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There are some beautiful areas on Pandora now. Hyperion technology has brought forests and jungles and crystal blue lakes to the barren planet. Glaciers warmed, deserts bloomed. From Pandora to Paradise.
But that is not the only way Hyperion played God. Among the nutrient-rich grasses and vegetables creatures feast and frolic. Not quite animals, no longer exactly human. Once-sharp human canines are worn down with the grinding of plants that better suit their new appetites. Ears duplicated in new shapes and sizes, covered in soft fur and twitching at each sound that their human ears fail to pick up. Human concerns of complex work and wealth-dictated status are gone. The only stress left is survival, which comes and goes depending on the presence of predators in the moment.
Unknown to the various species of Bestials gallivanting about in the flora, this is one such moment.
Handsome Jack crouches nearby behind the cover of a thick tree trunk. If any of those dumb herbivores had a decently-modified nose they would have noticed him by now. He can certainly smell them. His mouth waters and he runs his tongue over his sharp teeth, prodding a little until he dislodges a scrap of his breakfast.
He does not wait there too long. Just long enough to check that he is the only predator in the vicinity. It isn't that he couldn't take any other aggressor, of course. That just isn't the goal this morning. As time goes by he finds it increasingly difficult to focus on plans and aims. His wolf side lives more in the moment and is easily distracted. The last thing he wants is to be derailed by a fight with another predatory creature and to go home victorious but empty-handed.
Jack narrows his mismatched eyes and launches himself out of his hiding place. A split-second after the creatures ahead of him scream and a split-second later he is among them. Since the experiments he has only grown stronger. It is nothing to him to grab a dainty neck and twist. The snap is drowned out by the shrieking and fleeing of weaker Bestials, but Jack feels it satisfying in his palm. His sharp claws rake bloody trails along the corpse's neck as he flings it down.
Looking around, breathing hard from the sudden exertion, he can see the others have all fled. He looks again at his scrawny kill. It's one of the bunny types, fluffy brown ears and soft fur. For a moment he feels weird about that. He can't take it home, not unless he wants an argument with his mate. He'll have to eat some here. It's a skinny thing, but most of the bunnies tend to be. No doubt one will develop a mutation sooner or later to put some fat on their bones. If a winter ever comes to the climate-manipulated planet they'll probably be the winners in the survival race. Until then though, everyone knows the bunnies were made to adhere to a freak's vision of socially-dictated beauty. Slender, fluffy, crammed into bizarre lingerie and enhanced with enough pheromones to stop a truck.
Not enough to stop Jack though. Not this one, at least.
If it had been his mission to feed himself, this would have been a failure. Bunnies are a snack at best. But Jack isn't here to eat. He is here for what they were eating. He shrugs off his coat, specifically brought for this purpose, and settles down in the vegetables that the herbivores were all gnawing on. It all looks like crap, but he plucks as much as he can and bundles it all up in his coat, using the sleeves as handles. He grabs his dead bunny by the ankle and drags it along the ground as he looks for somewhere to make a fire. He can stomach raw meat, but why should he? He isn't an animal. Not totally. Not yet.
Some time later he returns home with his loot of vegetables and the bunny bits picked clean from his teeth. 'Home' is part-cave, part-warren, a rocky entrance into the mountainside that leads underground. It looks like it was once a mine, but all deeper passages have long been blocked and disused. All that matters now is that it is dry, warm and big enough that Jack doesn't feel like he's slumming it in the wild.
He makes his way down to the deepest part where the only light comes from dimly-glowing mushrooms. The vague purple light of them makes him wonder if this mine still has eridium in the rocks. It's an idle thought. Eridium isn't much use to a half-man, half-wolf trapped on Pandora.
Curled up in a pile of clothes and blankets lies his mate. Rhys' scent fills the room and Jack inhales deeply through his nose, holds the sweet air in his lungs as long as possible before letting it go. He creeps over silently, the perfect predator, then puts his makeshift sack of vegetables down by the sleeping bunny.
Rhys' long and fluffy ears twitch when Jack crawls onto the bedding beside him. His human ears don't do anything other than sit mundane at the sides of his head. Redundant like Jack's after the addition of more sensitive auditory tools. After the brisk chill in the air outside, Rhys' skin is wonderfully warm to the touch. Except for his cybernetic arm, of course. One of his lovely little tricks that the other bunnies don't have. Rhys was a willing Hyperion test subject long before the final stages of Project Eden, which had started with modifications to this world and ended with modifications to its new population.
