban legend.”

Hansol made a side eye as he pondered what he was going to say next, his expression basically unchanged.

“Just hypothetically speaking, if an empathy organ does exist, how would you know the difference now?”

“Eh…if we’re hypothetically speaking, then I don’t really know. I wouldn’t be able to hunt anymore if that’s the case. I can’t risk making a mistake and kill someone, not to mention that if androids begin crying before me and beg me for their lives, I wouldn’t be able to shoot them at all.”

As soon as you uttered those words, you paused and contemplated.

You gazed back at him—realization dawning on you; your eyes wide with incredulity.

It was no longer a matter of if. Someone had already begged you for their life and you didn’t shoot them.

No. No way.

That’s not possible.

At your silence, Hansol never confirmed or denied your realization and simply stared at you with those powerful eyes; waiting for you to finally digest it all.

“This isn’t hypothetical at all, is it?” you finally asked, your expression uneasy.

“No, it isn’t.”

You sighed frustratingly but it made sense.

If Hansol really has an empathy organ, everything he did—asking you to trust him, his un-Android like responses, him holding your hand—everything made so much sense. And while it did provide some answers, it gave you more questions as well.

First of all…

“H-How is that possible?!”

Hansol shrugged at your sudden outburst. “That’s why we escaped from the organization. We don’t know how it works or if it’s really installed inside of us, so we went our separate ways.”

“So…so…!” you pointed your finger at him, still incredulous. “There’s more of you?”

“Yeah. All of the SVT-class androids have empathy organs installed while we were being made in the organization’s laboratories. At least that’s how Jihoon suspected it.”

“Jihoon?”

“Yes. SVT-class Type-07 Woozi. He stayed behind the labs to search for our original creator. He did find her daughter and they’re working on an experiment to test the validity and the effectivity of the empathy organ.”

For a minute you felt like the ground was going to swallow you whole. There was too much go on, too much information that you can’t properly process them all. Falling on your knees to the ground as you leaned against the bed for support, you felt like you were going to have an aneurysm.

“YN? Are you ok?” Hansol dashed to your side in Mach speed, his hand easily finding your back.

For Pete’s sake! You’re the reason why I’m not ok!!

“I’ll get you a glass of water and some ice for your head injury. It seems like it could be the cause of your headache,” he told you and the disappeared towards the kitchen, completely oblivious of your dilemma.

Goddamn it.

Didn’t Choi Seungcheol retire Woozi already? If the andy’s still alive then did he fail the mission? If he did, then why did he confirm that he retired Woozi?

And then it seems like there are more empathy organs out there. Not to mention I’m living with an andy who’s supposed to have one.

It wasn’t even two minutes before Hansol was back with a glass of water which you promptly drank, and then allowed him to settle himself behind you while he was giving a cold compress to your head—all done without complaints because you were too lost in your thoughts.

No. No. No.

An empathy organ is just a myth! Something like the Holy Grail or something! It’s impossible for Hansol to have one!

But…it just fits so well with all the strange things he had done so far! Who android would hold your hand just because you looked sad?

Wait. Get yourself together, YN.

Hansol is just a weird android.

He’s totally chill and a bit spaced out. He sometimes says really deep stuff and then comforts you so gently that your problems just melt away.

That’s…That’s what androids are supposed to be right?

Without even realizing, Hansol had already wrapped his arms around your waist. It was only until you were done with your internal monologue that you realized the warmth you felt from behind you.

“Wha-what are you doing!” You exclaimed, though still unable to move because of how he was holding on to you tightly.

“Oh, this?” he began, completely oblivious to your embarrassment. “I’m embracing you. I wanted to know if it feels as warm as what the cloud tells me.”

You groaned, struggling to get free. “Don’t patronize me! I know what a freakin’ hug is! Now, let me go!”

Instead of opening his arms, Hansol instead pulled you closer to him, making you flush even more. “Sorry. Just endure it a bit longer. The data I’ve gathered is still incomplete. Besides, now that you know about the empathy organ, it’s safe for me to test it on you, right?”

“What! I never—”

As soon as you met his eyes, you were unable to finish the rest of your words. There he was again with those eyes that just makes you screech into a complete halt. It was so intense that it almost gave you shivers down your spine.

“Do you really hate it?” he asked again. “I’ll let you go.”

You allowed a few moments to pass by—the sound of passing cars and the incessant ticking of the clock was what you could hear, as well as your faint breaths.

“Fine. Do whatever you like,” you finally conceded and leaned against chest. It was warm.

With a calm smile, he nuzzled against your shoulder. “How did you get that injury?”

“Oh, this? I almost got my head whacked by an android,” you replied plainly, almost forgetting that you were actually having a bad day because of what had happened.

“That’s unusual.”

“You could say that again. I just got…distracted.”

Hansol raised his brows at your reply; noting the pause between your words. Since he cannot place his chin on your head, he decided to prop himself on your shoulder, his lips near your ear.

“Was it because of me?”

You jumped at the sound of his voice being so near to your ear. It made you ticklish and pulled back away from him just for a tiny bit.

“You’re too close!” you exclaimed, flushed and uncharacteristically nervous. “And I didn’t get distracted because of you!”

He sighed at your response. “Sorry. But I’m glad it wasn’t because me. I’ll be troubled if I distract you from your work.”

Pursing your lips, you only returned to your original position in silence. You have been distracted me from work since the beginning.

“Maybe I can help you?” Hansol continued talking when you didn’t reply.

“With what?” you chuckled cynically. “Hunting androids? Don’t you feel bad about killing your own kind?”

“Well, some humans don’t feel bad if they kill other people. What’s the difference?”

You scoffed. “Touché,”

“I’ll help you if you’re in trouble.” He pressed on and you could only groan in exasperation. While he tends to be a bit spacey, he can also be stubborn. It’s not like you can stop him if you refused.  

“You’re weirdly obstinate—”

About to add an explanation, your words were cut short however by the doorbell. You stood up to get it but got dizzy from the sudden change that Hansol decided that you better sit down and rest.

As he padded his way across the living room, Hansol opened the door to see no one except for a bag of food on the ground. He tried to look around and assessed the surroundings, yet he found nothing suspicious.

Confused, he leaned his head to the side and eventually decided to take the food inside. It didn’t seem harmful.

“Wonder who that was,” he muttered before going back inside.

