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Chapter Text

The soldier spied the sentinel on the floor, guide kneeling next to him, through the cracked open doors. The guide was clearly working on guiding the sentinel out of the zone the soldier had forced him into. The guide was smart, the soldier had to admit that. He had tried to protect himself and sentinel through blocking off the other exits while he was incapacitated through guiding. 

It wasn’t much space, but it would have to do. 

Pulling out one of his utility knives, the soldier shut an eye and aimed for the sentinels chest一 the guide would be left defenseless without the sentinel一 and threw the blade. 

It was a one-in-a-million, no. One-in-a-trillion shot. The knife barely slid through the almost-closed doors; just in time to hit the kneeling guide in the stomach. 

The soldier cursed, and then ran back to the rendezvous point. He was about to have a very angry sentinel on his heels.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Two years earlier…

“Ship spotted, sir. The information led us right to it.” Seokjin broke his attention away from the dusty planet hovering outside the window for a moment and tilted his head at the low level navigator, acknowledging his work. Not completely turning away from the window he was staring at, he tapped into the mental bond Yoongi had forged between him and the rest of Bangtan. 

He allowed himself to savor the warmth of the bond, the intimacy of his mates’ minds around his own. Their thoughts swirled like the eddies of a river around his own. 

Stars, he would never trade it for anything else. 

There was work to do though, so he pushed his feelings of urgency at the mission through the bond. Suit up, let’s not put the years of work to waste. Feeling the acknowledgement from his mates, Seokjin turned fully away from the window to go and make sure his own gear was in order. Normally, he didn’t board the target himself, but something was telling him otherwise.

It was odd. Of course, Seokjin had the option of asking his mates to do the tedious, messy, on-the-ground-work for him. They all had their strengths in Bangtan, and his tended to be staying on the ship and charming the higher-ups. Not that he couldn’t get the manual labor done just as well as his mates, he just didn’t favor it as much as the more diplomatic work he did. Physically going on the mission was always so dirty. Sometimes though, there was just a push from his instincts. Call it fate, call it luck, whatever. 

They didn’t tend to be wrong, though. 

Even though Seokjin considered himself to be logical and scientific, he would be damned if he didn’t listen to the pull his soul put him through. That's how he almost lost the chance of meeting Yoongi. If they were nudging him to actually be present on the mission? So be it, Seokjin would be there. 

He did hate to get his hands dirty, however. Blood could be such a pain to wash out. 

☆

Yoongi stared out the window of the spaceship, watching what was visible of the mesmerizing patterns of dust swirling in the high atmosphere. The moon they were parked partially behind obstructed it mostly, which was a shame. 

It would be beautiful, if it wasn’t so fucking dry .

He was cuddled up to Taehyung on the couch, tucked into the young sentinel’s arms as they waited for their mates to finish getting ready. The proximity calmed the guide, and he savored the connection to all five of his mates. 

At least one of them wouldn’t be protected by him for this mission. As much as he hated to admit it, the idea of a potentially unprotected mate hurt terribly. 

The dust continued to undulate in the winds, distracting Yoongi from the pending anxiety of the mission today. 

Why the Jeons had chosen such a godforsaken planet to build their empire out of was beyond him, but maybe the desert served to their advantage. Afterall, he certainly didn’t want to go down there and do the hard work of trying to root out the family from whatever cave they were hiding in. 

Yoongi sighed, fists clenching at the remembrance of the horrendous acts the Jeons had put on in the name of wealth and power. So caught up in his thoughts, he was only distantly aware of Taehyung untucking his fingers and smoothing out his hands. 

Bangtan and their subsequent six members weren’t generals. They weren’t princes, or political leaders in the way that one might expect. Instead, they functioned essentially as a special operations team, a surgical scalpel hidden safely in the sleeve of the empire. 

They were what every soldier aspired to be to the empire. They were trusted for their skills, and for good reason. Fast, precise, and above all: discreet. Five out of the six members were sentinels, powerful ones at that. In the history recorded since the Empire’s establishment, only few could match. All of them had stood alone. 

Bangtan, however, was five sentinels put together. And with them? A guide with power to match. Treasured beyond belief by Bangtan, he was the oil that kept the machine of Bangtan running. Without him, the group would logistically fall to pieces, fail to operate, or would be forced to entirely use auxiliary guides that had no hope of matching the strength of the sentinels for any extended period of time. Yoongi, or Agust D, as he was known publicly, was the only guide able to bond with all 5 sentinels without dying or going insane— so the public thought. 

In reality, Bangtan was forced to use auxiliary guides. Yoongi, while an incredibly powerful guide, could only be in so many places at once: both mentally and physically. In a group that requires discretion, and with so many sentinels to one guide, Yoongi’s mind could only stretch so far. Oftentimes, it left one or two Bangtan sentinels alone, without the mental protection needed if they were to zone. Yoongi simply wasn’t close enough at all times. 

Thus, auxiliary guides. As much as it pained Bangtan, and especially Yoongi to rely on them, they were forced to. Personally selected from the ranks of guide soldiers by Bangtan members themselves, they were all known to have been extremely capable, skilled, and overall able to handle any sentinel thrown at them. 

Well, almost any sentinel. 

Those who were picked for Bangtan tended to survive a year or so, but honesty? Not by much, and mostly with extreme effort given on Yoongi’s behalf. None tended to last very long beyond that, despite their best efforts. At the moment, they needed yet another guide to replace the one they had just released from service. 

Yoongi shuddered at the memory of the screams during Hoseok’s last zone. 

The guide however had long theorized that their group wasn’t complete. Quite frankly, it didn’t make sense for so many sentinels to be bonded to just one guide, especially when that guide’s power didn’t encompass all of them at one time. 

What would make sense is if there was at least one other guide out there. One that was a true match like Yoongi. Guides, when working together, have the power to amplify each other’s abilities to incredible lengths. The bonds forged between the same sentinels would strengthen them, make them elastic, so that the guides could reach any sentinel from any distance. 

Essentially, the lack of range signaled to Yoongi that their bond wasn’t yet complete. 

However, the science behind that was… sketchy, at best, and completely ignored at worst. Sentinels, having the power in the galaxy, dedicated their time and efforts into strengthening sentinel powers and bloodlines. Guides were given away, considered to be below sentinels entirely. 

Science reflected that, regardless of what Yoongi thinks about that ideology. 

The guide continued to gaze out the window, thoughts turning to the Jeons themselves.

One of the projects that Bangtan had been put in charge of years ago was to root out the Jeon criminal empire. Known underground for their lucrative trade in all manner of illegal substances and dangerous objects, Bangtan was ignoring that for today in favor of their more notorious reputation: their slave trade. 

Beyond just trading “regular” creatures and other sentient beings, they were specifically known for their illegal guide trade. Guides were in high demand, but rare. Oftentimes one guide was paired with two or three sentinels at once, that’s just how skewed the ratio was. Yoongi was the extreme example with 5 sentinels all permanently bonded to him. 

All guides, however, need to be registered with the government by the time they turn 16 solar years. Most tended to be put on the radar at birth, as there was a standard blood test in place to make sure fewer guides slipped through the system. Most actual guiding ability showed up by 8 standard solar years, and only the latest showed up past 12 regardless of species. 

When the guides turned 18, they would be sent off to the government academies. From there, the guides would be matched up with sentinels of similar ability and species, as well as just compatibility in general. 

That being said, while they were in high demand, the prejudice against guides was widespread across the galaxy. Many were simply viewed as little more than objects, a pretty little thing to decorate a sentinel’s arm. Essentially, useless beyond what services they provided to the sentinels they were paired up with. 

Given how much resentment simmered at the government for taking away the potential choice to match guides to wealthy sentinels and advance familial ties was why the guide trade flourished. The guides would be handed off to the Jeons, they would forge papers about how the guide had passed away or was mistakenly labeled, the Jeons would make sure the guide made it in one piece to the paying sentinel, and then made sure the bonding was set in place before leaving. 

Additionally, the trade flourished because many guides… disappeared… from the arms of wealthy sentinels. Everyone knew what went on behind the scenes, but the sentinels then needed new guides to sport. The Jeons were more than happy to provide their services. 

The guides don’t tend to have a say in the process. Particularly since bonding isn’t just one way on their end. Sentinels have the mental abilities to reach out and force a bond, mostly though, when the guide was weaker mentally or weakened unnaturally. 

It’s incredibly traumatic for the guide involved, however so long as they were bonded, they weren’t able to escape. The sentinel would track them down, that’s what they were wired to do with bonded mates. Neither could they break the bond on their own, that required a great deal of medical intervention and the active consent of both guide and sentinel. 

Physically, mentally, socially, the guides would be trapped. 

This lucrative trade was the main reason Bangtan had spent so long trying to target the Jeons. The family was notoriously good for sweeping away their tracks, even as big of an empire as they were, so it took a great deal of effort on Bangtan’s end to make sure they had the right ships and routes tracked. 

It had taken five solid years. Five years of scanning over manuel ship tracking records, five years of interrogations, five years of blood, sweat, and tears. 

Hence, the mission today. It was simple: position their operations ship just outside the moon orbital of the planet the Jeons were hiding out on. Board and trap several members of the Jeon elite within the guide and slave trading they engaged in. Prosecute them for their crimes. The blow would be efficient and severe, if they could execute it properly. 

If there’s one thing to know about Bangtan, however, is that they always executed it properly. 

Yoongi frowned, watching the dust swirl around in the atmosphere of the planet. He knew just how much life-long pain the Jeons caused to guides who didn’t have a say in their lives. Yoongi was thankful that while he didn’t technically have the choice beyond what the military threw him towards, that he was matched with his perfect mates. The ones that fit to him and his guiding strength perf一well, almost perfectly. 

There was still the issue of range though, that other guide Yoongi theorized might be out there. 

He wondered if they might potentially even be living on the planet currently below him. 

Unease and curiosity knotted his stomach. Something about this was giving him a bad feeling. Today was going to be risky, and he wanted this stars-forsaken mission over with. 

