Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

M’staeng wasn’t really sure how he got himself in this situation in the first place.

It had been a routine job. Rescuing sapients from fighting rings happened more often than most ordinary people realized. But as a high ranking officer in Am’stris’ military, things like that were just a part of a day’s work. Dealing with a Hom’ncls ship filled with captured people forced to fight or waiting to be sold was no different than usual. It was supposed to be a simple mission. 

Supposed to. 

It was not, in fact, a simple mission.

He’d been way too cocky, a fact he hated to admit. He’d succeeded easily on these kinds of missions a million times before; why would Homn’cli ships be any different from any others? That thought had him acting much too hastily for his own good. He figured he could have saved everyone on board with plenty of time before dinner. He just wanted to get it over with.

That was how he found himself in one of the cages himself, either to be forced to fight himself or sold to a slaver.

Well. This was less than ideal.

At least he didn’t have to deal with paperwork. He’d take this over the absolute nightmare that was bureaucracy any day.

He didn’t know whether or not to be relieved that H’kye wasn’t here. On one hand, she would’ve no doubt busted them out of here by now and gotten them back on track with the mission. On the other hand, he didn’t much feel like listening to her berate him for his stupidity.

Again.

He wasn’t looking forward to inevitably having to deal with that. It was a matter of when she found him, not if. Anyone who knew her - hell, knew of her - and had half a brain would know that. He was going to be scolded like a child by his subordinate, something that happened far more often than he ever expected when he’d first joined.

Whatever the Homn’cli had planned for him was starting to sound more and more appealing than what was waiting for him after he was rescued.

Because unfortunately for him, it looked like he’d have to wait to be rescued. The bars were electrified enough that if it didn’t kill him, he’d certainly be left worse for wear. Definitely not in the shape he’d want to be in when H’kye inevitably got her hands on him. He couldn’t fit through them anyway, and his sharp claws and teeth wouldn’t have been able to get through the metal no matter how hard he tried. And there weren’t any other ways he could make his escape through, as far as he could see.

They’d taken his favorite weapon, as well, but that wasn’t really a surprise. He couldn’t help but be disappointed, though. Not only would it have been excellent for escaping, but he’d made it himself. He’d worked hard on that, damn it. Creating something that allowed him to make flames with a snap of his fingers wasn’t easy, and he was damn proud of it. He likely wouldn’t be seeing it again, though.

Recreating that was gonna be a pain in the ass.

He let his eyes wander around the room full of cages he was currently in. He wasn’t sharing a cell with anyone else, but as far as he could see, pretty much everyone else in the room was. He figured he’d end up having a cellmate eventually, though. Assuming H’kye hadn’t found him by then.

The countless different species of people around him were in awful shape. They’d all clearly been here much longer than him. They were bruised and battered, covered in scars silently telling stories of what they’d been through during their time here. Many were missing fingers and toes, a few were missing an eye or two, and one was even missing an entire arm.

He knew the fighting rings the Homn’cli took part in were more intense than most, but he’d never witnessed the results with his own eyes before. A good portion of them were in far worse shape than he’d ever seen his rescued fighting ring victims in before. That alone was enough to tell him that the rumors and stories he’d heard whispered about the Homn’cli’s cruelty rang true. The mural of misery made up of the people around him was beginning to paint a picture of M’staeng’s own future here, and he found himself dreading the thought as the reality of his situation finally, truly hit him.

He was well and truly alone here, and as reluctant as he usually was to admit it, he didn’t even bother trying to lie to himself this time around.

He was terrified of what was to come.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been here.

The days kept dragging on and on, uncaring of how long time said they should be. He’d found his imprisonment to be surprisingly boring. He wasn’t really sure why he expected otherwise, if he was honest. But stars, he was certain the boredom would kill him before any fighting rings or pissed off guards did.

M’staeng spent most of his days pacing around his cell, keeping an eye on the guards and mentally keeping track of their shifts. Though to be honest, he wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to use the information. The only time there was ever an exit was when a guard came in once a day with food and water, and even though he was confident he could fight off one of them, he wasn’t stupid enough to think he could fight off all the ones waiting outside. All he could do was stare longingly at the door before it was locked again, leaving him with only his food for company.

Stars, the food. Don’t even get him started on the sorry excuse for a meal they loved giving them. It was…he wasn’t entirely sure what it was supposed to be. It was just grey slop, as far as he was concerned. It was absolutely revolting. He didn’t expect to be treated like a king or anything, far from it, but he felt like he deserved a little better than this. He was Am’stris’ Flame, damn it, not to mention the youngest colonel in any known military and still steadily climbing the ranks. So sue him if he felt he deserved a modicum of decency.

Actually, scratch that. As much as he loved to brag - playing up your impressiveness was always a good move, whether it was with subordinates or higher ups - he didn’t think he’d give his worst enemy this sorry excuse for food. He’d briefly considered a hunger strike in protest at first, before deciding that the Homn’cli would probably be just fine seeing him starve to death if he refused to eat what they gave him. Besides, he’d need his strength for when H’kye inevitably found him and would subsequently kill him for getting himself captured.

He ate whatever they gave him, but he sure as hell didn’t like it. He enjoyed making his thoughts known to the guards whenever he could, though he didn’t do it too often. He didn’t want to aggravate them too much and have them decide to take it out on him, after all.

The Homn’cli clearly didn’t care about damaged merchandise. The people around him were a testament to that.

M’staeng found that today, the unending boredom was being replaced by worry. The guards had come around with food and water, as usual, but this time, he didn’t receive any. That was strange. His comments had never pissed them off enough for them to withhold food from him before. He couldn’t think of anything in particular he said that would’ve angered them enough to change that. He tried questioning a few of them as they walked by, but they conveniently seemed to have gone deaf as soon as he tried.

Assholes.

He didn’t have to wait too much longer for his questions to be answered. A group of guards were carrying… something along with them. He leaned forward in hopes of getting a better look at what it was. Not that he needed to. They stopped in front of his cell before opening the door, throwing it in.

It was - well, he wasn’t sure if it was a person or an animal. He’d never seen the species before. They were laying turned away from him, so all he could see was long golden hair cascading down their back and the tan skin of their one visible arm, the other curled in front of them where M’staeng couldn’t see. Everything else was covered by black clothing. Probably sapient, then, based on that alone. He didn’t see any reason for them to have dressed an animal. Besides, the Homn’cli were known for almost exclusively using sapients to fight. He didn’t see why that would’ve changed now.

Strange. He’d never seen a species that naturally had their skin on display. It was always covered by fur or feathers or something. But not for this one, apparently.

They groaned suddenly, before pushing themself up. M’staeng froze. How the hell were the drugs wearing off that quickly? It should’ve been impossible! Especially for a creature as small as them. They were maybe five feet, compared to M’staeng’s twelve, definitely one of the smallest species he’d ever seen. How could they possibly have processed the sedatives so much faster than he did?

They put a hand on their head, presumably due to a headache or lingering dizziness, before turning towards him. Their eyes locked, and M’staeng found that his situation had just gotten much more complicated than before.

Seeing their face, he knew what they were now. Though most knew of them, many were doubtful they even existed, which was understandable - M’staeng hadn’t believed something so impossible at first, either. Fewer knew for absolute certain that they did, and even less had any idea what they looked like. M’staeng, thanks to his high rank and the impression he’d made on the higher ups, had been making since his enlistment, was privy to this mostly unknown knowledge.

The Homn’cli had somehow gotten their hands on a human. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to know how; not even he knew the location of their home planet, and the few who did certainly had no plans to go anywhere near it. No one wanted to mess with a deathworld or anyone on it.

Or at least, no one except the Homn’cli, apparently.

Golden eyes stared into black, pinning him in place, and M’staeng got the distinct feeling they were scrutinizing his entire being. He suppressed a shudder. He couldn’t afford to show any sort of weakness now. It was surely a death sentence.

Though realistically, he knew he wouldn’t be making it out of this alive either way. Death incarnate was currently staring him down and sizing him up, after all. As much as he prided himself on his abilities in combat, he knew there wasn’t much he could do against a deathworlder.

He hoped H’kye wouldn’t be too disappointed that someone got to him before her.

Chapter Text

Edward groaned as he sat up, placing a hand on his head. He was disoriented and dizzy from whatever drugs those alien bastards had given him previously, something he was still pissed about.

They’d better hope he didn’t get his hands on them.

As the dizziness faded, he suddenly became aware of the sound of breathing from behind him. He whipped around, making eye contact with whoever was there, maintaining it in the hopes of intimidating them enough that they’d back off. He could hold his own in a fight, of course, but he really didn’t want to test his abilities so soon after being drugged.

It took everything in him not to break eye contact and blink in surprise. The alien he was currently having a staring contest with looked like a giant cat, though their snout was definitely longer than any cat’s he’d seen before. Not as long as a dog’s, though. Oh, and they had two arms along with their four legs. Definitely different from a normal cat. But they looked pretty cat-like other than that. God, if Al were here, he’d be all over them immediately. He’d probably try to take the alien with them, the way he always did with strays back home.

He felt a pang of sorrow in his chest at that. Al. He wasn’t entirely sure what happened to his little brother. Was he here too? Did he escape? He hadn’t been able to tell much of what had been going on ever since the aliens had first boarded their ship. They’d fucking shot him with some sort of sedative, knocking him unconscious fairly quickly before they’d apparently dragged him off. He had no clue what had become of his little brother.

If they’d hurt him, there would be hell to pay. Ed would make sure of it.

