Chapter Text
Grian’s day-cycle had started relatively normally. He got up later than most, procrastinated finishing his current project while he bothered his friends, ate the late-day-cycle meal—all of them had different names for it, he personally called it ‘food two’--- and worked on a few small side projects while still procrastinating his big one. It was when the night-cycle began and the lights on the ship dimmed that they struck.
Normally, Illagers were easy to spot and relatively simple to ward off, especially in an advanced ship like the Hermit. But these were not normal circumstances.
Somehow, they’d gotten their hands on truly advanced cloaking technology. Not only were there the standard Pillagers—a variant of Illager that were good shots and good in numbers but not much else— but there were also Vindicators— particularly nasty, fast, and strong variants— and Evokers— not particularly strong but very good at technology, especially for other Illagers. Together, they’d managed to overtake the Hermit and capture everyone on board, knocking them all out with a gas that had filled the air too quickly for their ventilation system to remove.
Grian woke up cold. Very cold. He was shivering and splayed out against somehow colder metal. He sat up despite his pounding headache and tried his best to make out his surroundings with his blurry eyesight. Once his usually sharp eyes focused, his stomach dropped.
He and his crewmates were in clear cells. Bars crossed in front of him in a linking pattern, creating square gaps for him to look out from. There was a solid metal door to the far left side of his cell. Across from him, he could see his crewmates had been split into two groups in two cells. The first cell had almost all of the more predatory species, the second all but two were normally docile species.
Though, anyone who knew Zed knew better than to classify him as a ‘docile’ species, he could be quite terrifying.
It took Grian a moment to spot Xisuma, before he saw him in a crystalline ice-like containment… jar? That was the best way Grian could explain it. His suit had been taken from him, leaving behind the sapient void he was. He could hardly form into his more solid self and was racing from wall to wall of his containment in clear stress and anger.
Then Grian realized he could see every crew member in front of him.
He was alone in his cell.
Grian did not like where that train of logic led to.
From down the hall, heavy footsteps approached. Flanked by two vindicators, there was an illager in an iceologer uniform. This was the illager equivalent to a scientist, as close as the species that tended to not focus too much on mental strength could get anyway. But that was just what made iceologers all the more dangerous.
The iceologer marked down whatever he was interpreting his observations as on his holopad, before he jerked his chin towards Grian and said something in his garbled native language that the universal translate never could quite pick up.
The next few hours were filled with pain, fear, and confusion, before Grian was tossed carelessly back into a new cell, shoddy bandages over his skin where samples had been scooped out, missing multiple feathers, and clinging to his avian glamor by the tips of his talons. The iceologer wanted to see what a rare Watcher would do in this situation. With the clear drugs in his system, the best rebellion he could do in this situation was to not give him the satisfaction. He was in a cell away from his crew now.
He was on his own.
Watchers were a small and rare species in the universe. They were a kind of shapeshifter that fitted seamlessly into their chosen societies, where they would make their lives. Watchers did not have a home planet, so this was the only way their species could survive. Unfortunately, this just made them all the more appealing to poachers and dirty scientists who wanted to figure out how the illusive species ticked.
The next few day-cycles continued in a similar pattern. On occasion, one of his other crewmates would be dragged off past his cell— the only way he knew they were still alive— but Grian seemed to be a favorite of the iceologers.
He was given one packet of universal rations a day, and a packet of water twice a day. It was hardly enough to survive. Grian could feel himself getting weaker by the day. His hold on his glamor was slipping. He just wanted to go home already. But all of his crew were here. There was no one out of this ship who was looking for them or who would bother searching for them.
Maybe that nice merchant they talked to sometimes would look for them? He seemed to like them well enough, as much as Grian could tell anyway. He could barely read the guy.
One day-cycle, the pattern had halted. There was an odd air about the ship. The automated dispensers still delivered their allotted rations, but other than that, no one approached their cell block. Anxiety settled over the crew of the Hermit. It was odd for the pattern to be broken like this. What could be causing it?
