(no subject)
Title: Acts of Insurrection (17/20)
Authors: butterflyweb and nemesis_cry
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: OT5
Warning(s): violence, graphic sex, language
Summary: It's been six months since Changmin crashed on the remote planet known as Elysia. Five months since Yunho and Junsu found him. Four months since Jaejoong was shot by a man he and Yoochun both trusted. Now training as the Empress' men, former soldiers and former rebels have shed past allegiances in service of a common goal. But the tide is turning--and not in their favor.
Banner credit: luvmeanddespair
A/N: Thank you for all your wonderful feedback for the first part. We hope you enjoy this one!
Prequel: Acts of Contrition;
Acts of Insurrection: One; Two; Three; Four; Five; Six; Seven; Eight; Nine; Ten; Eleven; Twelve; Thirteen; Fourteen; Fifteen; Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
They're sore and bruised and dripping with blood, but they're determined. Or Yoochun is, and Junsu follows because that's what he's taught himself to do. He's needed, Yoochun needs him. That thought alone fuels strength into his limbs, helps him rise from the ground.
Alarms blare through the ship and he can imagine the confusion, the strain put on them. Whatever the damage, it won't last long. The Guard is too well prepared for this, Junsu knows. Yoochun doesn't.
Scarlet-stained fingertips brush his wrist, Yoochun's eyes dark with pain and that same stubborn resolve that's never left him. Junsu feels sick with the sudden knowledge that this could be the last time he sees the other man, the end of it. His mouth tightens, returning the gentle touch.
"Love you," he says softly, and if it sounds like giving up, if it sounds like damnation, he doesn't care. Yoochun's voice is ragged with his reply, eyes shutting briefly before focusing on the door.
"Forever and always, Su-ah."
Protocol in the Guard has many levels and many specifications. If the ship is grounded, you don't keep the enemy alive longer than you must. You don't allow liability and strife to coexist in your midst. Some of it is scripture and some of it is ancient tradition, but mostly, the Guard hasn't encountered a war in too long to know that you don't shoot POW's. In different circumstances, Junsu would be worried. As it is, he lies in wait and lets go of Yoochun's hand.
The lock on their door opens heavily, electronics laden with more important and unusual defects. He bites his lip and clenches his fists. Quick, he thinks, they have to be quick.
The door has barely opened enough to show the guard when they rush him, moving as fast as their wounds permit, pushing past the pain. Junsu grabs him by the collar before he has a chance to get the gun up, smashing his head off the door frame as hard as he can mange while Yoochun takes his weapon. Junsu sees only wide eyes and a young, bloody face before he turns away, Yoochun firing a single, fatal shot.
He stumbles slightly with the weapons kick, nothing more than sheer will keeping him moving. Junsu grabs ahold of his sleeve, taking the gun and firing another shot into the limp form. They're expecting to hear two gunshots. It'll buy them some time, but not much.
"Come on, let's move."
Yoochun is slow, flinching at the touch to his arm like it burns and Junsu chastises himself mentally for it. If they had more time, he'd apologize, he'd kiss his lover and repeat how sorry he is, how wrong everything has become and how it's all his fault. He doesn't waste his breath now, Yoochun doesn't need excuses, he needs to be taken to safety and that, Junsu thinks, he can do.
He peeks outside their cell cautiously but finds no trace of their jailers. Chaos has brought everyone to action stations.
"We'll need to take the lower levels to the secondary bay," he rationalizes, Yoochun nodding behind him with every word. The other man doesn't know the ship or the dangers, but they haven't come so far to die. Junsu takes his hand again and leads him out into a silent corridor. He used to jog around here with Changmin. The memory is bittersweet on his tongue and he pushes it back. No time for it now.
He tries to move silent but quick, the Guard-issue weapon heavy in his hand, listening for the clicks of bootheels on polished metal floors. A battle like this, the majority of the deployment would be towards the front and rear guns, command deck and primary bay. It doesn't mean they won't encounter stragglers, not by a long shot.