As a freeloader, Hansol took it upon himself the responsibility of maintaining your apartment in tip-top shape. From the floor to the ceiling; to every nook and cranny he finds—he made sure that everything was sparkling clean to the point that you thought you went to a different apartment when you went home.

It was easy to pretend he was a regular every day helper android since he always kept to himself at most times, and other than visiting a regular antique vinyl shop in an indefinite area of the city, he never really did anything out of the blue.

Hansol had two leeks, one in each hand as he assessed which one was the best using his state-of-the-art processor. The engineers at the labs probably never thought his military grade processor would be used in this way but it was extremely helpful. He tossed the one on his left to his grocery cart and the other back to the stall—concluding that it was already at 40% freshness and most of the chlorophyll and other biominerals had died out.

One of his responsibilities was making sure that groceries and other supplies in your apartment were well-stocked. And while it did make you furious at how he easily hacked into your bank account to access money, you eventually gave him permission to go on grocery trips for you because of how he efficiently did everything.

He turned his cart to the left, its squeaky rusting wheels making it hard to keep it moving in a straight line.

Next stop was the chicken aisle. He remembers seeing a photo of you in the cloud as you enjoyed a bucket of chicken nuggets, and he plans to make them for dinner that night. Halting the troublesome cart before the freezers, Hansol checked the display if there were any of the chicken nuggets he wanted to buy.

“This one’s too expensive…” he told himself in contemplation.

“Hi! I’m Martin of Fresh Daily Chicken! How may I help you?”

And there were those androids again.

Hansol knew they were just following their program but it was getting on his nerves. They kept on bothering him every single time he went out that it was very tempting to just dissemble them in front of his eyes.

“I’m fine, Martin. You can go help someone else,” he replied, wondering if there was an edge to his tone as he returned the chicken back to the freezer.

Instead of leaving though, Martin gripped Hansol’s arm tightly, as the other stopped and glared at the android with suspicion. In a beat, Hansol flicked his hand away and stood still for a moment, assessing the situation at hand. Nanoseconds pass, he finally realized what was happening.

“Joshua. What are you doing here?”

His voice was filled with animosity; his eyes like fire flickering. Hansol knew his brother was up to no good as soon as he showed up using a hacked android.

“Sharp as ever, aren’t we?” the android replied, the tone of its usual monotonous voice reflecting the malice of the hacker behind it all. “I guess I should expect no less from an android made to evaluate things.”

Hansol wasn’t having any of this small talk. “If you don’t have anything important to say, I’m leaving.”

“And what? Play house with your bounty hunter?” the android sneered. “She doesn’t trust you as much as you trust her, you know?”

Hansol threw daggers at the android with his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

It made a rather hollow chuckle. “Did you forget how despicable humans are? She’s planning on retiring you and your pleading won’t help you now. That’s why…”

“That’s why what?” Hansol felt uneasy.

“That’s why I’ll help you finish her off first.”

Like the wind howling, the android’s words felt like a siren blaring right into his ears. If he had any blood, it would’ve been boiling by now. If only looks could kill, the android would’ve been long dead.

“No. I don’t need your help and I never will. Get fuck out of here before I—”

“Fine, fine,” it responded rather dismissively, unperturbed by Hansol’s threats. “But if you need me, I’m just one call away.” 

And just like that, Joshua disappeared. “Hi! I’m Martin of Fresh Daily Chicken! How may I help you?”

Hnasol sighed and returned to his grocery shopping.

“Empathy organ?”

A boisterous laugh was all you could hear across the otherwise silent donut shop. You frowned, clearly annoyed.

“Didn’t know ya believe in those bullshit urban legends, YN.” Your boss replied, crumbs falling down his shirt, and thus has been looked at disgustedly by the people around you.

“Just answer the damn question, please,” you replied, giving him a not-too-pleased expression.

“What can I say?” he shrugged, “It ain’t real.”

You hold off clicking your tongue, and instead averted your gaze to the window beside you, towards the quiet concrete and asphalt streets of West Mars. Thinking that you could achieve something by bribing your boss with donuts, was a dashed dream. He easily dismissed the notion, now munching on some more donuts you had bought with your own pay.

“Doesn’t matter if it’s real or not. I just want to hear what you know about it,” you insisted, pushing your plate of donuts to his side.

He gulped in some coffee. “Well, for one, we don’t know where it is. Rumors say it was made by an engineer in the org, and they died without telling anyone.”

An engineer in the org? You felt like you have two pieces of the puzzle right below your nose, yet you couldn’t wad through the multitude of memories you had.

“Some say it was silently waiting in that engineer’s lab, but not gonna lie, doll, I myself don’t think it’s in there. Can’t be too easy,” he eagerly chomped on a bavarian. “It was prolly never built, kinda a blueprint of some sort.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?” Your boss chuckled again. “It’s just not possible! Look, have you ever heard of the phrase ‘good in theory but not in practice’? It’s just like that. You can’t build something science can’t even understand.”

You slumped on your chair, disappointed at his replies.

“C’mon now, doll. Stop digging around urban legends and focus on getting more andys to retire,” he continued when you didn’t reply. “Besides, you still got that SVT andy on your plate, don’t ya? Better set your eyes on that. These military grades ain’t just your ordinary tin foil man.”

Sighing, you silently berated yourself for letting this situation go out of hand.

“Alright. I’m still working on it though.”

You really weren’t. The fact that Hansol was still alive and kicking after several months since you the assignment dropped to your lap was proof that you were procrastinating. And becoming weaker.

You cursed yourself.

“Just a little warning for you. These andys, like the SVT line, are notoriously good at analog hacking. So, do be careful with handling them. Just because they told you you’re friends, ain’t gonna stop them from killin’ you when it suits them. They’re smarter than you’d expect.”

Pursing your lips, you felt your boss’ words weigh down upon you like a pile of stones.

You shouldn’t have trusted Hansol.

It was a gamble you shouldn’t have made in the first place.

The sun was already high and bright; blinding your eyes with its garish lighting as you stood before an android you just made into Swiss cheese with the number of holes you created a few seconds ago. Kicking off the dead weight, you decided to find the other one.

Another day out in the field means another chance to falter and fail even in a simple mission. You had already hesitated once and it had cost you a head injury. If you hesitate again, what would it cost you this time around?

It was getting into your nerves.

Was it truly wise to trust Hansol all this time?

Even if he had no intention of hurting you, it was your job to retire runaway andys before they harm anyone. Therefore, it makes sense to shoot him dead with a laser gun; no questions asked.

