"I don't trust that pretty male,"
"So you agree his excellency is pretty"
"Seriously," Mantis said as his face crunched in disgust. Such an ass kisser. "That's what you have to say about all of this?"
"You have to admit it, though." Verrik finally glanced over, all cheerful and chirpy. "When was the last time you saw a zerg from the snow leopard clan? Besides, they never had white hair, either."
Mantis wanted to retort, but Verrik was already rolling forward with more ammunition.
"Also, I heard the first statement just fine, asshole. He's suspicious, but what do you expect from a male zerg who seems to be in isolation for a long time? Everyone has secrets. Do you think he'd view us as his knights with shining armour to save him after crashing into his life and demanding help, think you idiot!"
Mantis wanted to retort against those obvious observations from his colleague to add more, but he was on a roll.
"You are just being your usual hypocritical and paranoid self," Verrik continued, his tone taking on that condescending edge that made Mantis's claws dig into the armrest. "You've always hated male zergs more than Kaerin…which is crazy by the way. Now faced with a unique male, you can't handle it? You haven't even been grateful that he offered us shelter and helped heal Kinsley. Or is Kinsley the only thing you worry about, you lovesi…"
"Don't drag Kinsley into this!"
"Sheesh! Sorry," Verrik held up a hand placatingly. He definitely wasn't sorry for saying the truth, and they both knew that. They also both knew he was telling the truth to some extent.
Mantis looked away, focusing on the road ahead with more intensity than necessary. The wastelands stretched endlessly, rocky and barren, the sky a sickly blue-grey. He could feel Verrik's gaze on him, that infuriating attention that came with being second-in-command to someone like Kaerin. Verrik was irritatingly good at reading people.
The problem was, Verrik was right, and that made everything worse.
Ever since they'd arrived on Xinex, then crashed on the trash heap of a planet, consequently meeting that male zerg, everything had tilted sideways in ways Mantis couldn't quite articulate. For one, a male zerg strong enough to survive alone in a desert with no civilisation…that shouldn't be possible. The Zerg ought to be bat shit crazy by then…he wasn't. If anything, that whole shy act of his seemed scheming and outright dangerous.
Everyone knew how much male zergs needed companionship. It was a biological fact. Yet this one had endured years alone; without the kind of mental deterioration that should have followed.
Suspicious. Absolutely Suspicious.
Then there was the way Kaerin had become absolutely fixated on him. Information gathering, Kaerin had said, 'neutral observation'…as if! Who wakes up from a fainting spell just asking for one specific person?
Mantis wasn't blind. He could read the shift in his commander's attention, the way those red eyes tracked the male's movements with something that went beyond tactical assessment. He hated males just as much as him if not more. What changed?
And Kinsley…
No. He couldn't think about that right now. Couldn't let Verrik see how close those jabs were.
The male had a heavy hand in healing Kinsley. That was... that was something. That mattered. But it was also convenient. Too convenient. A rare male with engineering and biological capabilities just happening to save one of their own. A male who claimed to have survived alone on a trash planet for 'some time', yet somehow had:
An out-of-date robot suspiciously banned in the capital for performance issues.
A ship whose production line had stopped ten years ago.
Access to that strange blue mineral before anyone else seemed to know its value apart from him.
Weapons and tech that didn't exist in the dominion, even in underground markets that he claimed to have made them himself.
Mantis didn't believe a word of it.
And worse, and this was what really gnawed at him, the male's pheromone signature was wrong. Most male zergs blazed with it, an unmistakable marker that had them protected and cared for. Yet this one barely registered. You could almost miss it if you weren't paying attention. Which begged the question: was he suppressing it intentionally? Was he sick? Was he even really a male?
Everything about him led to more suspicion. One way or the other he would expose that lying little…
"Hey! Check it out," Verrik said, interrupting him from his internal grumbling to look far ahead of him. He wanted to scoff and leave him be but Verrik seemed serious.
The rover had now slowed to a stop, and in front of them, about 500 metres away, stood a small hill. A small clutter of insects, roughly twenty in number were swarming it. The insects seemed to come and go in waves, likely gathering the unknown blue mineral which for some reason the male zerg seemed to know its use and wanted to kick them out once that came to light. Suspicious.
He turned to face Verrik who was now laser-focused on the insects.