☆

Seokjin tugged on the blaster-belt before tightening it, the buckle clicking into place. A warm, familiar figure hugged his back, and he leaned into the warmth that he instinctively knew as Namjoon before turning himself around in his mate’s arms. The tall sentinel softly kissed the older, twice and thrice before pulling away. 

“You don’t have to come with us, hyung,” the tall sentinel whispered, pulling Seokjin ever so slightly closer. Seokjin sighed, before kissing his younger bondmate back again. 

“I know. I just have this feeling ,” he trailed off, looking to the side of Namjoon. His mate nodded seriously, wanting to make sure his oldest lover was heard. They stood in silence for the moment, looking out one of the side windows and onto the desert planet below. 

Wustenei was a fucking desert, that was for sure. 

“The Jeon ship hasn’t taken off yet, but it should within the next half hour.” Seokjin murmured, eyes focusing on the planet as though he could personally listen in on the happenings of the Jeon ship planet-side. 

Space and its genuine emptiness prevented that, but it might be worth a shot on the ground. Seokjin looked back at Namjoon.

“You’re ready?”

“Always.”

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Jungkook panted as he boarded the ship, wiping the sweat off his brow. The ground swam in front of his eyes, but he was thanking every god he knew when he realized his family clearance hadn’t been stripped from him yet. 

It was only set to a low level, given his guide status, but it was enough to get him situated in one of the sleek metal spaceships his family owned. One that thankfully, wasn’t heading to another Wustanei port. He wanted off this stars-forsaken planet, and he wanted it now . 

His gaudy wedding attire made him stick out though, so he needed to change, and soon. Keeping his head down, Jungkook walked towards where he hoped he remembered the nearest supply closet was, desperately praying that he would neither run into someone nor immediately be caught. 

Or that, you know, the closet was where he remembered it. 

His memory didn’t fail him for once, even as his head pounded and the ground wavered in front of him because of his still-drugged state. Jungkook just about collapsed in relief at the sight of the rough fabric of the spare cleaner’s outfit in the closet with the cleaning supplies. 

The weight lifted off his shoulders as he stripped off the suit, the jewelry, and the godforsaken marriage ribbon was possibly the greatest feeling in his life so far. 

Water trailed down his face as he allowed himself the luxury of cleaning off the dust on his face from the desert outdoors, using the water faucet in the closet. Greedily, he cupped some and drank, absolutely parched from walking so long in the desert. Who knows when he might have easy access to water like this again?

He paused for a moment, staring at the water in his hand as he let himself breathe. The watch on his hand told him it was early morning, and he felt lightheaded, and not just from the lingering effects from the drug. Has it really already been a whole day since this nightmare began?

Lost in thought, Jungkook completely catapulted to the side of the closet as the ship shuddered and pulled up from the ground. Nausea rolled in his stomach, both from the ship-sickness and leftover remnants of earlier this evening as he barely kept himself from puking into the bucket in front of him. 

His hip throbbed, likely bruised from the impact. Jungkook cursed, he didn’t need to be more impaired than he already was. Bile rose in his throat as the ship shuddered up through the windy, dusty atmosphere of his formerly-home planet. 

Another particularly harsh spot of turbulence, and Jungkook’s stomach rolled again. He closed his eyes, hoping it would pass sooner than later. 

It was going to be a long trip. 

☆

The ship had been cruising comfortably out from the atmosphere for only a little while when it began to violently heave back and forth. Shrill alarms blared, and distantly he heard the yelling of crew members in the background. 

Jungkook, having peeled himself off the ground of the closet by that point, plastered himself to the wall, desperately trying to keep himself upright. Panic began to build in his chest as the guide heaved for air. 

As soon as it started though, the ship stabilized itself, although the alarms kept their screaming up. 

The distant yelling began to grow closer, and closer, until the thudding of boot steps interspersed with screams alerted the guide to the running soldiers right outside his closet . 

Jungkook’s blood went cold at the distinctive zing of military-grade blasters. 

The guide’s chest felt tight, he couldn’t get enough air. Distantly, he was aware how he was hyperventilating, the room around him spinning as his heart thundered in his ears. His head still pounded. Tears welled in his eyes, and it was all he could do to not sob and potentially give away his position. 

It was all too much. Why couldn’t he catch a fucking break?

So caught up in trying to steady himself, Jungkook missed it when the ship went quiet, and when the door to his closet slowly opened.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Link to "You Need a North Star"

Chapter Text

The mission was going well, as expected. Seokjin walked through the corridors of the ship distantly after his mates, blaster in hand, feeling very satisfied at the capture of several Jeon-allied higher ups, as well as the capture of several valuable pieces of smuggled products that the Jeons had been moving. None of them appeared to be family members, which was unfortunate, but they will still prove valuable anyways. 

His senses assaulted him with the unfamiliar smells of the crew that had been working on the ship. The miniscule, but higher than average concentration of the fine Wustanei dust made him cringe, the sensation of each particle overwhelming on his skin. 

Seokjin shuddered, cursing the instinctual tug that had dragged him here in the first place. 

Internally, he couldn’t help checking the bond with his mates, noting with a pang of sadness about how he was out of range for Yoongi at the moment. Given how quick they expected to wrap up the mission, it should be fine. They’ll be able to pick up another auxiliary at the end of the mission rendezvous. 

His blood ran cold thinking about how the last guide had screamed before they discharged him. 

Lost in thought as he walked through the hallway, Seokjin stumbled as his boot caught the edge of a helmet, one of the ones that used to belong to the Jeon foot soldiers, and immediately drew himself back into the present. He wrinkled his nose in distaste as he stared at the white coating of plastic, the Jeon’s black familial seal predominantly displayed on the side. 

Thankfully, most deaths had been mitigated, as the remaining Jeon soldiers had given up after hearing how their superiors had been captured. Bangtan just needed to check for anyone left over on the ship now, and then it was done and dusted until interrogation time.

Reaching the doorway to the next room, it didn’t appear that anything was still alive. That being said, the scent of adrenaline and fear perfuming the walls in this area seemed unusually strong, unusually fresh. 

So caught up in the scent and sights of the bodies of the dead Jeon scouts in the room, he almost missed the heartbeat jackrabbiting behind a door in the corner of the room, where a janitorial closet seemed to be located. 

He froze, spine straight. Someone was still here. Someone was still here and still alive . Even with the circumstances, pity still sparked in his chest. Maybe he didn’t have to kill this one? Hopefully whoever it was could go quietly and just have Seokjin take them back without fighting. That would be nice. 

And then the bond yanked at him in his chest, unexpectedly sending Seokjin down into a haze of sentinel-driven instinct. Physically stumbling over to the closet, it was like the sentinel was in a trance, almost completely focused on what his bond and instincts had deemed top priority. So much so, that before opening the door, he carefully holstered his gun, determined to seem less of a threat to the clearly terrified person hidden in the closet.

Quietly, he opened the door. The sentinel’s chest lurched at the sight of the fragile looking boy curled up in the corner, shaking and breathing so, so hard. 

He had to be human, there was no other explanation with his features and the way he gasped for air. Without thinking, Seokjin pulled off his helmet and dropped to his knees at the boy’s side, reaching out to soothe him as best as possible, muttering sweet nothings. 

So used to coddling his bondmates when he was this deep into an instinctual mindset, the violent flinch away from his hand was unexpected. 

Seokjin frowned, that couldn’t be right. Why was the boy afraid of him? Here he was, a competent, powerful sentinel, perfectly suited to caring for this boy. So why did he flinch?

Even so entrenched in his instincts, Seokjin managed to step back, still quietly talking to the boy, in hopes of gently helping him out of the throes of panic. 

It seemed to work after a few agonizingly long moments, even as the boy opened his eyes and stared at the sentinel with a glazed look. The sentinel’s anxiety at the situation had eased as he heard the boy’s heartbeat slow slightly, but looking into the boy’s glassy eyes he frowned. 

His eyes, they would look to be consistent in color to most but Seokjin could make out the slight difference between his pupils and irises. The glimmer of the retina through the black of empty space versus a dark mahogany. They way they didn’t flick as fast as they should, the way they appeared to be dryer than normal levels. Something was wrong. Something was wrong with his eyes. 

Taking a careful sniff, he could barely catch the smell of something medicinal on the boy’s tan skin. 

Seokijin’s blood went cold. Had the boy been drugged?

It certainly wasn’t out of the question if the Jeons were involved. 

At that point, the instinctual need to take care of the boy in front of him dissolved, as Seokjin’s more rational brain heaved itself up from under the weight of his sentinel driven mind. 

Why was he so invested in this one specific Jeon soldier? He didn’t even seem to be a guide for crying out loud, his aura was so muted. There was basically nothing indicating anything special about him other than riling up Seokjin’s instincts so much. 

Internally, he sighed, pushing the questions he had to the back of his head. He had to first get the boy on the operations ship and then he could figure out what it was that was making his instincts tick like this. 

“Are you feeling better?” The boy startled, as though he had been lost in thought at Seokjin’s presence in front of him. 

“Ummm, yeah. Yeah I’m good now.” That was a lie, the ever so slight tremor and fluctuations in his voice giving him away. Seokjin still nodded, acknowledging the boy’s words. 

“Come with me.” Seokjin stood abruptly, but offered his hand to the boy, who carefully took it. He wobbled standing up, and Seokjin wiped the frown off his face at the sight. He had so many questions. 

Save it. You’ll get your time to question him on the ship. 

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Jungkook mulled over the situation as he followed the sentinel in front of him, the man’s helmet casually held at his side. Of all the things that Jungkook expected when he came back to himself, seeing a fucking sentinel in front of him, quietly talking him down from the panic, was absolutely not on the list. 

And it was a sentinel, he had no doubt. 

The man in front of him was tall , for one. His features were ethereal in the way only sentinel nobility tended to be, and had huge shoulders (though that’s not specifically a sentinel trait.) The height and face wasn't what really gave it away though. 

It was the uniform. 

