you knew you'd know me (pt 1)
onho
pg-13 for swearsies
wc 9619
happy birthday blacknerdjade!! hope you'll like it so far, more to come!!
Jinki grows up with dreamscapes in his back pocket and a blaster in his right hand. His mom was tough, his dad a little kinder, but they were both vigilantes and they were both wanted from governments across the universe. Jinki remembers them with blood on their hands and crazed looks in their eyes from too many dreams. They are both a cautionary tale and an inspiration to him, and he carries their legacy with him in every step, every footprint he leaves in every world he visits.
His ship is small with an even smaller crew, different from the fleet his parents led. Most of them are related to his parents crew, but Jinki doesn’t mind that. He might be Captain, but he is not as domineering as his parents and they work in a democracy. The universe is a cruel place and they have all done cruel things but Jinki will keep his ship an area of peace where everyone's voices are heard.
The whole universe knows his real name: Lee Jinki, son of Suji and Jaebyun. He is too famous to not go by his real name, but to his crew his name is of little consequence. To them, he is Captain. He is their leader, he is a legend by virtue of his parents. When he tries to sleep natural sleep, this haunts him. Will he be just like his parents then? Jinki has heard too many screams from young throats and seen too much to believe in their cause. It is a cause carried through centuries: free the peoples, free the species, the trees, everything, for we are all equal.
He scoffs in his favorite dreamscape, because real sleep is always elusive. Equality is a farce and those who dream it are fools. Key can call him an idealistic idiot for wanting the ship to be peaceful all he wants, Jinki knows the truth. In the dreamscape, sitting on the highest peak of the tallest mountain, surveying the dips and curves of land in front of him and somehow, impossibly hearing the ocean come and go behind and far below him, Jinki admits the paradox of his life.
The Shining Star is on a routine drive through in the Novus galaxy. As with most of the Novus planets, the planets they navigate through are swathed with clouds. One or two of them are having an unusually clear day and they can see right through to the dusty gray surface. The habited planets in this galaxy are all underground and one of his crew is from Novus VI, which is known in particular for it’s shipments of hyrdronium, a necessary mineral for gravity hopping. Jinki takes a moment as he stares out from the bridge to recall his name. T something, his mind tells him. The crew is small enough he should know all of their names, but this one slips from him. He thinks about taking a break to slip into his memory dreamscape, an unused dream scape that was a gift from his mom, but the Novus galaxy makes him too twitchy. It’s something about all the clouds and the lack of visibility.
Key, his Navigation Officer, has told him time upon time how it is impossible for a ship to gain the velocity required to give them an actual chase through the galaxy coming from atmosphere, but it doesn’t comfort him. He would know, though, as one of the few crew members who was straight before turning to their cause. He’d even gone to flight school and is the only one amongst them who has proper training. They all know how to do their duties and those of others to fill in as necessary, but theirs is a knowledge put together hodge-podge by watching with wide, wondering eyes in the ships their parents were on. That’s how Jinki knows what to do, how to sit in his Captain’s seat with just the right amount of slouch that projects confidence and how to give orders.
His parents were the best; Jinki knows this and he does his best to emulate it.
“It’s okay to take breaks once in a while,” his First Officer says behind his shoulder. First Officer Jonghyun has been his best friend since they were little. His single mother was Weapons Handler for his parents and Jinki remembers their moms giggling late at night with bottles of rum and whiskey in their hands. His dad would be in his own dreamscape, doing things Jinki didn’t understand yet.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Jinki murmurs in reply. Of his crew, Jonghyun is the only one who grew up with Jinki and Jinki despairs over how similar Jonghyun is to his alias of Jjong. How is he to be protected if his secrets are so easily revealed?
“We aren’t expecting any disturbances in this check-up.”
In his tone, Jonghyun tells Jinki that he hasn’t taken a break in more cycles than healthy. As he stares at what he’s almost positive is Delice II, he blinks for too long. Heaving a sigh, he stands and most of the bridge stands with him. Key is the only who remains sitting.
“I’m retiring to my quarters,” he announces to the room and leaves with a heavy hand on Jonghyun’s shoulders. No one follows him off the bridge and the door clicks shut behind him with a metallic beep. The hallways are dark; they haven’t had a fuel refill in galaxies. This is the third check-up they’re performing and their low fuel levels are part of Jinki’s anxiety.
At the door to his quarters, Jinki keys in his code and offers his eye for confirmation of his identity. That is another cautionary tale he learned from his parents. The door swings open, the automatic hinges in his door one some of the few that don’t squeal. The ship was old when Jinki took it on from the wreckage of his parents fleet however many years ago. He doesn’t know who it once belonged to, nor does he particularly care. It flies, it is quick and it is small: that is all he cares about.
The room beyond the door is as plain as the hallways and darker. When he steps in, the solar lights that line the intersection between floor and walls brighten slowly. There are no windows into space here; the architect of this ship had considered the captain best protected in the center of the ship and his desk is the very center of that center. That are stacks of discs on his desk that he should have gone through already, details about shipments and possible tasks they could take on for the cause. The best part about being part of a legend is being able to refuse what you want and take on what you want.
The desk and chair are the only furniture in the entire room. The corner lights highlight the emptiness and the small oil stains and other stains on the wall. On the door that swings shut behind him is a scorch mark that he contemplates every single day. In the dreamscape he once created of his quarters, the walls were covered in scorch marks and smatterings of blood; it is nearly a faithful representation of how he found the rooms when he first found the ship.
Jinki moves through the archway to his bedroom. The large, hexagonal solar light in the middle of the floor brightens. The headboard of his queen bed is pushed against the wall and is opposite the archway; next to it is the near invisible door to a small bathroom. Standing there, he knows that portraits of his parents are on either side of him.
He ignores them as he goes to one of the shelves that circle the room. They are lined with his dreamscapes; most of them discarded dreamscapes, unusable. The one of these rooms is somewhere amongst them and he bets that, if he looked hard enough, he could find some that his parents had created. He cannot enter them, only the creator can enter the dream of the single use dreamscapes, but he doesn’t want to either. They don’t feel right in his hands, as though they bend underneath his fingers, calling him to enter. They feel insane.
His favorite dreamscape is slim in it’s recording in his back pocket and flexible; he reconfigures it every morning, relayers it, figures out the winds that should blow and how much the grass should grow. It is an inheritance from generations before him, from when dreamscapes were first created. Jinki doesn’t understand how they work; he can only enter dreamscapes he creates, yet this is a dreamscape dating back centuries ago and he can enter it. He thinks others could, if they wanted to, but Jinki will never give them a chance. This one is his. This one is an escape from the world, to a place where he is in control.
Sleep is impossible and has been impossible for years and Jinki bypasses all the shelved dreamscapes on their single-use files while pulling out his recorded dreamscape. He was taught what comes next when he was four and didn’t understand what dreamscapes were, only that his parents mediated for long hours of time and never seemed to need the sleep he did. On his bed, he sits cross-legged with closed eyes, recording clasped loosely in his hands.
Slowly, easily, he slips into the scape and opens his eyes once more. He’s on top of the mountain and in front of him are the peaks of shorter mountains and beyond that are green lands. Behind him is the ocean and he looks over his shoulder; the waves come and go on a shore he can’t see, but he knows from coming here so many times that the shore is a crescent with black sand that the mountains rise from.
The ocean, a memory he has from when he was six, sparkles underneath the sun. This landscape is created from bits and pieces of things he remembers, a dream that he wishes he could live in. When his mind wavers in that direction, he thinks he understands why dreamscapes were phased out.
He looks back over the green lands and feels a small breeze on his skin, ruffling his hair the slightest. There are no natural breezes on the ship, just the displacement of ventilation. This dreamscape is his memory of land, of being planet-side and being anchored to something solid underneath his feet. Then again, Jinki knows from experience that planets are not necessarily solid. He has little trust for real ground underneath his feet, but this ground harkens to the days he did.
Jinki starts walking forward and, because it is his dreamscape, he doesn’t follow the descent of the rocky mountainside. He walks in the clouds and he can see blue sky around him. When he wills it, after he has walked to the green lands, he is on the ground again.
Dreamscapes don’t have the same restrictions reality have: they cater to the mind of the dreamer. A dreamscape is a dreamer’s creation and controlling the dreamscape is as natural to Jinki as breathing. Sometimes it is more natural because sometimes he forgets how to breathe, like when he watches fires burn or executions governments hold.
The grass is cool under his feet and he buries his body in it and closes his eyes. Real sleep is not allowed in a dreamscape because time moves differently in dreamscapes, in a way that scientists and naturalists have never figured out. Dreamscapes are dreams and how does one pin down a dream? Dreamers, creators of dreamscapes, are perhaps the only one who understands the futileness of those who search to decipher dreamscapes.
He rolls onto his back and when he opens his eyes a figure stands in front of him. Immediately, from habit, Jinki banishes the person. But he does not disappear and panic sets in- sometimes his parents appear. His mom has her hip holster dragging low, blood trickling from her gentle smile and his dad has blasters in both hands and stands with feet wide-apart, looking into the distance with bruises all over his body.
Jinki scrambles upwards, because this man is not either of his parents. He is taller than Jinki, without a holster nor a weapon of any sort. It doesn’t take long for Jinki’s right hand to curve into the familiar position of wielding his favorite blaster.
“I come in peace,” the man says with hands raised in the air. “It’s taken me too long to find you.”
“Find me?” Jinki asks and he tries not to let fear into his voice because what does it mean that someone can slip into his dreamscape? They are coded to the dreamer; no one else is supposed to be able to slip in like this.
“You’re not an easy man to get a hold of,” he says with a smile and then sits down. He’s graceful, more graceful than Jinki, and his long legs bend with elegance. His back is straight, wide shoulders parallel to the ground.
“You’re not screaming trust-worthy to me,” Jinki scowls while keeping his blaster pointed on the man. “Who are you?”