Ed wasn’t exactly an expert in alien facial expressions or body language, but the cat person seemed nervous because of him. Satisfied he’d sufficiently intimidated the bastard, he stood up rather shakily - damn those stupid fucking aliens and their stupid fucking sedatives - before walking over to the bars of his cage, intent on finding a way out.

The cat person made a distressed noise behind him as he reached out to grab the bars experimentally. A jolt of electricity ran through him and he jumped back. His flesh hand was spasming in response to the electricity. He was thankful it hadn’t been forced close around the bars, at least. 

He waited for his hand to stop spasming, cursing under his breath the whole time. The bars were electrified. Because of course they were. Still, even though it hurt like a bitch, he didn’t think it warranted the alien’s concern.

He turned around to search the cell further to check and see if there was any other way out, but paused as he saw the cat person back away from him, shrinking down on themself. Their eyes scanned him up and down, continually lingering on his metal arm.

See, this was why Ed always had his coat and gloves on him. Always. He hated the attention he got from others when they noticed his automail limbs. But the bastards who kidnapped him apparently decided to take his clothes at some point - which was fucking creepy, by the way - leaving him with his tank top, pants, and shoes. He missed his usual layers he wore all the time.

Well. At least the alien across from him didn’t know about the metal leg yet. He didn’t wanna deal with any more gawking than he already had to.

After he finished searching the cell, deciding there was not, in fact, any way to escape, he sat himself down in the corner opposite of the giant cat person, watching the guards intently. Maybe memorizing their shifts or something could help in the long run. At the very least, it couldn’t hurt. Not like he had anything better to do, anyway.

He wished he could just use alchemy and get this shitshow over with, but that wasn’t a viable option at the moment. He wasn’t sure how it would react with something electrified and even if it turned out fine, he didn’t feel like taking on all the guards himself afterward. Going through the solid walls would just end with him in another cell, and that still didn’t take care of the guard problem. He was half tempted to make his own exit by tunneling through the floors or the ceiling, but without knowing the layout of the ship, he didn’t want to risk it. He’d be going in completely blind, and with his luck, he’d probably manage to hit something the ship needed to keep running. So for now, he was stuck here, waiting.

His cellmate, seemingly less wary now that Edward had settled himself in the corner, came out of his own corner and began speaking with people in other cells. Obviously, Edward had no idea what they were saying, but he did catch one word he recognized.

Human.

Looks like the cat knew what he was. And though it was hard to read emotions from species so different from himself, he was pretty sure the others had frozen in fear upon hearing that. It was strange, Edward thought, just how scared everyone seemed to be of him. Of humans. It was also weird that the cat seemed to recognize what he was just by looking at him, yet no one else did.

Well, it was probably for the best that they were at least a little scared, anyway. They were less likely to fuck with him that way. Though unless they somehow got out of here, he only had his cellmate to worry about. And though the cat person seemed less fearful than before, they definitely still appeared to be cautious around him. Edward hoped it was the kind of caution that made them want to avoid him instead of trying to catch him off guard to attack him before he hurt them (as if he would do that unprovoked). He did not want to be on the receiving end of those claws. Or those teeth.

Edward put his head in his knees, not wanting to deal with the blatant staring from everyone else. Still a bit drowsy from the sedatives, he felt himself begin to nod off. Deciding that the giant cat probably wouldn’t try to attack him in his sleep, he allowed himself to doze off.

M’staeng couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten, and it was beginning to wear him down.

The guards continued to bring the other prisoners food, but none for him or the human. They still brought them water, but significantly less than he and probably the human needed.

It was becoming abundantly clear that they intended for the human to eat him. Giving them each less water to encourage the human to attack him for his share, not feeding them so the human would be encouraged to hunt him. It was all to try and get the human to finish him off. He wasn’t entirely sure why; Am’stris’ flame would no doubt fetch a high price from buyers or be sought after in fighting rings. Maybe some form of revenge for all the fighting rings he’d broken up and slave ships he’d stopped in the past? The Homn’cli were probably participating in many of those fighting rings and selling to those slavers, themselves. He’d probably been responsible for a lot of lost money because of that.

M’staeng had only ever seen his death going one way before: with him as the leader of Am’stris, passing away from old age after successfully bringing his planet into prosperity like it had never seen before.

He did not foresee himself being eaten by a deathworlder before he was even middle aged.

Granted, the deathworlder hadn’t seemed to see that as an option, either. He wasn’t sure why. They had to be hungry after all this time. He could see them growing visibly thinner, staring longingly at the guards every time they walked by with food only to be ignored. The human was no doubt strong enough to kill him if they wanted; they walked around with a metal arm as if it weighed nothing, for fuck’s sake! M’staeng didn’t think he’d be able to do that. Even with their size difference, the human would certainly win in a fight. Surely they knew that, too, or at least that they were strong enough to have a good chance against him in a fight.

So why didn’t they attack? What was stopping them? He knew for a fact they ate meat, so why weren’t they going for the food source right next to them?

He didn’t understand. The most attention they’d pay to him was when he’d get up to pace around the cell impatiently before returning their eyes to the guards outside. They didn’t hardly move from the corner they’d settled themself in. It only added to M’staeng’s confusion.

Deathworlders were supposed to be wild, violent, merciless. They were supposed to be willing to do anything to keep themselves alive. But the little human in the cage with him didn’t seem to care what they were supposed to be. M’staeng was having trouble wrapping his head around just how different his expectations of humans were from reality.

On the bright side, at least he wouldn’t have to disappoint H’kye. She’d still have the chance to kill or otherwise maim him when she found him.

M’staeng’s eyes widened in surprise as not one, but two bowls were thrown down in front of him. He’d never been so happy to see the disgusting grey slop masquerading as food. They’d decided to give him enough water this time around, too! He didn’t bother with manners as he dug into the disgusting food hurriedly, too hungry to care.

Looks like they’d given up on the human eating him, at least for now. That was good. H’kye would probably find a way to bring him back from the dead just to kill him herself if he got himself eaten by a deathworlder.

He slowed himself down to a much more reasonable pace after making it about halfway through his bowl, noticing the human watching him eat curiously out of the corner of his eye. They hadn’t touched theirs yet. Not that he was too surprised by that. M’staeng had wondered if it was even food the first time he’d gotten it, too.

He watched as the human picked some of the food up in their hand and sniffed it experimentally, wrinkling their nose. They looked at him, and even without words, M’staeng could hear the silent question of “Is this really food?”

They hesitantly stuck the food into their mouth before making a face. M’staeng didn’t need to know how to read human facial expressions to know that was a look of pure disgust. He resisted the urge to laugh at their expression, not wanting to aggravate them. They looked as though they wanted to spit it out, but swallowed anyway before pushing their bowl of slop to him.

M’staeng blinked in surprise. He knew it tasted like shit, but the human had to know it was important to eat what they could, had to know they needed to keep their strength up. But they weren’t eating it. They fucking gave it to M’staeng. Why the hell was a deathworlder trying to share with him?

Well. That wouldn’t do. They needed to eat. They’d gotten skinny enough during their time here as it is. M’staeng didn’t want to watch them waste away any more than they already had.

Not that M’staeng cared or anything. He just wanted to make sure they didn’t change their mind about eating him. Yeah, that was all. It wouldn’t have mattered to him, otherwise.

With a wave of confidence he hadn’t felt since his cellmate arrived, he grabbed the human’s bowl, walking over and plopping it down in front of them.

“You need to eat,” he told them sternly, uncaring of the fact that they couldn’t actually understand him. God, he was starting to sound like H’kye when he got too absorbed in his work. Hy’ues would be laughing at him if he could see him now.

The human blinked up at him, confusion clearly written on his face. He pushed the bowl closer forward with his paw before gesturing at it, then the human. The corners of their mouth turned down and their eyes narrowed at that. Was that a threat? An expression of displeasure? M’staeng couldn’t tell.

Well, no matter. The human hadn’t attacked him even when they were starving, so even though he was still a bit wary, he figured it probably wasn’t a threat. If it was, he didn’t think they’d act on it.

“Don’t make that face at me. Do you want to be too weak to fight when you’re put in a fighting ring and get yourself killed?” The thought made M’staeng feel strangely uncomfortable. Why should he care if a fucking deathworlder died? He didn’t know, but he clearly did. More material for Hy’ues to use to make fun of him, he supposed. He pushed the bowl even closer to the human, keeping his steely gaze on them.

The human’s eyes looked as far up as they could - and what a strange gesture that was; what did it mean? - as they sighed, before reluctantly grabbing the bowl and beginning to eat slowly. M’staeng couldn’t help but feel a bit prideful at that. He’d won a fight with a deathworlder! Granted, it probably would’ve been more impressive if it was a physical fight, but still! He’d won, and that was what mattered.

After the human finished eating, looking like they were trying hard not to vomit with every bite, M’staeng figured it was time to start teaching the human a few things. It looked like they were going to be cellmates for a while, yet they didn’t even know each other’s names! Nothing that he couldn’t fix, though.

“Hey,” he called, getting the human to look at him. Satisfied they were paying attention, he began trying to educate them. “M’staeng,” he said pointing to himself. Upon seeing the patches of hair above their eyes furrow as they tilted their head slightly - an expression of confusion? - he repeated his name, moving his hand a bit in emphasis as he continued pointing to himself.

Their eyes widened in realization. “Mustang?” they tried. Well, they were adding an extra sound to his name and weren’t quite pronouncing the second half correctly, but considering it was probably the first non-human name they’d learned, they were doing pretty good.

“M’staeng,” he corrected.

