A Measure of Sacrifice
Title: A Measure of Sacrifice (7/8)
Authors: butterflyweb and rawthornewrites
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: GD/Top, BaeRi
Warnings: Character death, violence
Summary: Seunghyun passes out at 8:14, Seoul time. By the time he wakes, at 10:32, the fifty-six Allied Military outposts on Earth and eleven out of fifteen satellites in space have been blown to smithereens.
Author's Note: This is a follow up to A Measure of Salvation, however, if you prefer the ambiguity of that fic's ending, by all means, it can still stand alone. Banner made by the fantastic and talented atenais_pala
It doesn't take a scientist to know that Earth's orbit is full of junk. Satellites, rocks and pieces of shuttle craft turn in permanent rotation, 365 days a year, day or night. There's not enough to make launching the fighters a perilous experiment, but Seunghyun still finds himself clutching the controls as the bomber makes its way out into the black. Free of Earth's gravitational pull, they assemble in a haphazard formation of military aircraft, transport vessel and private jets, all armed to the teeth. All waiting to be blown to bits by the armada showing up on their radars.
Seunghyun considers a quick, nose dive turn and a flooring the gas, but that wouldn't profit anyone but the Nabu and they're the last people he wants to please. He sticks to his guns, waiting for the General's signal to attack.
The black is thick and perfect around them as the radio crackles to life with Daesung's detached voice. "Alpha-squadron, attack on my mark." He sends his ships in first: seventeen pieces of metal armed with nukes and missiles, like live bombs propelled into the unknown. Seunghyun finds himself hoping his pixelated friend has made the right calculations, the last thing he wants is to find himself getting closely acquainted to a nuclear explosion.
All changes of interrogation are put to rest as the Nabu fire on the ships, missing less than a third. Seunghyun grips his controls. "Come on, come on..." Just like that, the adrenaline is back, swift on the heels of his panic.
One ship goes boom like a mandala in the sky. The Nabu keep coming.
Daesung's voice breaks the silence again. "Mark."
He swears under his breath, palms sweaty around the controls, pulling into a rough turn. They spiral out like a shattered fractal, Seunghyun's breath too loud in his ears as he goes into a roll. Guns at the ready, Daesung's voice a steady presence in his ear, they break formation, tumbling like aimless asteroids into the enemy line.
What must be hundreds of thousands of miles of distance is covered in mere seconds, the second wave of attacking crafts taking advantage of momentary confusion to fire their missiles.
The Nabu ships loom in front of them like Scylla and Charybdis, waiting to swallow whole whoever crosses their path and Seunghyun forces the yaw, feeling dread creep up his spine. The familiar sensation of the cockpit being too small, his chest too tight, and he grits his teeth against it. Opens fire.
They're vulnerable behind sheets of glass and metal, their suits flameproof but useless against the armaments the Nabu are carrying. Not that it will matter. They're packing as much firepower and they're faster. It's important to cling to the silver lining - all the more so when their numbers start dropping like flies.
Seunghyun holds fast, dodging between ships in search of a clear angle. Their mission is simple enough: provoke the Nabu to make a mistake. Delay them and knock out their engines. It's not so easy to wound the damn beasts, as it turns out. Their shields go up after the first few lucky hits. Canons go up like claws and every bit as fierce.
"Beta-squadron is launched. Cover fire pending. Hang in there, Alpha." Daesung sounds concerned. Seunghyun can't help feel the computer has picked his moment well to lose faith in the human race.
Or maybe he's justified after all, Seunghyun muses, barely dodging out of a friendly craft as it spins out of control in a fireball. "Fucking--"
Sweat trickles down his back, heart hammering against his rib cage as it tries to absorb the shock, hands clutching the controls to still their shaking. He's a fucking mess, too much so to be operational in a time of peace, maybe, but in war, he's one more body to postpone their defeat.
"Look sharp on your six, Alpha," Lee's voice bites into his ear, her small craft ahead of his, emptying cannons with a single-minded fervor. She's a machine built for this kind of thing, much like Seunghyun was an eternity ago. He's since become defective. Lee doesn't give him time to feel sorry for himself. "Are you with me?"
"Still kicking," he drawls, collecting scattered pieces of himself before they can become lost in the black. "Take point. I'll follow." It's as good a plan as any and it saves him the hardship of having to think for himself.
Lee doesn't question him. Seunghyun imagines her in another life, with this battle as no more than a drill. She would've loved the chance to show him up, to prove her skill to a veteran. She would have been so fucking annoying to deal with. As it is, he's just happy she's on their side, aiming her fire where the Nabu are most vulnerable.
One of the heavy-duty bombers lights up like a Christmas tree. Seunghyun imagines the heat of the blast on his face. "How the fuck did you do that?" Without even firing a missile, no less.
"They've got an armory at the stern, above the engines," Lee answers in clipped, short tones. "Your Nabu friend told me about it."
On the ground, he'd protest that he has a name, that's he's the same friend she excluded purely by virtue of his race. In the moment he nods grimly and switches on his targeting computer, pitching forward to slip under her craft, taking aim.