“My name is Minho. And no need to introduce yourself, for you’re Lee Jinki, Captain, the infamous rebel, child of the founders of the Great Rebellion.”
“And what are you? You still have me at a disadvantage.”
Minho smiles easily at him. His smile spells trust-worthy in a way that has Jinki on edge. All the most untrustworthy people have seemed the most trustworthy. None of his crew seems competent, but they all get their jobs done in a way that tells an opposite story.
“I’m an important person to certain people. You might want to try and find me, but I’d rather you didn’t.”
Sighing, Jinki returns his gun to his holster. His hand feels naked without it because his heart is still beating danger in his chest. He wishes he could leave, but he doesn’t feel safe leaving his dreamscape with this stranger in it.
“Can you tell me how you found me then? And perhaps why?” He sits across Minho, his movements not graceful but compact, military-like.
“There aren’t many dreamers left, are there,” Minho hums, pulling up grass and shredding the blades.
A shiver runs down Jinki’s spine- this is echoing his previous thoughts too closely. “How do I know you’re real?”
It is a quiet, nearly rhetorical question, but the wide-eyed, indignant look Minho gives him makes it seem like it had been a pointed, loud one. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. You’re a dreamer, how do you know when anything is real?”
He stares mutely at Minho because- these words? They hurt. Jinki barely classifies himself as a dreamer; he feels like a bastard dreamer most of the time, trailing coattails and putting on shoes that don’t fit right.
“I don’t,” he whispers. He feels like this isn’t real, but that’s only because he aches for this to be fully a dream, for Minho to be part of a dreamscape and that is how he knows Minho to be real.
Minho’s expression turns apologetic. “Oh, man, I’m sorry. I forget that not all dreamers have proper training. I’m lucky I have it and I really- I shouldn’t look down on you for doing your best while knowing nothing.”
This is another hard blow: he knows nothing. “I know some things,” Jinki tries with a faint voice. Minho’s incredulous look almost puts the spark to rest, it nearly succeeds, but Jinki is still his parents only son and he rebels against it. “I know how to kill. Do you know how to do that? How to choke life out of someone, or aim so the strike goes through their ears?”
The expression goes solemn. Minho has an expressive face, Jinki now notes. His cheekbones are high and skin a deep gold that he is suddenly obsessed with. It is hard to tear his eyes away from the slope of Minho’s cheeks to look at his round eyes, set deep underneath heavy eyebrows and considering Jinki. “I do not.”
“I also know that if I were to kill you here, in this dreamscape, your body would never wake up. Do you really want to risk that?”
Minho smiles softly. “I do not.”
“Don’t belittle or condescend me again, and maybe I won’t.”
The smile grows. “You are better than your reputation.”
Jinki’s heart beats a little faster at the smile. It transforms the expressive set of features and that look is the happiest look Jinki has ever seen. “If you could answer my questions, then. Why are you here?”
“I-” There’s hesitancy in his voice, and in the quick, slight downturn of his lips. “I want to help you, you and your crew. Whether you accept it or not, the future of you and your ship will determine the outcome of the rebellion.”
“So you impossibly invade my dreamscape, from who knows where,” Jinki says, crossing his arms and giving his most not-impressed look. “And I don’t believe you. We’re outliers, tolerated for the reputation our relatives have.”
“Do you believe that? Do you honestly believe that you aren’t a focal point of the rebellion?”
Jinki shakes his head, dropping his arms and leaning backwards. He stares up at the sky, dreaming the clouds into shapes like their ship, blasters, an explosion. “We’re mascots, Minho, for a hopeless rebellion. If you are to try and convince me otherwise, you will have a hard time of it.”
“The greatest leaders don’t want to lead,” Minho replies and the fact that he doesn’t comment on the shape of the clouds above tells that he’s not looking. And when Jinki chances a glance back at Minho, he finds that gaze settled firmly on him.
“You can quote philosophy at me all you want,” Jinki murmurs, vanishing the clouds so the sky is clear blue. “But I will not be dragged into this rebellion any further. It kills.”
“It saves more than it kills,” Minho says as Jinki stands.
He stares down at Minho for a few minutes before he draws his blaster. “If you don’t leave me alone, I will shoot you where you sit.”
Minho does not look afraid. “I’ll be back,” he says as he stands again and like this, standing face-to-face, the blaster is nearly pressed against Minho’s heart. Then he’s gone and Jinki is alone in this vast, wide dreamscape he’s created with that slight breeze cool upon his face.
He leaves the dreamscape later and opens his eyes to the portraits of his parents in front of him. They look disapproving, but their expression changes day to day so Jinki doesn’t think there’s any relation between the current expression and Minho. But still-
“Don’t look at me like that,” Jinki growls as he sprawls backwards on his bed. He grabs his pillow and brings it to his chest as he curls around it. He only allows himself to stay there for a few moments before he rolls off his bed and avoids eye contact with his parents as he walks towards his desk. “Lights brighten,” he says on automatic as he sits down and goes through the disks. There are disks from the official leader of the rebellion, news disks and disks of supplies for the ship. He picks one up, reads the title- Great Rebellion strikes capital of Janus galaxy. He sighs and puts it back down. He has next to no interest in this rebellion; he doesn’t believe in the cause and he doesn’t believe in their success.
Minho’s words come to mind. You will determine the outcome of the rebellion. Yeah, right, Jinki scoffs mentally. He’s a figurehead, is all, a person to point at and say Look! Son of the great rebels Suji and Jaebyun is continuing the fight and so must we! He’s heard the rhetoric, has said it often enough himself, to not believe it.
There’s not much he does believe in. Jinki believes in his crew, he believes in his blaster and he believes in his dreamscapes. Three things, and three things is not a lot. “He’s wrong,” he says aloud to the silent room. “I’m nothing.” He’s heard that often enough to believe it to be true. He’s read the words on the tabloids, about how his strikes don’t do anything, about how he’s following his parents for lack of anything better to do. Each word drives daggers into his heart. He doesn’t let anyone on, though sometimes he thinks Jonghyun knows.
The next time he enters the dreamscape, later that day, he finds Minho in front of him on the top of the mountain. On either side of him, Jinki can see the green go forth.
“Why are you here?” He asks, resting a hand on his holster.
“I’ve been talking to people and I have testimonies to read to you.”
He snorts. “Testimonies. Of what?”
“Of police brutality, government corruption, the like and how the Great Rebellion has helped.”
The Great Rebellion is taught to those who are allowed to go to school, which Jinki was not for many reasons. He learned about it through his parents, and his parents always told him that it started small, on the little planet they grew up on, in the Ventus galaxy. It held a small population, but Jinki could taste the smoke and fire from the stories. They were used like animals, to produce something they didn’t understand. They had little to no conception of there being a world outside of the vents they crawled through and the gruel they ate.
The details of what happens next always vary with the telling. Sometimes there is an explosion and they retaliate; sometimes someone had infiltrated the system and causes a riot amongst the people. The result is the same: the small rebellions scattered throughout the universe focus on this one, little planet in the Ventus galaxy and the Great Rebellion begins. His parents take a lead and their love story is not taught in the schools but is a secret shared amongst everyone and it parallels the rebellion’s story.
Jinki rubs his forehead. “You know, I think I need to be drunk for this kind of conversation.”
Minho shrugs. “Well, it is your dream. You can imagine the alcohol up and drink that.”
He immediately shakes his head negative. Last time he did that, it had taken him hours and weeks and more to fix the damage of the things he had imagined up while drunk. He’s not even sure if the alcohol actually got him drunk or it was a placebo affect. “If you’re going to be regaling me with horror stories with dubious origins, we might as well relax,” he says drolly and turns and makes his way to the beach.
Minho follows him. Jinki wonders where, exactly, Minho comes from and where he got this teaching he was talking about before. “Okay,” he says once he has his feet and hands buried in the sand, knees bent in front of him and is looking out towards the ocean. With a brief moment of concentration, he has the sun accelerating until it is setting in front of them. The sky is filled with a rainbow of color; it is a painting Jinki has never seen, full of pinks and blues and purples and oranges and reds and he wants to spend extended time planet-side, for once.
“Melanie, specie, aged 37, was taken prisoner under the false charge of prostitution and is raped several times while incarcerated. She lived in the Ventus galaxy and several years the rebellion infiltrated the government of her planet and freed her. They have provided therapy and apologized for not coming earlier.”
“That wasn’t me,” Jinki says, because he’s avoided Ventus galaxy. There’s no way.
“It might not have been, but the captain of the ship who lead the charge credits his victory to you.”
“Who- who was it?” It is a dire curiosity.
“Minseok, Captain of the Starry Field.”
He laughs, though it is short and rough. “Minseok, huh. I told him to change the name of his ship. It’s stupid.” He had been insistent to name it in a way that takes after Jinki’s. It’s dumb. Jinki hadn’t even named the ship; it was the name it had when he found it.
“Maybe. Fuyuki, human, 13. His parents were Senate members and then were captured for being traitors to the state, of which they were innocent. It was a time of paranoia in the Janus galaxy. Both are executed with fire and there is a riot to protest their deaths, orchestrated by the rebellion.”
This he cannot believe. “So we inadvertently cause his parents death and he’s grateful for it?”
“I’m not done,” Minho counters in a soft voice. “They release a public statement that his parents had nothing to do with the rebellion but were executed because they were trying to pass specie-friendly legislation and move him to a safe planet close to the Earthen galaxy.”
“And who helped with this?”
“It was you. It was a different crew, as you’d not collected the complement you have now, but you’d heard about the execution and were furious, or so the media says.”
“I- I don’t remember.” He’s lying. He remembers hearing about the execution by fire and was furious that innocents were being executed in that style. The scent of burning flesh filled his mind until he’d got the riot going. It had been a dangerous period of his life.
“If you say so.” Minho’s look is knowing and, much like wrong executions, it incenses him.
“Why are you so invested? Why do you care about the rebellion?”