“M’staeng?” they tried again. He couldn’t help the swell of pride he felt as they got it right. They were a fast learner. Unable to verbally confirm it in a way they’d understand, he settled on purring in affirmation.

That was apparently the wrong move. The human bared their teeth at him upon hearing the noise. He flinched against his will. Did he accidentally threaten them? Insult them? Why were they suddenly upset with him? Maybe he would die at the hands of a deathworlder, after all. Trying to communicate with them was a stupid idea.

But the human quickly closed their mouth, tilting their head and making the same expression that M’staeng had previously figured was confusion. They held a hand up in front of their chest, looking as though they wanted to reach out to him but were hesitating. Was he misinterpreting their previous expression? But what else could baring teeth be other than a threat?

Well, if anyone had to be different from the rest of the galaxy, he supposed a human would. He slowly moved out of his flinched position, trying to force himself to relax.

The human seemed satisfied with that, at least. After waiting a moment, M’staeng felt his fear dwindle, seeing as the human did not attack him like the teeth-baring implied.

They pointed to themself. “Edward.”

That was an easy enough name to pronounce. He repeated it back to them. They shook their head up and down once - a gesture of confirmation? - and the corners of their lips turned up as they had when they’d bared their teeth at him, though they were clearly taking care to keep their mouth closed this time.

Huh. It really wasn’t a threat, then.

The human pointed at themself again. “Ed,” they said. What? M’staeng tilted his head in confusion before it hit him.

That was the first part of their name. M’staeng had definitely said it correctly before, so it wasn’t a correction. Was it a shortened version of their name? Did they prefer it to the full thing? He didn’t see why an already short name needed to be made any shorter, but it was the only thing that made sense. He said it back to them, and they repeated the same gesture and facial expression as before. Definitely a confirmation, then.

He continued teaching them what he could, pointing at objects before saying their names and purring every time they said the words correctly, something that made the corners of their lips turn up each time without fail. So that expression in particular wasn’t just a confirmation, but maybe the head shaking thing was? But what did that expression mean, then? He wished he could ask.

After their impromptu lesson, M’staeng curled up in preparation for a nap. Edward followed suit, curling up in his own corner. Not surprising. They’d seemed to be growing more and more tired as their lesson dragged on.

M’staeng would have to figure out how to teach them more than just nouns. Those were easy; all he had to do was point at an object and say its name and Ed understood. Things like verbs and adjectives would be a little more complicated to teach without him knowing any human language he could reference.

That was a problem for later, though. They knew each other’s names and could probably communicate what they needed to as long as they were in this cell by simply saying object names. They couldn’t hold very complex conversations - or any real conversations at all - but they’d make do with what they had. He’d have to be content with that for now. Honestly, it was more than he’d expected since their arrival. He’d figured he’d die before they’d be able to learn to communicate. But of course, they turned all his expectations on their head. For the first time since Edward had gotten here, M’staeng’s sleep was deep and restful.

Chapter Text

Something felt different, wrong, had for the past week or so, and Edward wasn’t sure why.

Of course, there was always a sense of wrongness in the air when you’ve been kidnapped and held captive by aliens for God knows what reason. That was a given. But it was a different sort of wrongness than was usually here. Edward didn’t know what to make of it.

He knew he wasn’t the only one who felt this way, either. His fellow prisoners seemed aware of it, as well. He could hear an edge of nervousness in all their voices as they spoke among each other, M’staeng included. He wished he knew what was going on. Unfortunately, as much as M’staeng had been teaching him lately, he didn’t know enough of the language for him to be able to ask what was going on. Hell, even if he did, he doubted he’d be able to understand the answer.

So even though he’d been trying to go about his life as normal - well, as normal as it could be in his current situation - there was a certain tenseness staining everything he did. It was harder to focus on M’staeng’s language lessons and choking down the “food” he was given without puking became much more difficult than usual. He couldn’t quell the worry that just seemed to be growing as each day went by.

Today was the worst it had been. The air was so thick with tension a knife could cut through it. M’staeng kept giving him weird looks that he didn’t know how to interpret, but he could’ve sworn they looked scared.

Edward really didn’t know what to make of that. Sure, M’staeng was scared of him at first, but they’d built a sort of trust since then. So why the hell did M’staeng seem scared of him again?

Ed’s racing thoughts came to a halt as he came to a realization. No, they weren’t scared of him. They were scared for him. M’staeng usually didn’t get too close to him, keeping a bit of distance between them at all times. Ed was pretty sure they didn’t realize they even did it. But they’d been hovering around him all day, getting much closer than they usually got and seeming as though they wanted to come even closer but were hesitant.

Well, now Edward’s worry was bordering on full on panic. He’d realized pretty much everyone here viewed him as a threat, for whatever reason. Even M’staeng, with their ridiculous height and sharp teeth and claws, had been terrified at first. What could be so bad that they were scared for him? Ed really didn’t want to find out.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the ship jolting around him. What the fuck? Were they crashing? Landing? What was happening outside his little cell?

His attention was pulled to the door as he heard it open. A group of guards walked in, stopping in front of him. Two of them grabbed him harshly, one on either side, and forced him to stand. Before he could blink, he found himself being pushed outside the cage, guards on every side of him with weapons in hand, pointed at him, daring him to just try to make a run for it.

He turned his head back to get one last glimpse of M’staeng. They looked like they desperately wanted to run after him, but knew they couldn’t. All too soon, the door was slammed shut and locked, and Edward was taken away from the only light in this godforsaken place.

Edward squinted as light suddenly assaulted his vision, holding a hand up in an effort to block it out. He felt himself get pushed roughly before hearing a door slam shut behind him.

As his eyes adjusted to the sudden onslaught of light, he took in his surroundings. He was standing outdoors, in what looked like a stadium, if stadiums were usually filled with dirt and rocks instead of grass. There were crowds of people sitting in the dome surrounding him. An alien stood directly across from him. They resembled a lizard, if lizards were bipedal, had four arms, and were 15 feet tall. Lizards should not be 10 feet taller than him, damn it. They also had ears on either side of their head that reminded him of a basset hound’s, but covered in pale green scales instead of fur and pointed at the end. He noted they had claws to rival M’staeng’s, as well.

Edward heard the voice of an announcer from somewhere above him. He couldn’t understand a word they said except for one. Human. They were talking about him. He was here for the crowd’s entertainment. Lovely.

As soon as the announcer’s words stopped, he heard a loud buzzing noise sound throughout the arena. Clearly a start signal, but to start what? Edward still wasn’t sure just why he was here.

The basset-lizard-thing apparently did, though. They took off, sprinting towards him at a surprisingly fast speed. Edward barely had time to create a wall in front of him with alchemy, blocking them. He heard the claws hit the stone in front of him, creating an awful noise like nails on a chalkboard when they scratched it.

Still caught off guard by the unexpected attack, he didn’t react as quickly as he should have to their next move. He ducked down, but not fast enough. He earned four large gashes on his cheek as a result that stung painfully. Still, he got off relatively easily. If he had dodged any later, those claws would have pierced his neck.

So not only were they fighting him, but they were fighting to kill. Great. Well, it explained why M’staeng was so worried, at least.

He jumped back, creating the blade on his right arm that was always his go-to during fights. Creating it slowed him down though, allowing the lizard person to slice through his left arm. He hissed in pain, doing his best to ignore how much it hurt and the blood running down both his face and his arm.

Teacher would be disappointed in him if she were here. He was already bleeding quite a bit and he hadn’t even gotten a single hit on his opponent. She’d kick his ass if she could see his performance. Well, even if she can’t see me, I can’t let her down. Newly motivated, he took a swing at the alien in front of him.

And he missed. Damn, they were fast. But so was Ed. They swung at each other, both managing to dodge every time one got close to the other. It was a sort of deadly dance between him and his opponent.

The dirt beneath him, Edward noticed, was soft enough it was easy to leave tracks in it if he pushed in slightly, though the lizard was treading lightly enough that they didn’t leave any marks. With an idea suddenly forming in his mind, he began subtly dragging his automail foot in the dirt, leading them in a circle. He could still turn this match around to be in his favor. 

The alien hissed - quite literally; it reminded Ed of a snake - in irritation at their inability to hit him. He grinned. They were wearing down and getting frustrated, which meant they’d be more prone to mistakes. That was good. This fight was going exactly as planned.

“What’s the matter, you scaly bastard? Don’t tell me you’re getting tired already!” he taunted. Though they couldn’t understand him, he figured the mocking tone would probably be enough to rile them up further. And sure enough, it did. They growled - what was with all the animal noises? - before lunging at him, right as he drew the last mark within the circle.

And that was their mistake. Edward dove to his right, slamming his hands down on the transmutation circle he’d created. The flat ground rose beneath his feet, knocking his opponent over in the process. Good. Now he had the high ground.

As the lizard tried to pick themself back up, Edward leaped down from his tower, blade poised to strike. He sent it through their arm. If he could injure both their arms enough, their claws would no longer be a threat and he’d have no problem winning.

That was the plan, anyway. Of course, things didn’t go the way he’d wanted. Because why would they?

His eyes widened as their left arm fucking flew off , yellow blood gushing profusely from the wound. Holy fucking shit. Just how fragile were they if a small stabbing could fucking take their limbs off? It was beginning to dawn on him just why exactly everyone seemed so fearful of him.

The alien before him collapsed to the ground, crying out in pain. An impossible amount of blood was spilling out of them at an alarming rate. Edward stood there, frozen in horror, unable to do anything but watch as their breaths slowed and eventually came to a stop.

Oh, god. What the hell did he just do? He hadn’t meant to kill them! He had no idea that would happen because of his attack.