It's easier to focus with someone to keep him clear of enemy fire and slowly, the feel of the chase comes back to him. He remembers the single-minded determination, the puzzling frustration when he can't get a lock on his target, the adrenaline rush when he finds the chink in his enemy's armor. He remembers how it feels to forget the people inside the enemy craft, the lives taken the moment he presses down and fires his guns.
Lee gives a loud, congratulatory yell. "Pull up, hotshot. Do it now!"
The Nabu ship doesn't blow up like hers did, but it does alter course, brutally, suddenly tipping into its neighbor like an out of control toy car. It doesn't help that the long, sweeping lines of the Nabu design make their vessels look far from real. It makes it easier to think of it as a sim, as guns versus oversized space boats, instead of picturing Youngbae's brethren as they burn.
The thought sits sick in his stomach and Seunghyun forces his mind from it. It's dangerous, to think too much in such a small space, to identify with your enemy. It's how you go half mad, shut up in the med bay and vomiting at the sight of blood.
He's not going to make the same mistake twice. He can't afford to, not with Jiyong sitting, vulnerable, in a ship not far from him.
The whole thing feels like it's lasted years, decades, but Seunghyun knows it to have been a matter of minutes, excess information assailing him from every side. He breaks from Lee's side, covering two crafts as they come under fire from the Nabu armada. It's a teamwork thing, in the end, his missile exploding the one on their six so that they might make a lucky shot. It's a game, like playing sports.
He shoots. They score.
"Keep it up, keep it up, don't break off them--" Lee's order are rapid fire in his ear, her ship curving sharply, the fleet turning and rising as one, like a flock of birds. Exploiting every weakness the Nabu ship shows, even as their sister ships fall apart in firey pieces around them.
Seunghyun takes the order, focusing on performing to the best of his abilities. He isn't young anymore, he won't kid himself that he can outperform the rookies. But he can watch their backs.
The Nabu can't be underestimated. Even in their confusion, they still outnumber the humans three to one. They came here expecting an easy win, their ships loaded with nukes and cruelty.
In a moment of weakness, he wishes Jiyong was at his back. He needs something as blind as the Ahma's faith in him to keep him centered, to give him strength. They're all that's standing between Earth and the Nabu, the last line of defense against their race's destruction. It's too much for any being to take on and Seunghyun is no exception.
The craft beside him erupts in flames, a blare of static replacing him on the com sys, the shock of the blast pushing Lee's ship off course and nearly into his nose.
He didn't see it coming. He got cocky.
"What the hell was that--"
The radio erupts with sound, surprise and confusion bleeding through into Seunghyun's ear. He almost wants to reach in and turn it off, but silence is not what he needs right now. He pulls his craft into the melee, hiding in plain sight from the panic that threatens to swallow him up.
"We need that ship in here, Daesung-"
"Not yet." The computer's voice books no room for argument. "My calculations--"
"Fuck the numbers, they're regrouping!" Lee shouts into the com, her craft going into a sharp roll, narrowly avoid a fresh hail of fire. "We need that ship now."
Seunghyun sees it pop up on his radar screen, uncloaking a few clicks right of the thick of the fight. Their bomber does what it's been told to do. Missiles fire at the Nabu ship, narrowly but predictably missing it every time.
There is no return fire. With a little bit of luck, the Nabu will think it's one of theirs getting shot at and nothing else. With a little bit of luck, Daesung will detonate the thing before they lose any more men.
"Everyone listen up," Lee orders sharply, bringing her craft up in a turnabout, Seunghyun pulling up sharp to follow. "Get clear of the blast, but don't draw them after. We want those motherfuckers still sitting pretty when she blows, got it?"
The fighters on their flank swoop in on the starboard side of the dummy craft, firing full blast at the oncoming Nabu ships, using their reluctance to fire near their own to execute a last strike.
For a ragtag bunch of survivors on a suicide mission, this is some of the best flying Seunghyun's seen in a long time. He empties a round in mock fire at the descending Nabu ship, pushing aside memories of the metal slabs and cold cells encased in its belly. He makes sure not to damage the thing, his hits knocking against enemy shields and ricocheting into the black at half-speed. Harmless.
A single fighter disappears off his radar, one more friendly going down in a blaze of glory. It's to be expected, war is hell and casualties are numerous when you're outnumbered and outgunned. What's less predictable is the way his screen wavers, briefly, as the fighter goes down.
He thinks nothing of it, assuming it's a glitch, as they start to spread out through the enemy force, like ants crawling between the falling corpses. It's only as they start to double back that he hears Lee's voice.
"Shit. EMP knocked our dummy off the grid. It's drifting blind."
"What?" Seunghyun snaps, gaze flicking to the grid, his chest tight with the panic that threatens. "Can Daesung get it back?"
"I'm not a miracle worker," Daesung retorts over the air, a waver in his computer-generated vocals. "If it's not online, I can't detonate it."
Their secret weapon - their only weapon, if they're being honest - is offline. Seunghyun sees the knock-on effects in his mind's eye. Without anything to hold them back, the Nabu fleet can continue to advance. Maybe one, two more ships will fall to fighter fire. Maybe another two will get shot down by the bomber. Jiyong and the rest of the crew will be killed. Earth will be forfeit.
It's not an option.
Lee's voice crackles through his radio. "How's your fuel gauge, soldier?"