Jack checks the cybernetic arm for any dirt or damage. Rhys worries about the thing all the time, but Jack can normally nip that in the bud by reminding him that Hyperion means Handsome Jack and Handsome Jack means quality. Even now that sort of propaganda carries weight with devoted little Rhysie, even as Hyperion begins to mean nothing more than the rusting remains of Helios slowly sinking into the marshland a few miles away.
The neural port on Rhys' head seems fine as well, though Jack licks his thumb and very carefully wipes a smudge off of the metal. These little bits of metal connected up through Rhys' body are responsible for their freedom. If not for Rhys' extra modifications, the pair of them would probably still be in some cage somewhere, experimented on and tortured.
Sometimes when he thinks about the escape Jack can still taste the blood in his mouth.
Feeling weary, he lies down beside his bunny and pulls his warm and sleeping mate into an embrace. The movement makes Rhys stir and one of his fluffy ears flick at Jack's face before he lifts his head to look at him. His dopey smile is interrupted by his sudden yawn, then he wriggles his nose in a manner he claims he never did before the experiments. Jack hadn't known him then. It wasn't that they had lived in different worlds, more that Jack ruled the one Rhys lived in.
But that was before.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Jack replies, running a finger gently up Rhys' pale, fluffy ear just to watch him shiver. “You're lucky it's me creeping in when you're sleeping. You need to be more alert, babe.”
“You went out? And left me sleeping?”
Rhys frowns at him as if the idea is bizarre and unfathomable. It shouldn't be, Jack tends to wander. Jack puts a hand against his young mate's forehead. Much cooler now, thankfully. Not that they hadn't had fun, but these things had to run their course.
“Well it seemed like your heat was abating, pumpkin. I wanted to get you something to eat once you were up and coherent again.”
Jack nods towards the pile of veg and Rhys twists in his arms to see it. His stomach rumbles on cue.
“My hero.” His cybernetic arm reaches out and snatches up a carrot and he snuggles back into Jack's embrace as he crunches at it. Jack lets his fingers dance up and down the back of Rhys' ridiculous corset. His claws snag at the material every so often, but that doesn't bother him.
“Dunno why you keep wearing this thing. I could murder up a new wardrobe for ya.”
His bunny boy shrugs, chewing slow, still sleepy. After a little while the carrot slips from his grip and he nuzzles under Jack's chin. One of his long legs – still clad in the soft stockings from the labs – lifts to drape around Jack's hips. It seems there's still some heat left in him and Rhys whines pitifully when Jack is slow to respond.
“Alright, alright.” Jack nudges him onto his back and unzips himself. “Don't worry, babe. I got ya.”
It's a delicate balance to manage, making love to Rhys in a heat. Animal hormones and altered brain chemistry make things dangerous. Rhys' hormones drive him to want and need, harder and more. Jack's hormones are in full agreement. But when one of them has been physically manipulated for strength and bloodlust, they can't risk doing what their bodies insist on. Usually Rhys is the level-headed one, but those responsible for turning people into packages of sex and fluff had no interest in letting them master their emotions all the time. Rhys has experienced one of these lust-saturated periods of mania every thirty days since the experiments.
If he could, Jack would stitch all those scientists' heads back on and tear them off all over again.
“Sssh, it's okay. I'll make it better.”
When Rhys comes he is clinging to Jack with an almost painful grip, sobbing helplessly.
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ECHO Log
Dr Alden's Private Record
“Something doesn't seem right here.
Ha, listen to me, as if that's some big surprise. Something not right with Hyperion. Can't imagine many people would be surprised about that. We're founded on stuff that's not right. I mean, we're a weapons manufacturer so I suppose I've got no call to be naïve.
But this project isn't taking the direction I expected. I know I'm just a kid to the senior scientists around here, but I'm not stupid. They wouldn't have sent me down to this hellhole if I were. I'm learning like I'm meant to, asking the right questions and putting up with the way they talk down to me, but... something stinks here.
We're adapting ordinary people to survive in the extraordinary landscape of Pandora. I'm seeing amazing things. There's a guy here whose balance has been amplified to the point that he can stand on one toe on a wire and dance. Something from some kind of goat? I don't know what that is, all the gene-stock came from the archives, reconstructed from some of the old homeworlds. There's a girl with claws and a guy who can smell what you had for breakfast when you walk in the room. They're all volunteers or people looking to clear some debts, but soon we'll be ready to roll these developments out to everyone. The progress has been incredible.