Dark blue, it was covered in patches in lieu of noisy metals, including both the seal of the monarchy and a specific iconic purple patch on his right shoulder: the color and stitching signifying a powerful, high ranking sentinel within the military. 

That patch alone sealed the deal.

Jungkook felt torn between oddly calm and absolutely terrified. On the one hand, seeing the uniform on the sentinel, he was clearly well respected and powerful in more ways than one. That much was clear, further solidified by the monarchy’s personal seal decorating the sentinel's front pocket. With Jungkook’s family, and as a guide, the sight was near-petrifying. It was hard not to think about all the ways that this sentinel could hurt him. 

On the other hand, there was something oddly… comforting about the sentinel’s presence. It was pervasive, like the sentinel was physically changing the atmosphere around him to cater specifically to Jungkook’s comfort. Normally, all Jungkook felt from sentinels was the sense of being oppressed, being negatively overwhelmed by their physical presence. This sentinel, on the other hand, was soothing in ways that Jungkook couldn’t put to words, despite the danger of his rank and the power of the sentinel overall. 

Maybe that sense was what got Jungkook to unthinkingly follow the tall sentinel out of the closet and to… wherever they were going to. 

Holy shit, where were they going? The uncertainty of the situation, of following a dangerously high-ranking sentinel with no clue as to where he was going to end up was absolutely terrifying. It was hard to keep himself from spiraling back down into panic again, regardless if this one was comforting or not.

Lost in his thoughts, Jungkook distantly registered the screech of metal on metal, of one ship scraping against another while hooked together in the weightlessness of space. It happens occasionally, especially if the docking was hasty or unexpected. 

While Jungkook ignored the sound at first, the sentinel went still, eyes rolling back into his head as he collapsed. Jungkook froze as he barely caught the sentinel falling to his knees. 

The now zoned sentinel. 

As gently as he could, the guide laid the now-limp body on the ground in front of him, trying to avoid injuring him if at all possible. The man was heavy.  

Jungkook stared at the sentinel in front of him, frozen in indecision as to what to do. 

The easiest course of action would be to just leave the sentinel lying there, and run away. Presumably, he could get away from the ship through the escape pods without interference, then safely make his way to the nearest next planet in the system. That had the added bonus of being safe and without an imprinted sentinel on his heels. 

But then there was the other side. Given that the sentinel had fallen into a zone and hadn’t yet come out, that likely meant that he didn’t have anyone within reach to actually pull him out of the zone. Bonded sentinels and guides generally needed only a small amount of time to guide out of a zone, regardless of how compatible they were. 

Compatibility simply meant the mental strain of pulling someone out of a zone was easier or harder, the amount of trauma sustained mentally by both parties. 

Jungkook’s soul heaved. Fundamentally, he wanted to help the sentinel. He was pulled to, and had never felt such a strong connection with any sentinel in his measly life so far. It was overwhelming, in a way that fundamentally felt like it was overruling even the base instinct to run away from potentially a very similar situation to what he just escaped, except with the added terror of imprinting. 

See, sentinels almost always imprint on the guides who help them. In case the guide ran, it would help the sentinel catch them, no matter how far away they were. Their instincts fundamentally screamed for it. It was far more likely the guide would end up with a sentinel on their heels after guiding than not. The stronger the guide, the more likely this would happen. 

It comes down to this: if Jungkook helped the sentinel and ran, the sentinel would chase him down to catch him, as had the other sentinels he had helped in the past. If he didn’t help, then he would have a much more secure route to freedom. Instinctual want to have a sentinel, to help one, versus a more rational, terrified want to escape. 

He couldn’t help the sentinel. He wanted to help. Helping the sentinel meant risking an imprint on him. But it is the right thing to do. Jungkook had just fucking escaped from sentinels. What if this one is different? He had to take the opportunity to run while he could. He helped you.  

Unconsciously, he moved closer and closer as his rational mind tried to fight off the instinctual. He pushed the sentinel's helmet away, and kneeled down next to the sentinel's side. 

He couldn’t. What if? He couldn’t. What if? He couldn’t. What if? 

Jungkook rested his hand on the sentinel’s forehead, gently sweeping back his bangs, and sunk into the sentinel’s mind. 

☆

The organized chaos in the sentinel’s mind was astounding . 

Admittedly, Jungkook didn’t have much experience in guiding at all, given the environment that he was raised in. This sentinel however, had the most chaotic and overwhelming mind that Jungkook had ever come across. 

He was standing under a night sky, with thousands of stars spreading across the dark. Jungkook savored the sight for a moment, wishing for a moment to see this in real life. 

Then he looked down. 

He was standing on an island in a chaotic ecosystem of memories. The multicolored glowing spheres of each of the sentinel’s individual rememberings of different objects, people, situations, words, everything bustled around him. It was like staring into a glowing ocean, only Jungkook could see the currents as memories moved around the sentinel’s brain and collided with each other. 

It was mesmerizing. 

Jungkook snapped himself out of the trance. He needed to find the sentinel. Staring across the sea of memories, he wallowed in despair at the thought of trying to search out the man from the millions, trillions of memories pooled in the lake. 

He jumped at the feeling of something soft touching his arm. 

Adrenaline turned to awe as he realized one of the glowing spheres floated right next to him. The glowing sphere was pink, and Jungkook marveled at how soft it felt against his skin. 

It clicked. Sometimes, the sentinel’s consciousness provided help for the guides wanting to pull a sentinel from a zone. This was particularly true the more compatible the two were, the consciousness recognizing that the two minds would work well together with minimal trauma to each person. 

Seems like the guide and sentinel were a good match, then. 

The pink ball of light pushed forward down the beach of the island and into the glowing sea of memories, stopping for a moment as though to beckon Jungkook to follow it. Hesitantly, Jungkook stepped forward, and then his jaw dropped in shock when the sea of memories parted to allow the guide and Jungkook through. 

At the end, he could see the sentinel, drifting through the sea of memories and staring at some as they caught his fancy. 

Although the path was relatively straightforward, it felt like it took forever to Jungkook. 

He could hear the memories whispering, as though they were just barely containing the information inside. Stopping for a moment, he watched as a green shaded memory floated past, a small child chasing a butterfly in a grassy world. The feminine cry of “ Jin!” by someone in the background, calling the young boy back inside for dinner. 

It looked a little like a young version of the sentinel he was guiding. 

Staring at the memory, Jungkook’s recent history bubbled up in his mind, the phantom trace of hands on his thighs, and he jerked back from the memory, disturbed. 

He needed to focus. 

The sentinel wasn’t much further up ahead, and Jungkook could hear him muttering as he watched the different memories, trying to reconcile whatever stimulus that had zoned him. He took a deep breath, and walked up to the taller man, tapping him on the shoulder when he was close enough.

Jin , the sentinel, jumped, like he hadn’t realized that Jungkook was even in his mind, let alone the nearby area. 

“Oh, um. Hello? I didn’t realize that you were, uh, here?” The sentinel was adorably embarrassed, and Jungkook smashed the thought down immediately. He nodded, not really trusting himself to speak much. The sentinel drew in a breath, hesitated, and then began to speak again. 

“I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t scare you too much.” It was so kind, so caring of the sentinel, Jungkook might have cried right there. He nodded, gently taking a hold of the sentinel’s hand. 

The sentinel's hand was soft as it gently wrapped Jungkook's palm. 

“I’m going to… I’m going to lead you out now, ok?” Jin nodded in acknowledgement, and allowed himself to be drawn out of the lake of memories. 

They reached the island without much speaking, and Jin let go of the guide’s hand as he turned up to look at the star-smattered sky.

Jungkook could just see words forming on the sentinel’s lips as he slipped out of Jin’s consciousness. 

☆

Jungkook sunk back down into his body, feeling heavy and unsettled by the experience of guiding the sentinel, how comfortable and natural it had felt compared to his previous experiences. Looking down, he saw the sentinel still passed out the floor. The remembered fear of his past hit him all at once. 

Oh fuck , he needed to run, and now. 

Jungkook staggered as he stood up, slowly gaining speed as he began to sprint through the ship, trying to remember where in the stars the escape pods were, as that would be the quickest way to get off the ship and away from the sentinel. 

Distantly, he heard footsteps start to thud behind him. The spike in terror at potentially being found was enough to offer Jungkook a new burst of energy, putting on more and more speed. 

Stars be damned, why, why did Jungkook have to help that sentinel? He didn’t want another one. Period. All they were good for is pain. His family had taught him that well, why didn't he listen?

He stamped down the thought of how differently and gently this sentinel had treated him so far. 

Sweat rolled down Jungkook’s temples, and the pounding of his feet sounded deafening to even his guide ears as he sprinted through the narrow halls of the space cruiser. Desperately, he hooked another corner, trying to lose the massive sentinel currently on his tracks. A currently failing goal, however, given that the sentinel was both taller than him and better physically equipped than him to continue to outrun someone. 

Fuck, trying to get away from that stars-forsaken planet really took it out of him, damn it. 

If he could just slip into… there. Salvation in the form of a maintenance door. Basically the entire maintenance crew the Jeons had hired for their ships were nulls, and therefore were generally on the smaller end of the height spectrum. Unlike, for example, most sentinels, this means they don’t need 7 feet of door or hallways to comfortably exist. Thankfully for Jungkook, they had built this ship to reflect that. 

Jungkook himself could barely squeeze through with ease, but when he heard the sentinel huff in frustration behind him, he knew his plot had succeeded. At least, for the moment. Spying the sign as to where the escape pods were, the guide thanked his lucky stars that he didn’t need to guess. 

Adrenaline still pounded through his veins, and finally, Jungkook burst out the other side of the maintenance hall, sprinting as fast as he possibly could towards the nearest pod. He slammed the close button as he dashed past it, hoping it would shut in time.

It wasn’t a second too soon. Jungkook couldn't help but flinch at the thud of the sentinel running into the first of the airtight doors. While Jungkook had been wriggling through the maintenance halls, the sentinel had sprinted around the corridors, guessing correctly where the guide had wanted to end up. 