"I've got enough for a trip back to Nabu central." Seunghyun doesn't hesitate. This must be done. He didn't sign up for the mission because he thought it would be easy or painless. He promised to come back but he imagines Jiyong will understand.
At the very least, he can give him a world where he can have his freedom. It's all he has to give.
"Choi, switch to com channel 86 and follow me." Lee's voice books no argument, her craft separating from the pack, waiting for Seunghyun to follow.
It feels like now would be a good time to tell Jiyong everything he didn't get to say before they left solid ground, but there's no time to wast and anyway. Jiyong knows everything already. He's in his blood. They share a single heart.
"It was an honor, Pinocchio," he chuckles, no humor in the moment as he disconnects from the open channel. Lee's ship is a single red light, flanking his side. "Just cover me and I'll finish the job."
She's silent on the com for a moment before she speaks, her voice measured. Softer than he's heard her before.
"You're in love with that Ahma, aren't you." Lee doesn't give him time to respond. "I was in love, too, you know. I was married, before the Nabu dropped out of the sky."
It's a strange moment for confessions, but not for empathy. Seunghyun sighs. "I'm sorry." The Nabu have fucked up a lot of things by coming here, but he's been with them every step of the way, always doing the wrong thing.
"Yeah, me too. That's why this sucks, you know? I had a good life. I used to... wake up early just so I could make breakfast for them."
Her voice wavers over the com, the Nabu ships looming ahead of them as they approach.
"Bom would...she would always wear the most ridiculous pajamas. All of that cutesy shit with the bunnies and the kittens and Dara and I would tease her constantly..." She clears her throat. "Here's how this is going to work. You'll divert their fire without getting shot down while I go in. I'm almost out of firepower anyway."
Seunghyun frowns. "This isn't your fight, you're not--"
"I lost them. You still have your family. So do us all a favor and get your ass out of this alive, okay? You're my second in command. The Allied military is going to look to your for leadership. And not to blow my own horn, but you're gonna have some seriously big shoes to fill."
He grips the controls. "Lee, you can't just--"
"I can. I am. I'm..." She laughs softly. "I'm gong to see them. I'm going to my girls as a hero. So don't you fucking let me down, Choi, alright?"
She's determined. It's not a cop out, he tells himself. She's twenty-something years old, a General and a suicide bomber all wrapped in one, but her determination has nothing to do with any of those. It comes from someplace deeper. Seunghyun identifies it as despair and grief and knows he never wants to experience it.
"Good luck," he murmurs, gripping the controls hard as they come back in range of the Nabu ships.
There's been a little shuffle, a little movement, but not enough to render their solution useless. Fire scatters their way, Seunghyun swooping low to attract it as they break formation. Lee is humming on the radio channel as she holds her ground, swaying to avoid being hit. She is single-minded in her purpose, the weight of it more a release than a bond. He won't let her down, he tells himself. He won't.
Lee accelerates, speed climbing as she burns the last of her thrusters, careening towards the the Nabu ship floating dead in space. Waiting for her.
Seunghyun doubles back, the temperature suddenly rising as the Nabu concentrate their fire and he finds himself hoping her ship'll get hit before impact. He prays for a swift death and fights to survive like she made him promise he would.
It's maybe a second later that he feels the explosion. There's nothing to hear out in the black, no roaring fires, no wave of destruction, but it's impossible to miss it all the same. The shock wave knocks him off course, punching a hole in his engines.
The blossom of fire and destruction is stark against the black, brilliant enough to make his eyes water as he attempts to shield them, something too tight in his chest.
A hand strikes out at the com sys, the channel filling with a wave of static and frantic voices and cheers, flames consuming the Nabu fleet. Daesung swears at him, tells him he's a stupid, illogical, gods-damned ape with no brain, but even he sounds relieved. It's a distant thought but, dimly, he realizes Lee's logic. He was meant to come back. She, on the other hand, had no one waiting.
He fights to stabilize his craft, to get her steady, at least. "I'm going to need a towing service. Where's our second wave? Get them in there before the Nabu regroup--"
"It's done," Daesung interrupts. "Back-up is on the way. Hang in there, human."
He slumps in his seat at the reassurance, fingers curling reflexively into fists on his knee. "Dae, are they...the Ahmas, they made it through?"
"We're all alive and well and wanting to punch you in the nuts for the move you just pulled. Heroic sonofabitch. You're out of commission for the rest of the game, in case you didn't know. I'll bring the bomber down when you come in range. We'll do a barn-swallow at Mark one-eyeball." For a computer, it's uncanny how human, how exhausted Daesung sounds. "Sit tight for another two minutes and sixteen seconds."
"10-4, Pinocchio," he replies, taking a deep breath, eyes falling closed for the barest second. He's not sure he dared to blink since he broke atmo.
Clutching at his harness absently, he opens his eyes to take in the destruction. Their salvation. Thinks of Lee and the women she lost, the second chance she gave him. That she gave them all. He won't waste it.
*
Jiyong holds him for the longest time after he spills out of the fighter, his knees jelly and his hands shaking. The battle rages on, the bomber holding its ground because it isn't needed. The Nabu are on the retreat, their invincible armada ruined.