It's just some of the work I have misgivings with. Some of it, uh... I have trouble understanding its purpose. There's a young man here. He's been through Hyperion tests before – cybernetics. Got himself one of those robo-arms along with an ECHO eye and some sort of neural port. It's all pretty impressive. I'd figure with those adaptations the team would want to branch out into a species known for communication peculiarities or something. Or maybe even a pack or hive creature, see if they could repurpose the ECHO connections to form a link with other Bestials.
That's what we're calling them. Bestials. I'd have expected something a little more uplifted, but I don't get to make those decisions.
What they've actually done with this guy – Rhys, his name is – what they've done is take some... some herbivore, a dumb little fucker, and they've worked on integrating its hormones and appetites into Rhys. He's totally off meat, just nibbles at salads. I don't know if he's going to get the nutrition he needs. And he's twitchy. I mean, just in the couple months I've been here I've noticed the change. He's paranoid. Well, I'd call it paranoia in a human. I guess in an animal that's the only non-predator for a couple miles, it's probably common sense. The creepy thing is that the others seem to smell it. They keep growling and pawing at the wall between the cells.
Dr Mendez is pretty happy with the results though. I'm trying to find out more without asking him too many questions. This is a good career move for me, I can't jeopardise it. I just don't understand the purpose of this one and weirdly, it's this one that Mendez is wanting to roll out first. He's already sent up to Helios for more samples. I overheard him sending the message this morning.
He asked for only the prettiest subjects.”
/-/
The world flies past beautifully, too fast to hurt them. Rhys stands in the passenger seat of the vehicle and smiles at the feeling of the wind fluffing up his long ears. He looks back and is surprised that their cave is already out of sight.
“Will you remember the way back?” He calls down to Jack.
“Huh?”
Rhys drops back down into his seat so that the wind cannot steal his voice. “Will you remember the way back?”
Jack glances at him, one eye blue, the other whitened and unseeing under his scar. He grins, showing off his sharp fangs. “Of course I will, Rhysie.”
That reassures him and he relaxes back into his seat, watching the fields zip past under their wheels and looking at the mountains in the distance.
“And if I don't, well, we'll get a new cave. Maybe not even a cave. Maybe we'll make a tree house or something. You want a tree house?”
“I don't know how to make a tree house and I doubt you do.”
“Ouch kitten, words hurt, you know.”
He rolls his eyes. Jack has a hundred pet names for him, each more ludicrous than the last. Rhys acts like they bother him because he doesn't want to give Jack any idea of how much he loves them. He gets the feeling the man knows anyway, with the way he sometimes weaponises them, purring 'cupcake' or 'baby' into the back of Rhys' neck to get his way on something.
Like today, for example. While Rhys might be enjoying the adventure for the moment, he hasn't let go of the misgivings he felt when Jack strode into the cave and triumphantly told Rhys he had found a car. Jack isn't the sort of man who can sit still for any length of time and his explorations take him further away from the cave every day. Sometimes he doesn't return until the day after, leaving Rhys worrying the whole night through. Jack always makes light of his worries - “Aww, pumpkin. I wouldn't leave you behind!” - and he had done so again when Rhys had expressed uncertainty about this adventure.
“Are we just going to drive until this thing falls apart?”
“If it falls apart we'll put it back together.”
Rhys runs a hand over the dashboard. This is a nice vehicle and he doubts it was made on Pandora. No doubt it is one of many machines to be flung free from Helios as it careened into the planet. As he thinks about it, he notices a little 'H' indent in the leather interior of the door. Definitely Hyperion make, which means there is probably a high-tech computer on board powering all the flickering displays behind Jack's steering wheel. Probably fail-safes to prevent tampering, too.
“You think we can?”
“Of course we can,” Jack said, his voice holding a slight snarl of irritation. “You've got your ECHO eye and your arm and I bet we'll find a connector for your neural port soon. Don't worry, I'll do all the heavy lifting.” Jack chuckled and reached out to squeeze Rhys' thigh. “Can't let my little bunny strain himself now, can I?”
It feels somehow forced and Rhys wonders if he is missing something. Jack is certainly driving at speed for someone with nowhere to go.
“So... are we going anywhere in particular?”
“Nope,” Jack says, grinning widely.
“It's past midday.”
As much as he would like to pretend he could tell by the passing of the sun, truthfully his ECHO eye was set to Pandora time when he was first brought to the laboratory.
Jack just shrugs.
“We won't get back before sundown.”
“What's so special about sundown? You scared of night time predators? Don't insult me, I'm the most badass predator out here.”
