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They have managed to fuck up before even setting foot on Pandora. Prager’s heart feels like it will beat out of his chest at any moment. He can’t even fully focus on the mandatory briefing their future on-base recom medic is currently giving them. It would’ve come in really handy about a couple of hours ago. Now he’s stuck with the feeling of something gnawing at him from the inside.
***
After Quaritch had finished his speech, the recoms had been left alone in the room with training weights to pass the time until the landing on Pandora. They were also given access to a smaller, dimmer room for those who needed to rest.
The weirdness of being born again was just starting to wear off. In truth, they were all quite happy to reunite with old pals and find out who had made it into the recom program, so the room filled with friendly banter quite quickly. Prager was sat alone on a training equipment crate, tightening his bandana while distractedly looking around the room, taking it all in. Most of the recoms had familiar faces, a couple of them he didn’t remember. But the one he was looking for in particular wasn’t present. Mansk wasn’t anywhere in sight, despite being right in front of him just minutes ago. He figured the man had gone to the designated resting area to have some peace before they landed. There wasn’t much to do in the main room, besides lifting weights and he wasn’t in the mood for that.
Prager decided to follow in his footsteps, and made his was to the quieter space, exiting the room unnoticed amid the noise. The hissing of the mechanical door announced his entry. He found the recom in there, laying down on his back in one of the beds. Strangely enough, he noticed the smell of him before he even saw him. It was light, like sandalwood. He found the luminous dots on their bodies funny, especially in the dimly-lit room.
Mansk’s eyes went from staring at the ceiling to Prager, and he sat up in a fluid motion, offering a small smile as a greeting and letting his guarded expression drop a little.
“Hey, man.”
“Hey.”
The room was small enough that all the beds in there weren’t that far apart. Prager sat on the bed opposite his so he could face Mansk. There was only a couple feet of distance between their knees.
Mansk had been a good friend as a human, and he’d always been good company despite not talking much. He pivoted towards him, ears perking expectantly. It made Prager laugh lightly and touch one of his own ears, feeling it twitch.
“This shit’s crazy! I mean, fuck, we’re blue fucking aliens now.”
“Hybrids, technically.”
Mansk corrected with a half smile. His tail tapped the bed, and he grabbed it curiously, studying it.
“But yes, there are much more sensations. It’s odd.”
“Odd? Insane you mean. Dunno if I’ll get used to it.”
Prager chuckled, tilting his head to reach for the braid covering the most sensitive part of his new body.
“Did you see the… weird thing in there?”
“Briefly.”
Mansk looked at Prager with interest as he uncovered the pink tendrils hidden in the end of the braid. They seemed alive, eager to grab onto something.
“Fuckin’ wild.”
The recom grinned, putting his finger close enough for the tendrils to latch onto. They emitted a faint glow, delicately wrapping around it. Mansk observed the spectacle silently, letting go of his tail to better focus on what was unfolding in front of him. Prager quickly took his finger back, shivering lightly.
“Feels weird as fuck. You should try it.”
“What’s it like?”
Mansk was looking at him with his big curious eyes, and suddenly Prager remembered those eyes from when they weren’t yellow, but human and blue, with that same curious expression. He quickly pushed that image away from his mind. It wasn’t the time to reminisce.
“Uh. Super sensitive. Like touching your hand with a feather but the feather is alive. And you feel what the feather feels.”
He’d never been the most eloquent one of the team, he left that to Mansk and Zhang. But it seemed clear enough for his eloquent teammate, who smiled, reaching for his braid and exposing his own weird-hair-thing. His seemed… Calmer in a way? Swaying gently like seaweed in calm waters, whereas Prager’s was agitated and chaotic like leaves in the wind.
He shifted slightly on the bed, leaning in closer to Mansk. As he did so, the wiggling bits seemed to naturally incline towards the other recom. Looking at Mansk’s side of things, he saw the same thing happening. The things moved and swayed like they wanted to reach each other.
“… Creepy. Kinda cool tho.”
Prager muttered, and Mansk nodded, a hint of apprehension clouding his gaze. Both their ears dropped a little with unsettlement.
“Kinda wanna see what happens if we, y’know. Join them.”
Prager’s eyes were darting between the wiggling things and Mansk’s eyes, looking for some kind of approval. He felt it wasn’t his brightest idea but also… How tempting. What would anyone else do with a brand-new alien body, other than find out all the weird things you can do with it?
“Let’s not do anything too stupid before landing.”
Mansk tutted, but he was grinning. Behind the stern and contained façade was a playful spirit that very few got to see. It was good to see their complicity intact despite the change in environment.
“What’s the worst that can happen?”
Prager whispered, smiling. He was challenging him, gaze impish. Mansk shrugged, ears perking again and extended his braid towards his companion, so that it was now within reach. After giving the door a quick glance to make sure they were alone, he met his gaze with equal mischief.
“Cheers, then.”