Jungkook risked a glance through the pod windows into the cruiser, but something strange in his heart ached when he saw the sentinel, Jin, plastered up against the door, lips moving in a clear plea for Jungkook to come out. The guide stared at the sight, momentarily distracted from launching the pod. 

That strange pull towards the sentinel tugged again, though, snapping Jungkook out of the reverie. He kept his eyes on the desperate sentinel, walking slowly backwards to the pilot’s panel. When he felt the control board hit his hip, he turned around, and hit the eject. 

Jungkook doesn’t remember what drove him to look back at that window. Watching Jin burst into tears and pounding his fist on the window at the pod drifting off into space caused tears to prick at his eyelids. 

He didn’t tear his eyes away until he couldn’t see the sentinel anymore. The tug heaved in his chest again, and Jungkook cracked. 

The guide broke into sobs, pushing himself against the pod’s wall. Desperately, he tried to keep himself upright, but slowly failed as he slid down the smooth metal of the escape pod. 

He couldn’t do this again, no one could make him do it again, Jungkook would run off, hide, and never let these stupid sentinels decide his life for him. It doesn’t matter that there was something different about the sentinel on the ship. All sentinels were the same, and he didn’t want to be forced into bonding with one again, regardless of how much it tugged and broke him to leave the one on the Jeon ship. 

When the sobs finally stopped wracking his body,  it registered that Jungkook was literally just, floating in space. He was in an escape pod that he had stolen, and that honestly, he needed to get his shit together so that he didn’t accidentally crash into an asteroid or something. 

Deep breath in, deep breath out. 

Hoisting himself to his feet, he shuffled over to the dashboard, wiping his tears along the way. His chest hurt, pulsing as the tug tried to get Jungkook to turn around back towards the sentinel. Mechanically, the guide began to flip switches and press the buttons, directing the course of the small pod towards the nearest planet in the star system. 

While his piece-of-shit father had neglected much of the education required for guides like Jungkook, he had thankfully still given him the opportunity to learn how to fly, both in and outside of atmospheres. He had cited how Jungkook “might still be of use” as a pilot, but frankly, Jungkook didn’t care. He was free now, and he needed to take advantage of it. 

Sentinels had already hurt him so much. He’d be damned if he gave them another chance.

Finally, the course was mapped, a timer set, and Jungkook allowed himself to relax for the first time since he had been taken from his home, the tug he had felt towards the sentinel reduced to only a dull ache in his chest. Tilting back the pilot's seat, he let himself finally rest. By the stars, he was exhausted. 

And so he slept. 

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

When the other Bangtan members found Seokjin after realizing he had been missing for the better part of an hour, they weren’t expecting to see him, their oldest member, completely broken down by the door to an already-ejected escape pod. Head rested against his knees, tears slowly streaming down his face. 

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Seokjin sat in his office later that evening, twirling a pen mindlessly between his fingers; back, and forth, and back, and forth. He may have had paperwork sitting in front of him, but his mind was elsewhere. 

The guide. 

Seokjin couldn’t help it, how the scene replayed over and over in his head. The gentle touch against his thoughts, the soft way he had pulled Seokjin away from losing himself to his own mind. The pounding of footsteps as he had dashed from Seokjin’s body, as the sentinel was gaining awareness. The fear and horror on his face when the guide had turned to look at Seokjin sobbing through the window. 

The fear, the fear, the fear. 

Splinters of the pen ricocheted off Seokjin’s desk as it cracked in his hand. The resulting thundering through Seokjin’s skull was finally enough to push the sentinel out of his daydreaming. He shook his head, physically trying to shake the remaining stupor out of his body. 

It was puzzling. Why was he so worked up over a mere guide? He already had 5 beautiful partners, beautiful mates at his side. Being stuck on some worthless, replaceable guide was not only illogical, but impractical. Especially given that he ran at the first sign of Seokjin waking up. 

Yet still, even hours later here he was. Still fighting off the remnants of the extremely strong imprinting the guide had left on him. A very unusually strong imprinting, actually. The guide’s facial features were burned into his brain. Seokjin almost certainly could have found this guide anywhere in the galaxy, his instincts were screaming for it. 

Even now, he was unintentionally tracing out the fingerprints the guide had left on his helmet.

Normally with auxiliary guides, it was a mere shadow of the way Seokjin was feeling now. They simply didn’t connect the same way as Yoongi did. It directly correlated to how well they boosted Yoongi’s powers as well: while two guides could boost each other’s abilities, they had to be compatible enough to reach their full potential across the galaxy. None had managed so far. 

But this guide, he might be able一

Nope. Stop that thought right there. No one could replace Yoongi. Yoongi was perfect.

But also, Seokjin logistically couldn’t have done anything. Not just because there had been no other ship that he could have pursued with on the Jeon cruiser, but he had responsibilities, goddamn it. Responsibilities that didn’t involve him chasing around a random guide of no significance. 

No matter how much his being pulsed with the need to find the guide again. 

The sentinel sighed, grabbing a new pen. He had work to do, after all. 

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Yoongi stared at the computer screen, watching the replays of the scene over and over again. 

Jin leading the guide out of the closet. Him zoning and the guide catching him. The sentinel chasing the guide as he squeezed through the vents, desperately trying to reach the escape pods. His lover, pounding and sobbing as the guide ejected the pod and into the emptiness of space. 

Yoongi watched it, over and over again. 

He understood why Jin hadn’t gone after the boy, there had been too many factors, too much at stake logistically. 

He also wished that he could have been there. Given how strongly Jin had reacted, how strongly he was still reacting, the boy had to have been incredibly powerful, or at least a good match for the sentinel. Maybe more than one of the Bangtan sentinels even. He could have potentially been a missing piece to the Bangtan puzzle, a perfect mate to match the other six. 

The way Jin imprinted on him, it certainly was a possibility. That type of imprinting hadn’t happened since Yoongi had first guided the Bangtan sentinels.

Squinting at the screen, Yoongi paused the video, catching the young guide’s face as much as possible. His heart gave an involuntary squeeze at genuinely how young he seemed. The boy really didn't look to be much older than the 18 standard solar years. To be so young, so afraid…

It made him so incredibly sad, and angry. Yoongi knew intimately some of the techniques that sentinels and null families used on guides, how they were basically no more than bargaining chips more often than not. He himself had barely escaped the trade, running and joining the military after escaping one of the Jeon transport ships his parents had sold him onto.  

Yoongi sighed, folding his arms and resting them on the desk. Looking at the guide’s face one more time, he memorized the young features, and vowed to find him. 

One day.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Chapter Text

Jungkook was maybe starting to understand just how much he had bit off to chew as he pressed himself against the wall of the pitiful escape pod as it skidded on a too-shallow angle into the planet’s atmosphere. 

He had just woken up from his unrestful nap to the horrifying jostling of gravity doing its damndest to rip the metal apart. Heat, as the pod started to burn in the sky, felt like liquid fire in his lungs. Flames rippled outside of the windows. 

For star's sake. 

Desperately, the guide surged forward, belting himself into the seat and immediately began flipping switches, pulling levers, trying to direct the pod to the correct angle in order to reenter the atmosphere without dying. Sweat dripped down his face, stinging his eyes and leaving a horrible taste in the guide’s mouth. 

Slowly, surely, the pod dipped down, allowing for an actually controlled entry into the planet’s airspace. 

Jungkook didn’t relax. A difference of 2 degrees as he dove downwards would make or break him, literally. Quickly, he checked the monitors, and cursed. The heat shield hadn’t failed, but it was a close thing. 

This was going to be a bumpy ride. 

Tense as a wire, the guide worked to operate the pod’s clunky steering system through the remaining layers of the atmosphere. Despite the shakiness of the pod, the heat still burning the guide’s skin, it went relatively smoothly. 

For once, Jungkook sent a prayer of thanks to his father for allowing him to learn how to fly. 

Then, disaster. Reaching over to the breaks, Jungkook pulled to slow down. 

Nothing happened. Frantically, he pulled again, horror pooling in his stomach as nothing happened. The ground underneath him began to look nauseatingly close.

Frantically, the guide twisted around, hoping, praying, that there would be an emergency backup. 

There— a parachute release handle. Jungkook reached, grabbed, pulled.

Black. 

☆

Jungkook’s body throbbed in pain. 

He groaned, tilting his head back into the seat’s headrest, but that just made the pain in his head worse. Blearily, he blinked, and the world fuzzed in and out as the guide returned fully to consciousness. Thoughts bounced through his head, but it felt like he couldn’t process anything. 

Oh, he must be concussed. 

Reaching down, Jungkook fiddled with the straps of his seatbelt, managing to release himself from the mangled metal contraption. One last, exhausted pull did the trick, freeing the guide out of the restrictive fabric belt.

With wobbly, painful steps, Jungkook pried himself out of the near-welded shut door, wincing at the sharp points of metal left behind. He blinked, looking up and out, mouth falling open at the sheer wealth of green awaiting him. 

There was more than he had ever seen in his life before. Hell, he didn’t know this much green or life had ever even existed in the entirety of the universe, let alone this one part. 

It clicked, he must be on Illurium, the next planet over from Wustanei. 

Internally, the guide cursed. He had set the course for Illurium when he had got into the pod, but mostly to use it as a gravity swing to get to the next planet, the next system. One planet over from the Jeons? That wasn’t far enough. That wasn’t far enough at all. 

Nervously, he fiddled with his earring, thinking and processing the situation. The guide sighed, resolving himself to do the best with what he had for the moment, because it was a better situation than what he had had with his family. 

Absent-mindedly, he brushed his finger over the slight bump of scar tissue behind his ear, jolting in remembrance at the feel of the long healed skin.

Because well, there was also that issue to deal with. 

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The sentinels stood in a line. A tall, sharp, imposing line. Their boots were polished to a shine, purple uniforms crisply in place. No patch, hair, or speck of dust was out of place. A photo of perfection. 