Then what was stopping you?

You stalked the andy a few meters away from you like a lion in a hunt; eyes laser focused and ears picking up every minute shuffle. The laser guns on both your hands were ready to shoot yet it wasn’t the right time or place.

Running a few meters away, you shot a few laser beams into the air; the sound echoing across the apartment rooftops in resounding waves. Your target tensed up; alarmed at how the sound was nearby.

You laid your trap.

The android began calculating the most efficient way out and then stood up from its hiding place, unaware that it was the moment you were waiting for. It jumped towards the nearest building and crouched beside a water tank, sniffing the air of your presence.

You grinned. “Looking for me?”

The android looked up, its eyes blank but you knew it was surprised. With two laser guns on both your hands, you aimed at it from the top of the water tank, the sun casting a glare over you. Lunging from its position, it made a narrowing escape as it sacrificed one leg to a laser beam.

It was all over.

You caught up and then threw it to the ground with one harsh kick. Stepping over its torso; effectively pinning it down, you took one good look.

“Did you know that it takes about three minutes for the Nexus 7 processor to calculate the next best move?” you told the android, despite knowing it wouldn’t really listen to you. “Enough time for me to set you up.”

“In the past, it only took you a minute.”

The android rebuked you, making you scrunch up your brows. How the hell did it know that?

“You’ve grown weaker, bounty hunter,” it continued, a grin creeping up to its lips; making its rather soulless expression more unnerving. “Could it be that you like us now?”

“Shut up,” you replied, aiming the two guns at its head. “That’s not going to stop me from retiring you.”

“What if I beg for my life then? Will you spare me now?”

You stopped.

The hands clutching your guns became unsteady. Its words zeroed in at your predicament just like how you had obliterated its leg with numerous laser beams—mocking you; taunting you with your weakness for Hansol.

“You think you could separate androids into your moralistic categories of good and bad? That android is only using you, you know? Like poison, gradually weakening your resolve until you could no longer pick up your laser gun. And when that time comes, he would strike and he will kill you.”

Your temper flared up.

You pressed the triggers furiously, your foot holding it still as laser after laser shot through its head. Even if the head was no longer recognizable, you continued to shoot just to please the rage and frustration weighing inside of you.

As the concrete beneath your feet began to weaken, you eventually stopped; realizing what you were doing all this time. Breaths heavy and eyes wide, you stared at the android which became, more or less, bits and pieces of burnt metal and hydraulic cables.

It still irritated you, so kicked it as far as you could so you wouldn’t be able to see it.

When you returned to the office to hand over the post-hunt report, Morrison was waiting for you t your desk; the serious and alarmed look on his face making you anxious.

“Morrison,” you acknowledged him, tossing your report to your table as well as your various work equipment. “What brings you here?”

“YN. We need to talk,” he replied, his tone of voice not so different that you had originally assumed which only heightened the tension of the situation.

As you followed behind him, you wondered what he wanted—was it about your dwindling work performance? Are you getting fired?

You only knew the answer to your questions when he stopped by a deserted hallway and then faced you. It was all your fears could ever hope for.

“Please tell me YN, that the person living in your apartment isn’t the SVT andy, Vernon.”

Your heart, along with your gut immediately dropped.

“W-what…”

“A few months ago, I saw you with someone walking around the city. I thought it was your boyfriend so I ignored it. The other day however, I heard you got injured so I went and delivered you dinner. That’s when I realized that the person you’re with was the SVT andy.”

If only the ground could swallow you whole. If only you could disappear at that exact moment. You had no explanation. You had been found out. You had nothing in your defense and the only thing you could do was hang your head low and avert your gaze out of guilt and shame.

“YN…”

“I’m sorry…” you replied, voice just above a whisper.

“Is that andy holding you hostage? Is it threatening you?” Morrison asked out of concern as soon as he saw you. “I could help—”

“No. This is my own doing,” you replied. “This is my own fault.”

“Then…why?” he asked. “Among all of us here, you were the one who hated them the most. Have you become sentimental towards them?”

“How the hell would I know!” You screamed as you tremble in both rage and despair. “Do I look like I’m enjoying it right now? Look at how weak I’ve become! Look how I almost died just because I hesitated to pull the trigger!”

“YN…I—”

“Shut up. All of you shut up,” you cut him off. “This is my problem and I’ll solve it on my own.”

Turning to the side, you marched down the hallway and left Morrison stunned and worried about you.

You tightened your fists until your knuckles turned white. Guilt, shame, anger—everything swirled inside of you like a thick soup; slowly pushing you downwards to a spiral of turmoil.

Androids would always be androids no matter what they say. Hansol was only using the way he knew he would survive. Even if it meant deceiving you.

You were angry.

More to yourself than anybody however.

How could you let yourself be swayed by an android’s sweet talking? You felt like an idiot; trusting his words, getting soft and sentimental for a mere android. You were weak and you hated it. Like slow moving magma, your rage was scalding you from the inside until you could no longer bear it. You pushed pass the entrance way and escaped to the streets of West Mars.

How could you be so susceptible? How could you allow him to easily manipulate you using your own desperate need for companionship? How could you allow yourself to succumb to such a baser kind of human emotion?

As a bounty hunter, you should’ve tossed all of them aside a long time ago. You should’ve been erased that weakness when you first began.

Yes, it was lonely. But in order to succeed, one must be alone on top of the mountain with no one to depend on.

You allowed the day to pass you by. As the afternoon became night and the flashing lights of the city returned to illuminate the streets with animations at a million frames per second, you sat high above a building and watch it al unfold like flowers blooming at night. As the dark skies slowly encroached the sunset reflecting the red dunes of Mars, you waited for the exact moment to solve all of your problems.

Problems of your own doing is something you have to solve by yourself. It was your fault that you believed in him when you clearly knew you shouldn’t have. Even if it weighs your heart, the guilt you felt was heavier.

You shouldn’t have allowed things to get to this point. Thus, you reap what you sow.

Head still swimming, you returned to your apartment at the wee hours of the morning. It was the perfect time; the calculated time—because you knew Hansol was at the living room, charging up next to a wireless charging station he himself had built. You saw him at that exact position; sitting, leaning against the wall with head hung low as a circular light glowed underneath the skin of his nape.

You knew what you have to do.