In the middle of the night-cycle, they got their answer. Or, at least, Grian did.
Grian startled awake by the sound of heavy feet. He scrambled into the back corner, mantling his wings around himself as threateningly as he could despite how they shook from fear, cold, and exhaustion. The vindicators were dragging something from behind them. They hauled open the heavy metal door and threw what they were dragging into Grian’s cell. They had a natsier look than normal, bloodthirsty grins on their faces. They locked the door and walked away, chuckling to themselves in a way that had Grian’s blood run cold. Slowly, he turned to look at the lump that had been tossed in.
It groaned.
Grian’s feathers puffed up in an effort to make himself look bigger as the creature sat upright. He stared at it in silence, eyes wide as it just seemed to keep unfolding .
Finally, it stopped. Its legs were folded against the ground in a way that must have been how they usually were. Its torso was fairly long and its limbs were unnervingly gangly. Its hair was a bright orange, a clear warning of the poison that must run through its veins. Its hide was a multitude of colors. Its face was a pale peach, its torso was a deep brown and clearly thick, its hands were black as were its feet, and its legs were a deep blue. It had no toes that Grian could see. It blinked wide, forward facing, bright green eyes. It slowly swiveled its head back and forth, clearly looking around for aggressors or prey.
Its eyes landed on Grian.
It stared and stared and stared , hardly blinking. Grian rattled his feathers and for the first time, his glamor slipped. His Eyes opened and Stared back at the creature, trying to ward it off from pouncing on him as its hind legs were clearly poised to do. The creature startled, as all beings did when faced with something with so many Eyes.
And then it leaned in .
Grian couldn’t help the startled squawk as he pressed further into the cold corner he’d stupidly tucked himself into. There was no getting away from this thing. He was trapped. Slowly, it lowered its front legs to the ground. Its front-toes splayed out on the ground, grotesqueley flat. Bright, unnerving eyes that rarely blinked were still trained on him as it slowly approached him. Its hind-toe dragged against the ground, but it showed no pain or even acknowledgement to this.
Grian hissed at it and it paused. This startled Grian into blinking. Having been silent for a beat, the creature continued its approach. Grian hissed again and it stopped. He was silent and it moved. The creature must have been scared by the noise, so he continued to hiss and hiss and hiss.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t make the noise forever, needing to pause for air. While he panted, the creature drew closer.
It stopped just out of reach. Grian puffed up again, but he couldn’t form a squawk or hiss. Instead, all he gave was a strangled chirp, a cry for help for family that couldn’t reach him, trapped in their own cells as they were.
Then, the most bewildering thing happened.
The creature lowered itself to the ground. Its hindlegs unfolded impossible more until it was stretched out flat against the floor. It showed no sign of discomfort against the chill. Instead, it tucked its weirdly flat front feet under its chin and slowly blinked up at him.
Grian… didn’t know what to do in this situation. He stared back.
Gemini Lehman had been expecting a few things from her day-trip into the woods. She’d hike a few trails, watch a few birds, feed some deer she’d made friends with, stop by an ice cream parlor on her way back and get her and her brother some ice cream, maybe she’d stumble across an injured animal and help it out before she made her way back home.
What she had decidedly not been expecting was to be abducted by aliens in the middle of the sunny day!
She’d been peacefully walking along the trail, pausing in a clearing to admire how the wildflowers and butterflies were doing. She had been planning to do some sketching before she moved on, when the air changed. The sky got darker. She brushed it off at first, thinking it was just a cloud, before it got too dark. The butterflies fled and the rabbits and squirrels rustled through the brush. The birds shrieked before fleeing the trees.
Never let it be said that Gem was an idiot, okay? She’d seen horror movies, and had seen real-time horror scenarios from her time working. You saw some shit as a wildlife veterinarian.
So, Gem had not bothered looking behind her or up once the wildlife began to flee. Oh no. without hesitation she was off like a shot down the trail, racing back towards her truck. Unfortunately, the thing that caused the animals to flee seemed pretty set on her in particular.
