Chapter Text
There was sharp pain in his ribs. Twisting and stabbing and dragging, sharp claws ripping at soft flesh. He’d given them a run for his money, with teeth and nails and unrelenting anger. The downfall Etho was the adrenaline. He shouldn’t have stayed behind to help Fenwey, he shouldn't have saved him. The buggy had collapsed onto his teammates leg, and, in true panic with the adrenaline rush, Etho lifted the 1,700 pound buggy. Fenwey ram, and Etho seized up not long after he dropped the hunk of metal, and he got caught.
“Well, we believe it’s a human, Sir.”
Etho grimaced at the static of his translator, watching the creatures around him with big eyes and a shut mouth, they didn’t know he could understand them. His translator has picked up on speech patterns after a few hours in captivity, and now, five days later, it was reliably relaying information to him as he tried to think of a way to escape.
Humans were not… they were not in large numbers off earth. Etho didn’t know the whole situation, perks to not paying attention In intergalactic relations seminars and just not caring, but out of everyone of his crew, he’d been the one poached.
He'd just been doing his job! His fucking government assigned job, but still his job! Etho had a genetic trait that made it easier for him to withstand extreme pressure changes and temperatures, and that trait was so needed, the ConCorp tried to clone him at first, and whne that didn’t work and all they got was the equivalent of a caveman with mommy issues, they decide to just send him out on a team for exploration instead. He’d gotten military grade training, permission to commit war crimes, and a big load of terrible luck.
Anyone else in his situation would have even stressed out of their minds, and Etho was too, but he was chill about it, perks of being strung tighter than a banjo for 97% of his life. Most people would be weeping and gnashing their teeth, thinking of a way out, and Etho had been doing that for about 2 days before he realized how shitty his job was, and that if he stayed wherever the fuck he was, he got a bougie little cell (crate? Who knew) and they feed him twice a day, well he thinks it’s twice a day, all his implant technology didn’t exactly have an earth synced clock anywhere. Sure he had weird little eyes staring at him most of the time, and they talked about him, which he had to pretend he couldn’t hear, but as long as they weren’t trying dissect him, he’d figured he’d be fine.
This place had a lot of perks! A bed, food, climate control, breathable air, sure he was bored out of his mind, but he’d take a bed in a prison cell on a weird ass spaceship, over digging through dumpsters for lunch on a planet where you can’t see the sun through the bill boards and over passes. He could just pretend and imagine he’s home again, for those three years he spent on the ocean, on the barge, where there was real grass and real animals. If he closed his eyes, and covered his ears, he could pretend he was sitting on the tarmac, under the ocean sun, watching the sea gulls as Giddy laid on a blanket beside him.
Etho settled back onto the bed, watching the creatures that where watching him. His vocal translator had shut off automatically as soon as they had dragged him away from his crew and his ship, and he hadn’t spoken a word since anyways. If he was being honest, he liked his chances as a science experiment better than as a space rover.
Etho was eating his words. This was awful, terrible, horrible. For four weeks, he’d been observed, studied and just looked at. Then they got brave. They’d beckon him to the edge of his cage, try to get him to reach through the bars, to touch these weird pad things. They were actually toxin pads, checking to see if Ethos touch was dangerous, it wasn’t, not really. And soon they began to reach in. Etho found that the only spot they couldn’t reach him, was under the bed, and that was where he began to spend most of his time. Pressed against the metal floor, walls and underside of the bed. And then he spoke.
They treated him like a barking dog, with discipline. It did not work.
Then they began to take him out. Cold limbs wrapped around his own and dragging him out. They got their first taste of humanity’s power that day, whatever species this was, they had hard exoskeletons, claw-like limbs, and big big eyes. Etho, angry that they wouldn’t stop touching him, attacked them as soon as they brought him out.
Dull teeth with so much force in its bite, nails that could not cut, but could pry, and the soft body that let him absorb blows. Etho almost got out. And he screamed at them, high and shrill and making these aliens pitch and shrivel, his voice was not loud, not by human standards, but he was booming to these things apparently.
He did more damage in the two minutes he was out of his cage than they could ever do to each other.