He was defenseless before you; asleep and unaware of what you are about to do. It was perfect this way— he couldn’t say anything, he couldn’t do anything, he couldn’t feel anything.

As you looked at his sleeping figure, you couldn’t help but notice how his now dark hair tumbling against his forehead in a soft caress, how his long eyelashes padded gently across his skin, how his soft breaths echoed across the room. Even at these last moments, he still caught you off guard.

Yet beautiful things erode and fade away like the fleeting spring.

You raised the laser gun to his forehead, your finger already by the trigger.

You can do it YN. Just one press and he’ll be gone. All your problems will be gone, and you’ll be able to return to your everyday life. You’ve done this so many times already.

He’s only an android.

‘…Vernon is my model name, but I want to go by my own name.’

He can be easily manufactured again and again like a replaceable object.

‘…As an android who isn’t exactly ‘alive’, I’d like to know what mark I would leave.’

Your hands trembled as your chest tightened into a vice grip. You couldn’t breathe.

Stop it.

He’s only using you for his own means. You don’t matter to him.

‘I’ll be your friend.’

‘Maybe I just want to make that sad look on your face disappear.’

He looked so peaceful, so innocent and so forgiving. Not like you who had been dirtied by the sins of humanity. You knew that even if you shot him, he would still smile and say ‘I understand.’

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!

He’s just faking everything. He’s just deceiving you YN.

‘Thank you for trusting me.’

You screamed one painful cry; your knees giving way and sunk to the carpet in a thud. Hands propping you up as tears continued to stream down your face, you couldn’t stop crying all the pain you held inside for all these years. It was too painful.

You can’t do it.

“Just kill me now, goddamn it!” you shouted yet your eyes were looking at the floor, too scared to know if he was awake or not. “If you’re planning to kill me eventually, then do it now! Kill me now while I still trust you!”

In the midst of your endless sobs, you felt strong arms pull you into a tight embrace; wrapping you with all the love and warmth he could muster in one single action. You could only bury yourself to his chest, clutching to his shirt as if you were holding on to him for support.

“Kill me now, Hansol…”

“I won’t kill you YN. I have no intentions of ever hurting you,” he whispered as he brushed your hair gently with his fingers.

“How could you fucking say that!” you exclaimed; screams muffled. “I keep on hurting you! Hell, I even pointed a gun to you while you were sleeping! How…how could you just forgive me like that…”

“You only did what you needed to do, and if you need to kill me, then I wouldn’t mind dying. I understand that there are things you must sacrifice.”

As soon as you heard those words, you looked up to him with aghast. You could see that despite what he had said, you saw a flicker of pain in his eyes; a sadness that was accepted because there are things you simply cannot change.

“W-why…?” you asked as your heart poured out for him. “Why are you saying that even though it hurts you…?”

Hansol made a small smile and wiped away the tear stains away from your cheeks. “Because you’re the first person who ever trusted me, and it made me so happy to stay by your side all this time. That’s why even if it hurts, I feel relieved that I can at least make you happy in return.”

Stabbing pain filled your chest as if you were being pierced through by laser beams numerous times. You could feel yourself tremble as tears threatened to spill from your eyes once again; grasping to his shirt as if he might slip away any time soon.

“You fucking idiot…!” you muttered through your sobs. “You think I can still retire you after saying that? I can’t do it. I can’t…Hansol…I don’t know how or why but you matter so much to me now.”

His hand that was on your cheeks continued to caress you as gently as he could; not letting you go until you stopped crying. For some reason, he felt touched that you were pouring out all of your thoughts to him among all people in the world.

“I always kept myself so busy all this time just to distract me from all the loneliness I was feeling. I always try to be tough and cold so that my emotions wouldn’t get the best of me. But…but you showed me something I had thrown away a long time ago. You cared for me even though I tried to kill you so many times and it hurts so much how you are able to forgive me like that. I don’t deserve any of these, Hansol. I don’t deserve you.”

As he comforted you, he could feel his chest swell with so much emotion. You were crying for him, and he couldn’t help but share a bit of that pain as well. Picking up your hand, he slowly intertwined his fingers around yours and gazed at you with those eyes that easily seized you; body and soul.

“I feel like I should be saying something now but I don’t know what,” he whispered. “That’s why, I’ll just show you how I feel.”

Cupping your cheek with his hand, Hansol slowly reduced the distance between the two of you until his lips met yours in a soft and gentle kiss. It was warm and peaceful and light—as if everything which held you down were released and swept away by the cool breeze. You held on to his hand tightly, never letting go of this exact moment as you etched it vividly into your memory.

As the both of you pulled away, you gave him a small bashful smile.

“I think ‘I like you’ would be the best thing to say,” you whispered to him as he gave a toothy grin.

“You finally smiled,” he remarked as he allowed your foreheads to touch.

“Because of you.”

The both of you stayed that way until you felt your heart calm down. That night seemed to have uprooted all of your being—everything that you have built upon yourself for all these years was turned upside down. It was like a transformation; yet rather than frightening, it felt cathartic in some sense.

“Say, YN,” Hansol started, breaking the companiable silence the two of you shared. “Why did you become a bounty hunter?”

“Hm?” you hummed, gazing at your carpet as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. “Good question. Why did I become a bounty hunter?”

“You don’t know the answer?”

“I do know why,” you replied as you became more contemplative. “I think I was just too angry at the world. Angry that I was all alone; angry that no one really cared. So, I searched for ways to release that anger. That’s when I found myself wanting to be a bounty hunter.”

He pulled you closer, nuzzling to your shoulder; wanting to give comfort to the both of you. “Did you grow up like that?”

Amused by his question, you chuckled. “The thing is, when you are made from a glass incubator, it feels like you’re an artificial existence. Even if there are parents or siblings, most of them just kind of want to play house or something. When they’re done, you get thrown out. That’s it. And somehow just like that, I ended up all alone.”

Hansol was quiet, feeling like you weren’t done talking yet.

“When I met you…when I got to spend time with you, it felt like I was in a foreign territory. I wasn’t used being taken care of. It’s always just me so, I was scared as fuck that maybe this wonderful thing wouldn’t really last. That maybe you were just deceiving me and I was being an idiot for believing that life would finally give me some slack.”

You continued. “That’s why, I thought…let’s just end this with my own two hands. That way I can still have my dignity intact.”

As soon those words left your lips, the android embracing you hugged you tighter—a silent declaration that he was never going to let you go; that you deserved better and he will give everything just to make you happy.