"I thought I lost you," the Ahma breathes into his throat, half-sobbing the words. "When we saw you go back with the General, I thought... I thought you weren't coming back."
Guilt crashes into him, unrelenting as he holds the other man closer, fingers curling into the thin material of his flightsuit.
"I'm here," he tells him, kissing his cheek, his hair, fervent. "I promise, I'm not going anywhere." He owes him that. He owes Lee.
"Gods, you're soaked," Jiyong laughs, sniffling back his tears. "You should... change. Or something. Before you catch cold." For all his worthy advice, he doesn't shift to let him go. Not until they both feel Seungri's presence in the cargo bay.
The younger Ahma looks haggard, dark circles under his eyes. "I'm going to head down planetside and get Bae. Is that okay?"
Seunghyun reaches to catch his arm, pulling him closer and into a tight hug of his own, uncaring of the affectionate display in the midst of his crew. They've made it through alive and intact. It's something to celebrate.
He presses a kiss to Seungri's hair, noting the Ahma's half-smile as he lets him go.
"It's fine. Go get him. We'll need all the help we can get when we board, best to have someone familiar with the tech."
"Does that mean you're in charge now?" Seungri clarifies, eyes piercing him to the core. They don't have to ask confirmation, permission from anyone. They've earned the right to decide for themselves.
Seunghyun nods. "Bring Bae up here."
The Ahma doesn't need to be told twice, swift, alien movements carrying him down the small bay to speak to one of the technicians - about a ship, Seunghyun assumes. They must have something they can spare now that the tide has finally turned in their favor.
Jiyong kisses his shoulder. "Is it over?"
It brings his attention back to where it should be in this moment, taking Jiyong's face between his hands and kissing him warmly.
"It's over, aheri. We'll tie up loose ends and reconvene with the Allies, see where we go from here." They've gone through hell for this unlikely victory. What they do next is the easy part.
Seunghyun feels ready to rebuild, reclaim. He's spent the last eleven months of his life waiting for this, barely daring to imagine the possibility that he might succeed. It's done. The dreams will go away now. There will be no more prophecy, no more fear of doomsday growing nearer and nearer.
Daesung materializes out of thin air, looking smug. "The enemy has been neutralized, sir. We're ready to start boarding on your order... sir--Gods, but I love the sound of that."
Seunghyun cheerfully gives him the middle finger.
"Let's finish it then." He smiles at Jiyong. "Coming with me this time?"
Jiyong grins at him, eyes bright and full of warmth as they meet his. "If only make sure you're not going to be....Daesung, what was the human phrase again?"
"A royal dumbass?"
"Yes, that."
Seunghyun slides a look to the pixelated hologram, torn between amusement and frustration. It dawns on him that this is what family means: the knowledge that they're there, on his shoulder like a mosquito bite; that it feels good to rub it and painful at the same time. They're a part of him.
He tugs on Jiyong's hand. "Suit up. We'll need guns, just in case. Daesung, you can--"
"Tap into their electronics and vent the air, yes, I know," he replies with a put upon sigh. "And don't worry, I'll make sure to lock up the airlocks before you two lovebirds head down there for a stroll. I don't have to be told how to do my job."
Seunghyun snorts, snapping a mock salute at him. "Noted. We'll be loaded up and ready in ten. Have the others do the same, and make sure Seungri is cleared to break atmo."
Everything goes smoothly. There are no complications. Jiyong strokes his back as they wait to come up on the Nabu ship, his patience infinite now that they're out of immediate danger. The others go in first, checking pressure and O2 levels as they comb their surroundings for survivors.
Seunghyun shoulders his gun, stepping through into the foreign ship with his lover by his side. "This is becoming a habit... us going on enemy ships, I mean. Wonder if it constitutes treason."
Jiyong twists his mouth at him, a gun in the hand by his side, amusement sparkling in his eyes. "I'm not sure it's the same thing, aheri. Or should I say General."
"Aheri," he picks, making a face at him. "Please. It's prettier." It's also a foreign word in an alien language at a time when being human is under threat from an alien force. Granted, it's a different species of alien, but humankind has never been particularly good about that sort of distinction.
His lover smiles at him for it, breathes "good choice," as he stands up on tiptoe to kiss him. They part in the hollow belly of an enemy ship and Jiyong turns away from him, still smiling, still so very happy.
There is no sound of a weapon being fired. At least, Seunghyun doesn't hear it. Much later, all he'll remember will be the way Jiyong's body suddenly folded into itself, crumbling to the floor like a house of cards. A papier maché version of himself. Later, he won't be able to forget the way scarlet seeped into soft blonde, the stain spreading over polished floors in a widening pool.
The way he screamed.
It must have been a high, piercing sound or a low enough growl to stop an evolved, superior creature like the Nabu in its tracks. It must have surprised him because the bastard barely flinched as Seunghyun emptied his ammo into his chest.
He'll always remember the weight of Jiyong in his arms, bones suddenly so heavy as he pulled him from the ground. As he shook him.
"No, no...no, Jiyong, please--" his voice sounds alien to him, crimson staining his hands as he touches his hair, as he curls over his body with a cry of utter anguish.
"Please, please, aheri--"
Jiyong doesn't answer. His eyes, unseeing and lifeless, gaze up through the hull of a foreign ship at foreign stars.