Minho looks away from his gaze. In the time he’s not looking at Jinki, he greedily drinks his fill of the strong jawline and the slightly curly hair that curls just at the conjunction of his jaw.
“Minjung, human aged twenty-three,” he says. “Stabbed on the streets in Novus galaxy for no known reason. Criminals were not persecuted because they were military fighting against the unjust rebellion.”
“Your sister?” Jinki guesses. Minho gives him a short nod. “Ah, another cause of corrupt government, ruining the lives of many, many more.”
“Someone,” Minho continues, “sets fire to the military center, the capitol building and the police headquarters. No one knows who it was, but it is attributed to a member of the rebellion.”
“You,” Jinki guesses again, “ineffectually seeking revenge. How long ago was this?”
“Four years.”
“Now that you’ve told me this, and I’m sure you feel like it’s a huge weight off your chest or some other such nonsense, how about you tell me why you felt the need to try and find me?”
“You’re more than a legend,” Minho says. “You are a symbol. A leader the rebellion needs.”
“It’s time for you to leave,” Jinki replies, unearthing his hands from the smooth sand and drawing his blaster. “I don’t want to hear how I’m special, because I’m not. I’m another man who has the misfortune to be born to parents with bigger shoes than their child could fill.”
Minho smiles sweetly at him. “I’ll see you later.”
They’re in the Janus galaxy. Jinki has always hated the Janus galaxy the most, because there’s always this sense that they are better. The planets here are not swathed in clouds the way Novus galaxy planets tend to be, but Jinki knows the temperament of the people from this galaxy. They are a cruel people, believing their culture above all others with their breath-taking architecture and art districts. They are like most people: they believe themselves better than all others, especially specie. Humans, Jinki thinks with disgust. We are the worst.
There is a disturbance at one of the planets and the ship needs fuel and more supplies, so Jinki claims first priority for taking care of the problem. Jonghyun is behind his left shoulder, a trust-worthy presence and Key is in front of him with an arched eyebrow.
“Janus galaxy, planet Tertium? Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Jinki replies with irritation. “We have orders from above.”
“Not that we need to follow them,” Key replies.
He stands now and Key almost looks abashed. “Key, am I your Captain?”
“Yes,” Key mumbles.
“I didn’t hear you,” Jinki says calmly. “Am I your Captain?”
“Yes, you are, Captain.”
“Now plot the course to Tertium.”
“Yes, captain.”
His tone is sulky, but Jinki needs to lay a line. Key is not in charge of anything; he is Navigations Officer. He might have official schooling, but if he wants to be in charge of his own crew, he has to fight tooth and nail for it. He has to find his own ship, be it amongst the wreckage of a fleet or in a shipyard. Either way, Jinki doesn’t care because if Key is in his crew, he will listen.
“Jjong,” Jinki says sharply and watches Jonghyun wipe his expression clean. “Take a walk with me.”
Jinki walks out of the bridge, knowing that Key and the other members of the bridge will do their best to chart the best course to land on Tertium and trusting that Jonghyun will follow him. He enters a meeting room, one seldom used and pushes Jonghyun against a wall when he follows him.
“Key is getting ideas,” Jinki hisses. “And I know it’s coming from you.”
“Jinki-”
Jinki presses his arm a little harder against Jonghyun’s windpipe.
“Captain,” Jonghyun gasps out and Jinki releases him. “I-”
“I know you two are sleeping together,” Jinki replies, crossing his arms. “I know you two are involved, though I am not aware of how serious this relationship is.”
“Captain, I can-”
“I don’t care about your relationships,” Jinki cuts through. “I don’t. What I do care about is that Key has started questioning me more since this started. Do you get what I’m saying?”
Jonghyun stares at him with big eyes. They remind him of Minho, and of how he’s been there every single time he’s entered his dreamscape. To avoid him, Jinki’s started entering other dreamscapes, ones with palm trees and snow on pine trees and deserted islands, but Minho has a lock on his presence and has followed him like a dog.
He doesn’t stay for long because Jinki doesn’t allow him, but it is the deepest invasion of his privacy Jinki can imagine. There is nowhere left for him now that his dreamscapes are not his alone. With Key acting more and more sullen on the bridge, it’s a nightmare.
“I’m not sure that I do.”
“You need to heel him in,” Jinki hisses.
“He’s his own person, Ji- Captain, I can’t just-”
Running a frustrated hand through his hair, Jinki yells, “I don’t care!”
Again, the wide eyes. He thinks of curly hair and high cheekbones, he thinks skin a beautiful deep gold. It is becoming a problem. “I’m sorry,” Jinki follows brokenly. “I haven’t been- I’ve not been getting proper rest lately. I shouldn’t take it out on you.”
“Jinki,” Jonghyun says and crosses over to hug him. Jinki goes limp in the embrace and rests his head on Jonghyun’s shoulder. “We’re here for you to rely on us. We’re not much use if you don’t tell us if something is wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Jinki mumbles, eyes fluttering shut for a few moments. But sleep is dangerous and he quickly jerks back. “I am sorry for lashing, but Key is-”
“Becoming rebellious, yes, I understand that.” He does, Jinki sees it in his face. He also sees the concern and a love that Jinki can’t comprehend. “Jinki, you are a hope and a blessing to us all. You doubt everything and, after what happened to your parents, I don’t blame you, but you can’t avoid everything as a response.”
“This conversation is over,” Jinki harshly replies. Jonghyun slowly straightens and gives him a salute, then leaves. Jinki slumps heavily into a nearby chair. He’s fucking this all up. He doesn’t know how, but he is. This is not what he was destined for, he can feel it.
Then again, if he was living the way his parents had wanted him to, he’d have heavy blasters in both hands and a scream in his mouth. They’d taught him everything he knows, and it was after their death that Jinki had taken a step back and started to question what they had passed on to him.
He thinks again of Minho, of the different smiles he has and how mobile his mouth is. Not for the first time, Jinki thinks of kissing him, of pressing him into the ground, uncovering the rest of his body.
He slams a fist into the meeting room’s table. It causes a loud sound to echo in the small room and gives him a jolt of pain; it is what he needs to stand up and go search out the crew members from Novus.
It takes him a few members until he comes upon the crew member from Novus VI, the one who’s name he cannot remember. He stares at the eager eyes and naive smile and he cannot dredge the name up for the life of him. “T something,” he mumbles.
“Taesun,” the young man replies. “I go by Taesun.”
“Taesun then, I’m looking for information about a Novus planet.”
“Yes, Captain, I’ll do my best to help,” he replies, leaning forward with each syllable.
Calm down, Jinki wants to say, but instead gives him his best Captain’s smile. “Can you tell me which planet had the burned down capital building and military center? It was four years ago.”
Taesun’s smile turns shifty. “That was Novus VI, Captain. Permission to ask a question?”
“Permission granted.”
“Why do you want to know?”
It is more bluntly put than Jinki was expecting and the expression, previously so happy to please, is serious. “I’m looking for someone.”
Taesun swallows, adams apple bopping up and down with the movement. “Excuse me Captain, but I think I know who it is you’re looking for.”
“Do you,” Jinki deadpans. “Who is it, then?”
“Is his name Minho?”
“How common is the name on Novus VI?”
Taesun shakes his head. “It’s not.”
Jinki takes a moment to really look at the kid; he’s possibly one of the youngest crew members on the ship. Jinki himself is young to be captain, not even thirty, but they had voted for him to be captain despite being younger than most of them. His hair is cut boyishly and his face is androgynous and very, very pretty. His eyelashes are longer than Minho’s. “Come with me.”
He’s followed back to the bridge, where he calls out, “make way to Novus VI immediately,” as soon as he steps in. Jonghyun shoots him a glance while Key starts to change their trajectory.
“The mission, Captain?”
“Contact-” Jinki searches for who else wanted this mission. “Contact Tiffany. She wanted this, she’s from Janus after all.”
“And supplies?”
That’s right. Jinki falls down into his chair. “Fuck,” he mumbles, running a hand over his face. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He can feel eyes on him, Key’s eyes, Jonghyun’s eyes, Taesun’s and everyone else on the bridge. “Cancel that. We continue to Tertium.” Key grumbles and he can tell that Jonghyun relaxes. Taesun, standing nervously off to the side, shifts.
“Who’s Communications Officer?”
Jonghyun replies, “The position has been empty since the altercation in Earthen galaxy eighteen cycles ago. You haven’t replaced her.”
“Taesun,” he beckons. “You’re new Communications Officer. I need you close.”
His face brightens. He’s too young for the position as well as too inexperienced, but Jinki does need him close. He needs to get to know Taesun for when they finally get to Novus VI.
“Seven minutes until arrival at Tertium,” Key says as Taesun settles into his position.
Tertium is like most planets. It is full of people and specie, the trees have leashes and bubbles around them to preserve their oxygen. They’re meant to be helping in the lower districts, where the bridges between buildings are filthier than the buildings themselves and stink so bad Jinki’s eyes water the whole time.
He kills a lot of people in Tertirum and, as he does every time, he wonders if it’s worth it. Having these lives on his hands and this guilt on his shoulders is a heavy burden and he doesn’t know how much more he can take. There is violence everywhere in Tertium and people come out of the metalwork when they hear that Lee Jinki is amongst them and that the bounty is as high as it ever was.
They solve the dispute and level the playing field a little, but Jinki knows that soon enough the scales will tip towards those with money once again. It’s part of his disbelief; there is no point to do this, for human nature will always prevail. It’s what the cause really is, to Jinki. The cause is to prevent human nature, to prevent power, greed, gluttony, all of the seven vices rule the universe, to subjugate everything else, but how do you stop humans from being human? They enslave the other races, the trolls from deep underground in Novus, the flites in Janus are pets and they never asked for it. Mother Nature, a term that Jinki doesn’t understand the origin of, is for harvesting.
In his dreamscape, it is only him. He basks in the soft feel of grass and the majesty of the mountains and revels in being the only living being in the dream. That is, until he blinks open his eyes and sees Minho staring unashamedly at him.