Punching the lift button, he raises the gun, training it on the interior. It opens to two soldiers, heads bent over a missive and Junsu fires without remorse, tugging Yoochun inside.
It's hard to avoid stepping on the dead bodies and he thinks he sees Yoochun give one a fierce kick. Not that it matters. Still dead, still a casualty of war, still the son of a mother who will get the Guard knocking on her door tomorrow morning to explain how her child died honorably.
Bullshit, he thinks and grabs the soldiers' guns, thrusting one at Yoochun and tucking the other in his waistband. Later, when he'll not be facing his own mortality and Yoochun's like this, he'll have time to repent for cold blooded murder. Right now, he pushes on, gun cocked and aimed when the doors slide open anew.
"Bottom of the ship, bottom of the ride," he mumbles to himself, the silence creeping in too close for comfort. "Engine room on the left." Smoke darkens the tiny window in the pressure-sealed doors. "Engines are offline... They're sitting ducks." This had better be Yunho's doing, he thinks, or the other man won't believe him.
The Acheron, offline? Never. It's not possible.
He grins before he remembers himself, adrenaline rushing through his veins. They move as quick as possible through the corridor, punching the controls for the bay door, weapons still at the ready as it slides open. Clear. They haven't exhausted primary reserves just yet. Good thing for them, a worse thing for those on the receiving end of the Acheron's fury.
"Come on, we can take one of the two man fighters," he hisses, well aware that neither of them are able enough to pilot a single craft.
Yoochun grabs his arm, suddenly dragging him down to the floor in a flutter of dark hair and singed metal.
It's not until he's lying flat on his back that he understands what's happening.
A volley of fire mars the wall behind him, swift and deadly.
"Not clear," Yoochun mutters, pulling himself to his elbows and gritting his teeth against pain so apparent on his features. Junsu follows, heart racing.
"Did you see how many?" he barely gets out, forgetting his instincts are sharpest in the cockpit, not out of it. On firm ground, Yoochun and the rebels have an advantage and thank the Gods for that.
"One, maybe two. He's not shouting so he's probably alone." It makes sense, Junsu doesn't contradict him. "Why would they leave someone behind?" Yoochun murmurs against the metal wall, swallowing steadying breath after steadying breath.
"New regs." It's the likeliest answer. The alternative is that he fucked up. Once when getting caught, once when leading them straight into enemy fire. Yunho would tell him to kick his own ass later. Make it out alive, you got that? Can't kick your ass if you're dead, Junsu. Sage advice, so he takes it and clings to it on hands and knees, determined to give the other man a chance to berate him for his mistakes once they're back, safe and sound, on the Cerberus.
Yoochun gives no inkling of his own thoughts as he cocks his gun, stealthy and focused as he climbs back to his feet, his back to the wall. "On three?"
"On three."
Junsu barely has time to cock his gun when Yoochun fires, agreement forgotten as he empties two rounds into the secondary bay. He's left to follow weakly, anger at being cheated out of a fair kill vanishing when he sees the carnage, the blood-spattered floor and the single soldier with severed legs screaming on the ground.
"The hell... Yoochun!"
The other man ignores him, striding past as well as he can manage with a limp in his leg. His gun is cocked and aimed at the struggling figure, determination setting his arm firm, unwavering.
"Swallow this, bitch," Junsu hears him say, all fire and hatred as he presses the trigger. He fires two shots between the legs, the scream that rips from the man's throat chilling his blood.
All three might as well be alarm signs for reinforcements so Junsu moves fast, teeth clenching as he shoots the fallen Guard between the eyes, cutting off the horrid noise. He spares a single moment to stare at Yoochun, standing frozen, staring into the dead eyes of his dead enemy, before moving to check the fuel tanks and choosing the craft with the best chances of survival. When he returns to Yoochun's side, breathless, the other man is unmoved.
Something clenches in his chest and it isn't horror. Junsu has a feeling it might be guilt.
