Jinyue returned to his ship and sealed the hatch behind him. Salvage came next. He laid the scavenged parts out in neat rows. Capacitors. Wiring. A half-cracked panel he could still repurpose. He sorted without thinking, hands moving on memory alone. The work steadied him. Each object went where it belonged.
Cody sorted the salvage in silence. He was still angry with Jinyue for his choice of leaving the stranger alone.
Once the work was done, he was ready to settle for the night. He stripped off the outer layers first. Fabric stiff with dust and dried acid came away in practised motions. He cleaned his hands, then his tail, then the shallow nicks along his forearms. Nothing worth noting. He changed into worn clothes that smelled faintly of his natural scent and home.
The rest of the day passed without disturbance. Jinyue cooked. Ate. Checked the perimeter sensors. He thought of the wreck once, briefly, while sealing a storage crate. The thought passed. The planet swallowed many things. People were not special.
He slept.
The next day, the sensors chimed.
Jinyue opened his eyes at once.
Two heat signatures. Familiar shapes. One he recognised. One new.
Annoyance settled into his chest, slow and heavy.
"They followed," Cody said.
"Yes," Jinyue replied.
"We wasted the whole day."
Jinyue groaned in response while wholeheartedly agreeing with Cody's sentiments. He dressed and armed himself without hurry, then wore his mask. By the time he stepped outside, they were already waiting at a distance he had not granted.
The stranger…Mark (clearly a fake name), as he named himself, stood where the sand flattened into stone. He looked worse. Paler. Slower. His posture held, but effort showed in the set of his shoulders.
Jinyue stopped a few paces away. He did not invite him closer, instead he chose to ask a question as he looked around for other possible intruders, "What do you want?"
"I did not bring anyone," Mark said in quick return seemingly to placate him. "I did not lead anything here."
Silence stretched.
Jinyue did not answer at once. He looked at him instead. The exhaustion still clung to him. Less sharp than before, but deeper now. The kind that seeps into bone.
"You tracked me," Jinyue said.
"Yes."
"You followed the wrong trail."
"Yes."
"You still came."
His mouth tightened. "I had no other option."
"That was also true yesterday," Jinyue said. "You stayed."
He opened his mouth, then closed it before choosing what he had to say very carefully,
"We tried to signal for rescue. We failed."
Jinyue exhaled slowly through his nose. It seemed he was as stuck as he was. Jinyue could only hope they were important enough figures in the army for rescue, so they would leave him alone.
"I already helped you," Jinyue said.
"You saved us from the insects," Mark replied. "We are grateful for that."
"That was enough."
'Mark' took a step forward despite himself. He carried a soft tone this time, almost as if talking to a child. "They might die."
Jinyue's gaze snapped to him. He could feel exhaustion and disbelief bubbling within himself. What is he playing at with this soft approach?
"Then you should prepare for that," Jinyue said.
'Mark' hesitated. That alone answered enough. After some time, he answered,
"We are prepared," he said. "That does not mean we stop trying."
Jinyue turned away, ready to take several steps toward the ship, already done with the conversation. He never claimed to be a saint, nor was he some hero with a bleeding heart. If, for some reason, the crew and Mark got better, he'd immediately be at a disadvantage. A lone male zerg, isolated, exposed. Strength or not, numbers always mattered.
He also couldn't deny Mark's strength; based on looks alone, he knew how easily he'd be subdued. Additionally, with how close his heat period was, who's to say his powers wouldn't malfunction and leave him defenceless?
'Mark' did not follow. Instead, he did something else, knelt and bowed. Maybe he thought that would do something and touch his pride as a male…it didn't. The kneeling just made him short-circuit.
Jinyue stopped.
He did not like how much the choice weighed on him. He did not like that the stranger's presence lingered in his thoughts even now. He did not like how easily old teachings pressed against him through another's eyes. He liked his quiet. He liked his distance. He liked that nothing demanded him.
He also remembered the sound of insects tearing into metal.
"Don't do that," Jinyue said.
'Mark's head lifted at once. "I am not submitting," he said quickly. "I am only asking… if you want me to beg, I will."
Jinyue felt his pulse spike. He stared at the stranger intently; his statement seemed true. For all the grovelling and soft, polite speech since they met, his eyes only held a sense of respect and intrigue. None of the excessive emotions Cody always described coming from female zergs to males was seen. Cody's information might just be outdated after all.
He let the quiet stretch as he withheld a sigh. Wind dragged sand across the ground between them. The ship loomed behind him, solid and unmoving. He thought of the insects. Of spread. Of risk. He thought of how they had found him anyway. Annoyance settled into a decision.
"Stand," Jinyue said.
He complied immediately.
"State exactly what you need," Jinyue said.
Mark's breath left him in a rush.
"Medical supplies," He said. "Knowledge. Anything that could stabilise them long enough for rescue."
"For some reason, you just assume I have these things lying around."
"You live here," Mark replied boldly. "That alone suggests resources."
Jinyue exhaled slowly. The tone in his voice was tinged with exasperation as he answered.
"I am not a medic," he said.
"I know."
"This is not a sanctuary. I'm not a refugee camp for soldiers"
"I know."
Those one-statement answers irked him; it was funny how irritating they felt from the receiving end, but that didn't mean he'd stop that, though.
"You will leave afterwards."