Prager only hesitated for a split second, just enough time to question the greatness of the idea but he tried to swallow his doubts. How wrong could it possibly go? Didn't seem like that much of a big deal, just a little nerve tangling or whatever.
“Fuck me. Cheers. To this new… thing.”
He got a little nervous, but he wasn’t one to back down, so he huffed and brought his own braid up to Mansk’s. He was so absorbed in watching what would happen that he didn’t even notice his tail curling around his waist anxiously.
There was no one to stop or even warn them, and they both watched in awe as their neural queues joined together in a weird but graceful dance-like movement, entwining and glowing. While they had expected to feel something, they hadn’t planned for it to be that intense and overpowering. They felt each other’s thoughts echo in their now shared mind and suddenly, there was only one being in the room, formed of their consciousnesses merging.
Prager let out a startled gasp, and Mansk, although silent, felt his jaw drop. For a brief moment, there were no more distinctions or barriers between the two. Pure emotions, loud and clear. Confusion, awe, surprise. Something else entirely lurked at the very edge of their minds, unnoticed or ignored.
“Fuck, that’s freaky…” A shared thought with no point of origin.
Neither of them moved for a while, trying to process the feeling of unison in its purest form and decide what to do with it. Their pupils were wide, eyes unfocused, looking at each other without seeing. It had an odd comfort to it though, feeling everything doubled made the initial curiosity grow. Emboldened by the absence of pain or anything else to stop him, Prager reached a hand out, touching Mansk’s arm lightly. It felt good, though troublingly more intimate than anything he’d ever felt before. Weirdly more intimate than sex. They could feel the goosebumps forming on their skin, the adrenaline rush from it. They basked in the feeling, he sensed Mansk’s pure wonder at feeling everything from both sides.
That was until the sound of a door opening interrupted the relative peace. Prager freaked out so badly that it gave Mansk whiplash. He undid the link hastily and scooted back, cutting the experience short. The sudden separation felt brutal and left them both reeling. Mansk still hadn't budged.
“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
A gentle voice, one that could only belong to Zhang, brought them back to their senses.
“No, no, it’s fine! All good.”
Prager did his best to smile, and Mansk nodded vigorously, as if he could shake off whatever feeling was clinging to his skin. The recom with the bandana cleared his throat, trying to pull himself together while Zhang settled on a bed, turning his back to them. At least he didn’t seem to question what they’d been doing, or he was too polite to ask. He felt ever so slightly relieved that it wasn’t Wainfleet or Lopez, who would’ve definitely questioned and tormented them with it till the end of times.
Despite that, Prager realized that he was in for something much deeper than he had anticipated when a feeling of emptiness settled, then lingered in his chest, and he found himself unable to look Mansk in the eye at all. He hoped it would subside, but it was only downhill from there.
***
The medic is still talking, neural queue in hand, showing off the pink nerve tendrils.
“… so don’t go connecting those with just anyone. The scientists don’t really know just how deep that bond goes yet, and we don’t need another… problematic situation.”
There are a few snickers in the room as he concludes his rundown on alien anatomy and its consequences. The recom in front of them looks at them individually to get his point across. Prager does his best to maintain eye contact despite the sweat beading on his brow. He’s mortified. But the pointed gaze doesn’t linger on him too long, so he thinks that’s good enough. He’ll take whatever little blessing life throws at him.
The soldier tries to will his ears to stop twitching. But he can’t, not with his mind recalling the event that has unfolded barely a couple hours prior. It feels like his whole body is buzzing. The emptiness is still there. More than before even. Sneaking a glance at Mansk, he can see that the other Recom has tucked himself into a dark corner of the room and is carefully avoiding looking in his general direction. His guard is back up, all of his body steeled and conrolled. Prager wonders if he feels the same indescribable feeling inside. He adjusts his position uncomfortably and looks down, lost deep in his thoughts.
Now that he has the medics words to put on what happened, Tsaheylu, it somehow makes it worse. Did he really just mate for life with his comrade? He seems unable to help it, his gaze is drawn to the other as if spellbound. He sneaks another glance at Mansk, but this time the other looks right back at him. Electricity hangs heavy in the air, and Prager has to repress a shudder from the sheer intensity of the unspoken words in those eyes. He can tell Mansk’s carefully guarded expression hides a torrent of feelings, only a fraction of which are visible in the yellow eyes studying him.
“I’m sorry.”
He mouths silently, a piss-poor apology but it’ll have to do for now. Mansk’s ear twitches, but he doesn’t reply. It shouldn’t affect Prager that much, but he feels downright awful.
It seems he won’t get any time to process any of this as his ears tilt towards Quaritch’s loud voice instructing them on where to get their comms equipment before they all move to the shuttle that’ll take them to the planet’s surface.
“Alright, let’s get moving.”
Quaritch commands, and everyone gets in motion. Prager can’t focus on anything. His movements are stiff, obeying orders on autopilot, moving with the rest of them even though his mind is completely elsewhere. The sensation of missing something important haunts him and makes his skin crawl.