Blood is still underneath his fingernails on his ship, but in the dreamscape it isn’t. His clothes here are pristine, are clothes from when his parents were still alive.
“Good morning,” Minho says with a soft smile, the first beautiful thing Jinki has seen in forever.
Jinki surges forward without thinking, cupping Minho’s face in his hands before kissing him. It’s involuntary, and he bites Minho’s lip gently when he feels hands settle on his back. He sucks on it as Minho’s hands start pushing up his shirt, settling firm and warm on his skin and pulls away.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, watching Minho’s eyelashes flutter. Taesun’s are longer, but Minho’s are enchanting as they are and his eyes are hazed behind them.
“Nothing to be sorry about,” Minho replies, breath ghosting onto Jinki’s face.
“I shouldn’t,” Jinki says, leaning forward again so their lips are touching. “I really, really shouldn’t.”
“You should,” Minho teases, licking Jinki’s lips. “We were meant to be.”
He presses forward to kiss him sweet, and remembers those words passing his parents lips and pulls away abruptly. Minho stares after him, lips redder and swollen, but Jinki doesn’t let his gaze linger for long.
“I refuse to believe that,” Jinki says, dazed. “Nothing is meant to be.”
His hand is on his holster, blaster ready to be used for the hundredth or more time in the past few days. He should take it out and train it on Minho, because this should not be, because this will not end well. Love is not healthy, love is a distraction and love can bring you down. Minho gazes back at him calmly, sitting on crossed legs.
“Who would cry if you died?” Jinki finds himself asking, words coming out without permission.
“My family. My teachers, the lady down the street who gives me fruit for a smile, some childhood friends. You.”
“I wouldn’t cry. I don’t cry anymore.”
“You cried for your parents. It was all over the news, every holo had a clip of you crying watching the execution.”
“Think I don’t know that?” Jinki hisses, stepping forward. His blaster is kissing Minho’s forehead, though it trembles in his grip. He wonders if there would be blood, although blaster shots are more electrical than physical. “I’ve seen enough pitying gazes to know that everyone, every human, specie and plant has seen that fucking clip.”
“You humanized it. You made everyone feel for you, the boy who lost his parents to something greater than anyone can imagine.”
He tosses the blaster to the side, pulls his fist back and clocks Minho. His head jerks back, curls flying everywhere, and he lands backwards onto the grass. “I’m coming to find you,” Jinki growls.
Minho smiles at the sky. Today, Jinki has no clouds above them but the sky isn’t clear blue. There’s something wrong with it, but he doesn’t know how to change it. “I told you, we were meant to be.” He disappears and leaves an indentation of his shape in the grass.
Behind him, Jinki’s mom clucks her tongue.
“He’s no good for you.”
“No worse than you,” he hisses, turning, a hand going to an empty holster.
“Aw, look at our little boy, all grown up. Too bad he can’t get past our death,” his dad says, linking arms with his mom.
They smiled like that in the fire. Jinki looks out towards the grass and starts searching for his blaster. It’s not too far away and his parents watch him with either sympathy or concern.
“Are you okay, Jinki? We haven’t seen you smile these past years.”
“I’m fine,” he grinds out, fingers curling around the blaster, settling too comfortably on the trigger. He shoots, and they smile with love as they, too, disappear.
Before finding Taesun, he stops by Jonghyun’s quarters. He answers with mussed hair and Jinki sighs and gives him a pointed look. Jonghyun replies with a sheepish smile and edges out, closing the door behind him.
“He’s asleep,” he says by way of excuse. “Didn’t want to chance waking him.”
“I- I’m happy for you, I really am. I wanted to apologize again.”
Jonghyun hasn’t grown for years, but his hugs are as they always are: sudden and warm. Tentatively, Jinki hugs him back. “You have this habit of doing things by yourself, you know? Like finding this ship, getting it back into shape and finding us all.”
“I do not.” His reply is muffled in Jonghyun’s shoulder.
“You do, you really, really do. Something’s bothering you and you’re not sharing it.”
Jinki pulls back, startled. Jonghyun taps the side of his head with two fingers. “I notice things. I am your First Officer.”
“I- it’s nothing.”
“You’re not resting anymore.”
“Nightmares,” Jinki challenges, to which Jonghyun scoffs.
“I think not, but if this thing you need to do on Novus VI with the Taesun kid helps, I’ll do anything I can.”
Jinki raises a hand to rest at the back of Jonghyun’s neck and squeezes carefully. “You’re my best friend.”
Jonghyun copies the move. “Best friends for life.”
“We gravity-hop as soon as we can.”
“Of course. I’ll pass the message on.”
“Jjong?” Jinki asks, voice a little tremulous. “I hope you’re happy.”
“We both deserve it.”
Jinki finds Taesun in the mess hall. With fresh supplies, the food isn’t terrible, but they will all be sick of it before they get to Novus VI. He sets his tray in front of Taesun, who immediately looks guilty. “You’re not in trouble,” Jinki says bemused as he sits down. “Just wanted to chat.”
“Uh, okay, yes, yes sir.”
“You’re alone?” Jinki glances around at the mess hall in which, though sparsely filled, no one was sitting alone. “Have trouble fitting in?”
“Ever since becoming an officer, it’s gotten harder.”
Jinki leans back in his seat and breathes out slowly. “I’m sorry for that.”
“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Captain.”
“We’re both off-duty right now,” Jinki says with what he hopes is a charming smile. “No need for such formalities.”
“...Sir?”
“Taesun,” Jinki tries again. “Are you happy here, on this ship?”
“The Shining Star is a magnificent ship, sir.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Such a young man, Jinki can’t help but think looking at him. What has he been through, what has he seen? It’s hard to imagine him having experienced anything and Jinki questions why, exactly, Taesun joined the rebellion. He has to have had a purpose for joining, because he has no background in the rebellion. He joined of his own volition.
“I’m happy to be making a change.”
“And you believe that,” Jinki flatly replies, before shaking his head and the question forming on Taesun’s lips away. “Never mind that.” He sighs staring at Taesun. “I’ll just get to the point. I want what you know about Minho.”
Taesun’s face turns blank. It’s not a good blank face; Jinki knows blank faces, and this is too carefully constructed. With the slightest push, it will come crumbling down. “What about him?”
“What was he like, when he was young?” It seems fair to Jinki that if Minho has seen vids of him crying at his parents execution that he can have stories of his childhood. He wants to know all the embarrassing stuff, about snotty noses and gross pimples. He wants to know about crushes and his parents, what his relationship with his sister was like- really, Jinki should know how to be honest to himself by now. He wants to know every single detail about Minho because Minho has started to obsess him in a dangerous way. It’s why he’s going to Novus VI. It’s to rid himself of this obsession.
“He was always honest and-” There it is, the crumbling of the blank face. “Sir, I don’t think I can talk about it. We- we were best friends, and I left. I don’t feel comfortable sharing his secrets.”
“Ah. I know what this is about.” It’s about being a dreamer. Taesun must know about it then. “And I know. About the dreams? I know, so don’t worry about that, it’s not what I want to know. I want to know how you know each other and what happened.”
Taesun looks both relieved and crushed. “Y-you know? About dreams?”
He nods. “Yes. I do. This is not something we will be discussing ever, though, so if you could please?”
“Well,” Taesun continues, frowning. “On Novus VI, dreamers used to be hunted for sport. This was centuries ago, but it’s part of how the dreamers on Novus VI have become so good at hiding. All the other dreamers across the universe don’t have the same experience. I’m sure there are hundreds, thousands of dreamers on Novus VI, because a teacher will appear to those who discover their ability.”
“You know this how?”
Taesun gives him a ‘duh’ look. It’s the closest to be treated as just a friend Jinki’s felt in a while, if Minho’s not included. Almost as though bidden, the memory of Minho’s breath brushing over his skin like a caress comes to mind. “We were best friends.”
“Were. What happened?”
He shrugs. “His sister was killed. Minho’d already been in training for years already, but this nearly sent him crazy. He- he did things he shouldn’t have.”
“I know he burned the capital building and more down. Don’t worry about it.”
Taesun shakes his head and pushes his tray to the middle of the long table. “That’s not it. He had a huge fight with his teacher and he disappeared for- a few months, at least. When he came back, he said that the rebellion wouldn’t accept him and that he was back for good. Not soon after, I enlisted and was accepted.”
“Who did he find?”
Another shrug. “I don’t know. Minho doesn’t to talk about when he was missing.”
Jinki sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Anything else you can tell me.”
“Uh, can I- can I ask something, first?”
Jinki gives a short nod, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. “Go ahead.”
“How- why did you know about Minho?”
He inhales deeply and exhales slowly. “That’s not something I’m ready to tell you.”
“Then,” Taesun persists, leaning forward and over the table. “Why do you want to find him?”
The kid is earnest. It’s the best word for the look in his eyes and the determined set of his eyebrows. Jinki stands and rests a hand briefly on his shoulder. “I need him on this ship, and you’re going to help me with that.”
“I am?” Taesun blinks, sitting back in his seat. “You need him?”
“We’ll be leaving pretty soon,” Jinki says, walking away but pausing to make sure he’s heard. “It’ll just be me and you on Novus VI, so prepare yourself.”
“Y-yes sir!”
He returns to his room and sits at his desk. The emptiness rarely gets to him, but when it does, the loneliness is vicious. Leeteuk, one of the highest ranked captains, had sent him a message some cycles ago about filing reports and had given him a knowing look through the vid. He has to finish reports from when they were back in Novus galaxy, and logs and approvals and just- the list is non-ending. His parents worked together to get through this all and had called it the most rewarding part of their job. Jinki thinks they were lying, but he doesn’t have someone to share the load with.
1.5 → 2
a/n OKAY SO I added in my italics bc I hadn't realized they were missing before, and the post was too large! So I'm removing the latter half of the last scene and creating a post just for it and will expand on it a little more. sorry about the mistake! 65k characters is just not enough
pg-13 for swearsies
wc 9619
happy birthday blacknerdjade!! hope you'll like it so far, more to come!!