Jiyong is gone.
Authors: butterflyweb and rawthornewrites
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: GD/Top, BaeRi
Warnings: Character death, violence
Summary: Seunghyun passes out at 8:14, Seoul time. By the time he wakes, at 10:32, the fifty-six Allied Military outposts on Earth and eleven out of fifteen satellites in space have been blown to smithereens.
Author's Note: This is a follow up to A Measure of Salvation, however, if you prefer the ambiguity of that fic's ending, by all means, it can still stand alone. Banner made by the fantastic and talented atenais_pala
It doesn't take a scientist to know that Earth's orbit is full of junk. Satellites, rocks and pieces of shuttle craft turn in permanent rotation, 365 days a year, day or night. There's not enough to make launching the fighters a perilous experiment, but Seunghyun still finds himself clutching the controls as the bomber makes its way out into the black. Free of Earth's gravitational pull, they assemble in a haphazard formation of military aircraft, transport vessel and private jets, all armed to the teeth. All waiting to be blown to bits by the armada showing up on their radars.
Seunghyun considers a quick, nose dive turn and a flooring the gas, but that wouldn't profit anyone but the Nabu and they're the last people he wants to please. He sticks to his guns, waiting for the General's signal to attack.
The black is thick and perfect around them as the radio crackles to life with Daesung's detached voice. "Alpha-squadron, attack on my mark." He sends his ships in first: seventeen pieces of metal armed with nukes and missiles, like live bombs propelled into the unknown. Seunghyun finds himself hoping his pixelated friend has made the right calculations, the last thing he wants is to find himself getting closely acquainted to a nuclear explosion.
All changes of interrogation are put to rest as the Nabu fire on the ships, missing less than a third. Seunghyun grips his controls. "Come on, come on..." Just like that, the adrenaline is back, swift on the heels of his panic.
One ship goes boom like a mandala in the sky. The Nabu keep coming.
Daesung's voice breaks the silence again. "Mark."
He swears under his breath, palms sweaty around the controls, pulling into a rough turn. They spiral out like a shattered fractal, Seunghyun's breath too loud in his ears as he goes into a roll. Guns at the ready, Daesung's voice a steady presence in his ear, they break formation, tumbling like aimless asteroids into the enemy line.
What must be hundreds of thousands of miles of distance is covered in mere seconds, the second wave of attacking crafts taking advantage of momentary confusion to fire their missiles.
The Nabu ships loom in front of them like Scylla and Charybdis, waiting to swallow whole whoever crosses their path and Seunghyun forces the yaw, feeling dread creep up his spine. The familiar sensation of the cockpit being too small, his chest too tight, and he grits his teeth against it. Opens fire.
They're vulnerable behind sheets of glass and metal, their suits flameproof but useless against the armaments the Nabu are carrying. Not that it will matter. They're packing as much firepower and they're faster. It's important to cling to the silver lining - all the more so when their numbers start dropping like flies.
Seunghyun holds fast, dodging between ships in search of a clear angle. Their mission is simple enough: provoke the Nabu to make a mistake. Delay them and knock out their engines. It's not so easy to wound the damn beasts, as it turns out. Their shields go up after the first few lucky hits. Canons go up like claws and every bit as fierce.
"Beta-squadron is launched. Cover fire pending. Hang in there, Alpha." Daesung sounds concerned. Seunghyun can't help feel the computer has picked his moment well to lose faith in the human race.
Or maybe he's justified after all, Seunghyun muses, barely dodging out of a friendly craft as it spins out of control in a fireball. "Fucking--"
Sweat trickles down his back, heart hammering against his rib cage as it tries to absorb the shock, hands clutching the controls to still their shaking. He's a fucking mess, too much so to be operational in a time of peace, maybe, but in war, he's one more body to postpone their defeat.
"Look sharp on your six, Alpha," Lee's voice bites into his ear, her small craft ahead of his, emptying cannons with a single-minded fervor. She's a machine built for this kind of thing, much like Seunghyun was an eternity ago. He's since become defective. Lee doesn't give him time to feel sorry for himself. "Are you with me?"
"Still kicking," he drawls, collecting scattered pieces of himself before they can become lost in the black. "Take point. I'll follow." It's as good a plan as any and it saves him the hardship of having to think for himself.
Lee doesn't question him. Seunghyun imagines her in another life, with this battle as no more than a drill. She would've loved the chance to show him up, to prove her skill to a veteran. She would have been so fucking annoying to deal with. As it is, he's just happy she's on their side, aiming her fire where the Nabu are most vulnerable.
One of the heavy-duty bombers lights up like a Christmas tree. Seunghyun imagines the heat of the blast on his face. "How the fuck did you do that?" Without even firing a missile, no less.
"They've got an armory at the stern, above the engines," Lee answers in clipped, short tones. "Your Nabu friend told me about it."
On the ground, he'd protest that he has a name, that's he's the same friend she excluded purely by virtue of his race. In the moment he nods grimly and switches on his targeting computer, pitching forward to slip under her craft, taking aim.
It's easier to focus with someone to keep him clear of enemy fire and slowly, the feel of the chase comes back to him. He remembers the single-minded determination, the puzzling frustration when he can't get a lock on his target, the adrenaline rush when he finds the chink in his enemy's armor. He remembers how it feels to forget the people inside the enemy craft, the lives taken the moment he presses down and fires his guns.