Yoongi allowed himself a moment of fondness looking at them, because those were his sentinels. The world, no. The universe needed to know that. 

He turned to the guide-filled audience behind him, sitting in silence in the dark auditorium. They were all vetted, records combed to the guts of the dusty archives. Only the best for Bangtan, after all. It was a crowd full of the most accomplished, recognized guides in the empire. 

A sneer almost crawled its way to Yoongi’s lips, but he showed enough restraint to not let it show. For now, at least. 

“As many of you know, my sentinels and I are in need of your services.” The guide continued to speak about duty, honor, and responsibility almost absent-mindedly as his eyes roamed over the crowd. Thinking, knowing that none of them would be able to compete with the elder guide in power, not like the one Jin had found on the ship. 

That guide will be his. Yoongi just needed to find him first. 

He paused, spiel over. A final, bored glance over the crowd full of hopeful, excited, nervous guides. None of them stood much of a chance. They would have to pick out of convenience. 

“Now, we will call you one by one…”

☆

“It’s so strange,” Yoongi muttered, scrolling through the photos in the registry of the captured ship. The guide had been standing in front of an electronic board common in their base, not moving even when Jin had walked in and sat down at the table behind him, content to just check up on the guide and be with him. 

Besides, he knew the guide wanted some space anyway. Jin knew deeply just how much Yoongi hated the choosing process. 

“Why’s that?” Jin asked, curiosity piqued at the sight of the ship roster they had captured a couple days ago. It had already been poured through and examined to great length, all of the prisoners they had captured identified and put away for sentencing. Thankfully for them, the Jeons had kept excellent records on all of their ships of who and what was coming off and on. 

Business security, Jin supposes. Yoongi muttered again, breaking him out of his train of thought.

“Well, the guide you found isn’t on the roster. At all. ” The guide sighed, pushing his hair behind his ear, (it needs to be washed, Jin thinks, smelling the concentration of oils clumped at the roots.) The sentinel picked up a hairpin, walking over to the standing guide and pinning the hair back behind his ear, stroking his fingers through the (too oily) hair. Yoongi leaned back into the sentinel’s chest, relaxing into the older man’s touch.  

“I don’t understand it.” He whispered. “It’s like the guide just appears from thin air.” Jin frowned, hating to see his guide so stressed and confused. Besides, it was very strange that the guide seemed to have no trace of being on the ship, besides when the cameras had caught Jin and him together. 

(Jin tried to ignore the ache in his chest at the memory of the guide’s soothing mental touch.)

“I guess,” Yoongi broke the silence. “Maybe the only thing out of the ordinary was the opening of the back door right before take off. It’s the most likely theory as to the guide potentially sneaking onto the ship undetected.” Yoongi stepped forward, towards the board and out of Jin’s space. “However, the code marked for the user opening the door was JJK-FJ-G. That’s not a code we have ever seen used before, but with one partial match.” 

Yoongi looked back at Jin. “FJ is a code marker for those born or initiated into the Jeon family.”

The sentinel raised his eyebrow. Now that was interesting indeed. 

Maybe Jin should be looking into this guide more. 

 ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

For a few days, Jungkook allowed himself to rest, shucking off the heavy outer layer of the Jeon uniform he had been wearing and surviving just off the rations he was able to recover from the wreckage of the escape pod. Looking down at the last of the dried fruit though, he was forced to acknowledge reality. 

He was alone. He was alone on a planet that he barely knew how to live on. His water and food were close to being up, and hunger ripped through his stomach like it was paper. 

If Jungkook wanted to survive, he needed to get up and move. Figure out the area, figure out how to get water, food, he was good on medical supplies but not indefinitely. 

Jungkook groaned, standing up even though his body screamed through aches. He knew there were maps of every planet in this system in the escape pod somewhere. He just had to find them. 

Because stars be warned, he wasn’t going to die here.  

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Seokjin stared at the map of the system hanging on the wall of his office. It wasn’t of the area Bangtan made their home in, but of the Jeon’s home solar system. His eyes wandered through the planets.

Rucrem, Zuerk, Wustanei, Illurium, Citbal, Samun.

He shouldn’t still be thinking of the runaway guide. It had been nearly a week, after all. But what Yoongi had said… he wasn’t wrong. It was strange that the guide had just… appeared from nowhere. 

Hell, the first sighting of him even on the ship was when Jin had walked him out of the supply closet. There was absolutely nothing of him on any camera in the memory card on the ship. Granted, there wasn’t full coverage of every room and nook and cranny on the cruiser, but it was suspicious. 

Additionally, there was no tracking on the escape pods so that they could follow him. At least, not from the pod itself. That being said…

Illurium. The closest planet to Wustanei at this point in their orbits. It was habitable, with thousands of small villages in the rainforest, as well as the large cities every so often. 

Jin pursed his lips, finger hovering over the vegetation-covered planet. Illurium may not be the most populated, but it did have satellites in the atmosphere to track interspace take-offs and arrivals, as well as space junk for the safety of their people. 

It would be able to detect a potentially rogue escape pod just fine. And if Bangtan could get ahold of their mysterious guide, he could potentially be a well of information. Clearly he knew the ins and outs of sneaking onto Jeon ships, for example. That in and of itself was a point of interest. 

Additionally, there was the mystery of the “FJ” marker on the code. If the marker was, as Yoong had explained, a genetic or made member of the Jeon family, then the guide was a part of the inner circle. Capturing him, then, could absolutely change the game in favor of Bangtan. 

Jin had spent so many years rooting out the Jeons. It was time to finish them once and for all. 

And if he wanted to get ahold of the guide to satisfy Yoongi’s fascination, that was between Jin and himself. 

Decision made, the older sentinel reached into his bond to call for one of his sentinel mates. 

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

And so, Jungkook settled in. It helped immensely that there was a survival guide next to the maps he retrieved from the ship’s black box. At least now he could drink the water he collected from the surrounding area. 

Living on a jungle planet was an experience. It was a challenge, but not an unwelcome one considering the guide’s history. 

Jungkook thinks he might take this over his home planet any day. 

He had grown up on a planet that was… less than friendly to guides. Guides in general weren’t generally given the same footing as sentinels anyway, throughout the galaxy, but those born on Wustanei were definitely handed the shorter end of the stick. The planet, while a desert, was overrun by a myriad of wealthy, powerful sentinel families. Illegally and legally. Guides were pushed into the background as a result.

Adding insult to injury, Jungkook had been born to one of these families; one in particular that had had every male in living memory born a sentinel.

To say that Jungkook was the disappointment of the family is probably an understatement. In his parents’ minds, he had been born to be a servant to another sentinel, not as a person able to wield power on their own right, or really, much of a person at all.

Since his birth, Jungkook’s parents had essentially thrown him into the corner like a child who didn’t want their new toy anymore. It didn’t matter that Jungkook turned out to be an incredible guide, with several other sentinel families clamoring for his hand, despite him only ever having guided two or three times in his life. 

By nature of his abilities, he would always be a failure. 

The shame of having a guide child was too much for the Jeons, who had kept their second son as much out of the spotlight as possible. Unfortunately for everyone involved, that was a bit difficult, given how the Jeons had announced Jungkook’s birth to the upper elite of the planet. They had been expecting another sentinel in the family, after all. That’s just what powerful Wustenei sentinel families do when they have sentinel kids, they have parties to celebrate them.

And the Jeons? A very powerful Wustenei sentinel family. 

Hence, the clamoring for Jungkook’s hand regardless of not being a sentinel. Other families wanted ties to the Jeons, by nature it would elevate their status. 

Jungkook had spent years in limbo like this: shunted to the side by his parents, but still wanted for his connections.

Well, shunted to the side on the good days. On the bad? Well, Jungkook still had the scars. 

One day though, it seems like Jungkook’s father had had enough. So, Jungkook’s hand in marriage had been sold off without his knowledge, damaged goods as he was (his father’s words) to a sentinel that lived cross-planet. When he finally heard about the pending marriage, there wasn’t much else he could feel except numbness. He was 20 after all, of perfectly suitable age to marry. It was a miracle he had been relatively left on his own so long.

Later in the evening after the announcement, Jungkook had used stolen moments on the planet’s internet (he wasn’t allowed to use it regularly) and learned of his betrothed’s… unseemly reputation. It told him all he needed to know, of rough hands, controlling demeanors, and disappearing guides. 

It had sickened Jungkook to his stomach, but the message was clear. His parents wanted him out of the way.

Not like he had been blocking anything in the first place. 

He was glad at first, that he hadn’t been thrown in a cage and taken off the planet, sold the way that most guides under his parents’ control were treated. Jungkook wasn’t naïve to the family business and what it entailed. The closer the impending date came though, the more dread he felt. 

The wedding had been small, and rushed. Admittedly, Jungkook didn’t remember most of it. The numbness he had felt initially upon hearing about the marriage had returned in full force; blooming along his body like fungus over a fallen tree. What he could piece together was the bland food favored by the wealthy, the talking over him, and the ribbon that had bound him to the hand of his husband. 

Then, there was the ride home, with the too-firm grip on his knee, the searing heat of the huge sentinel next to him. A mouth that reeked of alcohol. 

Jungkook didn’t think he had a worst nightmare, but the moment he stepped foot in his new husband’s house, he learned how wrong he was. It had only been hours, but regardless, it had been some of the worst hours of his life.

And then… then he had escaped. And then he had freedom. 

Sure, it hadn’t been easy. Moving from a desert planet to one completely covered in rainforest was a shock that Jungkook wasn’t sure he would ever recover from. There was so much water , and earth , and life. 

The people there too, at least in the nearby village Jungkook had discovered, thankfully didn’t ask too many questions. 

It was amazing. 

And yet…

His days were marred with pain. Running away from the sentinel had done… something to his body. Some days it was fine, the ache he had initially felt drifting away from the Jeon ship dulling to just a background sensation in his brain. 

Other days though, were like today. As Jungkook awoke with a gasp, he knew it was going to be bad. Even after only a week of being on his own, he could recognize the bad days and the good ones. 

