Archive of Our Own ^beta

It wasn’t unusual to find floating debris out past the colony rim. Scrappers chewed up and spit out abandoned—or, unfortunately, not so abandoned—ships all the time. It was the duty of any SEEDS ship and her crew to pause their current mission and examine all wreckage they ever came across. There could be potential survivors left behind, or old data banks untouched by greedy scavengers focused only on perishables and otherwise valuable goods and parts.

So, when Luida was awoken by blaring, ship-wide alarms—flashing green, not red—she only yawned, dressed, and slowly made her way out of her bunk.

“What is it?” She asked once on the bridge.

“Some sort of derelict craft…nothing like I’ve ever seen,” Brad pondered, squinting out the viewport. Luida glanced at the massive, sea colored ship once, then down at the readouts scattered over the bridge’s monitors.

“Nothing in our database?”

“No markings on the hull to identify her, no radio chatter, I’m not even picking up energy signs or heat sources,” Brad murmured, poking at a couple of the screens, flipping through ship models new and old. Nothing matched.

“She’s a big one, though,” Luida wondered, gazing out the viewport once again. It was like a beached whale, enormous and haunting. It looked old, its hull a pockmarked roadmap of space travel, scoring from debris fields and the vague lines of bleaching from starlight. And yet it was unlike anything Luida had ever seen or would ever expect to see from a human craft. Its lines were fluid, there were no visible bolts or signs at all that it was made of plates or interlocking parts. It was organic. She swallowed when they drifted into its eclipse, falling into shadow as it blocked out the light of their system’s star.

“Dead in the water, but intact,” Brad observed the hull scan appearing on his monitor. “There appears to be a docking bay of some sort on the star side. You wanna…take a look…?”

“Not particularly,” Luida shuddered.

Of course they had no choice. Company mandate had them making their slow, methodical way toward the yawning gape of a landing dock on the larger ship. Scans showed breathable air within the ship proper, but the dock was a vacuum.

“How do you figure we’ll get inside?” Brad asked.

“Not sure,” Luida murmured, looking out at the dock from the viewport, “I’m not seeing any sort of universal airlock or—”

Before she could finish her thought their lander jerked and lurched forward in a straight path, blue-green energy surging to life all around them, erecting a floor to ceiling barrier behind them all along the dock. They came to a forced, but graceful landing, and Brad was quick to cut the engines.

“A tractor beam?”

“Yes,” Luida murmured, “it couldn’t have been automated. We’re not alone.”

“That’s not possible, we didn’t see any life readings back on our ship and…what?”

Luida tapped at the lander’s readings screen. Two blips appeared. Weak, but alive. They both got quiet, cautious, staring out at the dock.

“Suit up, I don’t care if there’s artificial atmosphere. Something doesn’t feel right.”

“Agreed,” Luida nodded.

Stepping out into the dock made her shiver. Already, she felt like she was being watched. They found what had to be the entrance to the main ship, the door whooshed open on their approach and they stepped inside, clicking on their suit lamps. The air was still, but there was gravity, and the oxygen levels were still livable, if a little low, comparable to high altitudes on Earth.

They placed markers, meandering through the alien, organically shaped halls of the ship to reach the life readings deep in its bowels. The farther they went, they started to see more signs of life. Garbage littered the floors, wrappers, packaging of some kind, as well as other random bits of debris and belongings strewed about in no particular pattern or reason. Nothing looked familiar, no recognizable language or images on any of it.

There weren’t any signs or any other method of navigation. They had to double back often, checking rooms that might be where the blips were but finding nothing.

“We haven’t found a way to reach any other floors. This is a massive ship, there’s no way these are the only living quarters aboard,” Luida noted, glancing down at her readings again.

“And where is everyone, anyway? If this is a wreck, or some accident, there should be bodies at least. A full evac of a ship this size in event of an emergency…there’s no way everyone would make it off.”

“If there even was an emergency,” Luida shrugged, taking the next left, “maybe rather than scrap it or destroy it, this ship was merely abandoned and it drifted its way into inner-space.”

Brad grabbed her arm and she flinched. He pointed ahead. Two sets of glowing eyes watched them from the dim end of the corridor.

They didn’t move, neither did the eyes. They didn’t even blink. Reflective, jittery glowing orbs in the dark.

“Hello?” Luida called. One set flinched, finally blinked. “We’re from SEEDS, we’re here to help.”

“Is anyone injured? I’m a trained medic, I can help.” Brad offered. They didn’t move.

Ultimately, Luida wasn’t sure what she was expecting. Little green men? It wasn’t the two, dirty little teens who shuffled into the light after much coaxing. If they were human—which they most certainly were not, just based on their lamp-like eyes—they could’ve been fifteen? Sixteen? On the scrawnier side, but tall.

Their clothes and skin were grimy, thin grey smocks—or maybe they’d been white, once upon a time—seemed like the only thing covering them. They were shivering, their bare feet were scuffed and so dirty she thought they were wearing stockings. Limp blond hair trailed in matted tangles down their backs, and if they weren’t biological twins they had to be siblings at least.

They were incredibly skittish, one more so than the other, smaller than its twin and missing an arm. It looked like an old wound, though, long scarred over from what she could tell, and it kept that side angled away from them. They didn’t seem to understand galactic standard or speak at all. The bigger twin was the one in control, for sure, its flat expression and blatant distrust evident as it held the smaller back, the two wrapped up in each other’s arms, moving as one when they managed to convince them back to the lander. They reached the entrance and they balked, hanging back, shaking their heads and shuffling back into the dark halls.

“It’s alright,” Luida soothed, “we can take care of you, just come with us.”

It took a bit more coaxing and convincing, Luida cooing and doing her best to distract the smaller one as they boarded the lander and took off. The poor thing was shaking, clinging onto her hand with a grip that felt much too tight for a boy his size. Her hand was numb by the time they made it back to their own ship and, with a curious, nonverbal sound, the larger called his twin back to his side. A sort of hiss.

Trying to get them to bathe wasn’t as hard of a task as Luida initially thought. She’d brought them to the showers, only had to demonstrate how they worked and then she was being shoved out of the room less than a second later. She listened to them—pretty sure they’d turned on every shower head and while it was more than a waste she didn’t have the heart to blame them, who knows how long they’d spent cooped up in their own filth on that godforsaken ship?—and it warmed her heart to hear the smaller’s voice burst into bright laughter, small footsteps slapping around the room as they played and, hopefully, got clean at the same time.

The door whooshed open when they were done and she balked, laughing a little at the state of the room. Shower heads were hanging loose, bottles and sponges were scattered all over the floor, almost every surface—including the ceiling, somehow—was covered in suds and splattered soap. The little one was grinning, bobbing up and down in clear delight. Their skin was far paler than she thought now that all that sweat and grime had been scrubbed away, especially the taller one. Their hair was inexplicably lush, golden waterfalls hanging down their shoulders, chests and backs, darker blonde lying straight with only a slight wave at the ends, with the taller’s paler, near platinum blonde falling in perfect, deep waves that would only grow more luscious once dry, Luida was sure.

“Look how pretty you two are!” Luida gasped, smiling, daring to pinch the little one’s cheek and he’d giggled. They didn’t seem shy at all in their nakedness, though Luida mindfully kept her eyes aboveboard for their sake. Brad was not so tactful.

“I know we’re calling them boys and all for convenience, but are they…girls? They’re totally flat down there.” Brad wondered aloud, watching the two meander down their ship’s corridors, exploring and incredibly inquisitive, balking with little startled hisses when the adults had to shoo them from crew-only sections.

“Perhaps they’re genderless, if they’re female I think they’d be old enough to develop breast tissue as well,” Luida commented, watching the way the taller one always had his eye on his twin. “They’re clearly not human, we can’t think of them under the same restrictions.”

“Right…”

“Either way, they need clothes,” Luida smiled. They weren’t bothering to hide how they shivered in the cold, again, the taller draping over the smaller for warmth and protection.

“I’ve got some old kids’ stuff in storage, I’ll get those out, see what fits.”

“Thanks Brad, I’ll see about getting them some food.”

She wasn’t happy about separating, being alone with the two alien children, no matter how charming they appeared. But nothing had happened yet, and they’d certainly had every opportunity to attack if they wanted to.

“Come on, kids,” she ushered them along, “let’s get you something to eat.”

They couldn’t understand her, of course, but it felt better filling the silence. Luida knew she’d probably be happy to hear someone else’s voice after so long in isolation.

Finding food they would eat was much harder than a shower. Their pickiness had no rhyme or reason to it. She tried tracking what they absolutely wouldn’t touch, gagging at dairy products, seeming amenable to green things, but only just. They were curious when she pulled out some old jerky from the cabinet, clambering at her to reach it with little grunts and huffs when she didn’t immediately hand it over.

“Hold on, hold on,” she laughed, leading them to a table. The metal chairs must’ve been cold on their bare legs, but they obediently sat when she demonstrated, and dug into the jerky with a voracity that nearly made her ill. They’d been on an abandoned ship, she had to remind herself, for who knows how long. Still, the flash of those too-sharp teeth made her queasy.

Thankfully Brad arrived with clothes to try on and that diverted their attention, tripping from the table to practically climb all over him instead. A glance showed nothing left of the jerky on the table save a few crumbs. Brad held up some shirts to their chests to find the right size, nothing fancy, most of them were tank-tops, off-white and plain, along with pairs of stretchy grey leggings that were all one-size, but looked like they would do the trick. Brad was about to dress the smaller one himself when the taller snarled something closer to a word than they’d heard before. It made the small one flinch and retreat to his side immediately.

“Vashu?” Luida tried. Their heads snapped to her unnaturally fast, eyes wide, hypnotic green and blue.

“Vash?” She repeated, shortening the vowel at the end. The smaller shifted around, whining a little, glancing from her to his twin, who was regarding her now with a hint of…something in his gaze. That discomfort came back like a splash of ice water down her back.

“Va-shu.”

“Vash.”

“VA-shu.”

“That’s what I’m saying, isn’t it?” Brad grumbled, exasperated. Vash giggled softly in the corner, quieting instantly and dropping his eyes to the floor when Luida gave him a smile. Very, very shy, but overall sweet enough. The older was named Nai, and they hadn’t gotten much farther than that.

“How long have you been on that ship?” Luida asked, fruitlessly, but she wanted to try, now that she knew they were capable of speech. She gestured around them, looking confused, and pointed at them. Nai bit his lip, gears churning behind his eyes. He pointed at himself, and flashed his open palms twice.