Distantly, he heard the crowd cheering around him as the announcer began speaking again. He felt too far away, too detached to truly process any of it. He just killed someone. And they were cheering!

He detransmuted his blade before he knelt before the body, placing his fingers on their neck to check for a pulse, desperately hoping they were still alive somehow. They were not. Edward felt sick.

Looking down, he noticed that in his desperate need to check if they were still alive, he hadn’t paid any attention to just where he was putting his limbs. His arms, hands, and knees were coated in the yellow blood staining the ground that was now beneath him.

It was all too much. The cheering of the crowd, the blood painting him, the body in front of him - he couldn’t handle it. He knelt down further, both his arms and knees now on the ground, and promptly emptied the meager contents of his stomach.

He was suddenly aware of guards on either side of him, lifting him into a standing position before walking closer to the stands. He distantly noticed some other guards hauling the body away. The cheering grew louder, but he certainly didn’t feel like he’d won anything. He doubted he looked like it either, covered in red and yellow blood, with vomit staining his front. He wanted to cry, to get some form of release, but he was too numb, too in shock for any tears to come.

He heard the announcer speaking again as he was led to an exit, presumably announcing the next match. He ignored it. He just wanted out of there, wanted to forget everything that just transpired, but froze as he heard a voice behind him.

“Stop, please! Where are you taking me? What are you gonna do to me?” it called. Ed’s eyes widened. That was English. And he knew that voice.

He whipped around with a newfound energy, suddenly uncaring of the guards with their weapons around him. “Al!” he called out desperately. “Al!”

He wanted to run to his brother, to protect him from facing the same things he just did, but he didn’t get very far. He heard the buzz of electricity behind him before the guards hit him with their weapons, sending the current through his body.

He fell to the ground, vision blurring. He heard Al’s call of “Brother!”, but it was distant, almost sounding like he was underwater. His mind felt like mush, too overwhelmed with everything to even think. Unable to handle everything that had happened to him in not even an hour, he passed out, more than willing to let blissful unconsciousness take him.

Chapter Text

M’staeng paced around anxiously, keeping an eye outside the cell at all times in the hopes of seeing Edward. It felt like he’d been doing this for hours, even though it had probably only been forty-five minutes at most. He knew the little human was strong, but that didn’t do much to quell his worry. The fights were brutal; Ed’s match very well could have killed them.

Suddenly, he heard a larger group of guards heading his way. He pressed himself as close to the bars as he could get without actually touching them and electrocuting himself, trying to get a better look, daring to let himself hope.

Sure enough, his hopes were correct. It was Ed! They were alive! Ed was alive! He could feel the tension leaving his body knowing the human had come back to him alive.

He wasn’t relaxed for long, though. A new kind of anxiety settled over him as an unconscious Edward was tossed back into the cell with him. They were alive, but the state they were in…

Stars, what happened to them?

There were four large gashes on their cheek and their flesh arm looked like it had been torn through as easily as scissors tear through paper. They were painted in dried red and yellow blood, and dried vomit stained their shirt. They were practically coated in dirt, as well.

M’staeng pushed down his own nausea that had risen at the state Ed was in, at the smell of iron and sickness filling the tiny cell. Right now, Ed needed him. He’d be there for them when they woke up.

He sat a bit away from them despite how close he wanted to get, not wanting to startle them when they woke up. He watched the rise and fall of their chest, letting it reassure him that despite the state they were in, they were alive.

He’d have to keep an eye on those wounds, too. He wouldn’t be shocked if they got an infection. He doubted anyone had bothered to clean them. And though he knew the Homn’cli wouldn’t let them get an infection bad enough they’d die - they wouldn’t want to risk such a large source of profit, after all - they wouldn’t care if Edward was sick or in pain from it, would probably enjoy watching the little human suffer.

He felt a pang of… something in his chest - he couldn’t tell what - at the thought of Ed suffering any more than they clearly already had. Sadness? Anger? Something else entirely? He didn’t know. What he did know was that, as much as he hated it, there wasn’t much of anything M’staeng could do for Ed right now. He didn’t know what he could possibly do to make things any easier on them. He’d never felt so useless before.

M’staeng hated feeling useless.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as Edward stirred. They groaned, putting a hand on their head as they sat up, before meeting M’staeng’s eyes.

It felt awfully reminiscent of their first meeting.

“M’staeng,” they croaked. Their voice sounded close to breaking. They didn’t seem capable of saying anything else, not because of a lack of knowledge, but because just saying his name seemed to be enough to drain them of all their energy.

They didn’t need to say anything else, though. It was just his name, but it communicated more than enough.

Their chin began to quiver and their eyes were blinking rapidly. M’staeng felt his worry increasing by the second. He’d never seen them do that before. What were they doing? What did it mean? What was-?

His anxiety-fueled train of thought came to a sudden halt as water began leaking out of Edward’s eyes without any warning.

Alarm coursed through his body as he scrambled over to them, rapidly closing the distance between them. It was the closest he’d ever been to them, a distant, non-panicky part of his mind noted. As he began checking over them, he berated himself internally. How could I have missed the fact that they’d hurt their eyes? he wondered, filled with guilt at the thought.

Ed began rubbing at one of their eyes with their flesh hand. “No, no, no, don’t do that,” M’staeng told them, anxiety somehow increasing even more, if that was possible. “You don’t want to make it worse.”

As Edward just blinked up at him, M’staeng realized they wouldn’t be able to understand most of the words he just said, and definitely not with as quickly as he’d just spoken. He’d have to simplify it.

“Eyes hurt. No touch,” he told them, hoping it got the message across. Evidently it did, as Ed’s eyes widened in realization. They paused for a moment to come up with the right words before responding.

“Eyes no hurt. Water when big feel.” Clumsy wording, but it got the message across.

If he were honest, M’staeng thought that sounded fake. Their eyes leaked water when they felt strong emotions? What the hell? He’d never heard of a species that did that before. Still, he couldn’t help but relax a bit knowing that Edward wasn’t as hurt as he thought.

“You okay?” he questioned, tilting his head slightly. He didn’t mean physically, they clearly weren’t in that regard, but he wasn’t sure just how much of a toll the fight took on them mentally. He couldn’t observe their mental state as well as he could their physical one, unfortunately.

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say, though. The water leaking out of their eyes seemed to start falling faster and they began trembling.

M’staeng froze in terror as they leaped towards him, fearing the worst. They weren’t attacking, though, despite what all of M’staeng’s instincts were telling him. They wrapped their arms as tightly as they could around his neck without hurting him before burying their face in his chest, sobbing loudly.

M’staeng, unsure of what to do but wanting to provide comfort to the upset human, cautiously wrapped his arms around Ed the same way they did with him. That seemed to be the right move. They pushed into him even more, practically wailing at this point. Words began spilling out of their mouth in their human language at a rapid speed. He had no idea what they were saying, but that was okay. Whatever they were confessing was clearly something they needed to tell someone, even if they knew M’staeng couldn’t understand. He could understand the emotions behind the words, and that was enough.

He purred soothingly, hoping to provide some sort of comfort to the sobbing human in his arms. Eventually, their cries grew quieter and their trembling lessened, until both eventually came to a stop. They seemed exhausted but lighter after they’d calmed down. They pulled their arms away from M’staeng, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment until they’d readjusted themself to be in a half-sitting, half-lying position, head pressed against M’staeng’s chest and their body curling in on itself. Their breathing slowed, and M’staeng realized with no small amount of surprise that they’d fallen asleep on him.

He was shocked that the deathworlder trusted him so much. He couldn’t say he minded this new development, though. His heart fluttered at the thought of Edward feeling able to rely on him so much.

Careful not to wake them, he readjusted the two of them to where they were both lying down. He curled around them protectively the same way he remembered his own parents doing with him when he was just a kit. He was grateful for the size difference between them that allowed him to do this in the first place.

He knew the little human was strong, that they certainly didn’t need any protection from him. Hell, they’d probably be the one protecting him if they were in any danger. But it had to be difficult, trying to be strong all the time. Especially on this ship, surrounded by unfamiliar species that all feared them. They’d had no one to rely on except for themself.

That wouldn’t be the case anymore. M’staeng would be here for them whenever they needed. After everything they’d been through, how could he not? He curled up tighter around the human, gently nuzzling their hair. It felt like he and Ed were the only two people in the galaxy right now, something M’staeng found that he minded much less than he previously would have expected. As he began purring contentedly, satisfied that the human was okay for the time being, he, too, drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Alphonse wasn’t sure just how long he’d been held captive. Over a month, at least. He hadn’t been able to keep track of the days. The day/night cycle on the ship was different from the one on Earth, though he wasn’t entirely sure by how much.

His kidnapping had been a shock, to say the least. No one had known for certain there was any life at all beyond Earth, let alone intelligent life. Having hostile aliens board their ship and kidnap at least two of them - he knew Ed was here somewhere, too, but he had no idea what happened to everyone else - was definitely not something they’d foreseen happening.

Him, Ed, and Winry being on board at their ages hadn’t exactly been legal, and with everything that had happened since they joined the crew, he figured that it was probably for the best. Nothing to be done about it now, though.

Their crew had wanted an alchemist to join. They were searching potentially life-sustaining planets and figured someone with intimate knowledge of the elements certainly wouldn’t hurt, especially when they collected samples from each planet - regardless of whether or not they found any sort of life (they never did). The ship itself was capable of sustaining the crew for years. They grew their own food, eating some of the plants they grew and synthesizing meat with some of the others. They started off with a large supply of water and, since they’d been visiting exclusively planets that could potentially sustain life, getting and purifying more water throughout the trip wasn’t an issue. He knew they created their own fuel somehow, but he wasn’t familiar with the materials used or the process. Alphonse never was very good at that sort of thing.