Jinki grows up with dreamscapes in his back pocket and a blaster in his right hand. His mom was tough, his dad a little kinder, but they were both vigilantes and they were both wanted from governments across the universe. Jinki remembers them with blood on their hands and crazed looks in their eyes from too many dreams. They are both a cautionary tale and an inspiration to him, and he carries their legacy with him in every step, every footprint he leaves in every world he visits.
His ship is small with an even smaller crew, different from the fleet his parents led. Most of them are related to his parents crew, but Jinki doesn’t mind that. He might be Captain, but he is not as domineering as his parents and they work in a democracy. The universe is a cruel place and they have all done cruel things but Jinki will keep his ship an area of peace where everyone's voices are heard.
The whole universe knows his real name: Lee Jinki, son of Suji and Jaebyun. He is too famous to not go by his real name, but to his crew his name is of little consequence. To them, he is Captain. He is their leader, he is a legend by virtue of his parents. When he tries to sleep natural sleep, this haunts him. Will he be just like his parents then? Jinki has heard too many screams from young throats and seen too much to believe in their cause. It is a cause carried through centuries: free the peoples, free the species, the trees, everything, for we are all equal.
He scoffs in his favorite dreamscape, because real sleep is always elusive. Equality is a farce and those who dream it are fools. Key can call him an idealistic idiot for wanting the ship to be peaceful all he wants, Jinki knows the truth. In the dreamscape, sitting on the highest peak of the tallest mountain, surveying the dips and curves of land in front of him and somehow, impossibly hearing the ocean come and go behind and far below him, Jinki admits the paradox of his life.
The Shining Star is on a routine drive through in the Novus galaxy. As with most of the Novus planets, the planets they navigate through are swathed with clouds. One or two of them are having an unusually clear day and they can see right through to the dusty gray surface. The habited planets in this galaxy are all underground and one of his crew is from Novus VI, which is known in particular for it’s shipments of hyrdronium, a necessary mineral for gravity hopping. Jinki takes a moment as he stares out from the bridge to recall his name. T something, his mind tells him. The crew is small enough he should know all of their names, but this one slips from him. He thinks about taking a break to slip into his memory dreamscape, an unused dream scape that was a gift from his mom, but the Novus galaxy makes him too twitchy. It’s something about all the clouds and the lack of visibility.
Key, his Navigation Officer, has told him time upon time how it is impossible for a ship to gain the velocity required to give them an actual chase through the galaxy coming from atmosphere, but it doesn’t comfort him. He would know, though, as one of the few crew members who was straight before turning to their cause. He’d even gone to flight school and is the only one amongst them who has proper training. They all know how to do their duties and those of others to fill in as necessary, but theirs is a knowledge put together hodge-podge by watching with wide, wondering eyes in the ships their parents were on. That’s how Jinki knows what to do, how to sit in his Captain’s seat with just the right amount of slouch that projects confidence and how to give orders.
His parents were the best; Jinki knows this and he does his best to emulate it.
“It’s okay to take breaks once in a while,” his First Officer says behind his shoulder. First Officer Jonghyun has been his best friend since they were little. His single mother was Weapons Handler for his parents and Jinki remembers their moms giggling late at night with bottles of rum and whiskey in their hands. His dad would be in his own dreamscape, doing things Jinki didn’t understand yet.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Jinki murmurs in reply. Of his crew, Jonghyun is the only one who grew up with Jinki and Jinki despairs over how similar Jonghyun is to his alias of Jjong. How is he to be protected if his secrets are so easily revealed?
“We aren’t expecting any disturbances in this check-up.”
In his tone, Jonghyun tells Jinki that he hasn’t taken a break in more cycles than healthy. As he stares at what he’s almost positive is Delice II, he blinks for too long. Heaving a sigh, he stands and most of the bridge stands with him. Key is the only who remains sitting.
“I’m retiring to my quarters,” he announces to the room and leaves with a heavy hand on Jonghyun’s shoulders. No one follows him off the bridge and the door clicks shut behind him with a metallic beep. The hallways are dark; they haven’t had a fuel refill in galaxies. This is the third check-up they’re performing and their low fuel levels are part of Jinki’s anxiety.
At the door to his quarters, Jinki keys in his code and offers his eye for confirmation of his identity. That is another cautionary tale he learned from his parents. The door swings open, the automatic hinges in his door one some of the few that don’t squeal. The ship was old when Jinki took it on from the wreckage of his parents fleet however many years ago. He doesn’t know who it once belonged to, nor does he particularly care. It flies, it is quick and it is small: that is all he cares about.
The room beyond the door is as plain as the hallways and darker. When he steps in, the solar lights that line the intersection between floor and walls brighten slowly. There are no windows into space here; the architect of this ship had considered the captain best protected in the center of the ship and his desk is the very center of that center. That are stacks of discs on his desk that he should have gone through already, details about shipments and possible tasks they could take on for the cause. The best part about being part of a legend is being able to refuse what you want and take on what you want.
The desk and chair are the only furniture in the entire room. The corner lights highlight the emptiness and the small oil stains and other stains on the wall. On the door that swings shut behind him is a scorch mark that he contemplates every single day. In the dreamscape he once created of his quarters, the walls were covered in scorch marks and smatterings of blood; it is nearly a faithful representation of how he found the rooms when he first found the ship.
Jinki moves through the archway to his bedroom. The large, hexagonal solar light in the middle of the floor brightens. The headboard of his queen bed is pushed against the wall and is opposite the archway; next to it is the near invisible door to a small bathroom. Standing there, he knows that portraits of his parents are on either side of him.
He ignores them as he goes to one of the shelves that circle the room. They are lined with his dreamscapes; most of them discarded dreamscapes, unusable. The one of these rooms is somewhere amongst them and he bets that, if he looked hard enough, he could find some that his parents had created. He cannot enter them, only the creator can enter the dream of the single use dreamscapes, but he doesn’t want to either. They don’t feel right in his hands, as though they bend underneath his fingers, calling him to enter. They feel insane.
His favorite dreamscape is slim in it’s recording in his back pocket and flexible; he reconfigures it every morning, relayers it, figures out the winds that should blow and how much the grass should grow. It is an inheritance from generations before him, from when dreamscapes were first created. Jinki doesn’t understand how they work; he can only enter dreamscapes he creates, yet this is a dreamscape dating back centuries ago and he can enter it. He thinks others could, if they wanted to, but Jinki will never give them a chance. This one is his. This one is an escape from the world, to a place where he is in control.
Sleep is impossible and has been impossible for years and Jinki bypasses all the shelved dreamscapes on their single-use files while pulling out his recorded dreamscape. He was taught what comes next when he was four and didn’t understand what dreamscapes were, only that his parents mediated for long hours of time and never seemed to need the sleep he did. On his bed, he sits cross-legged with closed eyes, recording clasped loosely in his hands.
Slowly, easily, he slips into the scape and opens his eyes once more. He’s on top of the mountain and in front of him are the peaks of shorter mountains and beyond that are green lands. Behind him is the ocean and he looks over his shoulder; the waves come and go on a shore he can’t see, but he knows from coming here so many times that the shore is a crescent with black sand that the mountains rise from.
The ocean, a memory he has from when he was six, sparkles underneath the sun. This landscape is created from bits and pieces of things he remembers, a dream that he wishes he could live in. When his mind wavers in that direction, he thinks he understands why dreamscapes were phased out.
He looks back over the green lands and feels a small breeze on his skin, ruffling his hair the slightest. There are no natural breezes on the ship, just the displacement of ventilation. This dreamscape is his memory of land, of being planet-side and being anchored to something solid underneath his feet. Then again, Jinki knows from experience that planets are not necessarily solid. He has little trust for real ground underneath his feet, but this ground harkens to the days he did.
Jinki starts walking forward and, because it is his dreamscape, he doesn’t follow the descent of the rocky mountainside. He walks in the clouds and he can see blue sky around him. When he wills it, after he has walked to the green lands, he is on the ground again.
Dreamscapes don’t have the same restrictions reality have: they cater to the mind of the dreamer. A dreamscape is a dreamer’s creation and controlling the dreamscape is as natural to Jinki as breathing. Sometimes it is more natural because sometimes he forgets how to breathe, like when he watches fires burn or executions governments hold.
The grass is cool under his feet and he buries his body in it and closes his eyes. Real sleep is not allowed in a dreamscape because time moves differently in dreamscapes, in a way that scientists and naturalists have never figured out. Dreamscapes are dreams and how does one pin down a dream? Dreamers, creators of dreamscapes, are perhaps the only one who understands the futileness of those who search to decipher dreamscapes.
He rolls onto his back and when he opens his eyes a figure stands in front of him. Immediately, from habit, Jinki banishes the person. But he does not disappear and panic sets in- sometimes his parents appear. His mom has her hip holster dragging low, blood trickling from her gentle smile and his dad has blasters in both hands and stands with feet wide-apart, looking into the distance with bruises all over his body.
Jinki scrambles upwards, because this man is not either of his parents. He is taller than Jinki, without a holster nor a weapon of any sort. It doesn’t take long for Jinki’s right hand to curve into the familiar position of wielding his favorite blaster.
“I come in peace,” the man says with hands raised in the air. “It’s taken me too long to find you.”
“Find me?” Jinki asks and he tries not to let fear into his voice because what does it mean that someone can slip into his dreamscape? They are coded to the dreamer; no one else is supposed to be able to slip in like this.
“You’re not an easy man to get a hold of,” he says with a smile and then sits down. He’s graceful, more graceful than Jinki, and his long legs bend with elegance. His back is straight, wide shoulders parallel to the ground.
“You’re not screaming trust-worthy to me,” Jinki scowls while keeping his blaster pointed on the man. “Who are you?”