“Twenty,” Luida surmised.

“But that could mean anything. A year to them could be a month for us, or a hundred,” Brad murmured.

Nai gestured at the ship around them and paused, considering, and flashed a single hand.

“Well, no matter what twenty means to them, they’ve been here for a quarter of their lives,” Luida frowned. “On the derelict ship, that is, if they’re understanding me correctly.”

“I want them back at the colony,” Brad decided, nodding his head. “The computers are more robust, there, we could try the universal translators.”

“We could, but I don’t remember there being any reported alien lifeforms that look like humans,” Luida said, standing from the table to stretch. They’d been trying to get the twins to speak for hours now.

“I know you don’t want to hear it,” Brad murmured, not taking his eyes off the twins as they chattered in their strange way, seemingly comfortable enough now to make noise around them, “but those probably aren’t their real bodies.”

The same chill from before crept down her spine. Nai’s nostrils flared and he stared at her, expression unreadable, before Vash got his attention and his icy gaze slid away, like a physical touch.

“You’re right, I’d prefer to be able to sleep at night,” she whispered. They would’ve done something already, again she reminded herself. They were peaceful, for the time being. Vash, at least, was a sweetheart, a little ball of starlight, bubbly and bouncy and sweet. He’d taken to scratching out endless little senseless doodles with some paper and pens she’d provided, humming a soothing tune while his legs kicked back and forth under him. Nai would then take those papers and organize them, folding them, just keeping his hands busy, she guessed.

The trip back to the colony was a day and a half, a day and a half of corralling two very hyper teen-sized aliens around the ship. It didn’t seem like they needed sleep at all, filled with boundless energy and curiosity, chirping loudly at each other from opposite ends of a corridor, clambering into ventilation ducts until Brad had to drag them out by their ankles, hissing like irritated little cats. Releasing them into the colony would be disastrous, Luida realized.

“We’ll have to keep them on the lander, somehow, until they wear out,” she fretted, watching Vash gnaw through more jerky she’d found crammed in the back of another crew member’s locker. It was the only thing they’d eat willingly.

“If they wear out,” Brad sighed, exasperated. He was nursing a few scratches on his arm from Nai when he’d pulled him out of a storage locker an hour ago. “We might need to consider sedatives.”

“I think you’re right,” Luida replied, dismayed when Vash bounced from the table to shuffle through all the kitchen cabinets and pantries, again. They seemed to lack all social awareness, she’d say they were feral but they possessed some amount of intelligence. It was a lack of regard, more than ignorance, and that was what was scaring her, an intelligent decision to ignore rules and propriety, like they were above it.

She had a few pieces of jerky left that she’d stashed in her personal quarters, amazed that they were still there after she found them both rooting through her closet and drawers, staring at the messy piles of clothes and personal items of hers they’d scattered all over the floor in their wake. She crushed two sedatives into a fine powder, mixing it with their water for their final meal before “bedtime,” a time that they’d tried to hammer into the twins’ heads that meant “quiet time,” but they were never quiet. Guiltily, she watched them guzzle their water down, tearing into the jerky with gusto, but eventually slowing, finally, after days of feverish activity.

Nai was staring at her again, as he carefully set his glass down on the table. It was half empty. Vash had drank his in its entirety. Fine. It wouldn’t be enough to put him to sleep, but hopefully it would make him more pliant once they’d arrived at the colony.

They radioed ahead about what they’d found, and they were delegated to a specific dock that would remain locked down until the twins’ origins could be discovered, until they could properly communicate with them. Vash slept the whole way, and Nai was quiet, subdued, all he did was stare and cling to his twin’s dormant body, relinquishing him with a little mournful sound when Brad had to lift Vash in his arms to carry him out of the ship, onto the colony dock. Luida took Nai’s hand and guided him out behind them, murmuring encouragement as they went. He spooked when he saw the large hangar, stubbornly hanging back before taking the last step.

“It’s alright, Nai, we’re going to help you and your brother. You’re safe here,” Luida spoke, giving him a little smile. He bit his lip, stared at Vash in Brad’s arms, and scurried the rest of the way down to bury his face in Luida’s chest. She flushed, chuckling a little, but patted his head. Nai’d never shown this kind of affection before, maybe he’d learned it from watching Vash. Either way, she tucked him close as they made their way through the dock to the entrance to their wing, where they would be debriefed.

She wasn’t particularly surprised to see the head of the Alien Sciences division waiting in the plain white room, pushing his glasses up his nose as he regarded the twins with barely concealed, ravenous curiosity.

“You dosed the smaller one, is it hostile?”

“No, no, just very hyper,” Brad assured, sitting at the meeting table with Vash still cradled in his arms. Nai slunk close by, keeping to the wall, eyes only on the strangers in the room.

“Nai,” Luida got his attention, “this is Doctor Conrad, he’s here to help you.”

“They can understand galactic standard?” Conrad frowned, glancing at his note tablet.

“We’re not sure exactly, they probably glean more understanding through tone and context clues, like anyone would,” she replied, worriedly keeping an eye on her small charge. His breathing was elevated as he stared at Conrad in particular, flinching when the man approached to pin a small microphone to his shirt, walking the cable back to the center of the room, plugging it in. They did the same for Vash.

“Can we turn on the room computer, please?” Conrad ordered, “set the translator for the widest net possible.”

With a click and hum, the ship’s computer activated in the room, a bluelight readout flashed across the far wall’s screen and Nai flinched, staring at it.

“WHATWHATWHATWHAT—”

“Oh Jesus,” Brad hissed, slapping his hands over his ears, “what the hell is that? Turn it down!”

“It’s the translator,” Luida breathed. Nai was frozen, having shuffled his way into a far corner to fold into himself on the floor, staring at them all with wide, startled eyes. The cable attached to his microphone was close to taut.

“WHO WHAT SHIP WHERE HERE BROTHERMATE—ERROR: CLOSEST PROXIMITY TERM USED FOR LAST—HUNGRY HUNGRY—”

“But…he’s not speaking.”

“The computer can detect higher and lower than audible frequencies,” Conrad explained. “We may not hear him, but the machine will.”

“Incredible. All the noise they made on the ship before was purely for our benefit,” Luida surmised. Vash stirred, squirming, and the noise from the translator machine ascended into a pitchy crescendo of feedback noise.

“Calibrate it, lock down the language they’re using, please.” Conrad murmured, watching Vash wake like a hawk. The smaller twin made confused little whimpers, trying desperately to open his eyes but his body wasn’t quite ready yet.

“The translator is calibrated, sir, we should be able to speak to them now.”

“Good,” Conrad procured a small microphone from a drawer beneath the table and clicked it on, tapping once, before speaking clearly into it.

“Hello.”

Nai flinched, Vash gasped, and all at once the translation audio from their end ceased as they stared at him.

“Hello,” Conrad tried again.

“Why can’t we hear anything?” Brad frowned.

“Sub-frequency,” was Conrad’s only reply, before he spoke into the microphone again. “My name is Doctor Conrad. I am a scientist. I am here to help.”

There was a pause as the computer relayed the message in their unheard language, and then speakers in the room squealed when two conflicting data streams tried to process their responses at once.

“One at a time, please,” Conrad clarified. “Our technology is limited.”

Vash was fully awake, as much as he could be with the drugs, and he sent a look Nai’s way. Nai licked his lips nervously, a quick flick of a pink tongue.

“WHERE QUESTIONING.”

“Manners, boy,” Conrad smiled, it was cold, “I’ve said hello, now you greet me back.”

“GREETING OLD—ERROR: UNKNOWN TERM—HELLO WHAT WANT SPEAK QUESTIONING.”

“What is your name?”

Nai looked to Luida.

“Th-their names are Nai and Vash,” she spoke, gesturing to them in turn.

“I want to hear him say it,” Conrad said, motioning to his auto-notetaker. “I want to know if their names translate into something our computer understands.”

“Very well,” she sighed, giving Nai a look in return, a nod that she hoped he understood.

“What is your name?” Conrad repeated into the microphone.

All they got was garbled vowels and error codes, for both their names when prompted, so they moved on.

“Where did you come from? What is your purpose here?”

“Doctor, please, I really must insist on a lighter hand, here,” Luida interjected again. “These boys have been abandoned on a derelict craft for years, have some tact, please.”

“Fine, fine,” the doctor raised his hands in defeat, “I’ll start simpler. If a minute is sixty seconds, a second being a tick of that clock,” he pointed to a digital clock on the bluelight screen ticking away, Nai glanced at it, “and there are sixty minutes in an hour, twenty-four hours in a day, 365 days in a year, how many years have you been on that craft?”

“That’s simple?” Brad muttered, but they all jumped, surprised, when Nai had an immediate, exact answer.

“IF ASSUME PROPOSING SIXTY SECONDS MINUTE SIXTY MINUTES HOUR TWENTY-FOUR HOURS DAY THREE-HUNDRED-SIXTY-FIVE DAYS YEAR WE BROTHERMATE—ERROR: CLOSEST PROXIMITY TERM USED FOR LAST—SHIP SURVIVE HUNT ONE-HUNDRED-FIFTY-TWO YEARS THIRTY-FIVE DAYS THREE HOURS FIFTY-TWO MINUTES.”

No one spoke.

Luida, and everyone else for that matter, stared at Vash and Nai.

“UNDERSTAND QUESTIONING LIFEFORM—ERROR: CLOSEST PROXIMITY TERM USED FOR LAST—PREY UNDERSTAND SPEECH ME BROKEN MACHINE QUESTIONING.”

“Hunt…prey…” Brad murmured, staring down at Vash in his arms, who only gazed curiously back.

“152 years,” Luida murmured. “Only a quarter of their…”

“How old are you?” Conrad asked.

“IF ASSUME PROPOSING SIXTY SECONDS MINUTE SIXTY MINUTES HOUR TWENTY-FOUR HOURS DAY THREE-HUNDRED-SIXTY-FIVE DAYS YEAR WE BROTHERMATE—ERROR: CLOSEST PROXIMITY TERM USED FOR LAST—SEVEN-HUNDRED-TWO YEARS TWENTY-THREE DAYS TWO HOURS THREE MINUTES.”

Brad wasn’t even holding onto Vash anymore, the small thing was clinging to him so he wouldn’t slip to the cold floor, confusion twisting his features.