"We should just leave them," Mantis said, eager to go home and follow the original plan. Sadly, he already knew the answer.
"In what world do you think I'm gonna let that happen," Verrik replied. "His excellency needs protection and those insects are already near his home, do you think he can protect himself?"
The original plan was to leave immediately after Kinsley woke up to fix their ship and communicators. But that was before they realised that the male had also never seen an insect before while stuck on the planet and likely even before. Before they realised the male held what might be important information on the blue mineral that made the insects stronger. Before Kaerin's episode. Worst of all, before they realized their 'gracious host' apparently has no soothing ability whatsoever and was out of touch with reality and his biology as a whole.
That had been interesting. Verrik had brought the male in expecting some kind of mental soothing, some display of the power that oftentimes came with the territory. It was a risk and they all knew it. It would lead to suffering from both ends if their compatibility rate didn't match or even the skill and was blatantly manipulative and demanding. But they had to do something for Kaerin to live. They got desperate when he all but fainted. Instead, there'd been confusion. Genuine confusion. Like the male zerg didn't understand what Verrik was asking him to do, nor why he was needed.
Except, somehow, even without his help, Kaerin had recovered. His general was really made of steel it seemed. He wasn't out of the woods yet based of the symptoms he was exhibiting lately but he was definitely strong.
Mantis gripped the steering controls harder, feeling the subtle vibration of the engine through his palms.
"What's with you?" Verrik asked, his tone returning to something closer to genuine curiosity. "You want him gone? You want us to torture him for information or what?"
"I don't, I want to know what he is," Mantis answered, which wasn't quite what he meant. Besides, he rarely tortured people. What he meant was: I want him not to exist. I want Kaerin's attention back to the mission. I want to leave this damn place, and I want the world to make sense again.
Instead, what he said was: "He's hiding something. Everything about him screams it."
"Probably," Verrik agreed, and the unexpected agreement made Mantis look over sharply. "But so are we. So is Kinsley. So is Kaerin, for that matter. The question isn't whether he's hiding something—it's whether what he's hiding is a threat to us."
Mantis didn't have an answer to that.
They drove in silence, the rover's suspension bouncing over the uneven terrain. The insects ahead continued their purposeless dance, gathering and dispersing, gathering and dispersing. In the distance, Mantis could see the faint outline of other rock formations, other possible shelter locations.
He thought about Kinsley, still recovering in the medical bay. Thought about how that robot and male seemed adept at bio-engineering, that he got better in record time for a healing pod that was supposed to take double the amount a standard military grade one could. Thought about how much he hated that he couldn't be the one to do that when he was responsible for his injuries.
"For what it's worth," Verrik said quietly, "I don't think he's an enemy. I think he's scared. And I think whatever he's hiding, it's not because he wants to hurt us."
Mantis wanted to argue. Wanted to point out all the inconsistencies, all the red flags, all the ways this male zerg didn't fit into any category that made sense.
Instead, he just turned towards the insects with a sigh.
******
Kinsley remembers waking up and being confused since then. For a person whose primary expertise was infiltration and intelligence work, waking up in a stranger's medical bay with no memory of how he'd arrived was... humbling. He blamed himself. He should have declined Kaerin's offer to involve him in direct combat operations.
Waking up, being told that his male Zerg-hating teammates were currently being given shelter, food and even having their equipment fixed by a male zerg sure was something. The idea that one was living independently on a trash planet while also possessing medical equipment advanced enough to treat his injuries didn't fit any operational profile he knew.
On top of that, Mantis was being weirder and more wired up than usual. It was strange watching someone who always preferred to listen and thoroughly hated males chat up a storm about a certain male who called himself Lan. While not complaining about him, he'd move on to complain about their general…the original target of those rambles whenever he overworked himself. Seeing another person being added to the tiny list of focus from him definitely did something.
Mantis also complained about how enamoured the general seemed by the Lan, which in itself was crazy to him till he heard how the general talked…it was uncanny.
The point is, this was just plain ridiculous, and he hadn't even met the male zerg yet.
He stared at the robot, Cody continuing with his job while leisurely humming. It was unnerving for a robot but he couldn't help but want to dig into his coding just to check how he worked. Cody seemed to notice his stare and started to talk.