“Just thinking it'll be hard to find the way back to the cave in the dark.”
“I have excellent night vision.”
That much is true. Different experimental modifications were performed according to themes inspired by extinct animal types from old home-worlds. When Handsome Jack himself decided he liked the way things were going, he demanded to be signed up for the best and most-tested modifications. They had called it the Wolf combination and night vision was only one of many benefits bestowed on him. Strong, fast, claws and fangs, hunger for meat and a propensity to roam.
“We're not going back, are we?”
“Did you leave behind something you needed?”
“No.”
Rhys had liked the cave and he had thought Jack did too. It was roomy and warm enough and something about the eridium seemed to put off trespassers. Not just that, but it was theirs. Rhys went through enough heats there that they had thoroughly scented the place, even to Rhys' weak nose. It had felt like home.
“So what's the problem?” Jack asks, terse and ready for argument.
“There isn't one.”
He curls up in the seat and closes his eyes. If Jack wants to move on, then Rhys will follow. Just like he did in the laboratory when everything fell apart.
The car slows a little and he hears movement from Jack's seat before warm material drapes over him.
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ECHO Log
Dr Alden's Private Record
“Dr Mendez is a fucking creep. I don't like saying that. I wrote my thesis on his work. If this ECHO ever gets listened to, I'm out of here. I'll be cleaning labs back on Helios for the rest of my life.
On the up side, I have more context on the uh, 'bunny' issue. See, 'bunny' is a term for the species they're using to make the herbivores. They've got a lot more in the pipeline now and they're soon going to be playing around with other non-predator species. Well, I say 'they'. We. We are going to be making more herbivore Bestials because I thought this insane project would benefit my career. It still could, in theory, if the project wasn't being run by horny madmen.
They're using the subjects. I mean... using them. I mean... they're fucking them. Okay, well, in the circumstances... [sigh] I guess they're raping them. The hormonal manipulations have led to some strange developments. Some of the subjects go through a sort of animalistic heat cycle. Mendez has taken a shine to Rhys, the one I mentioned with the cybernetics. They're talking about pitching the 'bunny' test group as a separate project, a more... recreational sort of thing for Helios.
I... I've done a lot of stuff for Hyperion but... I mean, I've probably got people killed, you know? But... I don't want to be part of Project Sex Slave. I really don't. It makes me a little sick in my mouth. I mean, my mom sends through the occasional ECHO that gets relayed to me down here and she thinks I'm doing something good. I'd hoped when I first came down here that I was. Helping people survive Pandora isn't a bad project. And some of the progress they've made is astounding. All of this, it's groundbreaking, mind-blowing stuff. I'm starting to think there are no limits on the ways we could manipulate the human body.
Mendez is cheapening it. Not just him but any of them who use the subjects. They're ruining it for all of us, making it all something sordid. But they'll have to straighten up their act soon.
Handsome Jack is coming to see what we've got. God, I hope he's impressed. I'm too young to die.”
/-/
There are plenty of herbs and junk growing around the new area Jack has settled them in. Plenty of leaves to scrub over his teeth, to crush into rainwater and swill around his mouth until the taste of blood is gone. He misses it when it's not there though. He's been a violent motherfucker for a while, but fetishising the coppery feel on his tongue is new. There's probably a word for it. Some fancy old term for bloodlust to make it sound scientific.
That doesn't matter though. What matters is that he always scrubs his mouth out post-kill because if he doesn't...
“Blergh!” Rhys twists away almost violently, his narrow hips wrenching away from Jack's loose grip. He spits on the floor a few times before gagging. Gags, retches, then after a few false alarms, throws up all over the floor.
Jack sighs and reaches out to rub his back. “Better out than in.” That's the saying, right?
“Exactly! So why do you keep putting it in?!”
As if there's any way to take that question seriously. Jack cackles while Rhys rubs a hand over his mouth and scowls.
“It's not funny, you know what I mean. You keep eating... people.”
“What do you expect me to eat?”
Rhys arches his eyebrows and nods towards the vegetable horde. Jack wonders, not for the first time, about trying to set up some sort of garden. Then they could grow Rhys' diet. They wouldn't have to keep moving on. Pandora's new climate isn't quite up to the task of sustaining its new population with its specific dietary needs. Perhaps if they had given the terraforming more time to take...
“I don't like that shit.”
“So you'd rather rip someone's skin off with your teeth than crunch a carrot?” Jack's stomach rumbles loud enough for Rhys to glare at it. “Tell me that wasn't a biological response to the thought of ripping someone's skin off.”