“BRAD BRAD BRAD FRIEND PROSPECT FRIEND POTENTIAL—ERROR: CLOSEST PROXIMITY TERM USED FOR LAST—WHAT WRONG QUESTIONING BRAD BRAD.”

The machine had helpfully calibrated to a different tone for Vash.

“Get this thing off me,” Brad wheezed, squeezing the sides of his chair.

“LUIDA.”

The single bark of her name from the speakers was enough for the whole room to pause. She turned to Nai. He was standing now, somehow appearing taller than before, sharper. He raised his hand in Conrad’s direction, pointing at the microphone.

“ANOTHER VOICE ANOTHER TONE WARM SYMPATHY UNDERSTANDING DEVICE MACHINE SMALL PLEASE QUESTIONING.”

“I-I think he wants me to have a microphone, too,” she said.

Conrad, begrudgingly, slid one across the table and she turned it on.

“Hello, Nai,” she greeted. He seemed satisfied, the set of his shoulders wasn’t so tense.

“GREETING LUIDA WARM FRIEND.”

Her cheeks flushed but she settled, continuing.

“By our time, you are quite old, Nai. It scared us, that’s all. I’m only thirty-three years old.”

The machine cycled through her message and his eyes widened, and he smiled.

“CHILD CHILD CHILD BABY CHILD LAUGHTER HUMOR.”

“Alright, alright,” she smiled, “get it out of your system. Do you see what I mean, though?”

“SEE YES.”

“What did you mean by hunt? Prey?”

He frowned.

“WE BROTHERMATE—ERROR: CLOSEST PROXIMITY TERM USED FOR LAST—HUNT PREY.”

“That’s not an explanation, Nai.”

He made a frustrated sound that the computer translated as more garbled syllables and unknown terms.

“MACHINE WRONG MACHINE ANTIQUATED BABY TECHNOLOGY INFANT STAGE WEAK.”

“Machine wrong,” she repeated, quieter. He nodded, shifting his eyes away as he considered, then spoke again.

“SEARCH LONG STRETCH OF TIME HUNT PLANET SUSTAIN LIFEFORM—ERROR: CLOSEST PROXIMITY TERM USED FOR LAST—DYING HOME ADRIFT ALONE COLD HUNGRY COLD ALONE BROTHERMATE—ERROR: CLOSEST PROXIMITY TERM USED FOR LAST—EMPTY.”

“Why are all their responses so disjointed?” Luida asked, “shouldn’t the computer be able to formulate complete sentences?”

“They must not communicate with specific words,” Conrad marveled, “more like thoughts, feelings, gestures and ideas. They are a race beyond the necessity of spoken language. I imagine their society must have been magnificent. It may not even be their original language they’re using to communicate with, for our sake, but a baser dialect they learned elsewhere.”

“Their ship was derelict,” Luida reminded, “magnificent or not, something happened.”

“Please get it off me,” Brad spoke again, frustrated when Vash only clung tighter.

“If they wanted to hurt us, they would’ve done so already,” Luida rolled her eyes, but helped pull Vash off his lap to lean against her body as he recovered from the sedative.

“AFFIRMATIVE.”

She flinched, she must’ve pressed the microphone button as she was gathering Vash. He scampered from her side to join Nai in the corner, mic cord trailing after him like a tail, and his…brothermate, according to the computer, sheltered him behind his back. It could mean anything, it could’ve meant littermate for all they knew. The machine didn’t have an exact definition for the term they used.

“Your intention is to find a new planet to live on?”

“AFFIRMATIVE.”

“I don’t care what their intentions are, just keep them away from me,” Brad muttered, and Luida frowned.

“BRAD FRIEND,” Vash’s tone spoke from the computer, “BRAD UPSET ANGRY PUSH NOT WANT POTENTIAL—ERROR: CLOSEST PROXIMITY TERM USED FOR LAST—QUESTIONING.”

Nai held Vash’s hand when Brad scowled at them. Tears pooled in the boy’s blue orbs, sparkling and strange. Musical cries spilled from him, so sorrowful. His tears were like diamonds.

“HATE BRAD HATE BRAD HATE BRAD.”

“Just a thought,” Conrad muttered, carefully keeping his microphone muted, “maybe it would be better if the nearly thousand-year-old alien intellect aboard our colony didn’t hate any of us.” He stared pointedly at Brad. “We don’t know what their definition of ‘hate’ would entail.”

“Ugh, gimme that,” Brad stood and swiped Luida’s microphone. Vash flinched when he approached but only cried harder, Nai didn’t budge.

“I’m sorry, Vash.”

The machine translated, and the boy’s hiccupy sobs slowed. Sniffling he looked up at the man, holding his little arm out for an embrace. Nai moved aside for Brad to hug him, seemingly satisfied.

“GOOD GRAND PEACE LOVE FRIEND POTENTIAL— ERROR: CLOSEST PROXIMITY TERM USED FOR LAST—APPEASE BROTHERMATE—ERROR: CLOSEST PROXIMITY TERM USED FOR LAST.” Nai said.

“Is there a way to update the computer to get rid of these known word errors? It’s repetitive.”

“We have someone on it now,” Conrad relayed, tapping his earpiece. 

“HUNGRY HUNGRY HUNGRY.” The speaker squealed when Vash joined Nai’s chanting.

“They eat, um, jerky. Dried meats. Maybe fresh would be easier on their stomachs, they’ve had some potty issues.”

“Why are you talking like they’re five? They’re 700 fucking years old!” Brad scoffed. Luida glanced their way. She couldn’t help it, they seemed so innocent and childlike in their mannerisms. Maybe it was a side effect of being abandoned for so long, alone with only each other for company.

“Have someone send something,” Conrad ordered, one of the crew members at the door slipped out.

“Food’s coming,” Conrad spoke to the twins, smiling in that clinical way of his. “Do you have any siblings? Parents? Any family at all?”

“BROTHERMATE ONLY ALONE TOGETHER,” Vash answered. “HOME GONE ALL GONE NONE LEFT ONLY BROTHERMATE ALONE TOGETHER.”

“How awful,” Luida sighed.

“If they were alive, how old would your parents be? If they would still be alive, biologically.”

Luida frowned at the question, but this time it was Nai who answered.

“PLANET DEAD.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, Nai.”

“PLANET DEAD,” Nai repeated, frowning, making another frustrated noise, further complaints about their lack of adequate translation technology spilling from the speakers.

“PREY,” Vash said, smiling.

Nai hit his brother and Vash wailed, the speakers squealing with feedback.

“Woah, Nai, apologize to your brother!” Luida frowned. It wasn’t the first time they’d been a little rough with each other, but that strike felt different.

“ENOUGH,” Nai’s tone took over, his small face was livid, snarling silently, “ENOUGH MACHINE DONE NO MORE TALK HUNGRY FEED BROTHERMATE IMMEDIATELY DONE DONE DONE PRIVACY SHUT DOWN TURN OFF NO MORE.”

“Okay, Nai, easy,” Luida soothed, then put her microphone down, holding out her hands.

“I’m not done,” Conrad barked into his. Nai snapped that oceanic gaze onto him, sparing Luida. She absolutely did not sag in relief. Brad held her shoulder.

“What is the typical lifespan of your race?”

“DONE.”

“I’ll repeat myself, what is the typical lifespan of your race?”

“DONE INFANT DONE CHILD,” Nai was furious, “NO MORE TALK HUNGRY FEED NOW.”

“FEED PREY BROTHERMATE QUESTIONING,” Vash spoke.

“PRIVACY PRIVACY SHUT DOWN TURN OFF NO MORE,” Nai was making guttural, frustrated noises Luida didn’t need a translator to understand.

“I think you should take your own advice, Doctor,” she warned. Conrad sighed, frustratedly tossing his microphone to the table.

“Shut it down, we’ll try again once they’ve eaten.”

A click and a whirr, and the room was silent once more. Nai visibly deflated after a moment, probably probing to see if the machine picked up his speech. Vash only rocked in place, making little grumbly noises staring at all the others in the room with wide eyes.

Their food arrived in the next minute, and Conrad watched them eat, absolutely fascinated by how they divvied up the portions. They’d been given the exact same amount of food, but Nai shoveled some of his sliced up, very raw steak onto Vash’s plate. Vash hummed happily while he ate, chewing with his mouth open, smacking his lips, sucking his fingers. Nai wasn’t that much better, though he was silent, staring right back at Conrad.

“Their diet is…concerning,” Conrad noted, watching with interest—others squeamishly turning away—when Vash bent to lap at the bloody juices on his plate when he was done, making noises that even Luida could admit weren’t very childlike at all. Little breathy grunts, moans of appreciation and delight when Nai pushed his empty plate his way to drink more juices. Brad cleared his throat.

“Our options were limited, maybe there are other foods they can eat that are available here on the colony,” Luida said, brushing some of Vash’s hair from his face before it could land on the bloody plate. Vash grinned at her, bits of steak were stuck between his teeth. She smiled back. The twins were given a glass of water each, and Conrad nodded to the room tech.

“Turn on the machine, we want to stay in their good graces, so I’ll ask them quickly.”

He cleared his throat when the translator whirred back online. Vash and Nai were silent, waiting.

“Are you ready to speak to us some more?” Conrad asked.

“SOME,” Nai answered, “BROTHERMATE TIRED SPEAK QUESTION ANSWER PERHAPS MAYBE.”

Vash yawned, leaning against his twin.

“How long are your days compared to ours?”

“NIGHT SOON SLEEP SEVENTEEN HOURS WAKE PLAY SPEAK TWENTY-FOUR HOURS.”

“That’ll be difficult to maintain,” Conrad noted, off-mic. “Would you be willing to adjust to our days?”

“WILLING NO,” Nai answered, “NO CHOICE LIFEFORM SMALL DAY ONLY.”

“Correct.”

“SLEEP,” Vash said, his eyes drooping.

“SLEEP,” Nai agreed, crossing his arms.

“Would you be willing to use small, portable translators so we can speak to each other outside this room?”

“LEAVE ROOM YES QUESTIONING IF SO THEN YES NO LOCK UNCOMFORTABLE HERE.”

“BRIGHT,” Vash interjected.

“BRIGHT BIG MANY LIFEFORM NO PRIVACY NEED SLEEP NEED PRIVACY BROTHERMATE CLOSE—ERROR: UNKNOWN TERM—BREED SLEEP SLEEP PRIVACY.”

“Breed?” Brad’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline and Conrad shot him a look.