“My name is Minho. And no need to introduce yourself, for you’re Lee Jinki, Captain, the infamous rebel, child of the founders of the Great Rebellion.”
“And what are you? You still have me at a disadvantage.”
Minho smiles easily at him. His smile spells trust-worthy in a way that has Jinki on edge. All the most untrustworthy people have seemed the most trustworthy. None of his crew seems competent, but they all get their jobs done in a way that tells an opposite story.
“I’m an important person to certain people. You might want to try and find me, but I’d rather you didn’t.”
Sighing, Jinki returns his gun to his holster. His hand feels naked without it because his heart is still beating danger in his chest. He wishes he could leave, but he doesn’t feel safe leaving his dreamscape with this stranger in it.
“Can you tell me how you found me then? And perhaps why?” He sits across Minho, his movements not graceful but compact, military-like.
“There aren’t many dreamers left, are there,” Minho hums, pulling up grass and shredding the blades.
A shiver runs down Jinki’s spine- this is echoing his previous thoughts too closely. “How do I know you’re real?”
It is a quiet, nearly rhetorical question, but the wide-eyed, indignant look Minho gives him makes it seem like it had been a pointed, loud one. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. You’re a dreamer, how do you know when anything is real?”
He stares mutely at Minho because- these words? They hurt. Jinki barely classifies himself as a dreamer; he feels like a bastard dreamer most of the time, trailing coattails and putting on shoes that don’t fit right.
“I don’t,” he whispers. He feels like this isn’t real, but that’s only because he aches for this to be fully a dream, for Minho to be part of a dreamscape and that is how he knows Minho to be real.
Minho’s expression turns apologetic. “Oh, man, I’m sorry. I forget that not all dreamers have proper training. I’m lucky I have it and I really- I shouldn’t look down on you for doing your best while knowing nothing.”
This is another hard blow: he knows nothing. “I know some things,” Jinki tries with a faint voice. Minho’s incredulous look almost puts the spark to rest, it nearly succeeds, but Jinki is still his parents only son and he rebels against it. “I know how to kill. Do you know how to do that? How to choke life out of someone, or aim so the strike goes through their ears?”
The expression goes solemn. Minho has an expressive face, Jinki now notes. His cheekbones are high and skin a deep gold that he is suddenly obsessed with. It is hard to tear his eyes away from the slope of Minho’s cheeks to look at his round eyes, set deep underneath heavy eyebrows and considering Jinki. “I do not.”
“I also know that if I were to kill you here, in this dreamscape, your body would never wake up. Do you really want to risk that?”
Minho smiles softly. “I do not.”
“Don’t belittle or condescend me again, and maybe I won’t.”
The smile grows. “You are better than your reputation.”
Jinki’s heart beats a little faster at the smile. It transforms the expressive set of features and that look is the happiest look Jinki has ever seen. “If you could answer my questions, then. Why are you here?”
“I-” There’s hesitancy in his voice, and in the quick, slight downturn of his lips. “I want to help you, you and your crew. Whether you accept it or not, the future of you and your ship will determine the outcome of the rebellion.”
“So you impossibly invade my dreamscape, from who knows where,” Jinki says, crossing his arms and giving his most not-impressed look. “And I don’t believe you. We’re outliers, tolerated for the reputation our relatives have.”
“Do you believe that? Do you honestly believe that you aren’t a focal point of the rebellion?”
Jinki shakes his head, dropping his arms and leaning backwards. He stares up at the sky, dreaming the clouds into shapes like their ship, blasters, an explosion. “We’re mascots, Minho, for a hopeless rebellion. If you are to try and convince me otherwise, you will have a hard time of it.”
“The greatest leaders don’t want to lead,” Minho replies and the fact that he doesn’t comment on the shape of the clouds above tells that he’s not looking. And when Jinki chances a glance back at Minho, he finds that gaze settled firmly on him.
“You can quote philosophy at me all you want,” Jinki murmurs, vanishing the clouds so the sky is clear blue. “But I will not be dragged into this rebellion any further. It kills.”
“It saves more than it kills,” Minho says as Jinki stands.
He stares down at Minho for a few minutes before he draws his blaster. “If you don’t leave me alone, I will shoot you where you sit.”
Minho does not look afraid. “I’ll be back,” he says as he stands again and like this, standing face-to-face, the blaster is nearly pressed against Minho’s heart. Then he’s gone and Jinki is alone in this vast, wide dreamscape he’s created with that slight breeze cool upon his face.
He leaves the dreamscape later and opens his eyes to the portraits of his parents in front of him. They look disapproving, but their expression changes day to day so Jinki doesn’t think there’s any relation between the current expression and Minho. But still-
“Don’t look at me like that,” Jinki growls as he sprawls backwards on his bed. He grabs his pillow and brings it to his chest as he curls around it. He only allows himself to stay there for a few moments before he rolls off his bed and avoids eye contact with his parents as he walks towards his desk. “Lights brighten,” he says on automatic as he sits down and goes through the disks. There are disks from the official leader of the rebellion, news disks and disks of supplies for the ship. He picks one up, reads the title- Great Rebellion strikes capital of Janus galaxy. He sighs and puts it back down. He has next to no interest in this rebellion; he doesn’t believe in the cause and he doesn’t believe in their success.
Minho’s words come to mind. You will determine the outcome of the rebellion. Yeah, right, Jinki scoffs mentally. He’s a figurehead, is all, a person to point at and say Look! Son of the great rebels Suji and Jaebyun is continuing the fight and so must we! He’s heard the rhetoric, has said it often enough himself, to not believe it.
There’s not much he does believe in. Jinki believes in his crew, he believes in his blaster and he believes in his dreamscapes. Three things, and three things is not a lot. “He’s wrong,” he says aloud to the silent room. “I’m nothing.” He’s heard that often enough to believe it to be true. He’s read the words on the tabloids, about how his strikes don’t do anything, about how he’s following his parents for lack of anything better to do. Each word drives daggers into his heart. He doesn’t let anyone on, though sometimes he thinks Jonghyun knows.
The next time he enters the dreamscape, later that day, he finds Minho in front of him on the top of the mountain. On either side of him, Jinki can see the green go forth.
“Why are you here?” He asks, resting a hand on his holster.
“I’ve been talking to people and I have testimonies to read to you.”
He snorts. “Testimonies. Of what?”
“Of police brutality, government corruption, the like and how the Great Rebellion has helped.”
The Great Rebellion is taught to those who are allowed to go to school, which Jinki was not for many reasons. He learned about it through his parents, and his parents always told him that it started small, on the little planet they grew up on, in the Ventus galaxy. It held a small population, but Jinki could taste the smoke and fire from the stories. They were used like animals, to produce something they didn’t understand. They had little to no conception of there being a world outside of the vents they crawled through and the gruel they ate.
The details of what happens next always vary with the telling. Sometimes there is an explosion and they retaliate; sometimes someone had infiltrated the system and causes a riot amongst the people. The result is the same: the small rebellions scattered throughout the universe focus on this one, little planet in the Ventus galaxy and the Great Rebellion begins. His parents take a lead and their love story is not taught in the schools but is a secret shared amongst everyone and it parallels the rebellion’s story.
Jinki rubs his forehead. “You know, I think I need to be drunk for this kind of conversation.”
Minho shrugs. “Well, it is your dream. You can imagine the alcohol up and drink that.”
He immediately shakes his head negative. Last time he did that, it had taken him hours and weeks and more to fix the damage of the things he had imagined up while drunk. He’s not even sure if the alcohol actually got him drunk or it was a placebo affect. “If you’re going to be regaling me with horror stories with dubious origins, we might as well relax,” he says drolly and turns and makes his way to the beach.
Minho follows him. Jinki wonders where, exactly, Minho comes from and where he got this teaching he was talking about before. “Okay,” he says once he has his feet and hands buried in the sand, knees bent in front of him and is looking out towards the ocean. With a brief moment of concentration, he has the sun accelerating until it is setting in front of them. The sky is filled with a rainbow of color; it is a painting Jinki has never seen, full of pinks and blues and purples and oranges and reds and he wants to spend extended time planet-side, for once.
“Melanie, specie, aged 37, was taken prisoner under the false charge of prostitution and is raped several times while incarcerated. She lived in the Ventus galaxy and several years the rebellion infiltrated the government of her planet and freed her. They have provided therapy and apologized for not coming earlier.”
“That wasn’t me,” Jinki says, because he’s avoided Ventus galaxy. There’s no way.
“It might not have been, but the captain of the ship who lead the charge credits his victory to you.”
“Who- who was it?” It is a dire curiosity.
“Minseok, Captain of the Starry Field.”
He laughs, though it is short and rough. “Minseok, huh. I told him to change the name of his ship. It’s stupid.” He had been insistent to name it in a way that takes after Jinki’s. It’s dumb. Jinki hadn’t even named the ship; it was the name it had when he found it.
“Maybe. Fuyuki, human, 13. His parents were Senate members and then were captured for being traitors to the state, of which they were innocent. It was a time of paranoia in the Janus galaxy. Both are executed with fire and there is a riot to protest their deaths, orchestrated by the rebellion.”
This he cannot believe. “So we inadvertently cause his parents death and he’s grateful for it?”
“I’m not done,” Minho counters in a soft voice. “They release a public statement that his parents had nothing to do with the rebellion but were executed because they were trying to pass specie-friendly legislation and move him to a safe planet close to the Earthen galaxy.”
“And who helped with this?”
“It was you. It was a different crew, as you’d not collected the complement you have now, but you’d heard about the execution and were furious, or so the media says.”
“I- I don’t remember.” He’s lying. He remembers hearing about the execution by fire and was furious that innocents were being executed in that style. The scent of burning flesh filled his mind until he’d got the riot going. It had been a dangerous period of his life.
“If you say so.” Minho’s look is knowing and, much like wrong executions, it incenses him.
“Why are you so invested? Why do you care about the rebellion?”