Lee gives a loud, congratulatory yell. "Pull up, hotshot. Do it now!"
The Nabu ship doesn't blow up like hers did, but it does alter course, brutally, suddenly tipping into its neighbor like an out of control toy car. It doesn't help that the long, sweeping lines of the Nabu design make their vessels look far from real. It makes it easier to think of it as a sim, as guns versus oversized space boats, instead of picturing Youngbae's brethren as they burn.
The thought sits sick in his stomach and Seunghyun forces his mind from it. It's dangerous, to think too much in such a small space, to identify with your enemy. It's how you go half mad, shut up in the med bay and vomiting at the sight of blood.
He's not going to make the same mistake twice. He can't afford to, not with Jiyong sitting, vulnerable, in a ship not far from him.
The whole thing feels like it's lasted years, decades, but Seunghyun knows it to have been a matter of minutes, excess information assailing him from every side. He breaks from Lee's side, covering two crafts as they come under fire from the Nabu armada. It's a teamwork thing, in the end, his missile exploding the one on their six so that they might make a lucky shot. It's a game, like playing sports.
He shoots. They score.
"Keep it up, keep it up, don't break off them--" Lee's order are rapid fire in his ear, her ship curving sharply, the fleet turning and rising as one, like a flock of birds. Exploiting every weakness the Nabu ship shows, even as their sister ships fall apart in firey pieces around them.
Seunghyun takes the order, focusing on performing to the best of his abilities. He isn't young anymore, he won't kid himself that he can outperform the rookies. But he can watch their backs.
The Nabu can't be underestimated. Even in their confusion, they still outnumber the humans three to one. They came here expecting an easy win, their ships loaded with nukes and cruelty.
In a moment of weakness, he wishes Jiyong was at his back. He needs something as blind as the Ahma's faith in him to keep him centered, to give him strength. They're all that's standing between Earth and the Nabu, the last line of defense against their race's destruction. It's too much for any being to take on and Seunghyun is no exception.
The craft beside him erupts in flames, a blare of static replacing him on the com sys, the shock of the blast pushing Lee's ship off course and nearly into his nose.
He didn't see it coming. He got cocky.
"What the hell was that--"
The radio erupts with sound, surprise and confusion bleeding through into Seunghyun's ear. He almost wants to reach in and turn it off, but silence is not what he needs right now. He pulls his craft into the melee, hiding in plain sight from the panic that threatens to swallow him up.
"We need that ship in here, Daesung-"
"Not yet." The computer's voice books no room for argument. "My calculations--"
"Fuck the numbers, they're regrouping!" Lee shouts into the com, her craft going into a sharp roll, narrowly avoid a fresh hail of fire. "We need that ship now."
Seunghyun sees it pop up on his radar screen, uncloaking a few clicks right of the thick of the fight. Their bomber does what it's been told to do. Missiles fire at the Nabu ship, narrowly but predictably missing it every time.
There is no return fire. With a little bit of luck, the Nabu will think it's one of theirs getting shot at and nothing else. With a little bit of luck, Daesung will detonate the thing before they lose any more men.
"Everyone listen up," Lee orders sharply, bringing her craft up in a turnabout, Seunghyun pulling up sharp to follow. "Get clear of the blast, but don't draw them after. We want those motherfuckers still sitting pretty when she blows, got it?"
The fighters on their flank swoop in on the starboard side of the dummy craft, firing full blast at the oncoming Nabu ships, using their reluctance to fire near their own to execute a last strike.
For a ragtag bunch of survivors on a suicide mission, this is some of the best flying Seunghyun's seen in a long time. He empties a round in mock fire at the descending Nabu ship, pushing aside memories of the metal slabs and cold cells encased in its belly. He makes sure not to damage the thing, his hits knocking against enemy shields and ricocheting into the black at half-speed. Harmless.
A single fighter disappears off his radar, one more friendly going down in a blaze of glory. It's to be expected, war is hell and casualties are numerous when you're outnumbered and outgunned. What's less predictable is the way his screen wavers, briefly, as the fighter goes down.
He thinks nothing of it, assuming it's a glitch, as they start to spread out through the enemy force, like ants crawling between the falling corpses. It's only as they start to double back that he hears Lee's voice.
"Shit. EMP knocked our dummy off the grid. It's drifting blind."
"What?" Seunghyun snaps, gaze flicking to the grid, his chest tight with the panic that threatens. "Can Daesung get it back?"
"I'm not a miracle worker," Daesung retorts over the air, a waver in his computer-generated vocals. "If it's not online, I can't detonate it."
Their secret weapon - their only weapon, if they're being honest - is offline. Seunghyun sees the knock-on effects in his mind's eye. Without anything to hold them back, the Nabu fleet can continue to advance. Maybe one, two more ships will fall to fighter fire. Maybe another two will get shot down by the bomber. Jiyong and the rest of the crew will be killed. Earth will be forfeit.
It's not an option.
Lee's voice crackles through his radio. "How's your fuel gauge, soldier?"