“Of course, Nai, you’ll both have a room to sleep in, you’ll have your privacy. We won’t engage the translators until we have your permission.”

“GOOD GOOD GLAD HAPPY FRIEND NEW LIFEFORM NEW HOME QUESTIONING,” Nai smiled sleepily, “SEE BRAD LUIDA FRIEND POTENTIAL AGAIN QUESTIONING.”

“I’d like to see them again, yes,” Luida answered before Conrad could. “We’ve sort of bonded, I’d hate to leave them. You saw Vash’s response to Brad pushing him away. If we leave now, he might take it as rejection.”

“You have a point,” Conrad sighed, “we’ll have your things moved to this wing, to a room down the hall from the twins’. Yes, Nai,” Conrad engaged the alien again, “you’ll be able to see Brad and Luida again, once you’ve woken up. We’ll start assimilating you to our days come your morning. For now, you and your brother can get some shut eye.”

Vash uttered something that sounded close to a trilled “thank you,” a pleased little sigh that tugged at Luida’s eardrums.

They were ushered, sleepily stumbling down the corridor, to their new room. It was small, like they wanted, with two beds though they only tripped over each other to fall into the same one together, not even bothering to get under the covers as they snuggled close. Luida showed them where the light switch was, flicking it on and off until Nai grumpily waved his hand in understanding, Vash a ball of sleepy blond hair against his chest. She and the others quietly left the room, absolutely not looking at how Nai started pulling Vash’s leggings down, how the smaller shifted against him with a sigh. The door shut and Conrad quietly locked it.

“This room is, of course, wired with cameras and microphones. Unfortunately they aren’t capable of detecting lower than audible frequencies so we will not be able to hear anything they say until we have them replaced.”

“You gave them your word you would only engage the translator with their permission,” Luida frowned.

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them,” Conrad shrugged, pulling the camera feed up onto his tablet. Nai had Vash on his front, his nude legs were spread, all their blond hair splayed over the sheets as they—

She saw enough. She turned with a scoff and left for her new room, leaving Conrad and Brad behind.

“They didn’t have sex, you know.”

“Brad,” Luida choked on her coffee, slamming her mug down, “really.”

“What? They didn’t! I saw your face yesterday, I just wanted to…I don’t know, assuage your fears?”

“Why were you watching anyway? I can’t believe Conrad…” she scoffed, pushing her eggs around her plate.

“Felt weird leaving Conrad alone with that camera feed like that, so I figured I’d hang around. Nothing happened, they just cuddled.”

“It isn’t right. They need to know they’re being watched.”

“If you tell them, Conrad might boot you from the project,” Brad warned. “Vash is attached to me, they’d probably get over you pretty quickly.”

“Gee, thanks,” she glowered.

“You’re just jealous of what we have, me and wittle Vashu~”

The twins slept through their night, much longer than they’d warned for, too. They must’ve been tired from all the excitement. Upon waking they were incredibly active again. They’d stripped naked and trying to convince them to get dressed was a challenge. Feeding kept them docile only for so long, the best way to calm them down was to get them to talk.

“Good morning, boys,” Luida spoke through the portable microphone.

“GREETING HELLO MORNING TIME,” Vash greeted, holding his arm out with a big grin for Brad, who gave him a quick hug.

“HELLO,” Nai’s tone bounced in their little room. “LIFEFORM ROUND EYES GLASS HERE NO QUESTIONING.”

“Is that their way of describing Conrad?” Brad laughed.

“Conrad!” Vash parroted aloud, startling them. “Connnnnraaaaad!”

“Vash,” Nai mumbled.

“So you are capable of normal speech, vocalization I mean?” Luida clarified.

“YES ENERGY MUCH TOO SLOW FASTER THOUGHT FEELING.”

“Is the temperature in your room okay? The food okay?”

“YES NO.”

“Something’s wrong with the food?”

“SLEEP LONG DRUG UNNATURAL CYCLE NO GOOD CLEAN FOOD ONLY TELL THEM QUESTIONING.”

“Did Conrad mention drugging their food?” Luida asked quietly.

“I mean, I would’ve…” Brad shrugged. She rolled her eyes.

The easiest way for the twins to acclimate to a human sleep cycle was to shadow their guardians, following them around as they performed various tasks—their poking and curiosity made completing said tasks difficult, but they managed—and going to “bed” when told. They didn’t sleep the first couple “nights” but after was a day filled with hazy twins stumbling after Brad and Luida, chirping lightly at each other, nuzzling into their human companions wherever possible.

“Vash, c’mon bud, I’m trying to enter in some of this data before dinner.”

Vash whined, rubbing his cheek all over Brad’s chest like a cat, wriggling and shifting his hips over his dick in a way that Brad swore felt intentional.  

“Vash,” he hissed, plucking the teen-sized creature and depositing him in his own chair next to him. “You can’t touch people like that, it’s inappropriate.”

“WHAT MEAN INAPPROPRIATE QUESTIONING,” Vash whimpered, coiling around in his seat, languid and sleepy, but restless.

“It means something not proper, unwanted.”

“NOT WANT VASH QUESTIONING,” Vash’s baby blues flooded with crystalline tears.

“No, I, ugh,” Brad rubbed the back of his neck, “it’s not that I don’t want you around, you just can’t touch people like that without permission. And you’re…well…”

“WHAT VASH,” he sniffled, wiping his unnatural tears away.

“I just don’t see you that way. God, you probably don’t have any idea what I’m talking about,” Brad grumbled.

“HOW NOT SEE ME NOW QUESTIONING.” Vash stood, gesturing to himself.

“No, no I see you physically, yes, I meant like, you’re a little young looking for my type and I’m—fuck, can’t believe I’m talking about this out loud—I like women, you know? Do you understand?”

“BODY WRONG FOR POTENTIAL,” Vash frowned, Brad didn’t like the way he could practically see the gears turning in the alien’s head as he stared down at his thin body, then back up at Brad. His nostrils flared and he glanced down at his crotch. Brad crossed his legs and Vash’s eyes slid away with a little smile. He didn’t like the look in those eyes.

Both of the twins refused to speak after the exchange, no matter how much Brad, Luida or Conrad prodded and wheedled. They were unusually mellow, sticking to their guardian’s side, watching them. It was like they were waiting for something.

Brad thought it was dinner, but that wasn’t it, the twins stayed quiet throughout their meal, Nai staring unnervingly at him the entire time. His expression was almost accusatory, disappointed. Brad never wanted to fight a teenager so badly in his life.

Not a teenager, he reminded himself, a 700-year-old alien creature that probably looked like a lizard-person under all that pretty packaging. And it really was pretty packaging, Brad couldn’t lie. Luida had been right there next to him with Nai, what the fuck was he supposed to say out loud? Sure, Vash, with your preteen body, climb on my cock right now?

When he’d stayed behind with Conrad to watch the feed, he couldn’t deny his disappointment when the twins didn’t do anything else after undressing, but he made sure to look his fill, as had Conrad for that matter. Their bodies were so lithe, so perfect, despite being locked in isolation for years. All those inches of hair added such an ethereal quality to their beauty. He’d followed the willowy lines of Vash’s legs all the way up to his pert cheeks, he could bounce a coin off that ass.

He’d rolled over in his sleep, with Nai still snuggled close, spreading his legs open. Conrad, without prompting and completely uncaring of Brad standing right next to him, zoomed the camera in between his legs. Brad had shifted, gave the old man a glance, but looked down at the feed anyway. Brad had looked his fill back when they first found them, bathed and dressed them. Vash looked like a little girl, completely smooth between his legs, nothing indicating any type of sex, at first. Now, with his legs spread wide, he could see a slim slit, like the smallest little cunt he’d ever seen but shut tight, no clit or lips in sight. He could just barely make out the furl of his ass, small and dark.

Following the twins to their room, Brad couldn’t stop thinking about it, that little slit. He nearly tripped over their small charges when they stopped short of their door, shifting in place, some unheard conversation taking place as they gazed at each other—green on blue—and then Vash’s gaze slipped up to him and Brad swallowed thickly.

“BRAD QUESTIONING.”

“Yes, Vash?”

“DARK SCARY FRIGHTENING QUIET TOO MUCH,” he bit his lip, “SLEEP WITH US QUESTIONING.”

The last was the closest to a complete sentence the machine had ever translated. Either the boys were trying to order their thoughts better, or the machine was learning their thought patterns. Either way, it was endearing, and a difficult plea to ignore despite the tiny wheedle or warning pricking the back of his brain.

“You go on,” Luida smiled, none the wiser, “they’ve been alone for so long, I’m sure they’d appreciate it. You see how they cling to us all day.”

“Yeah,” Brad muttered, nodding, Vash’s eyes on him. “Let me wash up and get dressed, I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay boys? Go brush your teeth.”

They scampered away and Luida chuckled, shaking her head. Brad started to sweat at his hairline and he breathed deep, in and out, before heading off to his own room to decompress and get ready. They were up to something, he just knew it.

He was in the middle of pondering the logistics of sleeping on a tiny bed with two boys at once, thinking maybe he’d just have them come to his room, when he came out of his bathroom.

“Fuck!” He jumped and nearly dropped his towel, scrambling to pull it back up his hips. Vash was already on his bed, watching, waiting. His eyes were fully fixated on the hair line on his stomach leading down to his crotch and Brad swallowed thickly, stammering as he stumbled to his closet.

“How on earth did you fucking get in here?! You’re gonna give me a heart attack…”

His only reply was crooning laughter and chirps. Right, he must’ve left his portable translator behind after he changed. Luida had given the twins light smocks to wear for sleep, like giant balloon shirts that practically swallowed Vash’s thin frame—was he bigger than before? Brad rubbed his eyes, he was so tired—but his legs were bare, smooth and creamy skin on display against Brad’s dark grey sheets.

“Where’s your brother?”

Glittering eyes betrayed nothing. The air vent on the far side of the room rattled.

“Not sure how I feel sleeping with just you, Vash. Come on, where’s Nai?”

Vash smiled lightly, rolling onto his back and spreading his long legs wide, not breaking eye contact even for a second. Not even to blink. His smock slid up his spread legs to settle over his hips. A metallic groan and squeal echoed in the room, like the ship settling around them.

“Vash,” Brad murmured, grip on his towel loosening. His throat was so dry.

Vash hummed softly, his baby blues going all half-lidded and soft, glittering in the dim like little stars. He wasn’t wearing any underwear.