Minho looks away from his gaze. In the time he’s not looking at Jinki, he greedily drinks his fill of the strong jawline and the slightly curly hair that curls just at the conjunction of his jaw.
“Minjung, human aged twenty-three,” he says. “Stabbed on the streets in Novus galaxy for no known reason. Criminals were not persecuted because they were military fighting against the unjust rebellion.”
“Your sister?” Jinki guesses. Minho gives him a short nod. “Ah, another cause of corrupt government, ruining the lives of many, many more.”
“Someone,” Minho continues, “sets fire to the military center, the capitol building and the police headquarters. No one knows who it was, but it is attributed to a member of the rebellion.”
“You,” Jinki guesses again, “ineffectually seeking revenge. How long ago was this?”
“Four years.”
“Now that you’ve told me this, and I’m sure you feel like it’s a huge weight off your chest or some other such nonsense, how about you tell me why you felt the need to try and find me?”
“You’re more than a legend,” Minho says. “You are a symbol. A leader the rebellion needs.”
“It’s time for you to leave,” Jinki replies, unearthing his hands from the smooth sand and drawing his blaster. “I don’t want to hear how I’m special, because I’m not. I’m another man who has the misfortune to be born to parents with bigger shoes than their child could fill.”
Minho smiles sweetly at him. “I’ll see you later.”
They’re in the Janus galaxy. Jinki has always hated the Janus galaxy the most, because there’s always this sense that they are better. The planets here are not swathed in clouds the way Novus galaxy planets tend to be, but Jinki knows the temperament of the people from this galaxy. They are a cruel people, believing their culture above all others with their breath-taking architecture and art districts. They are like most people: they believe themselves better than all others, especially specie. Humans, Jinki thinks with disgust. We are the worst.
There is a disturbance at one of the planets and the ship needs fuel and more supplies, so Jinki claims first priority for taking care of the problem. Jonghyun is behind his left shoulder, a trust-worthy presence and Key is in front of him with an arched eyebrow.
“Janus galaxy, planet Tertium? Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Jinki replies with irritation. “We have orders from above.”
“Not that we need to follow them,” Key replies.
He stands now and Key almost looks abashed. “Key, am I your Captain?”
“Yes,” Key mumbles.
“I didn’t hear you,” Jinki says calmly. “Am I your Captain?”
“Yes, you are, Captain.”
“Now plot the course to Tertium.”
“Yes, captain.”
His tone is sulky, but Jinki needs to lay a line. Key is not in charge of anything; he is Navigations Officer. He might have official schooling, but if he wants to be in charge of his own crew, he has to fight tooth and nail for it. He has to find his own ship, be it amongst the wreckage of a fleet or in a shipyard. Either way, Jinki doesn’t care because if Key is in his crew, he will listen.
“Jjong,” Jinki says sharply and watches Jonghyun wipe his expression clean. “Take a walk with me.”
Jinki walks out of the bridge, knowing that Key and the other members of the bridge will do their best to chart the best course to land on Tertium and trusting that Jonghyun will follow him. He enters a meeting room, one seldom used and pushes Jonghyun against a wall when he follows him.
“Key is getting ideas,” Jinki hisses. “And I know it’s coming from you.”
“Jinki-”
Jinki presses his arm a little harder against Jonghyun’s windpipe.
“Captain,” Jonghyun gasps out and Jinki releases him. “I-”
“I know you two are sleeping together,” Jinki replies, crossing his arms. “I know you two are involved, though I am not aware of how serious this relationship is.”
“Captain, I can-”
“I don’t care about your relationships,” Jinki cuts through. “I don’t. What I do care about is that Key has started questioning me more since this started. Do you get what I’m saying?”
Jonghyun stares at him with big eyes. They remind him of Minho, and of how he’s been there every single time he’s entered his dreamscape. To avoid him, Jinki’s started entering other dreamscapes, ones with palm trees and snow on pine trees and deserted islands, but Minho has a lock on his presence and has followed him like a dog.
He doesn’t stay for long because Jinki doesn’t allow him, but it is the deepest invasion of his privacy Jinki can imagine. There is nowhere left for him now that his dreamscapes are not his alone. With Key acting more and more sullen on the bridge, it’s a nightmare.
“I’m not sure that I do.”
“You need to heel him in,” Jinki hisses.
“He’s his own person, Ji- Captain, I can’t just-”
Running a frustrated hand through his hair, Jinki yells, “I don’t care!”
Again, the wide eyes. He thinks of curly hair and high cheekbones, he thinks skin a beautiful deep gold. It is becoming a problem. “I’m sorry,” Jinki follows brokenly. “I haven’t been- I’ve not been getting proper rest lately. I shouldn’t take it out on you.”
“Jinki,” Jonghyun says and crosses over to hug him. Jinki goes limp in the embrace and rests his head on Jonghyun’s shoulder. “We’re here for you to rely on us. We’re not much use if you don’t tell us if something is wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Jinki mumbles, eyes fluttering shut for a few moments. But sleep is dangerous and he quickly jerks back. “I am sorry for lashing, but Key is-”
“Becoming rebellious, yes, I understand that.” He does, Jinki sees it in his face. He also sees the concern and a love that Jinki can’t comprehend. “Jinki, you are a hope and a blessing to us all. You doubt everything and, after what happened to your parents, I don’t blame you, but you can’t avoid everything as a response.”
“This conversation is over,” Jinki harshly replies. Jonghyun slowly straightens and gives him a salute, then leaves. Jinki slumps heavily into a nearby chair. He’s fucking this all up. He doesn’t know how, but he is. This is not what he was destined for, he can feel it.
Then again, if he was living the way his parents had wanted him to, he’d have heavy blasters in both hands and a scream in his mouth. They’d taught him everything he knows, and it was after their death that Jinki had taken a step back and started to question what they had passed on to him.
He thinks again of Minho, of the different smiles he has and how mobile his mouth is. Not for the first time, Jinki thinks of kissing him, of pressing him into the ground, uncovering the rest of his body.
He slams a fist into the meeting room’s table. It causes a loud sound to echo in the small room and gives him a jolt of pain; it is what he needs to stand up and go search out the crew members from Novus.
It takes him a few members until he comes upon the crew member from Novus VI, the one who’s name he cannot remember. He stares at the eager eyes and naive smile and he cannot dredge the name up for the life of him. “T something,” he mumbles.
“Taesun,” the young man replies. “I go by Taesun.”
“Taesun then, I’m looking for information about a Novus planet.”
“Yes, Captain, I’ll do my best to help,” he replies, leaning forward with each syllable.
Calm down, Jinki wants to say, but instead gives him his best Captain’s smile. “Can you tell me which planet had the burned down capital building and military center? It was four years ago.”
Taesun’s smile turns shifty. “That was Novus VI, Captain. Permission to ask a question?”
“Permission granted.”
“Why do you want to know?”
It is more bluntly put than Jinki was expecting and the expression, previously so happy to please, is serious. “I’m looking for someone.”
Taesun swallows, adams apple bopping up and down with the movement. “Excuse me Captain, but I think I know who it is you’re looking for.”
“Do you,” Jinki deadpans. “Who is it, then?”
“Is his name Minho?”
“How common is the name on Novus VI?”
Taesun shakes his head. “It’s not.”
Jinki takes a moment to really look at the kid; he’s possibly one of the youngest crew members on the ship. Jinki himself is young to be captain, not even thirty, but they had voted for him to be captain despite being younger than most of them. His hair is cut boyishly and his face is androgynous and very, very pretty. His eyelashes are longer than Minho’s. “Come with me.”
He’s followed back to the bridge, where he calls out, “make way to Novus VI immediately,” as soon as he steps in. Jonghyun shoots him a glance while Key starts to change their trajectory.
“The mission, Captain?”
“Contact-” Jinki searches for who else wanted this mission. “Contact Tiffany. She wanted this, she’s from Janus after all.”
“And supplies?”
That’s right. Jinki falls down into his chair. “Fuck,” he mumbles, running a hand over his face. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He can feel eyes on him, Key’s eyes, Jonghyun’s eyes, Taesun’s and everyone else on the bridge. “Cancel that. We continue to Tertium.” Key grumbles and he can tell that Jonghyun relaxes. Taesun, standing nervously off to the side, shifts.
“Who’s Communications Officer?”
Jonghyun replies, “The position has been empty since the altercation in Earthen galaxy eighteen cycles ago. You haven’t replaced her.”
“Taesun,” he beckons. “You’re new Communications Officer. I need you close.”
His face brightens. He’s too young for the position as well as too inexperienced, but Jinki does need him close. He needs to get to know Taesun for when they finally get to Novus VI.
“Seven minutes until arrival at Tertium,” Key says as Taesun settles into his position.
Tertium is like most planets. It is full of people and specie, the trees have leashes and bubbles around them to preserve their oxygen. They’re meant to be helping in the lower districts, where the bridges between buildings are filthier than the buildings themselves and stink so bad Jinki’s eyes water the whole time.
He kills a lot of people in Tertirum and, as he does every time, he wonders if it’s worth it. Having these lives on his hands and this guilt on his shoulders is a heavy burden and he doesn’t know how much more he can take. There is violence everywhere in Tertium and people come out of the metalwork when they hear that Lee Jinki is amongst them and that the bounty is as high as it ever was.
They solve the dispute and level the playing field a little, but Jinki knows that soon enough the scales will tip towards those with money once again. It’s part of his disbelief; there is no point to do this, for human nature will always prevail. It’s what the cause really is, to Jinki. The cause is to prevent human nature, to prevent power, greed, gluttony, all of the seven vices rule the universe, to subjugate everything else, but how do you stop humans from being human? They enslave the other races, the trolls from deep underground in Novus, the flites in Janus are pets and they never asked for it. Mother Nature, a term that Jinki doesn’t understand the origin of, is for harvesting.
In his dreamscape, it is only him. He basks in the soft feel of grass and the majesty of the mountains and revels in being the only living being in the dream. That is, until he blinks open his eyes and sees Minho staring unashamedly at him.