He can only shrug.
“That's so disgusting.”
“Get that prissy look off your face, princess. I can't control what they did to me. I was pretty rough with my appetites before they went honing my killer instinct.”
“You admit I'm right then. About what they've done.”
“Oh fuck, not this again.”
Jack gets up from the makeshift bed of stolen clothes and straw and stomps around their new... nest? Den? It's a nook deep in some hedges, sheltered by trees that have grown into each other. And not naturally, over decades. These trees were part of the accelerated growth process. They were sped into each other like race cars and they have the trauma twisted into their trunks to show for it. They're not the only ones.
“Well it's one or the other,” Rhys continues, undeterred by Jack's mood. “Either everything's fine and the worst is over, in which case I'm still me and you're still you and we're still human. If that's what you think then you have total control and you can choose what to eat and how to behave. If you're saying you can't, then...”
Rhys trails off. Considering how doggedly he pursues the subject he sure hates voicing the grim conclusion to his theory.
“We're not animals,” Jack says firmly. “They enhanced us. They didn't take anything away that we couldn't afford to lose. Helios, Hyperion, all of that was just glitter on top. They didn't take anything that matters. I'm me. You're you. We're people.”
“You're eating other people.”
“There are no animals anymore, Rhys! We killed 'em all and took their homes! What the fuck am I supposed to eat?”
Again Rhys' gaze flicks over to the vegetable pile. The fucking vegetables again. Jack storms over and grabs a green ball of leaves and dirt. He looks at it for a moment before hurling it at Rhys' head. Rhys shrieks and ducks, the lettuce or cabbage or whatever it is clipping his head and bouncing away.
“I get this crap in for you. You're the one who eats this shit. I can't.”
Still cringing away as if expecting another lobbed vegetable, Rhys peers out from behind his raised arms. “Why not?”
“It just doesn't...” He can't explain it. He just knows somehow that it won't suffice. It doesn't even look like food to him.
“Could you try? Please? I'm tired of tasting blood in your mouth and wondering if it's someone I knew. I'm sure you're not eating other predators. Just...” Just the cute and fluffy Bestials like Rhys. Yeah. No wonder the kid feels uncomfortable.
Rhys begs so prettily. That, with the reproach in his eyes, leads Jack to grab a carrot from the pile and saunter over. “And what do I get out of this?”
The sight of Rhys' pert little bottom when he turns onto his hands and knees makes it easy to crunch down the carrot at speed. Once it's out of the way Jack lunges forward to the bed, toys with the tuft of fluff grafted on at the bottom of Rhys' spine.
It's nice to screw without the urgency of Rhys' hormones. When Rhys gets desperate and breathless this time Jack knows its thanks to him, not those fucking experiments that left him mindless once a month.
They rut late into the night then Jack curls around his wrecked mate.
He wakes drooling, worrying at Rhys' neck with his fangs, lapping at the salt of his skin greedily. Starving.
A fang catches. Rhys flinches away with a whimper and stirs. Jack sits bolt upright, eyes fixed on the bead of blood welling up in the scratch. Not an injury by any stretch of the imagination, not nearly as rough as Rhys likes it, but this is different. This isn't the right kind of hunger.
Jack stumbles from the bed and ignores Rhys' sleepy call of his name.
He goes out into the night. Not a great time to find prey, but luck is his lady tonight. A little ball of fluff curls protectively around a tender cub at the base of a tree not far from where Rhys and Jack have been sleeping. They don't wake up until it's too late.
Even in the dark, Jack finds some strong leaves to scrub his teeth with before returning to Rhys.
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ECHO Log
Dr Alden's Private Record
“I've come to the conclusion that I work with the criminally insane. You might say that's no surprise, given my employer. I can tolerate people being ejected into space over one man's temper, or being assassinated for the sake of a little career boost. But the science, man, I thought that was sacrosanct. I've seen idiots without control groups and I've seen dangerous catalysts used to meet deadlines. Now...Now they're breeding.
At first it was just the 'bunnies', the ones safe to leave locked up together. Over time we've had to double up on the cells as we've got more test subjects. Sometimes the Bestials get a little friendly.
We've finished up the tests and the offspring's viable. It's also growing quicker than it should, quicker than a human child. These idiots didn't place any gene-limiters or destruct sequences on the original subjects. That's such basic stuff that I can't help but feel it was done on purpose. I know Mendez plans to tell Handsome Jack it was done on purpose. They're falsifying a data trail for a breeding program to pretend it was part of the plan from the start.