“Vash,” Brad tried again, not even looking at him. He was looking between the boy’s legs, at that pretty little slit. In the light, he could see it was faintly pink, no longer shut tight but gaping open a little, barely a centimeter, something creamy and shiny glistening just inside.

“Brad,” Vash spoke. His voice was…his tone was…mature, belying all those years of life and experience, an infinite, unknowable intelligence. It didn’t match his body, it rattled around in Brad’s skull like a bullet. It was nothing like the precocious little boy he’d been playing at since they found the twins in the derelict craft. This was something of his true self, something he’d been concealing. He held out his hand, and Brad was helpless. He let his towel drop and Vash stared at him, eyes practically slits from amusement, satisfaction. Brad was his plaything, wrapped around his little finger. His lifted hand gracefully arched to point to the door.

“Turn off the light, child,” Vash murmured aloud, no, in his head, his lips moved but he hadn’t made a sound, yet Brad understood him completely.

“Okay,” he spoke dumbly. Blood trickled from his nose as he stumbled to the light switch, flicking it off.

“Thank you, Brad,” Vash sighed, settling deeper into his sheets. From the door, Brad could see him glowing. His eyes. His skin. His cunt. Tantalizing, tantric lines bled across his body in glittering teal, shimmering into a soft pink at the apex of his thighs. A bolder mark pulsed just under his stomach, inviting him. Beckoning him.

His pussy had opened, revealing a soft wet place to fuck. No clit, no dick, nothing but hole, steadily oozing thick globules of pink, opaque slick. Vash put a hand over himself, spreading the thin lips wider with his fingers that seemed longer, thicker in the dim.

“Come here.”

Brad tripped over himself getting to the bed. He crawled on all fours to get between those legs. Vash watched him with that little smile—a smirk—and placed his foot on Brad’s shoulder to keep him down there.

“You want me.”

“I want you,” Brad groaned, sore, dry throat forgotten. Hot wetness trickled from his ears.

“My body is perfect.”

“Your body is perfect.” Tears prickled in his eyes but he could blink.

“You will impregnate me.”

“I w-w-w…!” Something in him bucked at the words, he couldn’t get them to spill out of his mouth. Buzzing static filled his ears as Vash spoke again.

“You will impregnate me, life form.”

“Yes,” Brad sobbed.

“Good,” Vash spoke, fully aloud and not just in his head. It pierced his brain like a pike, a headache pounded at his temples.

“So delicate,” Vash soothed, rubbing his foot against Brad’s taut neck. “Brother knew immediately to be careful with you. I wanted more, faster, but he bade me wait. Animals are so easily domesticated if shown a loving hand, after all.”

“God,” Brad eked out, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Yes,” Vash breathed. Brad whimpered.

“Isn’t this better?” Vash continued, pushing his toes into Brad’s hair, his heel warm on his cheek. “You don’t need to lie, here. If wanting me in this form is taboo, you needn’t be afraid now. We are alone.”

The alien’s foot trailed down his face, caressing his cheekbone, settling in front of his mouth. Brad suckled at his toes. They tasted like nothing, but they were warm and clean, perfectly manicured against his tongue as he licked farther up the bridge, following a faintly glowing line to his ankle and back down to his instep, the ball of his foot, trailing saliva as he went. It was filthy, he was screaming inside. He couldn’t stop.

He blinked, his cock was at Vash’s entrance. It was hot. It was juicy. He split like a fruit when Brad pushed inside him. Vash let his head fall back with a pleased sigh. The alien’s insides were not normal. They were ridged, bumpy, little orb-like shapes pressed into him at every angle as Vash flexed with a hum, watching him. He was like the wildest, weirdest cocksleeve Brad had ever dared to even consider buying.

“Worship me.”

Brad moaned pitifully, driving his hips in a jerking pace.

“Love me.”

Blood dribbled against Vash’s pale, perfect skin. Dark droplets and splatters. Brad’s hips quickened. Something was tugging at the back of his frayed mind, pulling, yanking, rearranging. He blinked and he was on his back, Vash was bouncing on his cock, gasping and perfect, clenching maddeningly tight every time he reared up, their skin slapping together wetly whenever he smacked back down again.

Thick pink slick was smeared over his stomach and hips as Vash ground in little circles, approaching something like an orgasm. His perfect, youthful face was screwed up in ecstasy, dark brows drawing tight, blue eyes blessedly shut.

His balls drew up as he came, so suddenly he shouted in surprise, and Vash groaned, sucking his lip between his teeth. He rolled them until Brad was on top of him, covering him completely with his bulk, his cock still spilling deep inside his hole. Vash locked his legs around his hips as he tried to pull away, the alien’s insides milking him raw to the point of overstimulation. He made desperate grunting sounds, unable to even form words, tugging at Vash’s hold on him, who only clung tighter.

He was going to die he was going to die he was going to die he was—

“Brad! Brad, wake up, it’s past ten already, the twins are a handful today I could use some help! Something’s…ugh, just get out here!”

He stared at his ceiling, panting. Sweat slicked his back to the sheets and he slid out of bed on shaky feet, gazing around the room, unblinking. The sheets were sweaty, but still in place. He was dressed in his usual sleep clothes. His hands and eyes flew down to his dick. Intact, flaccid, not a trace of pink ooze anywhere, balls heavy because he hadn’t even so much as jerked off in the week since they brought the twins onboard the colony.

A dream. It was a dream.

He giggled wildly, cutting off with a hiccup. He ran through a quick shower, dressed, and joined Luida in the common area with two…very different looking twins.

“What…what happened?” He stammered.

“I don’t know,” Luida fretted. Vash and Nai, while still looking very much alike, had grown a solid foot overnight. Their hair was short. All that length just gone, and not in a way that looked like they’d chopped it all off themselves, with shabby cuts and awkward layers, no. The styles looked natural, like they’d looked like that the whole time.

“Vash,” Brad clung to his portable mic with a death grip, sweating again in the alien’s unfathomable gaze. “What happened?”

Vash smiled slowly, propping his head on his hand, slightly less bony elbow on the table. His arm had inexplicably filled with light musculature, nothing at all like the twiggy body he’d just had the day before. Nai was a silent bulk beside him, a little larger, a little more intimidating than the snot nosed punk he was before.

“BODY RIGHT,” was all he said.

The computer’s machine learning was improving, the twins might have also been changing how they relayed their messages. They could almost communicate in complete sentences.

“Nothing else on the table appeals to you?” Conrad asked. They’d fashioned the portable microphones into something they could clip onto their clothing, to make daily tasks and movement easier, while also still being able to communicate properly.

“NO,” Nai replied, crossing his arms, “TOO LOW IN PROTEIN.”

“These are beans, these are lentils, they are high in protein,” Conrad pointed to the bowls on the table. Nai sniffed with a dismissive shrug.

“ANIMAL FOOD.”

“A man after my own heart,” Brad quipped.

“MEAT IS NEEDED,” Nai continued, “MEAT IS REQUIRED.”

“Meat is hard to come by, up here,” Conrad explained, gesturing at the colony ship around them, “the supplies we receive are limited, and I cannot deprive the rest of the crew to feed you both a meat-only diet. At least try these other foods, let the cook put something together for you both.”

Vash chirped quietly by Nai’s side, staring at the bowls with thinly veiled disgust, but the robotic approximation of his voice rang out loud and clear.

“YOU MAY TRY.”

The twins in their new bodies took a lot of getting used to. They were quieter, but in ways bolder. They weren’t afraid to insinuate themselves into places they shouldn’t, looming over shoulders, leaning too close, beaming down at others with their too-sharp smiles and their too-bright eyes. And no one knew how or when it happened. The camera in their room had malfunctioned some time ago, and their requests to engineering and even electrical to have it repaired were ignored, or outright dismissed.

And Brad. Brad was losing his mind.

Nightly he was plagued with…he hesitated to call them dreams, or even nightmares. They were too real, had too many lasting effects—mental and physical—to be labeled so innocuously. Night terrors. He was being terrorized. That sounded right.

It wasn’t even just Vash featured in these terrors anymore, either. Nai was a surprising and unwelcome, uncomfortable addition after the third night of the same psychosexual torment Vash put him through. In this subconscious, cerebral world Vash welcomed his alien brother with open arms and legs, holding giddy, haughty eye contact with Brad as he was fucked by his brother within an inch of his life, squealing, crying, wailing, breaking to pieces beneath him.

Nai was.

Knives.

He was never a single form in Brad’s nightmares. At times he was as he appeared in the waking world, larger than his teen self they’d first encountered, matured lines, sloping muscle, striking eyes the color of Earth oceans. And at times he was formless. He was geometric shapes, he was amoebic, he was a roiling eye, he was miles of glittering, sharp knives and teeth that sliced Brad to ribbons as he screamed along with Vash in orgasm, the smaller alien twin crying out his ecstasy with shining light that burned Brad’s sliced-to-pieces body to a crisp.

And at times Nai was alone. Brad dreaded those nights the most. Because he had learned this as well in the waking world, Nai was a jealous creature. The things Nai could do with blades had Brad whimpering and shying away from the alien. Luida always questioned him, her hand on his shoulder in concern. She was warm, she was real.

“Do you…dream?” Brad asked her quietly. They had a rare moment of privacy, Conrad had asked the twins to accompany him to dinner and they’d agreed.

“What do you mean? Of course I do,” Luida replied, frowning. She placed the back of her hand on his forehead. “Are you feeling alright? You’ve been pale, your eyebags have eyebags.”

Brad swallowed thickly, brushing her hand away. He couldn’t handle being touched.

“I’ve seen things,” Brad whispered, eyeing the door, afraid it would slide open any moment and Nai would be there, an amorphous, oceanic, unknowable thing filled to bursting with sharp blades, waiting to sink into his delicate human flesh.

“When I sleep, I can’t stop these awful…dreams. They’re more like nightmares or, or night terrors. Sleep paralysis. I’m not sure what they are. But they’re…God, Luida, I can hardly sleep anymore…”

“What do you dream about?” Luida asked quietly. He noticed she’d taken his hand in hers, and was rubbing her thumb across his palm. It was fine, it was helping him calm down. He breathed in and out a few times, shakily, trying to copy her even breaths.

“I dream about Vash. It was just him at first. Weird, but manageable. It was right before their bodies changed. I-I don’t wanna say what about, it’s embarrassing…”

“It’s okay,” Luida nodded, squeezing his hand. Brad swallowed.