"I've got enough for a trip back to Nabu central." Seunghyun doesn't hesitate. This must be done. He didn't sign up for the mission because he thought it would be easy or painless. He promised to come back but he imagines Jiyong will understand.
At the very least, he can give him a world where he can have his freedom. It's all he has to give.
"Choi, switch to com channel 86 and follow me." Lee's voice books no argument, her craft separating from the pack, waiting for Seunghyun to follow.
It feels like now would be a good time to tell Jiyong everything he didn't get to say before they left solid ground, but there's no time to wast and anyway. Jiyong knows everything already. He's in his blood. They share a single heart.
"It was an honor, Pinocchio," he chuckles, no humor in the moment as he disconnects from the open channel. Lee's ship is a single red light, flanking his side. "Just cover me and I'll finish the job."
She's silent on the com for a moment before she speaks, her voice measured. Softer than he's heard her before.
"You're in love with that Ahma, aren't you." Lee doesn't give him time to respond. "I was in love, too, you know. I was married, before the Nabu dropped out of the sky."
It's a strange moment for confessions, but not for empathy. Seunghyun sighs. "I'm sorry." The Nabu have fucked up a lot of things by coming here, but he's been with them every step of the way, always doing the wrong thing.
"Yeah, me too. That's why this sucks, you know? I had a good life. I used to... wake up early just so I could make breakfast for them."
Her voice wavers over the com, the Nabu ships looming ahead of them as they approach.
"Bom would...she would always wear the most ridiculous pajamas. All of that cutesy shit with the bunnies and the kittens and Dara and I would tease her constantly..." She clears her throat. "Here's how this is going to work. You'll divert their fire without getting shot down while I go in. I'm almost out of firepower anyway."
Seunghyun frowns. "This isn't your fight, you're not--"
"I lost them. You still have your family. So do us all a favor and get your ass out of this alive, okay? You're my second in command. The Allied military is going to look to your for leadership. And not to blow my own horn, but you're gonna have some seriously big shoes to fill."
He grips the controls. "Lee, you can't just--"
"I can. I am. I'm..." She laughs softly. "I'm gong to see them. I'm going to my girls as a hero. So don't you fucking let me down, Choi, alright?"
She's determined. It's not a cop out, he tells himself. She's twenty-something years old, a General and a suicide bomber all wrapped in one, but her determination has nothing to do with any of those. It comes from someplace deeper. Seunghyun identifies it as despair and grief and knows he never wants to experience it.
"Good luck," he murmurs, gripping the controls hard as they come back in range of the Nabu ships.
There's been a little shuffle, a little movement, but not enough to render their solution useless. Fire scatters their way, Seunghyun swooping low to attract it as they break formation. Lee is humming on the radio channel as she holds her ground, swaying to avoid being hit. She is single-minded in her purpose, the weight of it more a release than a bond. He won't let her down, he tells himself. He won't.
Lee accelerates, speed climbing as she burns the last of her thrusters, careening towards the the Nabu ship floating dead in space. Waiting for her.
Seunghyun doubles back, the temperature suddenly rising as the Nabu concentrate their fire and he finds himself hoping her ship'll get hit before impact. He prays for a swift death and fights to survive like she made him promise he would.
It's maybe a second later that he feels the explosion. There's nothing to hear out in the black, no roaring fires, no wave of destruction, but it's impossible to miss it all the same. The shock wave knocks him off course, punching a hole in his engines.
The blossom of fire and destruction is stark against the black, brilliant enough to make his eyes water as he attempts to shield them, something too tight in his chest.
A hand strikes out at the com sys, the channel filling with a wave of static and frantic voices and cheers, flames consuming the Nabu fleet. Daesung swears at him, tells him he's a stupid, illogical, gods-damned ape with no brain, but even he sounds relieved. It's a distant thought but, dimly, he realizes Lee's logic. He was meant to come back. She, on the other hand, had no one waiting.
He fights to stabilize his craft, to get her steady, at least. "I'm going to need a towing service. Where's our second wave? Get them in there before the Nabu regroup--"
"It's done," Daesung interrupts. "Back-up is on the way. Hang in there, human."
He slumps in his seat at the reassurance, fingers curling reflexively into fists on his knee. "Dae, are they...the Ahmas, they made it through?"
"We're all alive and well and wanting to punch you in the nuts for the move you just pulled. Heroic sonofabitch. You're out of commission for the rest of the game, in case you didn't know. I'll bring the bomber down when you come in range. We'll do a barn-swallow at Mark one-eyeball." For a computer, it's uncanny how human, how exhausted Daesung sounds. "Sit tight for another two minutes and sixteen seconds."
"10-4, Pinocchio," he replies, taking a deep breath, eyes falling closed for the barest second. He's not sure he dared to blink since he broke atmo.
Clutching at his harness absently, he opens his eyes to take in the destruction. Their salvation. Thinks of Lee and the women she lost, the second chance she gave him. That she gave them all. He won't waste it.
*
Jiyong holds him for the longest time after he spills out of the fighter, his knees jelly and his hands shaking. The battle rages on, the bomber holding its ground because it isn't needed. The Nabu are on the retreat, their invincible armada ruined.
"I thought I lost you," the Ahma breathes into his throat, half-sobbing the words. "When we saw you go back with the General, I thought... I thought you weren't coming back."