I know it can probably only help. The goal is to survive Pandora, after all. Breeding is a major part of survival. I just feel like this experiment is supposed to educate and prepare us in a controlled way, but none of the controls are there. What we're doing here is already changing lives.
But for better or worse?”
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Rhys wakes with his heart racing. For a moment he is in a grey concrete cell, fever-mad and freezing all at once. He wonders where his captors are, can't remember being fed, can remember cold fingers bruising his skin with a greedy grip.
A cold drop of water hits his cheek. He blinks up at the ceiling of branches and leaves. They're lit up by the dim morning light beyond. Despite the way they are layered and entwined, occasionally they let through a raindrop. The pitter-patter beyond is incredibly soothing, as relaxing for Rhys as Jack's breathing, slow and deep beside him. His big bad wolf has a strong arm around Rhys' body, clutching him close.
For a while Rhys is content to lie there and let his nerves settle, but as much as he would like to curl into Jack and close his eyes he is definitely not getting back to sleep. Not after that nightmare. He's used to them these days. Time doesn't seem to be doing anything to make the memories fade. He worries sometimes that they're getting worse, the trauma increasing as his brain readjusts to the frantic fight or flight reactions of a bunny. He's always so damn nervous now, it drives him crazy. He wouldn't survive a day on Helios being this twitchy.
Just as well it's all gone.
When he lifts Jack's arm and wriggles away, his lover growls in his sleep and clenches his fist in thin air as if trying to grab something. Rhys crouches down low and nuzzles his nose, presses a little kiss to his mouth.
“Just going to get something to eat.”
Jack grunts and relaxes back onto the bed that they made from all the fabrics they hoarded. Sleeping on the lab coats probably doesn't help alleviate those pesky memories, but neither of them are fans of the forest floor. Not yet, anyway.
The rain is pleasant on Rhys' skin once he has crawled out of their new home. It doesn't feel quite as secure as the cave, but the location is an improvement. There's a field nearby that's practically overflowing with edible fauna. That draws in enough herbivore Bestials that Jack can hunt without causing too much devastation. Rhys didn't even realise food was running scarce in their old neck of the woods until Jack had mentioned it last night. Perhaps he's becoming too reliant on Jack.
He feels brave enough to strike out on his own today though. Nothing too bad has happened since the laboratories after all. He can't let it define him anymore than the bunny ears already do. They tried to make a fragile little pleasure-pet but they didn't know who they were messing with. Jack might have torn them to pieces, but Rhys unlocked his cell. Every day Rhys tries to remember that. If they had succeeded, made him into the thing they wanted, then he would still have been there.
After a few minutes walking Rhys reaches the field. He can see a few Bestials here and there savouring the opportunity to munch fresh produce. He scans the field with his ECHO eye to find the best quality goods and his mouth waters at the sight of a shrub heavy with red fruit. His scan tells him the seeds are full of juice and he makes his way over to it quickly. To think, there was a time he would have asked a waiter to swap his roasted vegetables for more fries with his steak. Now the thought of eating meat turns his stomach.
What worries him is that these changes have been gradual, relentless and continuous. That had been understandable back in the lab, but some changes have occurred since. Jack's body hair situation, for example. There had been no growth in the labs but now he's starting to be borderline furry. Rhys' ears have grown longer. As he plucks fruits from the tree he examines the curved little claws that his nails have quite recently grown into.
It isn't just physical though. Really Rhys is more worried about the changes they can't see. Jack talks a lot about how he's always been a killer, adamant that there's no change to anything other than his situation. But from what Rhys can gather, the satisfaction is very different now. It's pragmatic where once it was sadistic. Jack doesn't like to talk about it. He insists it's all in the past, that the things that were done to them are all finished. He doesn't like Rhys' theory and refuses to entertain it or give it anymore evidence. His reluctance makes no sense. He's supposed to be a genius and if it's glaringly obvious to Rhys that they are all trapped in some slow devolution process, it has to be obvious to Jack. Maybe he can rationalise his own change in temper, but how can he explain Rhys' increasing struggle to manipulate his ECHO eye and interpret the data? Simple scans are still okay but more complex things like--
Rhys realises suddenly that he cannot see other Bestials in the field anymore. Those he can see are racing away from the bounty of fruit and veg. Racing for their lives.
His heart starts to pound. He tries to catch his breath. Ever so slightly he tilts his head. Sees a shadow out of the corner of his eye. Should have tilted the other way, looked with the ECHO eye and scanned. Too late now. Too much movement will trigger catastrophe. He gathers a breath as deeply as he can.