They put more restrictions on his cage, on him. Cuffs and a collar, a mask that silenced him, and they fed him less and less. They dragged him out to observe and study, locking him down, scanning him, tracing all the soft parts of him, entranced by a creature so… soft and vulnerable but so dangerous. With no seemingly innate ability, no power or others, Etho was something so strange, they had to study him. And Etho did all he could to remain level headed and calm, panic had never helped him. Besides, this was the first captive situation he had been in, and it probably wouldn't be the last, that is, if he got out.
He had been dragged out of his cell, shoved to the lab, pushed to a table, fighting back was useless, he was one, and there was so many of them. But Etho kicked at the big one, Tevvna, a seven pana old male of the Genri’tac. As far as Etho could tell, a pana was one revolution around the Amraia Galaxy, done by the Hiis wormhole, and they used that as their version years in this quadrant of the universe, and the speed at which wormholes spin their galaxies was extremely uniform. Ah, and a pana was 3.2 years. Also as Etho discovered, most species around this sliver of the galaxy lived to about 10-12 pana old.
Tevvna had pinned Etho to the table, and the metal cuffs locked into place, leaving Etho helpless. Did he mention that they really didn’t wear clothes? The Genei’tac. All Etho had to cover himself was fabric scraps from curtains that they had given him after they’d taken his clothes. He’d hidden under his bed, refused to budge, took them a while to figure out that humans, much like Abronincs, had a sense of shame, and wanted to keep themselves covered.
It was of no use to Etho, as his little bit of coverage was stripped way as soon as he was placed on the table.
“We should take the temperature again, last time it was nearly 15 Degrees!” Etho didn’t know what unit of measurement they used or what was the conversion but he hated when they took his temperature, their thermometer was weird, a metal band that wrapped around his neck and pushed in ever so slightly. It was worse than the collar (which he had recently discovered was a shock collar). He counted himself lucky that he was really the only being on this whole ship with a sense of empathy, because he’d die of shame any other way.
Maybe he'll die anyway, this was no longer “live laugh love”able. He knew the chances of a rescue team were like- negative, and the chances he’d get out his own was roughly the same. But the worst part had to be whenever he tried to talk to them (when Etho made Seinfeld references because he was stressed) they thought he was barking. Apparently these fucks had a concept of earth creatures, just not the main fucking inhabitants. ‘Oh, they're hard to catch’ yeah well why did Etho have to be the first one? Could they have ruined someone else’s day?
But honestly, the barking thing got to him. Sure he wasn’t a great test subject, but did they have to imply he was furry? Not that they had any concept of furries (fucks don’t have a concept is shame either) but Etho was reeling from the constant “down boy” and “sit, stay,” if this kept going he was actually coming to start barking and bite the werid praying mantis arms off this motherfucker. (Maybe he should turn his vocal translator back on, they’d already seen the various lumps of metal implanted in him, they just didn’t know what they were there for! And Etho would give them a heart attack if they’d been experimenting on him for the last 3 months and suddenly he could speak their language.)
Etho squirmed, trying to get out, if they were going to treat him like an animal, then he was going to act like one. It may have been luck, it may have been providence, but Ethos ‘misbehavior’ over the last week had earned him nothing but steady and powerful shocks, shocks that he was now much better at fighting past.
Tevvna and the other one, Ceusroc? where watching him, as he writhed, and perhaps in horror, or idle fascination, they didn’t not try to stop him. Loud pops echoed in the room, accompanied by Ethos sharp gasps and the horrified trills of the two Genri’tac. Etho dislocated his shoulder to twisted himself around and get his head sideways, so it could slide out from under the metal placeholder easier. His thumbs were next, quick and practiced (normally he would be concerned that it was painless, but he figured ‘fuck it, we roll.’) there was a band over his ankels, which was easy enough to worm past, and with proper form and power (perks of never skipping leg day) Etho popped the bolts of the band over his hips, and was up on his feet before the Genri’tac could really process what was happening.
They stood shocked still, and Etho took the chance to turn his vocal translator back on. A hand at the back of his neck, pressing in, waiting for a soft click, and his other hand, dug into the underside of his jaw, the ache of his nails was nothing compared to the sensation of the switch and the manual boot up of the technology. He was lucky to stay on his feet.
“Mother fucker, that hurts like a bitch….” There was silence for a moment, as Etho reeled from the pain and the Genri’tac reeled from shock.
“You can talk?!?”