“But the dreams started getting worse. Much worse. More, um, violent? Nai started appearing in them, too, and they’ve become unbearable. They kill me, over and over, in terrible ways. Every night I try and sleep I think I…I think I might not wake up again and it terrifies me.”

“Have you experienced any symptoms after waking?” Luida asked, her brows furrowed, “besides anything you could attribute to poor sleep.”

“No,” he shook his head, “unless you count my mental state.” He laughed, a little unhinged, a little high, but Luida sighed and squeezed his hand.

“I can work discreetly with medical, get you on some sedatives that should knock you out completely, including all subconscious brain activity. That should hopefully put a stop to whatever this is. My advice, too, would be to consult a psychiatrist.”

“A shrink?”

“Do you have the luxury to be picky?” Luida countered, “after what you described, I’m concerned.”

Brad grumbled, but ultimately agreed to schedule some time with a doctor.

“So how are you finding these dishes, after all?” Conrad asked, dabbing his lips with a napkin. It was an uncommon luxury he was loathe to pass up, a full course meal from one of the colony’s best chefs. His work was usually reserved for dignitaries and special events, any other standard meal the crew consumed came from fabricators or was simple, no fanfare or frills. Conrad had requested the best they could offer, and the kitchens hadn’t disappointed.

Nai and Vash sat opposite him at the table, their place setting far more rumpled and messier than Conrad’s. Sauce and crumbs were scattered and splattered over the tablecloth, the twins still eating in a matter that was…uncouth, to put it lightly. Especially Vash. Of the two, he was wholly more animalistic than his twin, who at least attempted to eat with the unfamiliar utensils placed before them, watching Conrad’s demonstration carefully. Vash abandoned all propriety to dig in with his hand.

He was sucking his fingers clean now, watching Conrad idly, or rather, his plate. Conrad slid his plate across the table and Vash snatched it with a little triumphant sound and tucked into his remaining portion.

“FOOD LIKE THIS ON EARTH QUESTIONING.”

“Yes,” Conrad replied, “though someone must prepare it so. We call them chefs. Or cooks.”

“PASSABLE,” Nai replied, rocking a bit of roll around with his fingertip before Vash snatched that, too, and stuffed it in his mouth, chewing noisily. “OUR CHEFS PREPARED EXCELLENT FOOD AS WELL. LONG GONE. PLANET DEAD. LONG TIME NO FOOD LIKE THIS.”

“Tell me about your world?” Conrad asked. It wasn’t the first time he’d asked, and each time before he’d been brushed off or ignored, but this time Nai looked contemplative. Tired.

“MANY EONS AGO, BEFORE BROTHERMATE OR I EXISTED, OUR PLANET THRIVED. IT WAS BEAUTIFUL. IT WAS STRONG. MANY GENERATIONS OF KIN ACROSS THE WHOLE PLANET. HARMONY. PEACE. PROSPERITY. PLENTY. BUT…”

He paused, fingering at the microphone clipped to his chest, before his eyes slid to Conrad’s. He shivered, but remained seated when Nai stood. It was important not to show fear in front of an animal, Conrad thought, and what was Nai if not another kind of animal? Nai approached him on silent feet, stopping next to him. He had no body heat, no smell, nothing. If Conrad hadn’t been looking, he wouldn’t have even known he was there. A perfect predator. He wasn’t even breathing.

“PERHAPS IT WOULD BE BETTER TO SHOW YOU. OUR WORLD. AND WHAT WE WILL DO TO YOURS.”

A cold fingertip settled on his forehead, and Conrad screamed.

“What is it? What’s going on?!” Luida shouted over the blaring alarms, shoving her way out of her room. She was jostled along by other crew members sprinting down the hall.

“It’s Conrad! He had some sort of seizure when he was eating with the twins, he’s got one of them hostage and we don’t know where the other went!” Someone shouted.

“Hostage?” Luida gasped, “which one?!”

“The smaller one, Vash!”

She sprinted behind the others, desperately pushing through to the front, to see inside the small room. The table and chairs were all upended, shattered plates and remnants of food and drink were smeared all over the floor underfoot and Conrad was struggling in the corner with Vash in a headlock, knife under his chin as he stared around the room with wild, rolling eyes.

“Where is he?! Where are you, Millions Knives? I have your mate, come out!”

“Doctor!” Luida shouted, wisely staying back as the man jumped and stared at her wildly. The tip of the blade pressed against the soft underside of Vash’s chin.

“L-Luida,” the alien whimpered quietly, aloud, closing his teary eyes shut. The sound of his voice wrenched in her eardrums and her gut, pulling her stumbling into the room.

“Get back!” Conrad bellowed, “do not listen to this siren! We have all been deceived! I saw it. I saw Millions Knives!”

“Luida,” Vash tried again, she was getting used to hearing his voice aloud even though it almost immediately gave her an excruciating migraine. “Luida, help me! Please!”

Conrad shouted something unintelligible, he jerked the knife harder against Vash’s skin. It was a standard butter knife, it wouldn’t slice skin, but Vash let out a strangled gurgle, struggling anew.

“Why won’t you change?” Conrad demanded, jerking him in his arms like a rag doll, “why won’t you show everyone what you truly are? Disarm me! Show them!”

He pulled his arm back, preparing to drive the knife into Vash’s unprotected throat. Luida screamed when a gunshot boomed in her ears and Conrad fell back against the wall with a shout. Vash pulled away, whimpering, crying, running straight into Brad’s waiting arms.

“Brad?!” Luida cried. He was holding his service weapon in his hand, staring at it past the blond fluff of Vash’s head buried in his chest.

“I…” He whispered, gaping at Conrad moaning in pain on the ground, at Vash against his chest, his gun. He dropped it, hesitantly cradling Vash close, rocking in time with the alien’s hitching sobs. No one moved, or spoke, not really knowing what to do.

“Move.”

Luida startled, jerking to look behind her, along with everyone else, to see Nai standing behind them, breathless and terrifying. He hadn’t changed shape or size, yet it seemed as if he’d expanded to fill the entire corridor, an ominous shadow of oppressive presence. Sweat beaded at her hairline, her heart thudded loudly in her ears, and the alien prowled through the crowd, easily retrieving his twin from Brad’s arms. Vash buried his face against Nai’s neck, wailing strange words that had everyone wincing, tears dropping down his cheeks in a steady flow.

“What…what happened? Where were you?” Luida dared to ask. Nai stared at her, and she patted her chest, realizing she didn’t have her portable translator clipped to her shirt. He sighed, and then, alarmingly, he replied.

“I had left him with Vash to get help.”

His voice didn’t have such a harsh effect as Vash’s, his smooth tenor was quite soothing, balancing out Vash’s melodic cries.

“I had attempted to…bridge a gap.”

“What do you mean?”

“We cannot speak this way for long,” he said quickly. He carefully placed his hand over Vash’s mouth and his cries were muffled, though he didn’t struggle. He only nodded, dropping his forehead to Nai’s clavicle, going quiet, though he sniffled softly.

“We don’t want to hurt you. Retrieve the translator. I will say nothing else aloud. Apologies.”

Luida winced when the softness his voice brought cracked into more discomfort, headache blooming in her temples and base of her skull. A quick glance around showed everyone else in similar states of pain. Medical was emptied of painkillers and ibuprofen, all distributed amongst the crew who’d been nearby, and they watched the med staff roll Conrad away on a stretcher. The old man was unconscious, bullet wound tightly dressed and wrapped, and would be kept that way until they could get to the bottom of what had happened, until they knew he wasn’t a danger to himself or others.

The rest of the crew slowly filtered their way back to their quarters, some lingering to look at Vash bundled in Nai’s arms before they, too, inevitably lost interest and left. When they were finally alone, Luida sighed, clipping her microphone on, passing one to Nai. He took it, his cold fingers brushing against hers and she shuddered. He paused, wincing.

“Sorry,” Luida muttered, taking her hand back, rubbing warmth back into her fingers.

“I AM THE ONE WHO IS SORRY,” Nai replied, showing as much earnestness he could in his expression. “THERE IS MUCH I HAVE NOT DIVULGED. TO SPARE YOU CONFUSION. THIS MACHINE, THOUGH CAPABLE OF MUCH TRANSLATION, IS LIMITED IN UNDERSTANDING. TO HUMAN UNDERSTANDING.”

“Let me clarify something before we continue,” Brad murmured, not taking his eyes off Vash, who’d fallen asleep against Nai’s chest, cheek pressed to bare skin. “You understand us perfectly, translator not required.”

“IT TOOK SOME TIME, CATALOGUING YOUR LANGUAGE. UNDERSTANDING IT. WE HAD NO CONCEPT OF TIME, ADRIFT FOR SO LONG. WE FORGOT HOW TO THINK.”

Luida knew there was something lost in translation in his explanation, though she understood well enough. She, too, would probably forget how to act or speak properly if left in isolation for so many years.

“How long?” Brad asked, voice still dangerously quiet and calm, “how long have you understood us without the translator?”

“NOT LONG,” Nai assured. Luida wasn’t sure if he could believe him. “IT HELPED BETTER TRANSLATION. SHORTLY BEFORE TRANSFORMATION OUR UNDERSTANDING CAME TO BE.”

“This transformation,” Luida nodded her head, “you wouldn’t tell us about it before. Tell us now. I think you owe us that much.”

Nai looked down at Vash in his arms. He ran his fingertips over his brother’s forehead, his shoulder.

“PROTECT HIM. TOO SMALL, BEFORE. HAD TO BE BIG. BODY RIGHT.”

His sentences had devolved, his expression melted into something like tenderness, a devotion that had Luida’s heart throbbing.

“He’s more than just your twin, than a brother.”

Nai looked at her, truly looked at her. She was lost in his ocean eyes.

“WE ARE TIMELESS. WE ARE ONE. TWO PIECES OF A WHOLE.”

“Brothermate,” she nodded. Nai chuckled quietly—a quick stab of pain at her temple—and brushed Vash’s hair from his forehead.

“YOUR MACHINE IS LIMITED TO HUMAN UNDERSTANDING,” he repeated himself.

“What about my dreams,” Brad demanded suddenly.

“DREAMS,” Nai asked, wrinkling his brow. “WHAT ARE DREAMS?”

“They happen when we sleep,” Luida explained. “Our subconscious projects images, thoughts, they could be memories or new scenarios, sometimes ridiculous, sometimes happy, sometimes upsetting. But they exist only in our minds, in our imagination. Brad’s had some pretty…upsetting dreams lately, involving you and Vash.”