Guilt crashes into him, unrelenting as he holds the other man closer, fingers curling into the thin material of his flightsuit.
"I'm here," he tells him, kissing his cheek, his hair, fervent. "I promise, I'm not going anywhere." He owes him that. He owes Lee.
"Gods, you're soaked," Jiyong laughs, sniffling back his tears. "You should... change. Or something. Before you catch cold." For all his worthy advice, he doesn't shift to let him go. Not until they both feel Seungri's presence in the cargo bay.
The younger Ahma looks haggard, dark circles under his eyes. "I'm going to head down planetside and get Bae. Is that okay?"
Seunghyun reaches to catch his arm, pulling him closer and into a tight hug of his own, uncaring of the affectionate display in the midst of his crew. They've made it through alive and intact. It's something to celebrate.
He presses a kiss to Seungri's hair, noting the Ahma's half-smile as he lets him go.
"It's fine. Go get him. We'll need all the help we can get when we board, best to have someone familiar with the tech."
"Does that mean you're in charge now?" Seungri clarifies, eyes piercing him to the core. They don't have to ask confirmation, permission from anyone. They've earned the right to decide for themselves.
Seunghyun nods. "Bring Bae up here."
The Ahma doesn't need to be told twice, swift, alien movements carrying him down the small bay to speak to one of the technicians - about a ship, Seunghyun assumes. They must have something they can spare now that the tide has finally turned in their favor.
Jiyong kisses his shoulder. "Is it over?"
It brings his attention back to where it should be in this moment, taking Jiyong's face between his hands and kissing him warmly.
"It's over, aheri. We'll tie up loose ends and reconvene with the Allies, see where we go from here." They've gone through hell for this unlikely victory. What they do next is the easy part.
Seunghyun feels ready to rebuild, reclaim. He's spent the last eleven months of his life waiting for this, barely daring to imagine the possibility that he might succeed. It's done. The dreams will go away now. There will be no more prophecy, no more fear of doomsday growing nearer and nearer.
Daesung materializes out of thin air, looking smug. "The enemy has been neutralized, sir. We're ready to start boarding on your order... sir--Gods, but I love the sound of that."
Seunghyun cheerfully gives him the middle finger.
"Let's finish it then." He smiles at Jiyong. "Coming with me this time?"
Jiyong grins at him, eyes bright and full of warmth as they meet his. "If only make sure you're not going to be....Daesung, what was the human phrase again?"
"A royal dumbass?"
"Yes, that."
Seunghyun slides a look to the pixelated hologram, torn between amusement and frustration. It dawns on him that this is what family means: the knowledge that they're there, on his shoulder like a mosquito bite; that it feels good to rub it and painful at the same time. They're a part of him.
He tugs on Jiyong's hand. "Suit up. We'll need guns, just in case. Daesung, you can--"
"Tap into their electronics and vent the air, yes, I know," he replies with a put upon sigh. "And don't worry, I'll make sure to lock up the airlocks before you two lovebirds head down there for a stroll. I don't have to be told how to do my job."
Seunghyun snorts, snapping a mock salute at him. "Noted. We'll be loaded up and ready in ten. Have the others do the same, and make sure Seungri is cleared to break atmo."
Everything goes smoothly. There are no complications. Jiyong strokes his back as they wait to come up on the Nabu ship, his patience infinite now that they're out of immediate danger. The others go in first, checking pressure and O2 levels as they comb their surroundings for survivors.
Seunghyun shoulders his gun, stepping through into the foreign ship with his lover by his side. "This is becoming a habit... us going on enemy ships, I mean. Wonder if it constitutes treason."
Jiyong twists his mouth at him, a gun in the hand by his side, amusement sparkling in his eyes. "I'm not sure it's the same thing, aheri. Or should I say General."
"Aheri," he picks, making a face at him. "Please. It's prettier." It's also a foreign word in an alien language at a time when being human is under threat from an alien force. Granted, it's a different species of alien, but humankind has never been particularly good about that sort of distinction.
His lover smiles at him for it, breathes "good choice," as he stands up on tiptoe to kiss him. They part in the hollow belly of an enemy ship and Jiyong turns away from him, still smiling, still so very happy.
There is no sound of a weapon being fired. At least, Seunghyun doesn't hear it. Much later, all he'll remember will be the way Jiyong's body suddenly folded into itself, crumbling to the floor like a house of cards. A papier maché version of himself. Later, he won't be able to forget the way scarlet seeped into soft blonde, the stain spreading over polished floors in a widening pool.
The way he screamed.
It must have been a high, piercing sound or a low enough growl to stop an evolved, superior creature like the Nabu in its tracks. It must have surprised him because the bastard barely flinched as Seunghyun emptied his ammo into his chest.
He'll always remember the weight of Jiyong in his arms, bones suddenly so heavy as he pulled him from the ground. As he shook him.
"No, no...no, Jiyong, please--" his voice sounds alien to him, crimson staining his hands as he touches his hair, as he curls over his body with a cry of utter anguish.
"Please, please, aheri--"
Jiyong doesn't answer. His eyes, unseeing and lifeless, gaze up through the hull of a foreign ship at foreign stars.
Jiyong is gone.