"Yes."
The certainty in Mark's voice surprised him.
"You will not return," Jinyue said.
Mark held his gaze. "I swear it."
"Take me to them,"
Relief seemed to take over all of Mark's features. Odd how Jinyue could pick it up, considering how stone-faced the man seemed.
In the end, practicality won. Jinyue could only accept the zerg's pleas. After all, the sooner his crew gets better, the sooner they leave him alone. However, a nagging feeling in the back of his head couldn't help but comment on how much of a bad idea engaging with them would be.
*******
The rover cut across the sand in a clean, straight line.
It moved faster than Kaerin expected. The terrain blurred at the edges, stone and scrap flattening into streaks of colour. The zerg drove without commentary, one hand steady on the controls, posture relaxed but alert. The robot, on the other hand, stood braced at the rear, optics sweeping the horizon in steady intervals.
Kaerin sat rigid, hands locked together between his knees.
He did not speak.
He watched the male instead.
He said nothing. He did not ask questions. He did not glance back to check on him, yet was fully alert. The mask hid his face completely, pale hair tucked away, body covered in layers that revealed little beyond height and shape. Lean. Narrow through the waist and shoulders. Built for movement…what an odd male zerg.
Kaerin swallowed.
They reached the crash site faster than expected.
The wreck still bled smoke from its split hull. Plates lay scattered like shed skin. The sand around it had been churned by insects and boots and panic. The smell hit first. Oil. Burnt metal. Blood, old and new.
Someone stood guard.
Verrik turned at the sound of the rover and froze.
His eyes locked onto the male zerg.
"Oh," Verrik breathed.
Kaerin felt the moment collapse into disaster. He could only hope that Verrik didn't chase away their supposed saviour so soon with his overenthusiasm.
"So you didn't hallucinate,"
Kaerin gave him a pointed look, thoroughly unimpressed. Of all the conclusions Verrik could have reached, that was the one he chose to voice. Verrik didn't even give Kaerin a chance to react before moving forward at once, hands lifting, voice softening into something reverent and alarmed all at once.
"Are you all right, Your Exellency" he asked, voice warm and earnest. "Did anything follow you. You should not be walking around alone like this. It is not safe for someone like you."
Kaerin watched the pause with interest. A fraction of a second where the male weighed his options. Correct the address. Reject the concern. Or end the interaction as fast as possible.
He chose silence.
Smart, Kaerin thought. He would have done the same.
Then, Verrik leaned closer, gaze flicking over Jinyue from head to toe, lingering with concern rather than scrutiny. "You must be exhausted. That kind of isolation does things to males. You should sit. Here. I can make space, your excellency."
He reached out.
The male's tail flicked sharply behind him. Kaerin caught it at once. There it was. The rest of the male's expression stayed cold. Still. Masked. But the tail betrayed the spike of discomfort like a flare in the dark. Young, Kaerin mused at the anomaly. Oruntrained.
The Verrik's hand closed around Jinyue's forearm. The reaction was instant and violent.
The male wrenched himself free with a sharp jerk, stumbling back a step as if struck. His breath hitched, short and shallow. His hand hovered near his weapon before he forced it down.
"Do not," he said.
The word came out clipped and thin.
Verrik froze, eyes wide. "I only wanted to help. I am sorry. I did not think."
No, Kaerin thought flatly. You never do. Kaerin moved in at once, placing himself between them.
"That was inappropriate," he said flatly. "You crossed a boundary."
Verrik recoiled, thoroughly scolded, shoulders slumping. "You are right. You are always right, Your Excellency. Completely right. I should have asked. I should not have assumed."
Kaerin couldn't help but sigh. Verrik's worship of male zergs had always unsettled him. The way reverence slid into fixation. The way respect blurred into entitlement disguised as care. Seeing it turned on this particular male made his skin crawl. He could only imagine how it felt to receive it.
Verrik bowed his head toward the male, posture exaggerated, almost eager. "I apologise. I accept whatever correction you deem fit."
Correction…
Kaerin bit back a sigh, already planning on interrupting the situation but held back. He still needed to observe and catalogue the stranger, even if the person wanted to help.
The male stared at Verrik as if he had spoken in another language. His fingers curled once, tight enough to show strain even through gloves. His tail lashed again before he forced it still. Kaerin watched the effort it took.
Any other male would already be preening, already calculating how far he could push this devotion. Most would enjoy it. Male zergs were masochists by nature, attention-starved and eager to be indulged. This one, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to disappear.
He had not been in contact with others for some time, it seemed. Kaerin could see it now. The shock ran deeper than irritation. It had gone straight to instinct, bypassing reason.
"Do not touch me again," the male said. His voice had steadied, but his body had not fully caught up.
Verrik nodded at once. "Of course. Never again. Your Excellency."
He stayed too close anyway.
The male shifted back another step.
Verrik mirrored him, smiling nervously, trying to be reassuring and failing spectacularly. Kaerin caught himself watching the masked male with interest. He still had no face, no name, nothing to anchor him to expectation. Cold voice. Controlled movements. A tail that refused to behave.
Amusing.
Intriguing.
Dangerous.
The male turned his attention away from the Verrik, seemingly done with the conversation, and toward the wreck. "Where are the injured?"
Kaerin allowed himself a thin, private smile.
Yes. Very dangerous indeed.