“I AM SORRY, FRIEND BRAD. WHATEVER YOU HAVE DREAMT, WE HAVE NO CONTROL OVER IT,” Nai said.

Brad didn’t look all that happy with that response.  

“Could it have something to do with how you can’t speak out loud? What is it about your voice that affects us like this?”

“I AM NOT A SCIENTIST,” Nai laughed quietly again, “VASH WAS, BEFORE HIS MIND WAS BROKEN BY ISOLATION. HE COULD HAVE EXPLAINED IT.”

“Really?” Luida asked, smiling. “No offense but I never would’ve imagined…”

“HE WAS SO INTELLIGENT,” Nai said, staring down at his twin fondly, the machine somehow picking up on the pure affection in the alien’s thoughts. “ONE OF THE GREATEST MINDS OF OUR SPECIES. A HEAD OF THE HIVE. MASTERFUL. I AM AN INSTRUMENT. A TOOL, IN COMPARISON.”

“What happened?”

“THE GRIEF IS STILL TOO GREAT. I DO NOT WISH TO SPEAK OF IT.” Nai said.

“I don’t buy it.”

“Brad…”

They were standing behind the observation glass, watching Conrad sleep in a medicated coma.

“He never explained what he meant by ‘bridging a gap,’ why Conrad reacted the way he did, or why their voices hurt us. Not to mention the fact that they’ve been lying to us. They’ve understood us perfectly for months now.”

“Even I can understand actions taken out of self-preservation,” Luida sighed, turning from the window. “If they let on how much they understood us, we might’ve been suspicious. We might’ve changed how we treated them.”

“I don’t like it. At all. I don’t buy a single thing he says,” Brad crossed his arms. “Luida, I didn’t shoot Conrad on purpose. I never would have drawn my gun, let alone fired it. And it’s terrifying me that no one seems to care that I shot a man! It was like I was ordered to. I couldn’t stop it. My body moved on its own.”

“Adrenaline in high-stress situations can make anyone behave strangely, or do things they never would’ve usually done,” Luida shrugged it off.

“Why are you so calm about this?” Brad hissed.

“I just…” she sighed. Brad watched her. It’s not that she’d been acting any differently, from the start she was protective of the twins, but now this was just blind ignorance. Willful ignorance.

“Fine,” Brad sighed, “leave it for now, then. Don’t blame me if you wake up with a probe up your ass with Nai demanding us to take him to our leader.”

“That’s awful,” she laughed, smacking his arm.

With Conrad gone, the main project—to learn as much from and about the twins as possible—stalled. Brad and Luida still spent their days with them, speaking with them, watching them eat, sleep, but there were no other tests or sets of questions asked. The twins simply existed aboard the colony ship.

Brad was called back to his old station across the ship, in the engineering wing, and Luida, Vash and Nai all watched him pack, said their goodbyes. Vash looked saddest to see him go, whining quietly and hanging off him as he tried to walk to the inter-wing shuttle.

“Hey, I’ll visit, alright?” Brad assured, but Luida knew he’d probably never come back. He gave her a look over Vash’s shoulder, a quick, cheeky salute, and then he was gone. Nai held Vash’s neck as he sniffled. And that was that.

After their last conversation with Nai, when he spoke of Vash’s broken mind, a lot of the smaller twin’s behavior made much more sense. He wasn’t acting childish out of any attempt to mislead them, he just was.

His scribbles on paper looked less like mindless chicken scratch and more like star charts, deconstructed formulas with strange symbols in the place of human letters and numbers. When he stared into space, or directly at Luida, it was unnerving, yes, but now that she knew there was a reason for that blank stare, it wasn’t nearly as frightening as it had been. She couldn’t imagine what sort of torment it was for a brilliant mind to fight against such a fracturing.

Maybe it was for that reason she didn’t see it coming.

Luida woke like she did any other day, silenced her alarm, stretched, and sighed, satisfied when her spine popped. She dressed as she always did, donning her standard uniform, toed into her shoes, and stepped out into the corridor. It was quiet. Usually there were a few other crew members heading back and forth, carrying out their daily routine as they had for the past month. Odd, but not alarming.

She got her morning coffee, ate a small bowl of yogurt and granola, trying to ignore the gritty, artificial flavor and texture of the food as she chewed. Her new research partner wasn’t even at his usual station in their makeshift office, though there were hints that he’d been there, a steaming mug of coffee sat dangerously close to the electric panel and she removed it, placing it on the table behind her. She paused when her foot scuffed over some scattered papers.

Vash’s doodles, hundreds of them, were spread out over the floor. She sighed, bending to pick them up. Most of it was gibberish, some were startlingly accurate readings of their current star position, carefully scrawled letters of his and Nai’s name over and over on a few sheets from when he’d practiced one day, after Luida showed him their alphabet. Closer to the bottom was a printout, not a doodle or handwritten page. She looked closer.

It was a food order, of some kind. A ludicrous amount of fresh meat had been ordered weeks ago, her signature at the bottom, as well as Brad’s as co-signer. She frowned. She didn’t remember placing such an order. Under the printout was another one, indicating delivery of the order, as well as a written warning from mission control about the amount ordered. It wasn’t sent to the kitchens, but to a sublevel storage container.

She stood slowly, noting the location of the container. She wondered…

Luida left a note for her partner before she took the printouts and left, heading for the elevator. She hadn’t bothered to leave the research wing since arriving, she hadn’t needed to since they brought all her belongings over to their new rooms. Each wing of the colony was built to be self-sufficient and self-sustaining.

It was quiet. She didn’t see anyone in the endless corridors and halls as she walked, faster and faster, from a brisk walk to a jog, to a sprint. No one. There was no one. She boarded the automatic, inter-wing shuttle, and stared out the window at the stations as they flashed by. No passengers were waiting to board. She arrived in the engineering wing. It, too, lay in messy devastation. The colony had been emptied.

Trash and other refuse lay scattered all over the floors along with smears of…she couldn’t look at it. This wasn’t fresh chaos. She didn’t get the sense that she just missed some frantic attack or evacuation. Whatever happened here happened a while ago. Weeks ago. Perhaps even months. The…blood…was rust dark, dry and flaky beneath her feet as she ran.

The temperature shifted the deeper she went. She was sweating and breathless by the time she reached the last elevator she’d need to get to the sublevels. It was humid, damp, like a competing atmosphere was mixing with their own. It was difficult to breathe, and it was hot.

She stripped off her jacket as she ran, swiping sweat from her brow. Garbage and blood made way to strange growth all over the walls, it looked secreted, organic. It looked like the interior of the ship they’d rescued Vash and Nai from. Her shoes slipped and squeaked through fresh…bile. The same secretion lining the walls. But this was fresh, stinking, putrid and wet and not at all resinous and solid like the intricacies of the walls and ceilings.

She heard humming, nothing electrical, nothing mechanical. It was carefree, warm and inviting. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest when Vash rounded the corner. He didn’t look surprised to see her, in fact he looked expectant, glowing eyes wide in the humid dim. He was nude, save intricate little decorations in shining black along his collarbones, cheekbones, forehead, leading into his hair, along his forearms, legs, like a black jeweled beetle.

He’d grown a little larger, the size of a fully adult male, though he was still fluid and lithe, a jogger or swimmer’s body compared to his brother’s pure hulking muscle. She prayed Nai wasn’t around.

“Luida,” Vash breathed, the sound of his voice entered her eardrums and her brain like a fog of toxic fumes. “I’m so pleased you saved me the trouble of hunting you down.”

“Vash,” she said.

“Come,” he held his hand out, his usually missing hand. Instead there was a chitinous carapace of a thing lining along seemingly fresh sinew and muscle. It was black and shining, like his patterns, the innards glowed purple. His fingertips were elongated, sharpened, they dripped a clear substance that fell to the ground with little hisses and puffs of smoke.

“Come and See.”

She ran. She didn’t get far, though she’d tried. Vash’s laughter and calling echoed sickeningly through the halls, she shrieked and yelled and screamed for help but there was no one left. It was just her, and the creature hunting her in its new bower.

When he caught her he was gentle. She wasn’t hurt save for possibly a sprained wrist when he settled his full weight onto her, pinning her arms and legs.

“Easy, Luida, just breathe,” he cajoled. He hadn’t even broken a sweat, his breathing was even and smooth. Not at all like he’d just chased her at full sprint down several corridors.

“When did you have time to…to…” Luida stammered, sobbing.

“Time to do all this?” Vash asked, glancing around at the organic growths over the walls. It wasn’t what she meant, though Vash knew that.

“When you slept,” Vash answered brightly, “I’m sorry we lied. We do not require sleep, and so we didn’t. Your kind have managed so much, have come so far, for effectively sleeping away half your lifespans.” He tutted, “but that’s all over now.”

“Wha…what…?”

“You have questions. I know. I won’t show you too much,” Vash whispered fiercely in her ear, “Nai made a good test of Conrad. I know how much to show, I know what you can handle.”

His dripping, clawed finger dug into her ear canal and she screamed.

Images and sounds flashed in her mind, like the worst raging migraine, the most vivid nightmare she’d ever experienced only much, much worse. There were visions of ancient civilizations and peoples she’d never seen before, crumbling in the other’s wake. The Other. Vash and Nai only it wasn’t just them, it was All. Everything. They were the far void, the places between stars that were the blackest black, the deepest, coldest depths of space beyond all light or understanding.

She was battered and bruised by legions of frightened innocents running, screaming, all pursued by the same intelligence. One Mind. Many Bodies. His Mind. She was trampled, she was scorched alive, she was devoured, ingested piece by piece by hundreds, thousands, millions of creatures all formed from that one cold intellect. The Thing that only knew how to consume.

There was no malice, there was no goal. No hatred, no motive. There was only the idea, a concept of an end that would come for everyone and everything eventually. Entropy and decay.

Vash was only a vessel, the latest and prettiest, made in humankind’s image. He and Nai had snapped into their new forms as easily as breathing when they first watched Brad and Luida stumble their clumsy way through the derelict craft they’d called home for some years, stranded and alone.

They’d only just depleted their stores. Their food gone, they’d resorted to eating of themselves. Nai could only produce so much until all he had left was cold and harsh, metallic and undigestible. Vash could only eat of himself once, the arm. A simple sacrifice, easily replaced once proper sustenance was found. Nai, the weapon, did not require food, everything would go to Vash, everything would prepare him and fatten him for what was to come.