They hadn’t had too much luck finding an alchemist. Alchemy was a difficult field that could take years to gain even a basic understanding of it. Most people who were any good at it already had well established careers, not to mention families. With them planning on leaving Earth for years - they hadn’t given any exact numbers, just knowing it would be a long time - that wasn’t something most alchemists were willing to even consider.

That was where he and Ed came in.

The unknown length of time they’d be gone, with the only certainty being that it’d be a few years, at least, hadn’t fazed the two of them. Winry had seemed unbothered by it, too. To three orphans with nowhere to go and unsure what their next step would be, it seemed perfect. Their lives were already uncertain; what was a little more surprise? So he and Edward, though they knew it was a long shot, had sent in applications to join.

The only reason they were even given the time of day was because of a simple typo. His brother, excited by the idea of starting life over, had been careless filling out the application. He hadn’t noticed when he mistyped his date of birth, accidentally putting his age as thirty-one instead of eleven.

Al hadn’t made a mistake like that, so Edward was the only one they expressed any interest in. Of course, they were less than pleased when he and his brother showed up so Ed could demonstrate his abilities. They told the two of them to go home, implying some negative things about their capabilities due to their ages. Al had chosen to ignore it, but his brother, being the hot-head that he was, started a shouting match with them before deciding he was going to show off his alchemy anyway.

They changed their minds pretty quickly when they saw Ed transmuting without a circle. Not that Al could blame them for that. Not even he could do that. His brother and their teacher were the only two people he’d ever even heard of who could do that.

You didn’t have to know a thing about alchemy to realize how useful being able to transmute without having to be able to memorize and perfectly draw circles for specific transmutations was. His brother was perfect for what they wanted.

Of course, minors weren’t supposed to go into space. It was illegal. They couldn’t fly on any spacecraft, whether it was government-owned, owned by a company, or by an individual person. There were no exceptions.

But Ed was an invaluable asset; they’d never get another alchemist like him and they knew it. So despite the trouble they’d no doubt be in if they were caught, they agreed to take him. Paperwork always had to be filled out whenever someone left the planet, and if Ed’s age was marked down as thirty-one instead of eleven, well, no one would know the difference.

He and Winry were only able to come along because of Ed’s insistence. His brother adamantly refused to go without him, explaining that having another talented alchemist to work with would make things much easier (definitely not because he couldn’t bear the thought of going anywhere without Al). Winry was easy enough to get allowed on board. Alchemy would be a hell of a lot harder if his automail broke down - which it would, without maintenance from an engineer every so often - so it was only natural his mechanic come along.

With fake documents filled out for the three of them, they were finally able to journey into space, where they spent the next four years of their lives.

And that brought him to the present day. He’d been attacked, drugged, and captured by aliens for reasons unknown to him until recently. He was forced into a fighting ring, where he assumed bets were being placed and a profit was being made thanks to him.

God, he felt sick just thinking about the fighting ring. He hadn’t meant to hurt them like he did. He didn’t know how fragile they were compared to humans. If he had, he’d never have hit as hard as he did. It haunted him, what he did that day. There was so much blood.

He shook his head as if to physically force the thoughts out of his head. It hadn’t been completely terrible. He found out his brother was there because of it. Ed was here, on the ship and alive. He wasn’t alone here.

Well, saying he was alone even if Ed hadn’t been there would be a lie. He shared a cell with two aliens that had seemed determined to befriend him the moment they met him. He didn’t understand it in the slightest, but he was grateful nevertheless.

L’ng and Me’i were godsends. He figured he probably would have given up completely by now if it weren’t for them. They’d been there for him since the beginning. They taught him their language, always somehow knew when he needed comfort and were more than willing to give it, and were always a constant that would be there, that he knew he could rely on.

They’d even picked up the shattered pieces of him when he returned from his fight, bloodied and battered and broken. They were right there to put him back together again.

They’d also taught him that it was, in fact, possible to be cuddled violently. Al still wasn’t entirely sure whether to be comforted or threatened by it.

It was just something he’d have to get used to, he supposed. Even now, they were cuddling with him. Logically, he knew it was at least partially out of necessity. They were reptiles, and the temperature the cell was kept at was too low for their cold-blooded bodies. Al acted as a sort of living furnace for them, keeping them warm.

He certainly didn’t mind, though. Al had always been a person who craved touch, loving any sort of physical affection he could get. Having friends who’d constantly give it to him definitely wasn’t something he’d complain about. He knew they’d noticed his love for their little cuddle sessions, too, which only seemed to encourage them to do it more often. Again, not that Al was complaining.

The three of them separated, sitting up straight as a couple guards entered, food and water in hand. They usually separated to eat before returning to their little cuddle pile to nap.

They wouldn’t get to do that today, though. A loud crash came out of nowhere, followed by the blaring of an alarm and the shouting of the guards. The two in their cage ran out in a panic, not even bothering to close their cell’s door.

Definitely a worrying reaction, but Al couldn’t concern himself with that too much right now. He watched as more and more guards ran by their cell, not a single one noticing that they were no longer locked in. He knew an opportunity when he saw it. This was as good a time as any to take it.

Gesturing to L’ng and Me’i to follow him, he made his way out of the cell and made a run for it.

When M’staeng was pulled out of sleep by the sound of a crash, followed by yelling and an alarm blaring, he wasn’t nearly as panicked as everyone around him. There was only one thing that could be.

H’kye had finally come to fucking murder him. He’d never found the thought so relieving before.

He was proven right no more than two minutes later when he saw H’voc running through the hall, blasting cell doors open.

His subordinate seemed happier than he’d ever been before when he reached his cell and saw who was inside. “Colonel!” He blasted the door open. “Glad to see you didn’t keel over and die! Lieutenant H’kye would’ve been pissed if someone else had gotten to you first!”

“As if,” he scoffed. “I wouldn’t have let anyone else so much as scratch me. I wouldn’t want to disappoint her, after all.”

H’voc’s tail flicked behind him in amusement. “Good to have you back, Colonel.” He turned away from him, returning to his task of blowing up cell doors. M’staeng wished he could help, but he lacked a weapon. He’d just have to make up for it next time.

“Come on, Ed,” he said, tilting his head forward to silently communicate his words, as well. They did that weird thing where they shook their head up and down, indicating they understood.

He did his best to lead them where he’d heard the crashing noise come from earlier. That had to be where his subordinates made their forced entry. Unfortunately, neither one of them had the slightest clue to the layout of the ship, which was making their task a lot harder.

At the very least, they hadn’t encountered too many guards. Most of them were preoccupied with trying to clean up the mess his subordinates were making. They encountered a couple who seemed as though they wanted to try something, but one look at Ed was enough to get them to back down, seeing as they no longer had their usual advantage of numbers.

He skidded to a stop as three figures suddenly came out of a hallway connecting to theirs, narrowly avoiding crashing into them. They weren’t guards, at least. He immediately noted the lack of uniforms. They weren’t the only ones trying to find their way out of this hellhole, it seemed.

Without warning, one of them dashed right past M’staeng, heading straight towards Ed. His fur bristled in alarm and he began preparing mentally for a fight. He didn’t know what their problem was, but like hell he’d let them hurt-

He paused as he heard the same sobbing sounds Ed had made during the eye leaking incident, but this time, there were two distinct sounds. What the hell?

He saw the figure doing the same arm-wrapping thing Ed and him had done earlier, and he wondered how he hadn’t noticed before.

Stars, he was an idiot.

The other person, now that he bothered to look at them, was clearly human, just like Ed. What’s more, if M’staeng’s guess was correct, they seemed to be related, though he wasn’t sure in what way. The new human was a few inches taller than Ed, with shorter hair. Their eyes and hair were golden just like Edward’s, though they were both a shade darker. There were of course plenty of minute differences between them, but all in all, they looked remarkably similar.

Once the two pulled away slightly, M’staeng figured that was as good a time as any to interrupt. “Edward? We really need to go now.” They did that head shaking thing again, said something to the new human in their language, and began trailing after him again, this time with three new people in tow.

They walked through the hallways a bit longer before finally, finally finding H’kye. She was guiding the now free prisoners into escape pods, ensuring they all knew how to operate them and get where they needed to go.

“Well, Colonel, it’s good to see you here. Took you long enough. I was worried we wouldn’t be able to have a little chat about being reckless on missions later.” M’staeng wondered how things ever got to a point where his own subordinates had no qualms about threatening him. He doubted any other commanding officers had to deal with this shit.

“Hey. You four behind M’staeng. Come over here and we can get you set up in escape pods,” she addressed the people behind him.

“No. They’re coming with us,” M’staeng informed her before any of them moved. He hadn’t entirely intended on taking the two non-humans with him as well, but they seemed fairly attached to Ed’s relative and vice versa. He wouldn’t try to separate them. He’d probably throw a fit himself if someone tried to make him leave separately from Ed.

Stars, when the hell had gotten attached to the human? How did that even happen? Most people didn’t just bond with deathworlders, but here he was.

At least the two reptiles behind him proved he wasn’t the only one making friends with deadly beings.

“Oh? Just who are these people, then?”

“Friends. I’ll explain more later.”

“You made friends, sir?” she asked incredulously. His fur bristled at that. “That’s strange. You’re not really the sociable type. To be honest, sir, I didn’t think you knew how to make friends.”