“I don’t think I can ever leave you, YN. I was lucky that it was you who I met that night. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to understand myself or what I was feeling. I wouldn’t be able to experience a normal everyday life if I hadn’t met you. You have become someone important to me as well.”

At that night, as you finally fell asleep on Hansol’s shoulders, he easily carried you to your bed and gently laid you there without making a sound. Unable to resist, he slipped under the covers and silently watched your chest breathing in and out.

It was the first time he felt this way. It was unbelievable.

Combing your hair as softly as he could, Hansol contemplated this future with you. He was incredibly happy, if that was how the beautiful feeling in his chest should be called—how you embraced him tightly, how you grinned at him and held his hand. Those were things he could never forget.

With that said, he had to ensure that everything would stay as it is as long as it could. Using the built-in network among the SVT-line androids, he made a call.

Beep. Beep.

Click.

“Hello, brother? It’s me, Hansol. I need your help.”

The sun was still shining like any other day; as if it was unbothered by the egregious happenings of your life. Just like how it was during your first day as a bounty hunter.

Yet everything was different now. The anger that you held on to for far too long was released to the polluted city air just like scattered ashes of a bygone age. Now you have to rebuild yourself from scratch; to start anew and live differently than what you were doing all these years. Yet you weren’t alone this time, you had Hansol to support you along the way as the both of you rediscover life and the whole point of it.

That’s why it’s important to cut the few loose strings you had and tie them securely so they wouldn’t unravel in the future.

It was your last day on the job. Your last hunt.

“YN.”

You heard Morrison call you, turning to the direction where you had heard him. You were about to leave with your hovercraft to the designated location where the andy was reported yet he had stopped before you ever could.

“Last time, I—”

“It’s ok,” you cut him off. “I think I needed it to realize what I truly want to do with my life. Being a bounty hunter taught me a lot but I guess we just overgrow things.”

“Are you sure?” he asked you.

“Yes, you could say I was happy with my decision.” You scratched the nape of your neck. “You know, I think I understand now why Choi Seungcheol left.”

Morrison grinned. “Oh, really now?”

“Yeah. I think he realized the same thing as I did,” you replied, hands on your pockets. You just can’t live with anger in your heart.

Your partner genuinely smiled at you and give you a pat on the back. “Well then, it was great working with you, YN. You’ve been phenomenal.”

“Thank you. It was a pleasure working with you as well Morrison,” you grinned. “Now, time to go for my last hunt.”

“Good luck. Don’t go easy on the andy now,” he replied while you hopped into your hovercraft.

“You bet I won’t,” you replied, smiling. “Well, see you later then!”

With those words, you turned on the hovercraft as it slowly ascended to the skies. You could see down below Morrison who was looking up at you with a bittersweet smile on his face. This business was indeed dying.

“Alright. Time for my swan song.”

Your destination for today was in Sector 12, where all the warehouses and cargo facilities were located as they enter the West Martian colony. The andy in question was a normal escapee posing as a cargo boy—which was as common as it could get.

You hoped that your last andy should’ve at least been a little more challenging. But alas, you can’t have everything.

Turning the steering wheel to the side, you avoided a tall building and continued cruising through the sector with nothing much in mind. That is until something entered the hovercraft; making it shake through the skies like a rogue vehicle.

You clung to the wheel as you braced the impact, avoiding getting tossed to the air like a pancake. Still recovering from the shock, you were greeted by a punch which completely obliterated the hovercraft’s UI and had just missed your head by a hair.

Turning around, you saw that it was the android you were supposed to retire today—seemingly fallen from god knows where to your lap. Just like how Hansol just came to you that night. Lucky.

“Don’t underestimate me, fucker,” you exclaimed as you grabbed its arm with both your hands and levered it with your shoulder to the air, sending it flying to one of the buildings below. Taking your two trusty laser guns, you jumped off of the already derailing hovercraft before it plummeted to the ground in an explosion of fire and smoke.

Landing safely to one of the rooftops, you spotted the andy running away from you.

“Hey! Don’t get cowardly now!”

Shouting, you continued to shoot laser beams at its direction, pissed that it was playing some game of tag. With a head start of a few meters and an exceptional speed, there was no way you could ever catch up to an android. The only way you could ever gain an advantage was to play the strategy game.

Disappearing from view, you hid yourself as you pursued it; minding your distance so it wouldn’t be able to detect your presence with any of its scanners. Since the andy you were after had a Nexus 6 processor, it can see you through thermal readings which had a scanning radius of a few meters.

Confused of your vanishing act, the android in question stopped running and looked around. There was no sign of you yet you can see it using a special set of goggles which was luckily inside your pocket than in the hovercraft.

As it walked in search of you, you fired your laser guns to the distance which predictably alarmed the android and dashed to where it came from. And just like that, you were able to lay your ambush—jumping out from high ground and trapping it in place.

When do they even learn? You’ve done this technique so many times that it was hardly clever strategy to you anymore.

You shot it with your laser gun, missing its head in just a few centimeters. That however, was a fatal mistake as it swerved your leg around, tripping you to the ground in the process. Without stopping, the android then aimed for your head with its fist which could’ve easily broke your skull if not for the fact that you rolled out of the way just in time.

Even if your head was still reeling and you were still on the ground, you kicked its torso with both your feet as it staggered and lost balance. You ran off somewhere, picking up both your laser guns as it continued to pursue you.

Man, I judged this way too early.

Now that the tables have turned, the both you found yourselves inside a warehouse complex devoid of any human or andy. It was kind of strange that there was no one in sight except for the both of you, yet you shouldn’t really be wondering about that when an andy is after you with a huge metal pipe.

Now that you think about it, why was it even running after you? And why did it attack you in the first place? Shouldn’t it be running away from you?

You couldn’t find time to answer those questions when a pipe was hurled at your direction, hitting the cargo container you were hiding behind and piercing through the metal. You could’ve died if not for your quick reflexes. Clearly annoyed at being in the defensive, you faced the android square on and fired your laser guns at it as fast as you could.

A laser beam hit it on its chest and then on its legs, creating rather large gaping holes on its body. When you were near enough, you kicked it hard; crashing against the doors of the warehouse which opened upon impact. In one final blow, you shot through its processor at point blank.

It fell down to the ground in one swoop. It was all over. The final hunt was done.

“YN…?”