“Well not with my translator turned off!” Etho was strangely calm, like he hadn’t been poked and prodded for fucking weeks. Whatever, he knew they had no reason to kill him, and no way to either. They talked a lot about how strong humans were, and how they couldn’t kill them, didn’t know how, and then they also had been back and forth over whether or not Etho was an actual human, or something else. They always seemed to settle on something else.
He grabbed the cover cloth of the table, wrapping it around himself as a toga sort of thing, and seriously considered punching one of these fucks.
“Your… translator?”
“Yeah, my translator, implant technology, ya know? All the weird metal you wouldn’t touch.” The technology in question buzzed away as Etho spoke, translating as quickly as he spoke, filling in gaps where his dialect didn’t align with their language. Etho voice was filled with spite and vitriol, it seemingly came across the translation well enough.
The two Genri’tac stood shock still, backed up to a wall, their antennas clicking away in what Etho assumed was distress. “If it makes any difference,” which he knew it did, “I am human, by the way.” and his two captors backed even further away, trying to scurry out of the room, he was quick to stop them. “Now, now, thats bad manners, wont even tell me where we are? Whos flag we are under? What's our destination?”
“Thats for personnel only-”
“So i guess that not all your guests receive the hospitality i did? Great to know,” Etho, wobbly on his feet but nonetheless imposing, circled around the rolling cart, the tools were designed not for human hands, but that didn't bother him. A knife was a knife in his books. “Look, i know that i have no way of getting off this shipfor, most likely, a very long time. But that also mean, you all have no was of getting rid of me, i suggest you tell me what's going on and where we are headed, or your crew will be two men down.”
“We’ll… we’ll call our commander.” The shorter Genri’tac, Ceusroc, stuttered out, his spines pitching upward from his hard exoskeleton, he was afraid, great.
Etho did not have to wait long, scalpel spinning in his hands and two terrified Genri’tac across from him, when the commander entered the room. It was… not what Etho expected. It was a Glare, and Etho didnt know much about Glares, but he didnt think they looked like that… strangely humanoid, albeit with an extra set of arms, grey-green skin, and eyes so big and glowing that it made Etho grimace. The commander was light on their feet, damn near weightless, and silent where they stepped, and their…cover? Long and green and filled with life, plant life. This one was rather bland from what Etho had heard, mostly just willow fronds all weaved together and flowers.
It spoke lowly, swiftly, a language Etho could barely understand without the translator, but one he knew. And then it turned to him, and much to his surprise (and relief) addressed him in standard Galatic.
But it shocked him, when the commander asked where Etho came from, what transport line and who was he shipping.
“I'm not… i'm from Concorp, a front line exploratory trooper. Im not… from a shipping line.”
“You- are not what we are looking for,”
“You couldn't have come to that conclusion a month ago?!” Chill out Etho, you've got the upper hand here, sort of. “Look, this has been a real great time-” can the sarcasm, they probably don't understand it, “but i think it would be better for everyone involved if you gave me back to my company.”
The glare seemed to think, for a moment. Its face was unreadable, from what Etho could see. It was shadowy and hidden, but Etho could see the sneer, the sharp teeth, the face that seemed so human, it was gut wrenching. “No.” The commander clicked, as if he was talking, and Etho realized it was probably a name in a native tongue, “-Get the Helfon and the creeper, we have a bargaining chip now,” Ceusroc scrambled out of the room, following orders. Etho backed up, he knew of creepers, they were these huge, explosive creatures, built like lions and so much more dangerous, napalm in their lungs, acidic blood, the bite force of an alligator. They walked on four legs, and still had arms, covered in dense fur that was waterproof. Etho had dispatched a few in this time, there was one weak spot, under their sternum, where the flesh could easily be punched through.
He could take a creeper, even with… minimal protection, and weaponry, Etho could kill a creeper. Etho couldn't say much about Helfons, because he didn't know what they were.
“Come on man, either let me go home, or ill find my own… way… back…. Oh fuck.” Etho froze as that… thing came through the door. That was NOT a creeper. THAT WAS NOT A CREEPER!
It was mottled green, thick fur, four long and thick legs, normally creepers had very short legs, but this was… legs like a lion, with dangerous hooves instead of paws, a short tail, and up the body, it was so… human looking. Studded with metal and electronics and it was sewn together.
It was like nothing Etho had ever seen, it was a monster.