Rude. All his subordinates were so rude to him. He was probably the only officer in the galaxy whose subordinates dared act like that. Because of course he’d be the only one treated like this.

Soon enough, H’kye finished helping everyone board the escape pods and his other subordinates - H’voc, Fa’lmn, F’ry, and Br’da - joined them, along with Hy’ues. Tension he hadn’t even known was there suddenly left his body all at once as everyone he cared about was finally here.

“Come on, we’ve got our own ship to board,” he told them. “I’ll explain who the people with me are later, but for now, let’s just get the hell out of here.”

No one had any objections to that. As he boarded the ship, relief flooded his body. He’d missed the ship that had somehow become his home, missed the people on board it even more.

But finally, his nightmare was over. No more worrying about starving or injured cellmates or anything of the sort. He could finally relax in a way he hadn’t in a long time.

He was finally home, and for once, everything felt right again.

Chapter Text

M’staeng couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this relaxed.

Ed and the other human - who he now knew was named Al - had been taken by H’kye to get the wounds they’d gotten in the fighting ring cleaned and dressed before sending them to wash themselves. They hadn’t been able to clean themselves at all during the time they’d been imprisoned. M’staeng himself had gladly taken the chance to bathe while they were busy with H’kye; he’d missed being clean. Fa’lmn, meanwhile, had been set to the task of taking some of the clothes they had and resizing them to fit the two humans. Their current clothes seemed unsalvageable at this point and they were too small to fit in anything currently on board. They’d need something clean to wear after they had the chance to bathe.

F’ry, having the most expertise with technology out of anyone on board, was set on the task of equipping the on-board translators to understand the humans’ language. It was standard for every ship to have translators on board; while most people learned to speak Galactic Standard at a young age, it never hurt to be prepared just in case.

Of course, the translators didn’t just come with the ability to translate human language. No, F’ry had taken it upon himself to hack into Am’stris’ databases filled with information on humans, including their languages, so he could put that information into the translators. M’staeng hadn’t even known they’d had that information until now.

He found himself filled with both a new level of fear and respect for his youngest subordinate.

It was, of course, very illegal to hack into anything of the government’s. That was a given. Working for the government themselves, one would think M’staeng or one of his other subordinates would stop F’ry and turn him in, but they’d be wrong. M’staeng never had a problem bending or flat-out ignoring laws when it suited him, and he knew his team was the same. Besides, it’s not like they were using the information maliciously. What the government didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

Besides, it’d be nice to finally hold a full conversation with Ed. He really wanted to get to know them. Soon enough he’d be able to, without the language barrier getting in the way. Something in his chest warmed at the thought.

He couldn’t wait.

Edward tied back his still wet hair in its typical braid, relishing the feeling of being clean. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d bathed before now. The bathtub was comically large compared to him, but it got the job done. He hadn’t felt this good in a while.

He was dressed in clothing that had been clearly resized to fit him better. They weren’t perfect, as they hadn’t taken his measurements or anything before he’d been dragged back by the bird-like alien to tend to his wounds, but they fit well enough. They could make more adjustments later, he supposed. He walked out of the bathroom, allowing Al to go in and take his turn to bathe himself.

He walked into what he assumed was some sort of living room. It was filled with furniture that resembled couches and chairs, though quite a bit larger than the ones he was used to. He’d have to actively hoist himself up if he wanted to sit down on them. Stupid fucking aliens and their stupidly large sizes. As if Al needed any more material to tease him with.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by M’staeng. “Hey, Ed. You all done cleaning up, then?” Edward froze, mind blue-screening. M’staeng just spoke in perfect English.

His reply eloquently summed up his thoughts on the matter. “What the fuck.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Oh, I just finished setting up the translator with all the human languages I could find! Never met a species that spoke multiple languages among themselves. But it looks like it’s working!” An alien that reminded him of a giant hamster said to him. Well, if hamsters had four eyes and ears on the sides of their head instead of on top. “It’s nice to meet you! Ed, was it? I’m F’ry!”

What was with these aliens all having names that were impossible to pronounce? One more name like that and he’d start referring to them all by what animals they looked like. He was getting sick of not being able to pronounce anything properly.

“I still need to report back now that we’re off the ship, but afterwards, we’ll try and find your home planet,” M’staeng told him.

Ed did not panic at that, thank you. He was perfectly calm and level-headed. “Hey, wait a minute! One of my friends didn’t get taken with us when we were captured. I think she’s still on board our ship. I’m not going anywhere until we get her!” he protested. No way in hell would he leave Winry behind.

If he was honest, even if she was here, he wasn’t too keen about the idea of going back to Earth. He hadn’t been there since he was eleven and he didn’t intend to change that now. He’d left his planet behind for a reason.

“Well, we could probably manage to find her before I have to report in. A little detour wouldn’t hurt,” M’staeng mused. “I’ll come up with something to tell the higher ups when I return.”

Higher ups? Report in? Was M’staeng in the fucking military? They didn’t look the type, Edward thought. Sure, their teeth and claws were a little intimidating, but that didn’t change the fact that they were basically a giant cat. He wasn’t sure what to think of that.

“It wouldn’t be too much trouble to get footage from the Homn’cli ship that we could use to track her down. I’ll get on that now,” F’ry said to M’staeng, turning to - holy shit, was that a fucking hologram? Holy shit, that’s so cool.

He shook his head, trying to stop his excited internal rambling and focus more on the situation at hand. He was honestly kind of happy with M’staeng’s career choice. It made finding Winry a lot easier. He didn’t know what he’d do if he’d had to go on an escape pod with the others. He’d probably never find her.

No point in dwelling on that thought, though. He was here now, with the people and technology he needed to rescue her. Everything would be fine.

He’d find her soon.

With the necessary footage found and a course set for Ed’s previous ship, there was nothing left for M’staeng to do but wait. Normally, that was something he absolutely hated, but he found he didn’t mind right now. It gave him the chance to interact with his humans.

After introducing the two to his subordinates and Al giving him an introduction to the two reptiles who’d joined, he figured it was an appropriate time to ask some questions and maybe answer some of theirs. Not like they had anything else to do. But what to ask first?

“Ah, you two are related, right?” he asked them. They both gave an affirmative head shake. “In what way?” There. That was a decent enough first question. Easy to answer and gave him some much needed information without the potential of his question being accidentally offensive.

“We’re brothers!” Al responded. They were both male, then. Good to know. It had been weird not knowing Ed’s gender despite knowing him for so long. “Brother’s a year older than me!”

That right there gave him a good follow up question. “How old are you two, anyway?”

“Fifteen. Al’s fourteen.” Ed replied. M’staeng started at that, his brain short-circuiting. They were how old? Maybe they aged differently from every other species he knew of. M’staeng himself was fifty-nine and not even middle aged yet. He’d never heard of a species aging as quickly as them, but he supposed it wasn’t impossible.

He was a little more anxious about his next question. “And, ah…what age do humans become adults?”

Edward leaned into himself, looking reluctant to answer - and that did not make M’staeng feel better, thank you - but Al, though seeming a little hesitant himself, responded for him. “Well, um, legally it’s eighteen in most countries, but our brains don’t fully develop until we’re around twenty-five or so.” M’staeng’s heart stopped at that. His mind was too busy racing to even think about how weird it was that they were legally and biologically adults at different ages.

They were children? The Homn’cli had kidnapped fucking children? And forced them to fight to the death, no less? It was already an awful situation for any adult; he couldn’t even imagine how hard it must’ve been on people so young. He’d hated the Homn’cli before, but he’d never felt such a burning rage towards them until now.

“And your friend…how old is she?”

“Fifteen.” Ed was the one who answered this time, seeming annoyed that they were answering these questions.

M’staeng, on the other hand, was nothing but concerned at this point. Two children had just been rescued from being imprisoned and forced to fight after being held captive for so long, and now there was a third who was potentially on her own, knowing her friends were kidnapped but unsure of what happened to them after.

Looks like M’staeng had a lot of work ahead of him.

Stars, he didn’t know anything about children, let alone ones from a deathworld. But being the adult Edward knew best right now, he supposed it was up to him to take care of him. Since Al’s cellmates were both adolescents as he and his brother were, he figured that left Al in his care, as well.

He’d have to ask Hy’ues how the hell children even worked in the first place. His best friend would mock him endlessly for it, but since he was the only parent on board, M’staeng had no choice but to go to him.

He still had a ton of questions burning in the back of his mind, but he set them aside for now. His mind had stopped working the moment he found out their ages, and he wasn’t sure he’d remember anything else they told him because of it.

“…I’ll be back soon. Feel free to take a look around the ship while I’m gone,” he told them, standing up.

He had to track down Hy’ues and figure out what the fuck to do now.

Chapter Text

It had been a few days since their rescue and everyone had since fallen into a routine.

Ed and Al had been immediately drawn to M’staeng’s collection of books he kept on board, something he was proud of - not many people kept physical copies of books these days, so they were hard to come by. Ed had picked one up, opened it, then put it back down and asked if there were translators for written language. Well, more accurately, he asked, “Can the shit that lets us understand you work for books, too?”, but close enough. It was basically the same thing. Unfortunately for him, since physical writing was a rarity anymore, there was not. M’staeng offered to show him and Al some books on his tablet, which could translate for them, but Ed adamantly refused. “I fucking hate when I can’t feel the pages beneath my fingers. It’s shitty as hell,” he’d said (and stars, did that kid have a mouth. M’staeng couldn’t say he’d expected it at first). Al chided him, but didn’t disagree.

They both had eventually given in and read on his tablet when they were bored enough, but Ed still complained constantly about it, even as he was actively reading. M’staeng had gotten sick of it soon enough, and so decided to teach them how to read and write in Galactic Standard.