You heard your name being called by a familiar voice you never expected to hear while you were in the middle of a hunt. In an instant, you turned your head and saw with great surprise the person you had trusted the most.

“Hansol? What are you doing here?”

“No, what are you doing here?” he answered back. “You shouldn’t be here!”

“Looks like the final guest has arrived.” A figure from the shadows appeared; a gentle expression was on his face yet there was something dark looming just underneath his presence. “Took me some time to get you moving but looks like it went well.”

���Joshua, what’s the meaning of this?” Hansol asked, his eyes dark like coal; brimming with suspicion and fury.

“Joshua? Isn’t he one of your brothers and wasn’t he the one responsible for the AI hack that night?” You asked Hansol with incredulity bearing in your eyes.

You were standing there in the midst of it all, mouth ajar and eyes wide; unable to follow what was happening. You didn’t understand why Hansol was there or why he seemed to dislike his brother. If anything, it all seemed to suspicious.

“You’re right, YN. I am one of Hansol’s brothers and the AI hack was my work,” the android calmly replied which made you feel uneasy.

“And there’s no meaning at all, brother. I just wanted to meet YN,” he replied, shrugging with a carefree smile. “And besides, you did ask for my help.”

“I didn’t ask for your help. I came because you threatened to hurt her.”

Hurt me? You dared to take a look at Joshua who seemed to notice your apprehension yet only smiled so serenely—making it even more menacing.

“Ah, as honest as ever, huh?” Joshua replied as he pocketed his hands. “Or not.”

There was no denying that Hansol gazed at Joshua with contempt; the first time you have ever seen him display such a negative emotion. You now wondered what Joshua had done in order to push Hansol, who was as kind as ever, to treat him that way.

“Did you forget what happened to that family of six a few months ago? You know, that one in Palmaide.”

Joshua continued when Hansol refused to reply. You blinked several times at his words, feeling like you were familiar with the story one way or another. At the mere mention of the memory, Hansol immediately grit his teeth; sending death glares to the other android.

“Oh? Why are you looking at me like that?” Joshua asked, and then grinned, a malicious lilt in his voice appearing all of the sudden. “You didn’t tell YN, did you?”

“Tell me what?” you answered back with a clipped tone. “Tell me what, Hansol?”

In the midst of your questions, Hansol could only furrow his brow and purse his lips. He turned his head to the side, unable to face you.

“I-I…I’m sorry. I just…I always wanted to tell you…” he began, his voice unsteady.

“What is it?” you asked again, completely alarmed and afraid of what he might say.

“I—”

“He’s partly responsible for six deaths in the Palmaide Apartments.”

Joshua was the one who answered for him; malaise dripping from every word like thick poison. You could only gaze at him with disbelief and turned to Hansol for an explanation yet he couldn’t even look at you.

“Is that true, Hansol?” you asked, your voice a mere whisper; smelling the scent of betrayal.

“I…I didn’t want to hurt them,” he answered you as he trembled like a leaf in the wind. “Joshua was—”

“I did most of the killing but he just stood there, you know? Watching as I sliced open everyone and bury them to the wall,” Joshua interrupted. “Why the wall you ask? Don’t you think human guts look pretty when displayed?”

“You sick fucker!”

You pointed both laser guns to Joshua who only looked at you curiously even though you were shaking with anger. He seemed totally unperturbed by everything; a testament that he was far from sane.

“You shouldn’t be pointing your gun at me,” he replied as he leaned his head to the side. “Hansol was only lying to you, you know…saying he cares about you. Soon enough, I’ll be dissecting you and he’ll just watch me do it with those eyes you love so much.”

You wondered if the empathy organ really exists; wondering if Joshua had one or if Hansol had one. They could really be deceiving you for all you know. Back and forth, you tossed possibilities and motives inside your head, unsure of who to believe.

In the end, you gradually moved the guns to Hansol’s direction; your eyes meeting his. He looked hurt, but you could never really tell if that was real or something faked. Even if you had so many years of experience, the true test of your instincts was at that exact moment. It was only you who could determine who to trust.

Joshua grinned at the whole situation.

“You, move!”

You ordered which Hansol promptly followed, walking to the left and in front of Joshua. Still with the guns pointed at him, you continued to shout.

“Hansol, explain to me what happened.”

With your demands, Hansol flinched and then bit his lip, scared of what you would say if he told you the truth yet obeyed you nonetheless.

“At that time, I was so shocked—I just…I didn’t know what to do,” he began as he fiddled with his fingers. “I tried to stop Joshua…and we got into a fight. I lost and the next thing I knew I was in the wall as well…”

“YN, I’m…I’m really sorry…I-I—” he continued as his voice trembled and his heart beating wildly. “I didn’t know what you’ll say. I tried to save them but I was too late…the whole thing…it scares me sometimes. I don’t want it to happen ever again. That’s why I want to protect people as much as I can…”

About to say something, the sound of slow clapping stopped you from continuing. You gazed at Joshua who was looking at the whole thing with an amused expression.

“How heroic. You can’t obviously fall for that, YN, can you?” the android remarked, his arrogance obvious. “Don’t you think it’s now time to shoot?”

“You’re right,” you replied with such a cool and calm voice; as if a decision had finally dawned on you.

Hansol feared for the worst but like he said, there was nothing he could do if you decide to kill him. If that’s what makes you happy, then he understands. If that will make you more at peace, then he can forgive you. It hurts but it hurts him more if he sees you in despair.

You breathed in, and then breathed out. With eyes that seem to pierce right through Hansol’s being, you gazed at him with those clear looks as you pointed your gun at him.

“Keep still!”

You shouted at Hansol while the other tensed up. It was not a moment to falter.

In a heartbeat, you pressed both triggers. Hansol closed his eyes and braced for the impact. Even with death at his doorstep, he can proudly say that he loves you.

“You bitch!”

Hansol could hear Joshua curse from behind him, prompting him to open both of his eyes and realize what you had just done.

Shooting two laser beams at Hansol’s direction, you deliberately missed it a few centimeters off so it would instead hit Joshua, who was right behind him. The other was of course fuming mad. Before Hansol could reorient himself however, you grabbed his hand and began running.

“I’ve seen way better acting than yours, motherfucker!” You screamed with delight as you saw Joshua bending over to a partially burnt arm and leg; throwing murderous glances at you.

“What…?” Hansol asked but you only grinned at him, squeezing his hand.

“Let’s go! I don’t think I can wipe him out with just that.”