“Jack?”
The answering growl proves that was foolishly optimistic. Rhys feels dizzy with fear.
He flings his fruit back over his shoulder and runs. He doesn't have a direction or a plan and he can't think of one. He just runs as fast as he can, faster than he ever has in his life.
Behind him he hears plants crunch under the predator's feet as it chases him. Rhys is faster but if he doesn't figure out where he's going it will catch him but he can't think! His heart is practically whirring in his chest as he forces his long legs faster and faster. Stones cut into his feet but he keeps running while the predator behind him roars. His vision darkens round the edges.
Another roar startles him and he loses his footing, catching a toe on a rock then falling.
In a second the furry beast is upon him. It doesn't look like any Bestial he has seen before, but it has a clear human shape to the face. There is nothing human in the eyes anymore. When it snarls, drool pools in its mouth and drips from its fangs onto Rhys' face. A huge, heavy paw lands on his shoulder, claws digging in to draw blood. Only the slightly elongated fingers suggest it was ever a hand. The beast sniffs at him then shoves its tongue into the wound on his shoulder to taste the blood. Rhys screams.
It looks up and grins at him, the first sign of human emotion in its malice. But its amusement doesn't last long.
Jack hits the beast like a meteor, the full weight of his body thrown into it. Even though he's smaller than Rhys' attacker, he knocks the thing clear away. The beast roars. The brutal sound Jack lets out in return is terrifying. Rhys has never heard it before, even in the lab. The beast visibly shrinks back at the sound before fortifying itself for a charge.
They collide in a flurry of fangs and fur. Rhys watches helplessly as Jack throws a few punches and kicks before resorting to the same biting and scratching as his opponent. They move so quickly it's difficult to tell whether it's luck or skill that gets Jack's claws deep into the beast's furry throat. He wrenches them free with a spray of blood then grabs the beast's head and twists. A loud snap ends the fight.
Rhys' heart is still racing. Jack strides over to him, scratched up and dirty and bloody. He drops to his knees at Rhys' side and reaches out to cup his jaw.
“I got ya, kiddo.”
But he can't breathe. His shoulder hurts and Jack could have been killed and then where would Rhys be?!
“Breathe, Rhys. Now.”
He nods and tries but can't. Jack lowers a hand down the front of Rhys' ludicrous garment and rests it against his chest. He frowns.
“Pumpkin, I need you to calm down. Come on.”
Oh, how he tries. But the dizziness gets worse and worse, then everything goes dark.
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ECHO Log
Dr Alden's Private Record
“Handsome Jack is pleased with our work. So that's it, I guess. There was a moment I wasn't sure, when they nervously showed him the weaker Bestials, the bunnies and lambs and squirrels. Jack had frowned through the presentation and I thought maybe he was about to shut us down. I didn't know how to feel about that. But then he laughed and applauded our initiative. His interest is clearly invested in the predators. They're his desired endgame. Still, he let us show him around and Mendez got the opportunity to show off his favourite pet. Rhys was well-behaved, kneeling and calling Jack 'sir'. He stared at him like he couldn't believe he was there. Jack clearly approved and he ruffled Rhys' hair before the tour moved on. He likes the idea of having pets like Rhys on Helios. He said the corset was a nice touch, emphasised the novelty and weirdness of it all.
Rhys doesn't seem to know what to feel about relocation to Helios. I've been talking to him, trying to learn more about the man under the bunny ears. He played the innocent subject for a while, but that wore thin after a couple of weeks. He doesn't try to play on my sympathies anymore. Sometimes he won't even talk to me unless I bring a treat. He tries to be sulky and reticent but he can't always keep his mouth shut. He's mentioned things he has no way of knowing unless he's been scanning everything with that ECHO eye of his. It was kind of unsettling, really. The subjects are so wild or quiet sometimes I'd sort of forgotten they could think. Still, security's top-notch so nothing to worry about. No expense spared. Especially now that Handsome Jack wants some modifications for himself.”
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Jack is fucking starving. His stomach keeps rumbling louder than he can growl. He watches the narrow entrance to their little den, willing some tasty little morsel to stroll past so that he can lunge out and devour them without going too far from Rhys. He isn't letting his dumb little bunny out of his sight.
He gently puts his fingers to Rhys' throat and feels his pulse. Much better than it was. One of Rhysie's little complications of modified biology is his heart. All the bunnies are the same. They can literally be frightened to death. Jack finds it funny most of the time, but not in his bunny.