They were both fast learners. He’d gathered Ed was smart based on how quickly he’d been picking up the spoken language, but now that he could actually explain stuff instead of just pointing at things and hoping Ed understood, it seemed to be no trouble at all for him. Al was the exact same way. It made M’staeng puff up in pride, something which Hy’ues was unfortunately there to witness and subsequently make fun of him for.

Rude. Everyone was so rude to him. He wondered what he did to deserve this kind of treatment.

He couldn’t be too upset, though. Hy’ues was being a huge help. He’d analyzed the footage F’ry had taken from the Homn’cli ship - it was standard for every ship to record their routes; it was easier to find your way back through empty space that way - and managed to track down where the human ship was then and the route it was likely headed. M’staeng had never been so happy to have a friend who worked in intelligence before.

Hy’ues had set a course for the ship’s autopilot to follow, and that was all they could do for now. M’staeng felt antsy waiting, worrying about the human girl he’d never met, but waiting was all he could do.

After about a week of that, though, M’staeng no longer had to feel so restless. Hy’ues had barged right in in the middle of another reading lesson with Ed and Al to announce they’d found the ship, and H’kye was flying them over to board now. Ed and Al had done that creepy teeth-baring thing they called a “smile” at the news, but this time, M’staeng didn’t have it in him to be even slightly uncomfortable.

Looks like they were about to have a new passenger on board.

Winry had been staying isolated in her room for most of the past month and a half. It wasn’t something she usually did - she enjoyed being around people quite a bit - but Ed and Al’s disappearance had been getting to her.

Ed and Al had been alone on the ship’s bridge when they came. They could hold their own in a fight, but were overwhelmed by numbers. Winry and some other crew members had come racing to the bridge after hearing a crash from that direction followed by shouting, but it had been too late. They’d arrived to the brothers drugged and being dragged out by the aliens. Seemingly intimidated by the suddenly much larger number of humans arriving, the aliens quickly made their retreat, Ed and Al in tow. Winry hadn’t heard from them since.

She didn’t even know if they were alive right now.

She was laying on her bed and fiddling with her wrench, thoughts such as that running through her head, when it happened. There was a crash that reminded her of the one a month and a half ago and the ship jolted around her. She didn’t hesitate this time.

She jumped out of her bed, wrench firmly in hand, and raced straight towards the bridge. It was probably stupid, but in the moment, she didn’t care. She wasn’t going to allow a repeat of last time to happen.

She got there as a giant cat-looking alien boarded the ship. She got into what she hoped was a threatening stance, raising her wrench. She probably should’ve been scared - after all, Ed and Al had been captured, and they were amazing fighters - but she wasn’t. She was filled with a kind of burning, seething rage she’d never felt before. She wasn’t sure whether she was scared or invigorated by it. Maybe a little of both.

The cat took a step forward, which only served to make the girl angrier. “Stay the fuck back!” she shouted. Winry didn’t usually have a mouth like Ed’s, but she didn’t care much about filtering herself in the current moment. “Don’t you dare come any closer or I swear to god I’ll-!”

“Whoa, whoa, calm down, Winry,” a voice said placatingly. She froze, eyes widening. Was that…?

Two figures came out from behind the cat, and Winry felt tears burning in her eyes. She didn’t bother with blinking them back, letting them fall freely as she dropped her wrench and raced towards them. She practically leaped forward, wrapping her arms around them in a hug they quickly returned.

Ed and Al were finally home.

Winry hadn’t needed much convincing to leave the old ship. She’d raced to her room to grab her various supplies for her mechanical work, insisting that was all she needed to bring, before returning to the bridge. She’d returned not too long before some other crew members came in. They were stunned at Ed and Al’s presence, and they protested them leaving again, this time with Winry in tow. Ed found that he didn’t particularly care.

Winry’d been promptly introduced to everyone as soon as she boarded the new ship. She’d asked how they’d all learned English, which was met with F’ry explaining the translators to her. She then asked if they had any extras - they did - before immediately beginning to take it apart at a speed that seemed to scare poor F’ry.

Of course that was what she decided to do as soon as she got on board. She was a gearhead through and through. He’d told her as such, to which she immediately responded by calling him a “stupid alchemy freak.”

Some things never changed, he supposed.

He couldn’t deny that he’d felt much lighter now that she was here, though.

It didn’t last too long, unfortunately.

“We’ve put off returning as long as we could, but we really do have to return now. Don’t worry, though, we’ll do our best to get you all back to your home planet as soon as we can once we’ve reported in,” H’kye told them. Goddamn it. There went his good mood.

He didn’t want to go back to Earth, thank you very much. Al and Winry had expressed the same sentiment to him before, as well, and he doubted that had changed. There had been nothing for them there when they’d left and there wouldn’t be if they returned. How could they even continue life as if it were normal if they went back? They’d been gone since they were eleven (or ten, in Al’s case), for fuck’s sake! He didn’t have the slightest clue what they’d do if they had to go back.

“Do we have to go back?” he asked. He felt his cheeks heat up a bit at the question. He sounded like a sulking child, damn it. He’d deal with the embarrassment, though, if it meant he could stay.

“...Do you not want to go back?” M’staeng asked slowly.

“Fuck no.”

“Brother, be nice!” Al scolded. “…But, um, do we have to go?”

“I…suppose not. But why? Isn’t that why you wanted to bring Winry back in the first place, since you didn’t go back with her on your ship? Besides, I’m sure there are people waiting for you back on your planet,” M’staeng replied.

Ed barked out a sardonic laugh at that. He couldn’t help himself. “Ha! As if! We’ve been on our own for over a decade now!”

M’staeng couldn’t pale because of his dark fur, but Edward could’ve sworn that’s what he did anyway. “None of you even have a parent waiting on you? A guardian of some form?”

“No,” Al said, shaking his head. “Mom died a long time ago and Dad left us. Winry’s parents are gone, too.” So was Granny Pinako - that had been the final straw that pushed them to leave Earth in the first place - but M’staeng didn’t need all those details right now.

“Then of course you can stay,” H’kye said, softening. Fuck, was she gonna start acting all weird around them too? It was bad enough that M’staeng had been doing that ever since he’d first sat them down and questioned them. He didn’t need anyone else doing it, too.

He couldn’t complain about her allowing them to stay, though.

“I’m fine with that, as well, but what are we going to do about the legal stuff?” M’staeng questioned. “They need documents, and though we could easily apply to get them since they’re from an uncontacted species, the higher ups will step in as soon as they catch wind of them being humans. And we can’t just expect them to live in hiding their whole lives.”

“We won’t have to deal with all that,” she replied, seeming almost amused. “Have you forgotten, Colonel? Gru’mn’s my grandfather. He wouldn’t mind if we went directly to him, and no one can stop us if he gives us the go-ahead.”

“Of course. I can’t believe I forgot,” the cat said, mostly to himself.

“Uh, hello? ” Ed piped up. “Who the fuck is Grumman?”

“Gru’mn,” M’staeng automatically corrected, causing Ed to scowl. “He’s the leader of Am’stris. Normally we wouldn’t be able to see him directly, especially not on such short notice, but he and H’kye are family.” Shit, they were lucky, then. Their lives would be a lot harder if it weren’t for H’kye.

“Alright, then. I’ll set course back to Am’stris, then. In the meantime, you should show Winry to her room,” she told M’staeng before taking her leave. M’staeng gestured for Winry to follow as he, too, made his exit. She seemed a bit disappointed that she had to stop fiddling with the translator that was now in pieces, but followed anyway. 

Ed let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He had been fairly anxious at the thought that after all this time, they’d be forced to go back home. But they weren’t. Shit, they were about to legally be citizens of an alien nation! A childish part of him couldn’t help but feel a bit giddy at the thought.

He’d been through hell and back, but now, things were finally working out for him.

Chapter Text

M’staeng had never felt so antsy waiting to return to Am’stris before. H’kye had spoken with her grandfather, who agreed to meet with them directly. As soon as they’d reported in, they could head over to see him. He was more than a little apprehensive.

He knew his reason for visiting was honestly crazy. What was he even supposed to say? “Hi, yes, I’ve got three deathworlders who need documents. I’d also like guardianship of them. I promise I’m not crazy and they’re not as violent as you’d think.” Gru’mn may have been known for his eccentricity, but even that had to be crossing a line he wouldn’t.

He’d have to hope bringing H’kye along would be enough to convince him.

They reported in, leaving the three humans on the ship while doing so before returning for them. The tension was palpable. This was their one shot at giving these humans a normal life. M’staeng wasn’t sure what he’d do if Gru’mn refused to hear them out. It wasn’t like they had any other option, though. He and H’kye headed out with the three humans and a translator (so the humans could understand what was going on) in tow, leaving the rest of his crew to wait anxiously on the ship.

He and H’kye were recognized immediately by the guards and let in to see Gru’mn. He must’ve already informed his guards he was expecting visitors. Not that most people would be too suspicious of him or H’kye. The guards did eye the humans warily, though, even though they likely didn’t know what they were.

M’staeng took a deep breath as he stood outside Gru’mn’s office, trying to ease the anxiousness within him, before knocking firmly on the door and stepping inside.

“M’staeng! H’kye! It’s good to see you two again!” he greeted jovially. He paused as he noticed the three humans trailing in behind them, no doubt immediately recognizing what they were. He shot M’staeng a questioning glance, but didn’t say anything. This was gonna be a fun conversation.

“So I suppose these three are what you wanted to see me about, hm?” he asked, though it wasn’t really a question. The answer was obvious.