"You're cleared to move about," Cody informed him with his surprisingly Zerglike tone. "Your physical therapy can begin immediately. Recommend light activity initially."
Kinsley sat up slowly, testing his body's response. Sore, yes. Weak, definitely. But functional. "Thank you, Cody. For everything."
"I just performed standard medical protocols with what was available," Cody replied, moving to adjust the IV stand. "Young master Lan is the one who fixed the equipment and made it possible. You should direct your gratitude toward him."
"I will, when I see him," Kinsley said.
As Cody helped him to his feet, Kinsley noticed more odd things about the robot to his ever-growing list. There was a fluidity to them that went beyond mechanical efficiency. A consideration in how he supported Kinsley's weight, adjusted his pace to Kinsley's weakness. Almost... aware.
"Cody, you seem almost conscious sometimes," Kinsley said, more to himself than anything else. "Like you're thinking about what you're doing, not just executing commands."
Cody paused. A long pause. Then: "That is an astute observation. I am uncertain how to categorise my current state. I have developed responses that exceed my original programming parameters to help master."
Kinsley found himself staring at the robot with new appreciation. Something had changed Cody. Something about being on this ship, with the male zerg, had given the machine something approaching personality. That was remarkable.
It also made him want to meet the male Zerg even more.
"Would you like a tour of the ship?"
"Yes, please, thank you cody,"
"It is of no issue, right this way," Cody said as he ushered him outside the healing room.
The ship itself was... interesting.
Cody led him slowly through the corridors, supporting his weight when the weakness became too much. The design was older, just like he was told. He could see that immediately from the architecture, the aesthetic of the fixtures, but it was well-maintained. Surprisingly well-maintained, actually. Everything was clean, organised, and efficient.
There was something naggingly familiar about the layout. The curve of the corridor. The positioning of the equipment stations. Kinsley found himself thinking about it, then immediately dismissing the thought. With the number of ships, he'd been in during his career, layouts were often similar. His mind was playing its usual tricks, and he hated it when it did.
In the lounge, he noticed the customisations. Someone had invested time in making this ship livable. There were plants. An actual botanical corner with careful hydration systems. Someone cared about maintaining life here.
"The nearest person is in the training area," Cody informed him. "General Kaerin and the male zerg are together there."
Kinsley found himself straightening slightly despite his earlier weakness. "Can you take me to them?"
"Of course."
The training area was outdoors, or rather, had an open-air quality that suggested a large section of the ship's exterior had been cleared or modified. Kinsley stepped out into the wasteland air and immediately saw them.
Kaerin and the male zerg were sitting on the ground, both visibly exhausted, both drenched in sweat. They'd been training, clearly. What on earth? He was starting to see what Mantis meant. It felt odd. There was an intimacy to their proximity that Kinsley registered and filed away without comment.
But it was the male zerg's hair that caught his attention first.
White. Strikingly, almost impossibly white. The color seemed to catch the light even in the harsh glare of the wastelands. Long, falling past his shoulders. Snow leopard clan, Kaerin had said. Snow leopard clan didn't typically have white hair.
Kinsley's eyes narrowed.
He pushed the feeling down and looked at the male zerg's face.
The world seemed to pause.
Kinsley couldn't have said what he expected to see. But it wasn't this. Wasn't the sharp, angular features of someone who'd spent years alone. Wasn't the cold, calculated expression of someone who viewed the world as a problem to solve. Wasn't the faint curve of a mouth that had learned not to smile.
Something in his chest clenched.
He knew this face, or faces, better yet.
Kinsley stood frozen, unable to move, unable to look away.
The male zerg looked up.
Their eyes met.
And for just a moment, barely perceptible, quick as a blink, something shifted in Lan's expression; he was clearly annoyed about the interruption to whatever conversation they were having.
The moment passed. Lan turned away, returning his attention to Kaerin, as though Kinsley were nothing.
"Kinsley," Kaerin said, noticing him. "You're awake. How are you feeling?"
"I'm..." Kinsley started, then stopped. His eyes were still on the male zerg's back. On the white hair. On the set of those shoulders. "I'm fine. I wanted to thank him."
The male zerg didn't turn around.
The silence stretched uncomfortably.
"He's not much for social niceties or talking too," Kaerin said, not unkindly. Kinsley couldn't hear it. His mind was somewhere else.