He touches his lover's arm gently, not really afraid to get shot by friendly fire, but afraid to hurt him somehow. "You okay?"
Yoochun's eyes focus on him with distinct clarity. He nods as if the past moments never even happened. "Let's go."
***
Yunho's frequency crackles with static as they near the Cerberus, his craft swerving low to clear out the firing line in case of any pursuers. Sensors pick up a few, but Guard protocol tells them to protect the hive at all costs and for good reason: the Acheron is not moving, its engines are dead. Short of releasing the stabilizers and drifting blindly into space, it clings to its position, cornered though it may be.
"We've got them now," some voice jeers over the comsys, false reassurance driving their movement the same way it has driven Jiexi's supporters for a decade. Yunho ignores it to the best of his abilities.
"All clear on our six, Cerberus?" he verifies once more, knowing that even with reduced fuel, they're still quicker than the transport ship.
There's slight hesitation. "All... strike that, negative! Incoming fighter bearing six two... oh four. Broadcasting Imperial signals and coming right at us--where the hell did he come from?"
Jiexi's unmistakable voice comes on the frequency: "Get back out there, Yunho and take it out!"
"Roger that." His craft pulls up abruptly, the others following hot on his trail. "You heard it, boys. Changmin, head formation, how's your weaponsys?" If anyone can expedite these bastards into the next world quickly, it's Changmin. Jaejoong's name comes to mind but he refuses to allow it. He can't trust the other man to stop at one craft.
"I'm good," the younger man radios back, somewhat hesitant. On a private frequency, he adds: "Jaejoong's right, we need to board them, we need to find..."
"In due time. First, take out the enemy."
Silence and then: "Right. Wilco." His craft rushes ahead, engines burning up the last of his fuel.
Yunho watches him go and feels a pang of dread. "Jaejoong, on me, the rest of you head back to refuel--"
"Yunho? What--"
A surge of guilt courses through him at the sound of Jaejoong's voice, so uncomprehending of his motives they might as well be strangers.
"We're not leaving Changmin alone out here," he radios back. Not him, too. Not again, not another one.
Authors: butterflyweb and nemesis_cry
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: OT5
Warning(s): violence, graphic sex, language
Summary: It's been six months since Changmin crashed on the remote planet known as Elysia. Five months since Yunho and Junsu found him. Four months since Jaejoong was shot by a man he and Yoochun both trusted. Now training as the Empress' men, former soldiers and former rebels have shed past allegiances in service of a common goal. But the tide is turning--and not in their favor.
Banner credit: luvmeanddespair
A/N: Thank you for all your wonderful feedback for the first part. We hope you enjoy this one!
Prequel: Acts of Contrition;
Acts of Insurrection: One; Two; Three; Four; Five; Six; Seven; Eight; Nine; Ten; Eleven; Twelve; Thirteen; Fourteen; Fifteen; Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
They're sore and bruised and dripping with blood, but they're determined. Or Yoochun is, and Junsu follows because that's what he's taught himself to do. He's needed, Yoochun needs him. That thought alone fuels strength into his limbs, helps him rise from the ground.
Alarms blare through the ship and he can imagine the confusion, the strain put on them. Whatever the damage, it won't last long. The Guard is too well prepared for this, Junsu knows. Yoochun doesn't.
Scarlet-stained fingertips brush his wrist, Yoochun's eyes dark with pain and that same stubborn resolve that's never left him. Junsu feels sick with the sudden knowledge that this could be the last time he sees the other man, the end of it. His mouth tightens, returning the gentle touch.
"Love you," he says softly, and if it sounds like giving up, if it sounds like damnation, he doesn't care. Yoochun's voice is ragged with his reply, eyes shutting briefly before focusing on the door.
"Forever and always, Su-ah."
Protocol in the Guard has many levels and many specifications. If the ship is grounded, you don't keep the enemy alive longer than you must. You don't allow liability and strife to coexist in your midst. Some of it is scripture and some of it is ancient tradition, but mostly, the Guard hasn't encountered a war in too long to know that you don't shoot POW's. In different circumstances, Junsu would be worried. As it is, he lies in wait and lets go of Yoochun's hand.