“Yes, sir. They need documents, being from an uncontacted species. I know it’s unusual to go to you directly for that, but…” M’staeng trailed off, no clarification needed for what he was trying to say.

“Yes, I can certainly see why you’d come to me for that. And you believe that’s a good idea?” It was a genuine question, voice not scathing in the slightest, but M’staeng couldn’t help but wilt a little at it. Yes, of course it was; he trusted them. But how could he even begin to explain why?

Fortunately, H’kye came to his rescue. “Sir, one of them was kept in the same cell as M’staeng when he was imprisoned on the Homn’cli ship. Even as the Homn’cli tried to encourage him to attack the Colonel by starving him, he never so much as scratched him. He even aided M’staeng in his escape from the ship. The other two, though they’ve been around us less, have proven to be just as reliable. There’s no reason to treat them as a threat.”

“Well, then, I trust your judgment. Let’s hope you’re right!” Gru’mn began typing on his computer, presumably preparing the documents.

M’staeng blinked in surprise. He wasn’t entirely sure how to react. He’d hoped Gru’mn would come around, but he hadn’t expected him to give in so easily. It was much easier than he’d thought it’d be. He always has been hard to predict, M’staeng supposed.

“Sir, one more thing,” M’staeng cut in. Gru’mn looked up from his computer expectantly. “I’d like guardianship of these three, as well.” He noted Edward whipping his head around and staring at him in wide-eyed shock from the corner of his eyes, but he ignored him. Someone would have to act as their guardian, no matter how much they might dislike it. M’staeng wasn’t going to leave a bunch of children to take care of themselves.

“Oh? These three aren’t adults, then?” Gru’mn remarked in surprise. “I suppose that explains their size.”

Al and Winry looked worried as soon as the words left Gru’mn’s mouth, and Edward’s face reddened. That was new. He hadn’t seen any of them do that before. What did it-?

“Who the hell are you calling so small he could be crushed like an ant?” Edward yelled. Al and Winry were on either side of him, holding him back as he thrashed around.

M’staeng blinked, unable to comprehend what was going on. What the fuck. What the hell is he doing?

“Brother, no one said anything like that. Calm down!” Al told him, exasperated. He and Winry seemed used to this behavior from him. 

The thought concerned M’staeng even more. Would he have to put up with this regularly?

Though any normal person would’ve been frightened at a deathworlder lunging at them and shouting, Gru’mn only laughed in amusement. “Well, he’s a lively one, isn’t he?”

“We’re really sorry about this,” Winry apologized as she and Al practically shoved Edward back into his chair, where he sulked. “He’s really sensitive about his height. He tends to overreact whenever someone mentions it. Please ignore him.”

“I’m not overreacting,” Edward muttered angrily, almost too quiet to hear. “And I’m not sensitive. There’s nothing to be sensitive about, damn it. I’m normal height!”

“Shut up, Ed!” Winry hissed in his ear. “This is not the place for you to be doing this!”

Gru’mn waved her concerns off. “Ah, it’s not an issue! If anything, he’s made my day much more exciting!”

At least Gru’mn was entertained. That was good for them. M’staeng would be lying if he said he wasn’t entertained, too. His little outburst was honestly fucking hilarious. If that was the way Edward usually reacted when his height was mentioned, he’d have to bring it up more often.

“Now, then, I’ll need you all to answer some questions so I can fill all these forms out,” Gru’mn continued, returning everyone’s focus to the task at hand.

It looked like M’staeng would have the chance to tease Ed more. They were finally going to have actual documents. He felt something warm bloom in his chest at the thought. 

He would finally have custody of his humans.

Chapter Text

“Edward! Get your ass back here and let me see your automail!” Winry shouted, voice reverberating through the ship.

“It’s fine, Winry! Get your greasy hands away from me!” Ed returned, just as loud.

M’staeng watched as Ed ran by, Winry following after. Ed may have been faster, but the girl was persistent. His automail arm hung limply at his side, not moving as his flesh arm was.

Ah. He was resisting repairs again. He did that a lot. M’staeng didn’t really understand why, but the scene before him had become a typical one over the past six months.

Six months. It had been six months since he’d gotten guardianship of the three. It was hard to believe that that much time had passed. If you’d asked M’staeng a year ago if he ever wanted to be a parent, he’d have laughed in your face. If you’d brought up him being a parent to three deathworlders, he would’ve assumed you were absolutely insane. After all, in what world would that ever happen?

And yet it did. Somehow, he found that he didn’t mind.

No, if he was honest, he enjoyed it. At some point, he found himself graduating from being just a legal guardian to an actual parent to the three humans. It felt weirdly right.

He placed himself in front of Ed as he came running by, forcing the boy to stop before crashing into him. “Edward,” he sighed. “Let Winry take care of your automail.”

“My arm is fine! I don’t need her to take care of anything!” he protested. The fact that he was clearly unable to move his right arm proved otherwise.

How the hell did he even manage to break it this time? He’d forced his way onto missions M’staeng and his team had been on before despite M’staeng’s very clear instructions not to come with them, so broken automail was nothing new. It had been a while since their last field mission, though, so M’staeng had no idea how he managed to break his arm so badly this time.

Winry had caught up in the time M’staeng had stopped Ed, firmly gripping his left arm. “Edward. Sit your ass down and let me do my work,” the girl bit out. Edward rolled his eyes and groaned exaggeratedly, but did what he was told.

M’staeng flicked his tail in amusement at the boy’s antics. “Don’t be dramatic, Ed. If Winry didn’t kill you for avoiding repairs, H’kye definitely would.” Ed sighed, but his acceptance of that fact was clear on his face.

H’kye had become rather doting towards the humans over the past year, in her own intimidating way. Like somehow managing to scare the shit out of Edward, a fucking deathworlder who could no doubt rip her in half if he wanted to, into taking care of himself. Including by scaring him into allowing Winry to maintain his automail.

She’d also decided she was going to be in charge of their education. M’staeng may have been their guardian, but H’kye insisted she’d do a better job teaching them than he ever could. His fur had bristled in annoyance at the comment, but he knew she was right. He had zero clue how to teach children anything.

L’ng and Me’i had at some point become permanent fixtures on the ship, as well. They had legal guardians already, but from what M’staeng had gathered, they’d half expected the two to die at some point before they reached adulthood, anyway. 

The two were apparently part of the royal family of X’ng, which had shocked M’staeng. Of course, he’d expected that that would mean people would be all the more eager to try and bring the home. He was wrong. It was apparently a sort of free-for-all between the different branches of the Emperor’s family, each member vying to become the next emperor. It wasn’t uncommon for the potential heirs to mysteriously “disappear,” never to be seen again. The members of their respective branches likely assumed they were both long dead.

Honestly, even if they wanted to return, M’staeng didn’t think he’d be able to let them after hearing that. No way in hell would he let them go back after surviving the Homn’cli just to be murdered by one of their siblings. That was not a chance M’staeng was willing to take.

Fortunately, they’d been more than willing to stay. They were attached to Al and had been reluctant to leave him. M’staeng had offered to let them stay on the ship (or rather, H’kye offered and gave M’staeng a death glare that just dared him to try and contradict her) and they eagerly accepted. 

From the bits and pieces of their previous lives that he’d heard, they hadn’t been treated too well before, anyway, even by their own branches of family. They had been groomed to be one day rule X’ng, and that was all their families had cared about. The people who should’ve loved and cared for them only cared about what they stood to gain from them. M’staeng was more than happy to offer them refuge from that situation.

Ed jumped a bit, clearly in pain from whatever it was Winry was doing. “Shit! Be more careful, Gearhead!” he protested.

Winry shot him a glare. “I don’t wanna hear it, Alchemy Freak! You’re the one who broke your automail in the first place! I don’t even know how you managed to screw it up so badly this time!”

Ed stuck his tongue out childishly, but didn’t protest anymore.

Winry made her final adjustments on his arm before pulling back, beginning to pack her tools away. “There you go, you big baby. It’s all done now.”

Ed tentatively tested his arm again. It moved just as well as his flesh one. He grinned, a gesture M’staeng still found a bit strange after all this time but ultimately had grown used to. “Hey, it’s good as new! Thanks a lot, Win!”

He grabbed the coat and gloves he normally wore off the couch (because of course he’d left them there. He hadn’t even been wearing them when Winry was chasing him. He liked to leave his clothes everywhere, something that didn’t change no matter how much M’staeng scolded him) and left the room, presumably to go find Al.

Winry finished cleaning up her tools before she, too, left the room. Probably to spend time with H’kye. The two had grown very close over the past six months. The girl spent a ridiculous amount of time with her. It scared M’staeng a little, if he were honest. They were both a force to be reckoned with on their own; he really didn’t want to see what they could do together.

He was glad everyone got along so well, though. He knew this situation had been strange for the humans at first, likely still was, but they were adjusting quite well. He wasn’t sure how well they’d be doing if they hadn’t managed to bond as much with M’staeng and his team as they had.

Everyone on board had grown attached to the young humans, not just M’staeng and H’kye. Though the rest of his team hadn’t grown as close to them as the two of them had, they still had bonded quite a bit. It wasn’t uncommon to see H’voc trying to teach them how to shoot or Winry learning about and taking apart technology she never would’ve gotten to on her home planet with F’ry.

M’staeng always felt his chest grow warm and something flutter in his stomach when he thought about how close everyone was. They were all like a family; a strange, mismatched family, but a family nevertheless. M’staeng had never imagined things would turn out like this, but he was happy.

He wouldn’t want things any other way.