Pain ricocheted through his chest, and Jungkook knew that there was no physical sensation. Rather, it was the remainder of the imprinting he had formed with the sentinel on the Jeon ship. Stars though, it was stronger than any imprint the guide had felt in his life. 

Jungkook groaned, curling up into a ball, fingers nervously fiddling with the piece of gauze tapped behind his ear. Hoping, begging the broken imprint to just, not exist anymore. 

The imprint, of course, didn’t listen. 

Mustering up his will, he turned over and reached out to grab the bottle of painkillers he had left near his bedding last night. Lifting it off the ground though, the guide cursed. The white plastic container was completely empty. 

He flopped back into the bedding, taking as deep of breaths as possible, before forcing himself to sit up, stand up, walk forward, oh so slowly. His senses felt hazy, muted as the pain throbbed through his chest. But if he wanted more painkillers, he had to get moving to the village. 

Wincing in pain all the while, Jungkook packed a bag full of water, food to eat, and some trinkets he had found in the area to trade for the medicine. Shells, certain plants, and certain scraps from his ship he had learned were valuable in the village market. 

Walking was difficult, but once he got moving, it was somewhat bearable. He kept his eyes forward and down, determined not to trip and make the journey harder for himself. So focused on his goal, the guide paid little attention to the surrounding forest scenery, and even less when he walked into the strangely quiet village. 

Reaching the apothecary though, the guide was forced to look up into the red “closed” sign adorning the wooden door. Fear began to break through the haze, tugging his consciousness away from the total focus on pain and trickling adrenaline into his system. 

Something was wrong. The apothecary never closed, even at night there was someone there just in case someone needed help. Looking around, Jungkook noticed just how empty and quiet the village seemed. Granted, there were still some people walking around, but for the most part, it was completely opposite of a normal morning market. 

The guide stepped away from the door, and partially into the street, looking down to see if he could catch a glimpse as to what was going on. Immediately though, he darted into the alleyway in between the apothecary and the next building. Regret pulsed through his entire being. He had to run, hide. 

Because at the end of the street, deep in conversation with the village’s leader was a sentinel. A sentinel, wearing the exact same uniform as the one Jungkook had guided on the Jeon ship. 

Shit.

Chapter Text

Every muscle was locked into place as Jungkook turned the glimpse of the dark blue fabric, the bright purple patch obnoxiously signaling Danger! Danger! Danger! within his mind. He peeked out again, trying to gauge the situation. It wasn’t the same sentinel that Jungkook had guided earlier, but as Jungkook flicked his eyes across the man, it felt increasingly likely the sentinel was here for him . Why else would they have come here, to the planet he had fled to, so long after the incident on the ship? It had already been at least a week, and that patch wasn’t exactly a foot soldier’s rank.

Pain . 

Waves of pain tightened in his chest, the broken imprint choosing the worst possible moment to act up again, almost physically tugging Jungkook towards the chatting sentinel. It was like a rope had connected him and the sentinel chatting to the mayor, drawing the guide forwards towards the man. But why? He hadn’t even imprinted on this one— Jungkook couldn’t fucking take this anymore. He could feel his sanity begin to fray at the edges, torn between the instinctual want for the sentinel across the village and the learned trauma from his family. 

Distantly, he could feel himself damn near hyperventilating, the world swaying as he began to grow dizzy. Out. He had to get himself out of here. 

One step backwards. Another. Another. Turn, look where you’re going. He couldn’t run, that might alert the attention of the sentinel more than carefully walking away, especially when everyone’s inside. The sentinel likely could hear him, so the key was to try and make himself indistinguishable from the noises inside the house. 

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Again. Again. 

The shipyard. Get to the shipyard. He could steal something and fly further away, maybe to a moon of Samun’s, or Samun itself. Citbal could do in a pinch, before he gets out of the system and even further into the galaxy. He would deal with that later though. 

Turn the corner, get to the shipyard— oof. That was a person, Jungkook. Great going, Jungkook. 

Hands of iron grasped around his limbs, and so deep in the autopilot of survival and the fog of hyperventilation, the guide barely reacted, only remembering to thrash by it was too late. He opened his mouth, instinctively preparing to scream—but instead getting his mouth shoved full of some type of musty fabric, nearly choking him. The guide’s eyes began to water, but through the tears, he could see and feel himself being pulled down and into somewhere, as well as the snapping of metal cuffs that bound his wrists together. 

Something inside Jungkook broke. He is fucking tired of being kidnapped. Despite being as weak as he was, he continued to try and break free, wiggling around and kicking, even as pain continued to wrack his body. 

“Stop it, you absolute idiot.” Jungkook kept thrashing. 

A click, cold metal against his temple. “I said stop it.” Jungkook stilled. That was, in fact, a blaster pointed to his temple. He flicked his eyes sideways, trying to get a glimpse of his captor, but failing. They were standing too far behind him. Still, he flinched as warm breath brushed his ear.

“You are going to sit here like a good boy, and wait until I direct you otherwise or the others come back. If you scream, make noise, or fight back, I will shoot. Understood?” Jungkook stiffly nodded, trying not to make too much movement lest his captor was feeling particularly inclined to murder today. “Good. We’ll be out of here soon enough.”

Resigned to his fate, the guide began looking around the room. It was very dark, and hard to make out the various objects scattered along the walls. Until, at least, the person behind him flicked on the light, momentarily blinding him. He blinked, trying to adjust his eyes as the person walked around him. 

She looked Jungkook over, eyes narrowed as she examined him, sniffing in disdain. The blaster hung at her side, holstered on her belt. There was something familiar though about her sharp eyes, the way she held herself. The guide blinked, recognition clicking into place. Pirate . 

His parents had always told Jungkook to watch out for them, warning the young guide that if his abilities were discovered and he was captured by pirates, it would be an even worse fate than what his parents engaged in. Regardless, they still traded with them occasionally, if only out of necessity. As powerful as the Jeons were, they still could only get some parts through the pirate smuggling trade. 

The woman in front of him is a member of one of the pirate crews his parents had worked with, although he doesn’t think they did business with each other very often. He had only seen her a couple times within the last few years.

Regardless, it was enough confirmation for Jungkook to know that he was in deep shit, with no way out of the hole he unintentionally dug himself. Especially not if he didn’t want to get caught by the sentinels. 

The pirate frowned, reaching up to tap what must have been an earpiece. She muttered something under her breath, tapped again, and then grabbed Jungkook’s arm, hoisting him up to march him towards a door in the wall. 

“Remember what I said earlier and behave, the head captain wants to see you,” she murmured, and walking forward with her was all Jungkook could do despite the familiar panic rearing its ugly head again. Together, they went through the door along a long, dark underground hallway. The guide wasn’t sure how long they walked, only that it must have been a decent amount out of the village's boundaries. Slowly though, light began to brighten the walls, a literal light at the end of the tunnel. 

Jungkook’s jaw dropped as the walls opened up to reveal an underground port, open at the top. For a moment, he forgot where he was, so focused on looking at the incredible sight. Docked inside was an absolutely beautiful ship, with some crew bustling around, clearly trying to prepare the ship for take-off. He stumbled as he took it all in, still being pulled around by his captor. 

The guide snapped himself back to the present as she pulled him up the entry ramp and into the belly. Nerves rekindled in his stomach the further and further into the ship they went, just so Jungkook could meet this other captain. Finally, they entered a room full of greenish, glowing screens, with three other women standing around a digital map of the solar system they were currently in. 

“Hwasa! You’re back.” A fond smile decorated her features, even as her eyebrow raised at Jungkook’s presence, like she was judging him. “You brought the guest.” 

“Ohhh, you’re a pretty one, aren’t you?” Another pirate purred, striding forward and grabbing Jungkook’s chin to tilt it this way and that way, angling it to her liking. A pout bloomed across her face, more cutesy than actually angry, it seemed. “A bit too skinny though. Shame that I’m not into boys. Quite the face, isn’t he?” Another pirate popped out from behind the first one’s shoulder. 

“Ohhhhh, he is!” She glanced appreciatively up and down the guide. “I think we should keep this one, he certainly would be good for serving the guests.” 

“We’re keeping him then?” the sharp eyed one—Hwasa, asked. She sounded like she doubted the decision.

“If you think he was running from the sentinel, then none of us might have a choice in the matter,” Solar reasoned. “Regardless, he’s seen us. He knows who we are, and well, we can’t exactly have him running around knowing our faces.” She focused her attention directly back onto Jungkook. “What say you? You either can stay and work with us, or get sent back to the sentinel.” 

One of the pirates pulled the cloth from his mouth, and Jungkook took a deep, shuddering breath. 

“I’ll— I’ll work for you guys.” A cheshire grin grew onto Solar’s face. 

“Excellent.”

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Jimin stood in front of Yoongi, head bowed in deference as he delivered the news to his guide. 

“How the fuck did we lose him?” Yoongi’s voice was quiet, laden with controlled frustration. Jimin’s shoulders slumped. 

“I tried hyung. I talked to the town head, and he offered up what he knew. We tracked the guide’s path to a broken down escape shuttle in the woods, and we’re keeping an eye on it now just in case he goes back, but there’s been no updates.” The sentinel shuddered. “It was so hard, there was so much noise, and I could barely keep myself from zoning—” Yoongi softened, always weak for his sentinels. 

“Come here, baby, it’s okay.” Jimin whimpered, walking over and kneeling down between Yoongi’s knees to hug his stomach, as he was just a bit too tall to climb into Yoongi’s lap while he was sitting in this chair. The guide kissed the crown of the sentinel’s head, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. “I know you did the best you could, and I’m sorry I couldn’t go with you. Rainforests are so loud, aren’t they?” The poor baby nodded from where he had buried his head. 

Yoongi sighed, burying his nose in Jimin’s hair. Truly, he couldn’t be angry with his young mate. He was so young by sentinel standards, only having reached maturity within the last few years, and he was still working on honing his senses in order to be able to capture all of the information. Working in the rainforest must have been a horrific assault on the senses, especially because he had gone without a guide. The new ones were still being trained for their upcoming duties, and Yoongi couldn’t detach himself from the main group just in case there was an incident. 