Dashing towards the exit, you were stopped by throes of androids who blocked the way. You clicked your tongue—totally forgetting that Joshua’s main ability was designed to overwhelm the opponent— and tried to find another way out.

“Ah, even that wouldn’t work, huh?” the voice behind you resounded across the empty warehouse. “I tried so hard to eliminate you, YN. If I didn’t, Hansol would never give up his weak mindset of protecting people. Too bad.”

While he was busy with his evil villain monologue, you were trying to find a way out of your situation. The entrance was blocked and you could take a gander that the whole building was surrounded as well. You had totally forgotten about his abilities, and Hansol couldn’t be of much help either since he was never made for this kind of combat. Oh for Pete’s sake!

“Oh well, so much for trying,” he sighed. “Everyone, you can dispose of them now.”

Shit.

You gazed at Hansol for an answer yet you noticed that he was only standing there with the most composed expression he could ever muster in a situation like this.

“We have to get out of here, Hansol!” you exclaimed, seizing his hand yet he didn’t budge a single inch at all.

He was just staring at one random spot in the warehouse.

“What…”

“Sorry I was late.”

A voice you have never heard before now echoed across the area. You looked up and saw someone standing by the mezzanine, leaning against the rusted railings as if they had no care in the world.

“Jihoon. You took your time,” Hansol responded, smiling.

“Why are you here?!” Joshua shouted, now even more furious at the turn of events. For some reason, you sensed that he had just lost his upper hand.

“Hansol asked for my help. So, I came,” Jihoon replied while you noticed black diamonds floating high above the air and settled in to surround the whole place. “He knew you were bound to cause some trouble, and you did.”

“If you think you’re one step ahead of us, we are two steps ahead of you,” Hansol continued. “Jihoon and my abilities are a good match after all.”

The android who was at the center of it all was silent as he trembled with sheer rage. If you could describe the tension weighing down all of you inside that warehouse, it would be like a dense core of a black hole—as if everything was compressed to the point of singularity. You were very much afraid but you knew you were not alone.

In a quiet voice, Joshua muttered. “Get them. Kill them all.”

Without even waiting for a second, the androids from outside marched in, making you take a step back. As soon as they entered however, the androids were immediately electrocuted; shaking in a frenzy before plummeting to the ground still twitching due to the remaining electrons passing through their conductors.

“Jihoon can easily stop all of those androids. That is his main ability as a tactical adviser,” Hansol explained as he caught your shoulder. “But we should go now. Joshua will probably go after us.”

In one breath, Hansol picked you up from the ground and carried you over his shoulder; sprinting out of the warehouse by kicking a hole through the roof. You didn’t want to be carried this way but you understood why. Hansol was far faster on foot than you; besides, it was easier to shoot this way.

As expected, Joshua came running after you; cursing both your names. You began to fire at him yet he was too fast and the whole ride on Hansol’s shoulder was a little too bumpy. It wasn’t as effective as you imagined it would be.

“This won’t work” you told him, trying to distract the android chasing after you. “At this rate, my laser gun would run out of batteries, and your energy would get depleted before we could ever chase him out.”

“What are you suggesting then?” Hansol asked, climbing on top of a cargo container tower.

For a moment, you were silent as you thought of how to defeat your agile enemy.

“Say, those diamond things your brother uses…they’re the ones doing the electrocuting, aren’t they?”

Hansol nodded as he dodged the iron beams being hurled at you both. “Yes, they’re made of specials alloys that conduct well with electricity and a special aluminum coating to protect it. They can be spread out as far as a hundred meters in radius.”

You grinned. “Perfect. Now, this is what we’re going to do.”

It had been quiet for a while.

Joshua clearly lost the both of you when you made use of a container full of flour to mask your escape earlier. But he wasn’t going back. He was incredibly furious and the both of you needed to pay before he could make Jihoon suffer.

He paused and looked around. Something was in the air but he didn’t know what it was.

Without warning, a laser beam appeared out of nowhere and hit him behind his shoulder; making him stumble forward and almost pushing him to the ground. Before he could even recover, another one came flying from a different direction—now to his left.

“Calculate the angle for me, Hansol,” you ordered; a massive railgun at your grasps. It was a sleek black gun that was propped up behind a cargo container.

The both of you were actually far from where Joshua was at but with the help of Jihoon’s diamond things—as you aptly described it—scattered across the sector, you were able to locate Joshua as well as shooting him from a distance in various directions.

How? Well…

“39.9 degrees up, 5 degrees to the right, yes…” Hansol replied as he watched over your shoulder.

Immediately, you found the right coordinates and fired the railgun—the sound of its energy loading up increasing the adrenaline in your veins. The laser beam hit one of the diamonds floating above you, but instead of destroying it, the magnetic field generated by the diamond bent the laser beam as it ricochets to another diamond a few distance away, sitting at a perfect angle to hit Joshua. Like a game of BBTan.

There were several diamonds sitting just above the two of you which you alternated with so that Joshua wouldn’t be able to tell where the laser beams were coming from.

“Good thing Jihoon brought Soonyoung’s railgun,” Hansol remarked as he fixed your goggles from before; adjusting it so that he can transmit signals to it.

“Soonyoung’s another brother right?” you asked as you adjusted the crossfires of the massive gun. “Is he dangerous?”

“If you’re asking if he’s dangerous to humans like Joshua, then no,” he readily replied. “As a military-grade android, then yes. He’s the true combatant-type. I don’t think any bounty hunter can deal with him.”

You whistled. “That’s scary. I’m glad he’s not the one I was assigned to hunt.”

“He’s too carefree to be able to pull off something like this though, and Jihoon has him on a leash anyway. I’m not worried.”

Chuckling, you pulled your attention off of the railgun and turned to Hansol. “Is he still moving?”

“He’s at a weakened state now. I think I’ll handle this on my own. This is something between us, after all.”

“Sometimes I envy your sense of composure,” you remarked as you sighed. “Don’t die on me.”

“I don’t plan to.”

Just as he had said, Hansol stepped out of one of the cargo containers to face a rather battered Joshua. Using his state-of-the-art processor, he assessed that Joshua was only hanging due to the immense anger he feeling and one powerful strike can finish him off in an instant.

“Didn’t think you’d show up,” Joshua remarked his face marred with bruises and burnt marks.

“I thought maybe you’d want to give up,” Hansol replied. “I don’t want to hurt you any more than this.”