The lock on their door opens heavily, electronics laden with more important and unusual defects. He bites his lip and clenches his fists. Quick, he thinks, they have to be quick.
The door has barely opened enough to show the guard when they rush him, moving as fast as their wounds permit, pushing past the pain. Junsu grabs him by the collar before he has a chance to get the gun up, smashing his head off the door frame as hard as he can mange while Yoochun takes his weapon. Junsu sees only wide eyes and a young, bloody face before he turns away, Yoochun firing a single, fatal shot.
He stumbles slightly with the weapons kick, nothing more than sheer will keeping him moving. Junsu grabs ahold of his sleeve, taking the gun and firing another shot into the limp form. They're expecting to hear two gunshots. It'll buy them some time, but not much.
"Come on, let's move."
Yoochun is slow, flinching at the touch to his arm like it burns and Junsu chastises himself mentally for it. If they had more time, he'd apologize, he'd kiss his lover and repeat how sorry he is, how wrong everything has become and how it's all his fault. He doesn't waste his breath now, Yoochun doesn't need excuses, he needs to be taken to safety and that, Junsu thinks, he can do.
He peeks outside their cell cautiously but finds no trace of their jailers. Chaos has brought everyone to action stations.
"We'll need to take the lower levels to the secondary bay," he rationalizes, Yoochun nodding behind him with every word. The other man doesn't know the ship or the dangers, but they haven't come so far to die. Junsu takes his hand again and leads him out into a silent corridor. He used to jog around here with Changmin. The memory is bittersweet on his tongue and he pushes it back. No time for it now.
He tries to move silent but quick, the Guard-issue weapon heavy in his hand, listening for the clicks of bootheels on polished metal floors. A battle like this, the majority of the deployment would be towards the front and rear guns, command deck and primary bay. It doesn't mean they won't encounter stragglers, not by a long shot.
Punching the lift button, he raises the gun, training it on the interior. It opens to two soldiers, heads bent over a missive and Junsu fires without remorse, tugging Yoochun inside.
It's hard to avoid stepping on the dead bodies and he thinks he sees Yoochun give one a fierce kick. Not that it matters. Still dead, still a casualty of war, still the son of a mother who will get the Guard knocking on her door tomorrow morning to explain how her child died honorably.
Bullshit, he thinks and grabs the soldiers' guns, thrusting one at Yoochun and tucking the other in his waistband. Later, when he'll not be facing his own mortality and Yoochun's like this, he'll have time to repent for cold blooded murder. Right now, he pushes on, gun cocked and aimed when the doors slide open anew.
"Bottom of the ship, bottom of the ride," he mumbles to himself, the silence creeping in too close for comfort. "Engine room on the left." Smoke darkens the tiny window in the pressure-sealed doors. "Engines are offline... They're sitting ducks." This had better be Yunho's doing, he thinks, or the other man won't believe him.
The Acheron, offline? Never. It's not possible.
He grins before he remembers himself, adrenaline rushing through his veins. They move as quick as possible through the corridor, punching the controls for the bay door, weapons still at the ready as it slides open. Clear. They haven't exhausted primary reserves just yet. Good thing for them, a worse thing for those on the receiving end of the Acheron's fury.
"Come on, we can take one of the two man fighters," he hisses, well aware that neither of them are able enough to pilot a single craft.
Yoochun grabs his arm, suddenly dragging him down to the floor in a flutter of dark hair and singed metal.
It's not until he's lying flat on his back that he understands what's happening.
A volley of fire mars the wall behind him, swift and deadly.
"Not clear," Yoochun mutters, pulling himself to his elbows and gritting his teeth against pain so apparent on his features. Junsu follows, heart racing.
"Did you see how many?" he barely gets out, forgetting his instincts are sharpest in the cockpit, not out of it. On firm ground, Yoochun and the rebels have an advantage and thank the Gods for that.