It was unfortunate though that Bangtan hadn’t been able to find the guide, especially considering how valuable he might have been. Alas, Yoongi’s priorities were not Bangtan’s priorities, and they had technically achieved the mission objective by capturing all of the higher-ups on the Jeon ship. As such, only one of Yoongi's younger mates had been spared to go look for the guide, even though they knew he had less control over his senses, and was less likely to find the guide. 

Already, the crown was pushing them to move on to the next project. A guide was a guide to them, and with only minimal evidence (in the crown’s view) that this guide was worth pursuing for a long-term bond, they made the decision to let the mystery guide go. It wasn’t up to Yoongi to decide. 

Afterall, there were plenty of other guides to cycle through, even if it was a near-death sentence for them. The crown however, had never been particularly sensitive to the sufferings of guides. 

Yoongi pulled Jimin closer, shutting his eyes. The mystery guide’s terrified face flashed through his brain again, hardening his resolve.

He will find him. It may take some time, but by the stars, he will. 

For now though, he had a mate to reassure and take care of. 

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Living with pirates was… shockingly fine, actually. 

Jungkook wasn’t sure what to have been expecting, but it definitely wasn't the way pirates treated him. After so many years of being ignored, only occasionally receiving (dreaded) attention from his parents, it was fascinating to actually be considered a person, for once. Jungkook was definitely a servant, there was no doubt about that, and the work wasn’t the most pleasant, but he was still offered basic respect by the pirates. 

While the work they did was illegal and dangerous, it was clear the pirates’ captaining crew—Solar, Wheein, Moonbyul, and Hwasa— cared about their crew. They offered them basic respect, making sure to memorize their subordinates’ names, ask them what they needed, and pay them equally, but they carefully didn’t ask too many personal questions. In turn, the crew stayed in line when asked to look the other way, and followed orders as needed. 

The crew itself was decently large too, and consisted of all different types of sentient beings throughout the known universe. Quickly, Jungkook learned not to stare too long at the physical differences. Xameds, in particular, would take it as a physical challenge.  

Jungkook’s duties on the ship were pretty simple. Mostly cleaning, serving guests, and surprisingly helping with the piloting when needed. The captains had learned of his training and subsequently put him to work, especially after he proved to them he could competently fly when they were docked for a delivery. 

Sometimes the work was dirty. Sometimes it was grueling. And the pirates onboard weren’t exactly pacifists. (He learned how to fist fight very quickly.) But the guide had to admit, life was good on the ship. Even when, one day, the guide’s broken imprint made itself known again. 

Jungkook had barely been able to make it out of bed and into the bathroom before he puked from the sensation. He staggered out back to the main bunkroom once he had entirely emptied his stomach, but he couldn’t seem to get himself to walk back to the bunk. Another wave and he doubled over, arm outstretched as he braced himself against the wall, gasping. He was so tired of being in pain, of dealing with this imprint that he hadn’t even wanted in the first place.

Stupid fucking biology. Stupid fucking sentinels.

His knees buckled, and Jungkook collapsed onto the floor, letting out a sob. Unlike in the forest though, the guide wasn’t alone. Warm hands cupped his face, tilting it upwards to sort-of meet the eyes of a worried Captain Moonbyul, eyebrows frowned in concern as she examined his face. She closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. 

Something soft brushed against the jagged edges of his soul, having developed that way from being so far away from the sentinel he guided. Soothing as it was, Jungkook flinched at the sensation, curling up and whimpering. Moonbyul shushed the noise, dropping to the floor next to him. 

“Hey, hey it’s okay. I understand now. It’s going to be alright, I promise. Nothing will happen to you.” Jungkook opened his watery eyes, realizing exactly what was going on. 

Moonbyul was a guide. She knew . She understood. 

The realization was both comforting and utterly terrifying. 

On one hand, Jungkook could fetch an impressive price on the black market. Being discovered meant that he was in incredible danger of the pirates just locking him up and selling him off. Even if Moonbyul was a guide, she might sell him off just for the money alone. 

It’s exactly what his parents had eventually done. 

However, Jungkook was also a valuable asset for the pirates. As one of the few who could help pilot the ship, he would be worth leaving alone on only that skill. Piloting lessons were expensive, and new pilots were hard to come in the circles they operate in because of that. Of course, they could be trained later, but that was time-intensive. 

The tendrils of Moonbyuls’ consciousness brushed against him again, and her face softened. Guides couldn’t tell exactly what was on each other’s minds when doing this, but they could sense emotions, and Jungkook’s must have been easy to read. 

“We don’t deal in human trafficking, Jungkook. We’re pirates, smugglers, whatever, but we respect life. When I promise you that you will be safe, that means I’m not going to sell you off to the highest bidder.” Anger flitted across her features, quickly replaced by stone cold tenacity. “I wouldn’t inflict that on another guide. We’ll get something to protect you and block out the imprint, okay? It’ll help.” Again, she mentally reached out, the sensation of her consciousness against his feeling like pouring water on a burn. 

It wasn’t a bond, but was something that guides could do for each other. While sentinels could also reach out mentally in order to bond, by force or otherwise, guides are more powerful mentally. Guides are defined by their ability to reach out with these mental senses, and could brush up against, or tie themselves to the consciousness of other sentient beings. That is how a proper bonding should go, is guides reaching out to the sentinel to for the guide to accept them. From there, the guide could help direct a sentinel out of a zone. 

However, guides could also reach out to each other. Part of this could be useful for guide parents teaching their guiding children how to help a sentinel, and generally assessing their overall mental health. It was also helpful in guiding friends with comforting each other, as another guide’s mental help could soothe the pain of a broken bond or imprint. 

Even if guides can mentally brush up against each other, it is exceedingly rare for guides to be able to bind with each other the same way that guides and sentinels bond. It happened occasionally, but generally it was because the guides were both perfect matches for a group of sentinels. If there were enough sentinels, the power required to tether all of them and keep them safe when zoning became too great for just one guide. The second guide could then help by either alleviating the amount of work to do by helping guide a sentinel out of a zone themselves, or by amplifying the first guide’s abilities, or vice versa. 

Jungkook sighed, taking a moment to savor being comforted by his captain. It was the first time in his life that he had been able to experience it, because sentinels couldn’t comfort guides the same way without being bonded to them. 

It was incredible, and the relief made him feel woozy, as though he was close to passing out. 

Distantly, he registered the captain calling for a doctor. Then standing, being laid down. A pinch, and then the guide was out. 

☆

Waking up was an unpleasant ordeal. The pain of his imprint was gone, or at least muted down as though he had taken a strong painkiller, but the guide still had an absolutely killer headache. The effects nearly had him spiraling back into panic, the sensation just a bit too similar to being drugged on Wustani. 

After coming in to calm the guide down, the doctor carefully explained to him about his new chip. It wasn’t a tracker, like his old one had been. Nor was it intended to record any information, or dull down his aura as a guide. Instead, the chip was specifically designed to dull the pain of a broken imprint. The technology was most certainly illegal. Sentinels held the power, after all, and this chip undercut that significantly. If Guides could go around without consequence of broken imprints, well, that was a game changer.

The chip had the added benefit of making him mentally invisible as a guide to most sentinels. If they couldn’t sense his aura, then they couldn’t track him down or be drawn to him naturally. Conversely, it meant that Jungook couldn’t sense them either, but that felt like a small price to pay for the peace. 

Jungkook slumped back into his bed after the doctor had left, absolutely exhausted. The idea of the chip both frightened him and exhilarated him. What if he couldn’t sense sentinels before they were coming? The guide reached up behind his left ear, feeling the gauze. His new chip had been put in opposite of where his old one had been. 

Looking around, he soaked in the way his life had changed in just the past few weeks. Jungkook was now on a pirate ship, far away from his old life, family, and the stupid sentinels that he had been running from. He was warm, fed, and although he was doing the dirty work of a pirate ring, he was relatively safe for the time being. 

Jungkook was free.

Chapter Text

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Captain, Captain Solar!” Jungkook ran down the hallway, having seen the captain exit the mess hall, alone. She stopped, raising an eyebrow as the young guide stuttered to a halt in front of her. 

“Yes, what is it?” Captain sounded impatient. Jungkook gasped in a breath, winded.

“I just wanted to know, what’s my role here?” Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Your role?” 

“Yes captain, what… what am I supposed to be doing here?” She sighed, walking towards the command deck. The guide followed her, waiting for her answer. 

“Well, you’re a stray we picked up. You haven’t proven yourself yet.” 

“How do I do that?” She shrugged. 

“Do the dirty work. Clean the dishes, get someone to teach you how to shoot a blaster. Maybe Moonbyul can teach you some tricks. Understood?” 

“Yes, captain.”

☆

“Being a guide means more than just connecting with sentinels, Jungkook.” Moonbyul explained, hands clasped in between her crossed legs. “Being able to see auras and connect is only one facet of our power, and if properly trained, you can hone other abilities.” She opened her eyes, staring deep into Jungkook.

“We, as guides, can sense the energy in the universe. It’s easiest to do with living things, because they are constantly generating energy to power themselves, which creates excess energy that we can see through auras. It’s also why we can connect to sentinels and help guide them. But, we can also do the same with the inorganic.” She lifted her hand, holding it over a candle she had lit in between her and Jungkook. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the light flickered, and grew several centimeters, almost licking the skin of the older guide’s hand. Jungkook’s jaw dropped, and she pulled her hand away, the light retreating back to a normal size. “With enough practice, and enough time, you can learn to sense the energy of even individual atoms, and manipulate it.” 

“Why don’t the imperial academies teach us this, if we could be so powerful?” Moonbyul’s expression darkened.

“The empire views guides as nothing but a commodity, a thing to trade,” she spat. “The empire doesn’t teach us these skills because they value sentinels so much more than us. You’ll have to learn them from me, or on your own.”