They would be sweet. They would be kind. They would be dumb. They would be anything the humans wanted them to be. Pretty little things that would play at helplessness, yearning for the sweet touch of a mother or a friend. They had been alone for so long, you see, and they would be good. They had no kin, no family, because all there was, was Vash. Their planet, if they ever had one, was long gone, consumed by time and possibly even Vash himself. It would be nothing but a cold empty rock, now, devoid of any life.

That was what awaited Earth.

“Oh, oh, shhh…shhh…” Vash hushed her, cradling her head against his chest like she was an infant. She cried, trying to pull away. He smelled like rotten meat, he felt oily and wrong against her cheek, his skin felt like it was on fire. Her ear was moist and disgusting, on the inside, it made her shiver all over in disgust.

“We like you, Luida,” he murmured, his breath hot and fetid, it made her eyes water, “we like Brad, too, so you’ll both come with us. You’ll be our pets, isn’t that lovely? We’ll care for you. Brad will fertilize my eggs because he’s such a good boy. I’ve longed to speak with you plainly. My darling brother is useful, I love him so, but he is not of like mind. You, however, from the start, have proven to be patient, understanding, intelligent. Not like that Conrad.”

He spat the man’s name, a spike of pain shot through her skull.

“Foolish man, rejecting my brother so. How dare he? Even after Nai showed him his beautiful true form.” He spoke as if he was genuinely asking Luida her opinion. “Not even worth eating, that one. We put him through the airlock.”

“Why the farce,” she demanded through the pain, “why wait so long if you were just going to kill us anyway? Why all the lies? The acting?”

“We work fast but not that fast,” Vash laughed, tapping her nose, “a bit of stalling is necessary. As is a little farce. I had to completely rebuild our stores, after all. Even though our capabilities vastly outweigh your own, it is only the two of us. A slow death, a slow conquering, is so much easier than a brute assault. We’ve learned that. We’ve had so many years to learn that the best way to do it is through a little fun.”

“Where’s the rest of the crew…?” She asked quietly. Vash’s smile was nothing short of menacing. All teeth and wild eyes.

“We told them we needed meat to survive,” he answered gleefully, “it’s not my problem if they couldn’t provide for us properly. We had to take the next best thing. Did you know that each individual sublevel compartment can be kept at freezing temperatures? Ideal for food storage, lots and lots of storage.”

Luida could only stammer, blood dribbling from her nose. Vash licked it away with a hum, keeping his wide, baleful eyes on her all the while.

“You taste so tempting! But let me take you down, Luida, let me take you to Brad, you can be together while my brother and I finish preparing.”

“No…” she moaned pathetically when he lifted her laughably easy, throwing her over his shoulder like a piece of meat. She closed her eyes, trying not to vomit over the backs of his naked thighs as he walked, skipped, through the humid carnage that was the colony’s sublevels.

“Please don’t eat someone in front of me again,” she heard Brad groan after they rounded a corner, entering a surprisingly clean room, relatively anyway. "I'll throw up on you, and I won’t miss this time.”

“Brad, you’re so funny. We’re not going to eat Luida,” Vash laughed, like Brad was stupid. She cried out when she was unceremoniously dumped onto the floor. Brad was there in an instant, pulling her away from the alien’s feet.

“Be good,” Vash said, wagging a finger, “don’t make me bring you back down here again, Brad. Remember, Nai’s watching!”

He turned on his heel and left, humming as he meandered down the halls, off to do who knows what.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Brad gushed, patting her from head to toe, checking her over, wiping at the blood under her nose.

“No, no, I’m…well, not fine, but I’m fine,” Luida gasped, pulling him into a quick hug.

“Welcome to my world,” Brad groaned.

“How long have you been down here?”

“Since I left for engineering,” he sighed, “the fuckers didn’t even wait for me to find out what the rest of the colony looked like.”

“Is there anyone else?” Luida asked, fearing she already knew the answer. Brad’s grim expression, the shake of his head, confirmed it. “Where’s Nai?”

“He’s…” Brad glanced around, sighing, “he’s everywhere, Luida. I don’t know how to describe it. He’ll show himself eventually, if he feels like it. If he’s feeling particularly chatty.” He elbowed the wall. A metallic groaned echoed through the room.

After a few restless hours of silence, and a few more, and a few more, Luida was fighting to stay awake. She shut her eyes one moment, and the next she opened them to see she’d been moved to the far corner of the room, placed on a cot, a blanket thrown haphazardly over her legs, and Vash and Nai were moving together over the floor, fluidly fucking so smoothly and quietly she would’ve mistaken them for one single breathing being, writhing with life.

“Nai,” Vash sighed, dropping his head back, expression twisted with the most exquisite pleasure. Nai was wrapped so fully around him, powerful arms and thighs keeping him lifted as he drove his cock into his brother, over and over. The difference in their size, their anatomy, was nauseating, enrapturing. The edges of Nai’s body bled out into blurry impressions of flashing blades, bunching and writhing with their rhythm, blinding in their rainbow brilliance full of fractals. The tinkling and grinding of metal echoed in the room.

“It’s fun to watch at first, I guess, I don’t blame you. It’s like a pornographic kaleidoscope,” Brad drawled next to her. She jumped. “After hours of that, though, it’s gonna get annoying real quick.”

“Mmmm…my conditioning had the opposite effect on you,” Vash moaned sweetly, “my precious fertilizer didn’t like my lessons, what a shame.”

“Here’s a hint for next time, listen to your brother, yeah? Slow is better.”

“Slow is nice,” Vash allowed, tightening his legs around his brother’s hips, coaxing him into a faster pace, “but I hate waiting—mhnn! Ah! Nai—!”

His orgasmic cries left Luida lightheaded and blinking away irritated tears, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away when Nai pressed Vash into the floor, holding his hips still and legs open as he drew his cock out, but not completely. It was a massive, girthy and long thing. It was sea foam green with hints of a flush here and there, coated in pink slick from Vash’s cunt. Even from a distance, Luida could make out fine, segmented ridges and bulges, barbs, all in neat natural lines accented with deeper blues and greens. She squeezed her thighs together and Vash chuckled.

“Don’t worry, precious Luida, he won’t fuck you if you don’t want him to,” he grinned.

The length bulged at the base, something round formed, then dropped, sinking down the wet inches of flesh until it prodded at Vash’s entrance. The smaller alien sighed, going lax as it popped inside, audibly so. Eggs. Luida swallowed thickly, forcing herself to look away when more were forced down Nai’s length and into Vash’s waiting body. Finally, after what seemed like way too long, Nai pushed himself off Vash with a gushing breath, pulling free.

“Brad,” Nai grunted, the first word he spoke since Luida was brought down.

“Put your blades away, freak, I’m on it,” Brad sighed, standing.

“Brad…?” Luida grabbed for his arm but he pulled away, not looking at her.

“Just…just watch the wall for awhile, yeah?” he murmured, glancing back at the ground by her feet.

“No,” Vash panted with a smile, “bring her here, Nai, make her watch. I want her to. It should be interesting for her, I think.”

“No,” Brad growled, trying to get between her and the older alien brother, but it was like Nai was there, and then he wasn’t. His form melted. He was standing in front of Brad, looming over him, and then he was the floor, the walls, everything and everywhere. Luida shuddered, biting down a scream when fingers—blades—dug into her bicep, pulling her upright. Nai was there, beside her, dragging her and yet also, somehow, dragging Brad at the same time.

“Nai and I are complete beings, this we’ve said, this you know,” Vash narrated when Nai pushed Brad forward, down into a kneel between Vash’s legs. “But the last planet we visited, the last civilization, was far more advanced than yours. They could…fight back. They ruined me, inside, in a way I cannot fix.”

Nai made a mournful sound and Vash cooed, looking up at him adoringly.

“However, I made a discovery. The piece of me that was carved out, that enabled me to fertilize the eggs Nai so graciously gives me, wasn’t our only means of doing so. Your species, somehow, like some cosmic joke, is compatible.”

He laughed, breathless, when Brad pulled his pants down and pressed his cock inside, where Nai had been not even a minute before. It was a vagina, yet not. Thin lips spread around Brad’s length but he didn’t have any outward genitalia, just an absurd amount of bright pink slick that coated Brad’s cock and groin in an instant. His stomach bulged obscenely from the number of eggs inside him, they were pushed around with each of Brad’s sloppy thrusts.

“Need my help?” Vash cooed, raising his hand. The black, taloned one that oozed a clear fluid from the sharp fingertips. Brad leaned away with a grimace.

“No, no, just…just gimme a minute,” Brad huffed, hunkering down, rocking his hips faster. He steadfastly refused to meet Luida’s eyes. Nai’s grip was harsh, growing tighter by the second.

“We will stay awhile aboard this ship,” Vash moaned, breath hitching with each of Brad’s thrusts, “until the first clutch has hatched, at least. They will feed, they will grow, with any luck a breeding pair will be among them and we can continue on to Earth. If not,” he shrugged, and Brad grunted, hips jerking, “then we try again.”

“Breeding pair, like you and Nai,” Luida spoke quietly.

“Very good,” Vash replied, smiling at her. “It will be their duty to spread our life on Earth. Maybe Nai and I will stay as well, make sure the seed takes. We aren’t as efficient as we could’ve been, not anymore,” he pressed his hand on top of his swollen stomach. “Once the human race is extinguished we will no longer have the means to procreate, rendering us useless.”

“But…but why humans? Why Earth?” Luida gasped, holding back more tears. Vash moaned quietly when Brad finished inside him, locking his legs tight around his waist to hold him in place. He laughed a little, gazing up at her with pleasure blurred eyes.

“I suppose it’s within any intelligent civilization’s nature to think themselves special.”

Nai kissed him, his tongue was a bladed thing, sharp and cruel and blood trickled between their lips as they hungrily chased each other’s breath, looking all the world like they wanted to swallow each other whole. If Brad and Luida weren’t in the room, perhaps they would’ve.

“You’re not. Special, that is,” Vash clarified when he surfaced for air. He pushed Brad away and Nai easily slid into place between his legs, slotting in deep again as easy breathing. Brad retreated to the corner, not meeting Luida’s eyes.

Hot tears fell down her cheeks. She wasn’t being held in place by Nai anymore. But she couldn’t move. She just sat there, staring at the two—the one being—fucking on the floor. Vash peered up at her, eyes glowing slits, gleeful at her despair.

“You’re just unlucky.”