"One, maybe two. He's not shouting so he's probably alone." It makes sense, Junsu doesn't contradict him. "Why would they leave someone behind?" Yoochun murmurs against the metal wall, swallowing steadying breath after steadying breath.
"New regs." It's the likeliest answer. The alternative is that he fucked up. Once when getting caught, once when leading them straight into enemy fire. Yunho would tell him to kick his own ass later. Make it out alive, you got that? Can't kick your ass if you're dead, Junsu. Sage advice, so he takes it and clings to it on hands and knees, determined to give the other man a chance to berate him for his mistakes once they're back, safe and sound, on the Cerberus.
Yoochun gives no inkling of his own thoughts as he cocks his gun, stealthy and focused as he climbs back to his feet, his back to the wall. "On three?"
"On three."
Junsu barely has time to cock his gun when Yoochun fires, agreement forgotten as he empties two rounds into the secondary bay. He's left to follow weakly, anger at being cheated out of a fair kill vanishing when he sees the carnage, the blood-spattered floor and the single soldier with severed legs screaming on the ground.
"The hell... Yoochun!"
The other man ignores him, striding past as well as he can manage with a limp in his leg. His gun is cocked and aimed at the struggling figure, determination setting his arm firm, unwavering.
"Swallow this, bitch," Junsu hears him say, all fire and hatred as he presses the trigger. He fires two shots between the legs, the scream that rips from the man's throat chilling his blood.
All three might as well be alarm signs for reinforcements so Junsu moves fast, teeth clenching as he shoots the fallen Guard between the eyes, cutting off the horrid noise. He spares a single moment to stare at Yoochun, standing frozen, staring into the dead eyes of his dead enemy, before moving to check the fuel tanks and choosing the craft with the best chances of survival. When he returns to Yoochun's side, breathless, the other man is unmoved.
Something clenches in his chest and it isn't horror. Junsu has a feeling it might be guilt.
He touches his lover's arm gently, not really afraid to get shot by friendly fire, but afraid to hurt him somehow. "You okay?"
Yoochun's eyes focus on him with distinct clarity. He nods as if the past moments never even happened. "Let's go."
***
Yunho's frequency crackles with static as they near the Cerberus, his craft swerving low to clear out the firing line in case of any pursuers. Sensors pick up a few, but Guard protocol tells them to protect the hive at all costs and for good reason: the Acheron is not moving, its engines are dead. Short of releasing the stabilizers and drifting blindly into space, it clings to its position, cornered though it may be.
"We've got them now," some voice jeers over the comsys, false reassurance driving their movement the same way it has driven Jiexi's supporters for a decade. Yunho ignores it to the best of his abilities.
"All clear on our six, Cerberus?" he verifies once more, knowing that even with reduced fuel, they're still quicker than the transport ship.
There's slight hesitation. "All... strike that, negative! Incoming fighter bearing six two... oh four. Broadcasting Imperial signals and coming right at us--where the hell did he come from?"
Jiexi's unmistakable voice comes on the frequency: "Get back out there, Yunho and take it out!"
"Roger that." His craft pulls up abruptly, the others following hot on his trail. "You heard it, boys. Changmin, head formation, how's your weaponsys?" If anyone can expedite these bastards into the next world quickly, it's Changmin. Jaejoong's name comes to mind but he refuses to allow it. He can't trust the other man to stop at one craft.
"I'm good," the younger man radios back, somewhat hesitant. On a private frequency, he adds: "Jaejoong's right, we need to board them, we need to find..."
"In due time. First, take out the enemy."
Silence and then: "Right. Wilco." His craft rushes ahead, engines burning up the last of his fuel.
Yunho watches him go and feels a pang of dread. "Jaejoong, on me, the rest of you head back to refuel--"
"Yunho? What--"
A surge of guilt courses through him at the sound of Jaejoong's voice, so uncomprehending of his motives they might as well be strangers.
"We're not leaving Changmin alone out here," he radios back. Not him, too. Not again, not another one.