Blood is still underneath his fingernails on his ship, but in the dreamscape it isn’t. His clothes here are pristine, are clothes from when his parents were still alive.
“Good morning,” Minho says with a soft smile, the first beautiful thing Jinki has seen in forever.
Jinki surges forward without thinking, cupping Minho’s face in his hands before kissing him. It’s involuntary, and he bites Minho’s lip gently when he feels hands settle on his back. He sucks on it as Minho’s hands start pushing up his shirt, settling firm and warm on his skin and pulls away.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, watching Minho’s eyelashes flutter. Taesun’s are longer, but Minho’s are enchanting as they are and his eyes are hazed behind them.
“Nothing to be sorry about,” Minho replies, breath ghosting onto Jinki’s face.
“I shouldn’t,” Jinki says, leaning forward again so their lips are touching. “I really, really shouldn’t.”
“You should,” Minho teases, licking Jinki’s lips. “We were meant to be.”
He presses forward to kiss him sweet, and remembers those words passing his parents lips and pulls away abruptly. Minho stares after him, lips redder and swollen, but Jinki doesn’t let his gaze linger for long.
“I refuse to believe that,” Jinki says, dazed. “Nothing is meant to be.”
His hand is on his holster, blaster ready to be used for the hundredth or more time in the past few days. He should take it out and train it on Minho, because this should not be, because this will not end well. Love is not healthy, love is a distraction and love can bring you down. Minho gazes back at him calmly, sitting on crossed legs.
“Who would cry if you died?” Jinki finds himself asking, words coming out without permission.
“My family. My teachers, the lady down the street who gives me fruit for a smile, some childhood friends. You.”
“I wouldn’t cry. I don’t cry anymore.”
“You cried for your parents. It was all over the news, every holo had a clip of you crying watching the execution.”
“Think I don’t know that?” Jinki hisses, stepping forward. His blaster is kissing Minho’s forehead, though it trembles in his grip. He wonders if there would be blood, although blaster shots are more electrical than physical. “I’ve seen enough pitying gazes to know that everyone, every human, specie and plant has seen that fucking clip.”
“You humanized it. You made everyone feel for you, the boy who lost his parents to something greater than anyone can imagine.”
He tosses the blaster to the side, pulls his fist back and clocks Minho. His head jerks back, curls flying everywhere, and he lands backwards onto the grass. “I’m coming to find you,” Jinki growls.
Minho smiles at the sky. Today, Jinki has no clouds above them but the sky isn’t clear blue. There’s something wrong with it, but he doesn’t know how to change it. “I told you, we were meant to be.” He disappears and leaves an indentation of his shape in the grass.
Behind him, Jinki’s mom clucks her tongue.
“He’s no good for you.”
“No worse than you,” he hisses, turning, a hand going to an empty holster.
“Aw, look at our little boy, all grown up. Too bad he can’t get past our death,” his dad says, linking arms with his mom.
They smiled like that in the fire. Jinki looks out towards the grass and starts searching for his blaster. It’s not too far away and his parents watch him with either sympathy or concern.
“Are you okay, Jinki? We haven’t seen you smile these past years.”
“I’m fine,” he grinds out, fingers curling around the blaster, settling too comfortably on the trigger. He shoots, and they smile with love as they, too, disappear.
Before finding Taesun, he stops by Jonghyun’s quarters. He answers with mussed hair and Jinki sighs and gives him a pointed look. Jonghyun replies with a sheepish smile and edges out, closing the door behind him.
“He’s asleep,” he says by way of excuse. “Didn’t want to chance waking him.”
“I- I’m happy for you, I really am. I wanted to apologize again.”
Jonghyun hasn’t grown for years, but his hugs are as they always are: sudden and warm. Tentatively, Jinki hugs him back. “You have this habit of doing things by yourself, you know? Like finding this ship, getting it back into shape and finding us all.”
“I do not.” His reply is muffled in Jonghyun’s shoulder.
“You do, you really, really do. Something’s bothering you and you’re not sharing it.”
Jinki pulls back, startled. Jonghyun taps the side of his head with two fingers. “I notice things. I am your First Officer.”
“I- it’s nothing.”
“You’re not resting anymore.”
“Nightmares,” Jinki challenges, to which Jonghyun scoffs.
“I think not, but if this thing you need to do on Novus VI with the Taesun kid helps, I’ll do anything I can.”
Jinki raises a hand to rest at the back of Jonghyun’s neck and squeezes carefully. “You’re my best friend.”
Jonghyun copies the move. “Best friends for life.”
“We gravity-hop as soon as we can.”
“Of course. I’ll pass the message on.”
“Jjong?” Jinki asks, voice a little tremulous. “I hope you’re happy.”
“We both deserve it.”
Jinki finds Taesun in the mess hall. With fresh supplies, the food isn’t terrible, but they will all be sick of it before they get to Novus VI. He sets his tray in front of Taesun, who immediately looks guilty. “You’re not in trouble,” Jinki says bemused as he sits down. “Just wanted to chat.”
“Uh, okay, yes, yes sir.”
“You’re alone?” Jinki glances around at the mess hall in which, though sparsely filled, no one was sitting alone. “Have trouble fitting in?”
“Ever since becoming an officer, it’s gotten harder.”
Jinki leans back in his seat and breathes out slowly. “I’m sorry for that.”
“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Captain.”
“We’re both off-duty right now,” Jinki says with what he hopes is a charming smile. “No need for such formalities.”
“...Sir?”
“Taesun,” Jinki tries again. “Are you happy here, on this ship?”
“The Shining Star is a magnificent ship, sir.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Such a young man, Jinki can’t help but think looking at him. What has he been through, what has he seen? It’s hard to imagine him having experienced anything and Jinki questions why, exactly, Taesun joined the rebellion. He has to have had a purpose for joining, because he has no background in the rebellion. He joined of his own volition.
“I’m happy to be making a change.”
“And you believe that,” Jinki flatly replies, before shaking his head and the question forming on Taesun’s lips away. “Never mind that.” He sighs staring at Taesun. “I’ll just get to the point. I want what you know about Minho.”
Taesun’s face turns blank. It’s not a good blank face; Jinki knows blank faces, and this is too carefully constructed. With the slightest push, it will come crumbling down. “What about him?”
“What was he like, when he was young?” It seems fair to Jinki that if Minho has seen vids of him crying at his parents execution that he can have stories of his childhood. He wants to know all the embarrassing stuff, about snotty noses and gross pimples. He wants to know about crushes and his parents, what his relationship with his sister was like- really, Jinki should know how to be honest to himself by now. He wants to know every single detail about Minho because Minho has started to obsess him in a dangerous way. It’s why he’s going to Novus VI. It’s to rid himself of this obsession.
“He was always honest and-” There it is, the crumbling of the blank face. “Sir, I don’t think I can talk about it. We- we were best friends, and I left. I don’t feel comfortable sharing his secrets.”
“Ah. I know what this is about.” It’s about being a dreamer. Taesun must know about it then. “And I know. About the dreams? I know, so don’t worry about that, it’s not what I want to know. I want to know how you know each other and what happened.”
Taesun looks both relieved and crushed. “Y-you know? About dreams?”
He nods. “Yes. I do. This is not something we will be discussing ever, though, so if you could please?”
“Well,” Taesun continues, frowning. “On Novus VI, dreamers used to be hunted for sport. This was centuries ago, but it’s part of how the dreamers on Novus VI have become so good at hiding. All the other dreamers across the universe don’t have the same experience. I’m sure there are hundreds, thousands of dreamers on Novus VI, because a teacher will appear to those who discover their ability.”
“You know this how?”
Taesun gives him a ‘duh’ look. It’s the closest to be treated as just a friend Jinki’s felt in a while, if Minho’s not included. Almost as though bidden, the memory of Minho’s breath brushing over his skin like a caress comes to mind. “We were best friends.”
“Were. What happened?”
He shrugs. “His sister was killed. Minho’d already been in training for years already, but this nearly sent him crazy. He- he did things he shouldn’t have.”
“I know he burned the capital building and more down. Don’t worry about it.”
Taesun shakes his head and pushes his tray to the middle of the long table. “That’s not it. He had a huge fight with his teacher and he disappeared for- a few months, at least. When he came back, he said that the rebellion wouldn’t accept him and that he was back for good. Not soon after, I enlisted and was accepted.”
“Who did he find?”
Another shrug. “I don’t know. Minho doesn’t to talk about when he was missing.”
Jinki sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Anything else you can tell me.”
“Uh, can I- can I ask something, first?”
Jinki gives a short nod, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. “Go ahead.”
“How- why did you know about Minho?”
He inhales deeply and exhales slowly. “That’s not something I’m ready to tell you.”
“Then,” Taesun persists, leaning forward and over the table. “Why do you want to find him?”
The kid is earnest. It’s the best word for the look in his eyes and the determined set of his eyebrows. Jinki stands and rests a hand briefly on his shoulder. “I need him on this ship, and you’re going to help me with that.”
“I am?” Taesun blinks, sitting back in his seat. “You need him?”
“We’ll be leaving pretty soon,” Jinki says, walking away but pausing to make sure he’s heard. “It’ll just be me and you on Novus VI, so prepare yourself.”
“Y-yes sir!”
He returns to his room and sits at his desk. The emptiness rarely gets to him, but when it does, the loneliness is vicious. Leeteuk, one of the highest ranked captains, had sent him a message some cycles ago about filing reports and had given him a knowing look through the vid. He has to finish reports from when they were back in Novus galaxy, and logs and approvals and just- the list is non-ending. His parents worked together to get through this all and had called it the most rewarding part of their job. Jinki thinks they were lying, but he doesn’t have someone to share the load with.
1.5 → 2
a/n OKAY SO I added in my italics bc I hadn't realized they were missing before, and the post was too large! So I'm removing the latter half of the last scene and creating a post just for it and will expand on it a little more. sorry about the mistake! 65k characters is just not enough