“I can’t really see auras anymore, though.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re powerless.”

☆

“Put your finger on the trigger there, then aim, and shoot. ” Hwasa whispered the instructions into Jungkook’s ear, watching him closely as he shot the blaster at the target for the first time. 

He took a breath, closing one eye to aim. A zing, and a splotchy burn mark hit left of the target dot. Jungkook slumped. 

“I missed,” he muttered, frustrated at himself. Hwasa just smiled, her teeth sharp as a shark’s. 

“Well, you just have to keep practicing.” 

Jungkook lifted the rifle again.

☆

“ How do you pilot the ship through deep space? You can’t really see the stars.” Wheein didn’t look up from the navigation board. Silence stretched, dripping through the air as Jungkook stood waiting. He turned to leave, feeling awkward at having asked the question. 

“We have instruments, able to detect the position of the stars even in the middle of nowhere.” Wheein typed in something on her board, finally looking up and making eye contact with Jungkook’s surprised head turn. She gestured at him to come over. The guide hesitated, unsure. “Did you want to learn about this or no?” Jungkook shook his head. The navigator rolled her eyes.  “Well, what are you waiting for, come here.” He scurried over, still mildly afraid of Wheein’s bad mood. 

“See that screen? We use that to generate coordinates. It’s what calculates our trajectory.” Jungkook stood stock still next to Wheein, taking in the board. She points to a button. “That’s what we press when we’re ready to utilize the reactor— you know, if we’re really going intergalactic. Never press it before you have double-checked the coordinates…” she continued on, the guide raptured as she explained how to navigate a deep-space ship. 

“You said you had some piloting experience?” Jungkook nodded. 

“Yes, yes I do.” 

“Well, show me what you know.” It felt like the navigator was staring through him. “We can put that to use here.”

☆

“Concentrate, Jungkook. Breathe in, and out. Focus on your power, your energy.” It felt like Moonbyul was breathing on his neck behind him, close as she was. They were sitting across from each other in Jungkook’s room, their normal meeting spot. 

He breathed. In, out, in again. He felt the wisps of energy caress his open palms, but it was frustrating. He couldn’t see them. Jungkook knew that beforehand that he had been able to… not see per say, but identify and visualize the different bonds of energy between different people. 

That sense was gone, removed via the chip, as Moonbyul explained, but the ability to connect was still there. It was just like walking through a room blindfolded. He could feel Moonbyul behind him, her energy gently brushing against his consciousness, and he reached out with his own in greeting. 

Refocusing, Jungkook pulled away from the older guide, and tentatively reached forward with his mind, towards a lit candle in the center of the room. He had been relatively successful with his training so far, but 

Nothing happened. 

He tried again. 

Still, nothing. 

"How long do I have to concentrate,” he grumbled, wincing when the older guide pinched his ear. 

“Longer than that, brat.” Jungkook felt his lips quirk up at the corners. He settled down, reaching out again, sinking into the delicate rivers of energy around him, willing his own to alter the lit candle in front of him. 

The flame flickered. 

☆

Yoongi stared at the ceiling, leaned back in his chair, bored out of his mind. His sentinels were off ship on business, and while normally he would be with them, it was going to be a bit more… unsavory this time. 

He sighed, closing his eyes and just feeling his sentinels’ bonds. Namjoon, and his stern painted gold. Hoseok’s vibrant, dancing red. Seokjin’s striking pinks, hard as diamond and soft as silk at the same time. Jimin’s cool silver, a shimmering line in the darkness. Taehyung’s deep green, warm and comforting. They wrapped around him, gentle, warm, stable.

What color would the guide have? Yoongi shook his head, ridding himself of the thought. He leaned forward, pulling up a file he had stored in his computer. 

Officially, the case surrounding the mystery guide had been dropped. There simply wasn’t enough evidence to continue to justify funding the case. But… clues had popped up. They didn’t have much to go off of, but there had been some potential in finding him. Yoongi peered through the case, going over the files again. Grainy photographic sightings, potential leads, and theories as to how he had escaped. Maps, showcasing the movements of illegal trafficking Bangtan had been tracking. 

The guide squinted, focusing on a newly added pixelated shot of the mystery boy, taken by one of their ground crews and sent to Bangtan for review. He looked like he had aged, with cutting his hair and holding a nasty looking blaster in his hands. Yoongi clicked, showcasing the metadata behind the shot. “Taken near the Ron Ban planetary system, likely a Yellow Flower crewmate.”  The guide switched his screen back to the map, sliding his finger down as he looked for the system in question. 

They had a mission there soon. It was still a long shot, but Yoongi felt himself smiling nevertheless.

Gotcha.

He noted down the travel plan on his personal tablet, stiffening as he realized that one of his sentinels was back. Quickly, he shut down the file as his hearing picked up footsteps, pulling up another random file they were currently working on instead. 

Arms wrapped around him, and the back of his chair, pinning him to the material. The sentinel putting his chin on the guide’s shoulder as he scrolled. Yoongi relaxed, breathing out a sigh. “Jin-hyung, you’re back.” 

☆

“ We need to get out of here!” Solar shouted, hands white with how tight she gripped the railing. “Wheein, get us moving.” The navigator grunted in response, frantically reaching over to flip switches and periodically glancing at the computer in front her. Glancing over, she caught sight of Jungkook, who was standing in the corner, watching the scene unfold. Wheein snarled at him.

“JUNGKOOK, GET YOUR SORRY ASS OVER HERE.” The guide darted over, trying to get close enough to the desk, but not hover. “Alright kid, you wanted to prove yourself? Help me.” Jungkook jumped into action, trying to note what Wheein had already done and predict what she hadn’t. The two jumped back and forth in front of the navigation board, calculating out the proper route and gearing up for a run out of the system. 

“HIT THE GO, NOW.” Jungkook slammed his hand on the lever, the Yellow Flower jumping away into deep space. Wheein sighed, dropping down into the navigator’s chair next to her. The guide looked forward, jumping when he realized the captain appeared right at his side. 

Solar pat Jungkook on the back. “Good job, kid. You’re getting the hang of this.“

“Not bad for a stray.”

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

One week to present

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, locked in on the shattered plates on the floor. Negotiations had gone badly, it seemed, and the cutlery had suffered for it. With a sigh, he picked up some of the bigger pieces, resolving to go and get a broom for the rest as he threw away the bigger stuff. 

He slammed the door to the servant quarters closed, wincing at the sharp sound and hoping the higher-up crewmates didn’t hear it. It had been a long enough day already, and he didn’t need a lecture on disrespect. He may be a valuable crewmate, but that doesn’t exempt him from someone’s bad mood. 

Fucking pirates. This is one of the times where Jungkook missed his highborn background. As much as they had been generous in offering the guide a place to hide for these years, it would still be good if they could show some manners. Smashing plates on the ground if negotiations weren’t going was just crude, even if he had learned it was a normal part of trading with other pirates. 

The guide sighed, placing the tray of empty plates he had already cleared on the counter, grabbing the broom to go and clean up the mess his bosses and their guests had made before going to examine a shipment the Yellow Flower was picking up. Nearly two years, and no improvement on their manners. Tsk tsk. 

Jungkook glanced down at his watch, frowning when he realized the captain and her first mates had already been gone for much longer than he expected. They would be behind schedule for another shipment drop off if they didn’t get back soon. He grabbed the broom anyway, intent on cleaning up the smaller bits of broken china still in the meeting room. 

The guide’s earpiece crackled as he got started, the heavy metal walls of the ship making the transmission staticky. “ Kook, get down to the navigation panel. We need to get out of here quickly. Starry Night.” 

He stiffened, damn near sprinting to the navigational panel as he began the start up process. Code Starry Night, it wasn’t an emergency, but they did have to get out of there quickly. Starry night was a very specific code, referencing only one situation. 

They had another guide, either through stumbling on them, or more likely, buying from another trafficker. The code itself referenced how guides were able to see auras, as though they were different galaxies painting the darkness. Regardless, getting out of there was a high priority, you never knew who might be on the trails of this guide. 

Jungkook finished his calculations, pushing the go. Sitting back, he supervised their travel, waiting for one of the leaders to arrive and debrief him. Time dripped past at a glacial pace, the young crew member anxiously waiting for some sort of news. It hadn’t been too long since he was the guide in question, after all. 

Despite that, he still zoned out, jumping when Moonbyul tapped his shoulder, gaze hard. She jerked her head, and the younger guide followed her through the ship’s hallways, both anxious and numb. The interrogation room window came into sight as they approached, and Jungkook peered in, stomach clenching in pity at the guide’s hunched over position, unmoving. 

Moonbyul was talking.“...thankfully we managed to get him out of their system, and unharmed too. Still, he’s had a rough couple of days, I imagine. We try to buy them out when we can, you know that” Moonbyul sighed, looking defeated. “but we can only get so many out that way. Guides are expensive , it takes so much to remove them from the empire’s records.” She turned back to the window, where the handcuffed guide was slumped in his chair, unconscious still. 

“When this one wakes up, we’ll let him know where he’s at, or if he wants to go anywhere. Once he knows that we’re not going to hurt him, we’ll get him untied and such. Finding yourself on a pirate ship can be quite the shock,” she chuckled humorlessly. “Not quite sure if we’re going to do that with this one though, he’s pretty high ranking.”

Jungkook’s blood froze, noticing the purple patching on his shoulder. 

He knew that patch. 

Images flashed in his brain, the village, the sentinel he had guided back on the ship, crushing pain, salty tears, a blurry image of a despairing face. Panic bubbled in his chest, but Jungkook crushed it down, trying to continue to pay attention to Moonbyul. He was stronger than he was then, better prepared. 

“一regardless, Jungkook-ah, you have to go get the room ready for that next pickup, remember?” Jungkook nodded in understanding, pulling his eyes away from the slumped guide. 

It would be fine. It had to be. 

Jungkook wasn’t going to let anyone take him again. 

In the interrogation room, cat-like eyes flickered open.