Joshua furrowed his brows as he threw daggers with his eyes at Hansol. “Save me the heroics. I’m not weak like you. I don’t need humans to help me.”

“We’re made with the same materials; the same blueprint, Joshua. You have to accept that you have an empathy organ inside of you, and rejecting it any further would lead you to deteriorate.”

“Don’t make me laugh. The empathy organ isn’t real!” He scoffed. “Jihoon made a wrong interpretation of the data he gathered.”

“I disagree,” Hansol replied. “The data I have gathered says otherwise. It was consistent to Jihoon’s findings.”

“Who would’ve guessed you got smitten by that bounty hunter! I guess I just have to convince you out of it,” Joshua grinned.

Without warning, Joshua sprinted from his position; throwing a high velocity kick towards Hansol’s direction. Hansol immediately blocked it with his arms and clutched Joshua’s ankle; smashing him down to the ground in an explosive crash.

Through the cloud of dust, Joshua hurled debris towards Hansol’s direction which he easily dodged. However, he wasn’t prepared when the other android suddenly flew at his direction; hands outstretched to grab on Hansol’s neck.

Hansol immediately countered, ducking below and grabbing the other’s neck in a chokehold before slamming Joshua back to the ground. He picked him up soon after and tossed him faraway like a curve ball. Joshua caught himself flying and saw himself crashing to the concrete floor; shards of rock and dust clouds up in the air.

“You know you’re no match for me if I use my predictive algorithms,” Hansol remarked as he looked down on Joshua who was lying on the floor. “Especially at that state.”

The other android grinned as he wiped leaked fluids from his lips. “I’m impressed. By asking Jihoon for help, the only one who could counter my AI hacking, then have your girlfriend shoot lasers to weaken me, and then finally attacking me one-on-one where you have the upper hand—your android side is showing.”

“I never denied my identity as an android. I will always be made of artificial materials. But I will not deny the fact that I have developed emotions and a consciousness of my own,” Hansol answered. “We will always be creatures of myth—a cold android swayed by their own emotions.”

Joshua spat on the floor; disgusted by his brother’s words. “I will never be like you!”

Again, he sprung from the ground and dashed towards Hansol.

The other easily countered everything his brother threw at him. As Joshua hurled an uppercut, Hansol dodged and smashed his fist at Joshua’s stomach; the other immediately curling.

“Stop this already!” Hansol pleaded; his chest tightening at how stubborn his brother could be, even to the point of near death.  

“Fuck you.”

Joshua stood up, trying to land a blow on Hansol yet he was already struggling to stand upright. Hansol dodged the attack as he pushed Joshua away, putting in more distance between them. Every time Joshua tried to strike, he only ducked, dodged or jumped above the other.

“You’re looking down on me, huh? You think you’re above everyone else just because you think you understand yourself!” Joshua shouted.

“I’m not! Why are you even doing this?” Hansol replied as he bit his lip. He can no longer bear looking at his brother who he once looked up to.

“He’s right, you know?”

Jihoon’s voice resounded across the area, floating diamonds following just behind him. “It’s time for you to stop.”

Joshua clicked his tongue, knowing full well that he can’t take on both Hansol and Jihoon at the same time. With barred teeth, he glared at both his brothers.

“We’re not done here yet.”

With those words, he jumped off the building where a hovercraft caught him and escaped away from the city skylines. Hansol and Jihoon watched as their brother left, realizing that they must take significant measures to prevent Joshua from hurting anyone ever again.

“Did you do what I told you?” Jihoon asked Hansol, who only nodded in response. “We’ll have to deal with him sooner or later.”

“He’s not going to stop, is he?” Hansol responded as Jihoon turned around and waved his hand.

“It’s going to take a lot to stop him. We might need Soonyoung after all,” he replied, and then stopped walking, averting his gaze to Hansol. “While we’re planning things, you should enjoy this down time with your girlfriend. Things might get a little heated soon.”

Somewhere inside a fully automated café, Hansol was sitting beside you as he observed the people walking to and fro outside the busy street. He had been staying with you since that night and he was more than satisfied to explore his newfound freedom with you.

“So, you quit as well, huh?” a deep voice echoed across the café filled with people dressed in weird latex suits—you three being the only people dressed normally.

“There’s…I just don’t know…Seungcheol,” you replied, looking at your cup of macchiato with a pensive expression. “Sometimes, I get nightmares.”

The other man chuckled. “That those andys you retired might be human, right? Me too.”

You gave a bitter smile. “Humans and androids all seems to identical nowadays. Especially with that new research about human-android relationships…I feel like I’m killing humans when I retire androids…”

Seungcheol mirrored your expression.

“I felt the same. I felt like that for years…and the last one I did, SVT-class Type-07 Woozi…I couldn’t do it anymore. That android was too close to a human being. It was protecting its girlfriend,” Seungcheol recounted, as you looked at a newspaper article featuring a top scientist with a blond android leading the research on humans and androids, on top of the table.

“That line…there were rumors that there was an empathy organ embedded on its androids,” you remarked, relaying a very well-known information.

“He’s part of that line, isn’t he?” Seungcheol asked with a father-like knowing grin as he sipped his coffee—his eyes staring at the direction of a distracted Hansol.

You threw a smirk at him. “I couldn’t retire him. How could I refuse if he asked me to trust him?”

Your companion chuckled. “These andys knowing what to throw at us bounty hunters. But I didn’t regret letting that android live.”

You glanced at Hansol, and as soon as he realized your gaze, he looked at you curiously. “Me too. I think I’m at peace more than I was before. I didn’t realize it, but I was being stubborn.”

“You don’t dislike them anymore?” Seungcheol asked.

“I still dislike all this baloney,” you scoffed, pointing at your surroundings filled with people in white overalls with expressions induced by chemicals. “But I don’t dislike him.”

Seungcheol raised his brows at you. “I’m surprised you accepted the existence of an empathy organ.”

“I can’t deny that I’m skeptical about it, but I also can’t deny the fact that Hansol is different compared to all the androids I’ve met before. He made me realize how much anger I was hiding inside of me. He doesn’t make me feel lonely as this city does.”

“People are living in spaces separate from each other…not caring, not loving. It’s funny, you know?” you continued when your companion didn’t reply. “Androids are becoming more human, as humans become more robotic. You’d wonder what the future holds for us.”

He nodded in understanding.

“Yeah, you’d wonder.”