The air around her wavered and her stomach dropped like it was a rollercoaster. The next time her foot left the ground, it did not reconnect. Gem was left flailing in the air. As she slowly began to ascend, raptured by an icy-blue beam of light.
Like any sane person, she began to scream.
“HELP!” she shrieked, hoping desperately that someone else was hiking on a wednesday afternoon. “HELP ME! PLEASE!”
Gem’s lungs felt constricted and her vision blurred.
Then everything went dark.
Gem woke up while being dragged down a slate-gray metal hall. She passed by cages filled with strange creatures, some of which vaguely resembled those on earth, and others that were completely foreign to her. For a moment, her brain simply didn’t comprehend what she was seeing. Her head throbbed with a migraine as she tried to make any kind of sense of her situation that wasn’t ‘I just got abducted by aliens’.
Unfortunately, that was the most logical answer in this situation.
Gem really hated that fact.
The aliens chucked her into a different cell like a ragdoll. Gem thudded against the ground in a way softer landing than she’d been expecting. Then again, she didn't get a whole lot of air on that toss. Either way, she was now in a cell of her own.
Gem took a moment to take a few deep breaths. Hyperventilating wouldn't do her any good right now. Instead, she groaned loudly, which thankfully released some of the pressure on her chest. Annoyance was better than fear in this situation. Gem rolled over and pushed herself up onto her knees, tossing her hair from her face as she slowly took in her cell.
It wasn’t too small, actually. She could probably stand and stretch pretty comfortably here. There wasn’t any bedding, however, and the toilet was unfortunately in full view of everything.
Better than not having any bathroom, though.
The bars were woven in a lateral pattern, though the gaps were still quite wide. There was a large metal door to her left. There was another alien to her right, tucked away in the far corner.
They had brilliant wings that reminded her of a parrot’s. The poor thing was staring at her wide-eyed— or maybe that was just how their eyes looked naturally?--- as they shivered. Multiple feathers were missing from their beautiful wings. They had poorly wrapped bandages that made Gem wince. She really wanted to rewrap them properly, but she knew better than anyone to suddenly approach a frightened animal.
Gem blinked, startled, as eye patterns bloomed across their feathers. It reminded her of a peacock, or those moths and butterflies that had eye patterns to make other creatures think they could always see them. A way to ward off predators. But Gem was not a predator, so she just blinked and did not let herself be deterred.
Instead, Gem got onto her hands and knees and slowly crawled towards it. Every time it hissed, she stopped, waiting for it to calm a little before moving closer. At one point, it gave a long, rattling hiss before it clearly ran out of breath. Gem took this as her moment to implement the second part of her plan. She shuffled a little closer. The alien gave a strangled chirp that reminded her of the frightened birds she’d helped in the past and her heart hurt.
Poor thing, Gem tutted in her brain. People who hurt animals made Gem a special kind of angry.
Gem lowered herself to the floor, laying herself out flat and vulnerable. She was smaller than them now and she slowly blinked up at them.
I’m not a threat, I’m not a threat, see? Look how small I am! I’m so small! I’m not a threat, Gem tried to portray. Like with most injured animals, this seemed to work. The alien slowly blinked back at her, the feathers beginning to flatten. The alien stared back.
Gem laid like that for a long moment, before slowly reaching out. The alien hissed once more and batted her hands away. Their dulled talons didn’t even scratch the leather of her gloves, and she once again frowned at the clear state of abuse this poor creature had been through. Still, Gem recognized that she’d been too eager with her approach and slowly shimmied away from the alien, tucking herself into the opposite corner and mirroring its curled up position. She slowly blinked at it, before carefully averting her eyes.
This would be a long process of gaining trust, but at least it was something to do, something to focus on, so that she wouldn’t freak out as she plotted her escape.
Author's Note:
Objectively, Gem is one of the best people to be zorped into space. she's a wildlife veterinarian, if anyone knows how to deal with aliens heavily reliant on their 'animalistic/alien instincts' it will be her