After a while he finds himself pacing. The branches and twigs constantly catch in his hair due to their low natural ceiling, which only serves to annoy him more. The only thing more frustrating than Rhys almost dying out there is how frustrated it makes him. The kid had no right to worm his way in under Jack's skin. But that's the problem with hitting rock bottom – you grab onto anything that helps you up. And honestly, he doesn't have any reason to let go now. Rhys stayed loyal to Jack while everyone else betrayed him. When the scientists forgot who they were messing with and treated him like a bad dog, when Hyperion considered him a loss to mourn but not to avenge... Rhys was in his dirty cell, staring at him like a man who'd found God. And if Rhys is his only worshipper, it's important to protect him, right?
The rain starts up again all of a sudden, drumming rapidly on the leaves above. Jack checks Rhys is properly tucked in under his coat. Well, his coat and another old coat because there's no coat in the universe that can contain those legs on its own.
His stomach rumbles again and he starts to think about the corpse of the huge predator he killed. It's not far, he left it where it fell in his rush to get Rhys back home. It wouldn't take him long to get back. He'd have to eat it raw if he wanted to be quick...
Decision made, he kneels down by Rhys to leave him a message. Just a little note so the kid doesn't freak out again when he wakes up. Normally Jack wouldn't bother, but remembering the way Rhys' heart had thrummed under his hand leaves him not wanting to take chances. He takes Rhys' cybernetic arm gently, intending to leave a little ECHO note that will light up in his palm when he wakes.
But he can't remember how to. The display seems foreign, even though he had a hand in designing the damn user interface. He snarls at it and Rhys' cybernetic fingers curl.
“What are you doing?”
The sleepy question interrupts him, draws his attention to Rhys' drowsy gaze.
“I was just gonna leave you a note while I grabbed some food, pumpkin. But whatever mods you've got on here have me flummoxed.”
Rhys frowns. “I don't have any mods. The arm's Hyperion standard.”
Which means... Jack doesn't like to think about what it means. He drops Rhys' arm down with a thud and stands up, hair catching in the damn natural ceiling again.
“Okay babe. I gotta go eat. Do me a favour and wait right here.”
He doesn't hang around for Rhys to start that boring old conversation again. He leaves their little love-nest and finds the corpse of the predator he had killed. It's untouched and even though Jack despises the sight of the bastard, his mouth waters at the thought of tearing flesh from the bone with his teeth.
But he's not an animal. He's not. So he forces himself to be patient and gathers wood to make a fire.
It won't light. It's still wet from the rain. No matter how hard he tries, it won't light.
His stomach growls. He can't wait.
Afterwards, when he gets back from his feast, he is so coated in gore that Rhys faints again at the mere sight of him.
/-/
ECHO Log
Dr Alden's Private Record
“Handsome Jack has adapted exceptionally well to the modifications. Mendez says he was born for it.
I think they sent him through the processes too quickly. That or they used methods I'm not party to. The specifications are all locked down. I tried to get them. I don't know why they'd hide them from me. I'm starting to think they hide a lot from me. Mendez seems to be getting paranoid.
I'm worried about the things we've done here. I've been conducting basic tests of my own and I've noticed a surprising degree of mental deterioration among the subjects. At first I put the small amount of data down to the conditions they're being held in and the traumatic nature of the experiments. But it's worse than I thought. I'm forced to conclude that the unstable nature of the transformation is leading to minor intellectual regression. If it worsens then we aren't improving people at all. We're just turning them into animals.
Wait. Something's happening. Mendez and the guards are--
That's Handsome Jack. He's out cold. They're dragging him to a cell, I don't--
What in the world?”
/-/
“Should we move on again?” Rhys asks.
Jack doesn't respond, sitting by the entrance to their little nest and glaring out at the world. The rain has stopped for now but everything is still damp. At one point it started pouring in through a gap in the fauna they use as a roof. Jack had just huffed at it and shuffled into another space.
Rhys crawls over and reaches for him. “Jack?”
Jack's hand grabs his wrist tight enough to hurt. His claws dig into the skin. He lets go almost immediately, snapping out of whatever daze he had been in.
“Sorry, pumpkin.”
He shakes his head as if to dislodge whatever is left of the aggressive mood and takes hold of Rhys' wrist gently. He presses a small kiss to the site of the injury and Rhys clambers into his lap to cuddle closer.
“Were you saying something?”
“I was asking if we should move on again.”
“You don't like it here?” Jack nuzzles at his neck, sniffing at him. He's been doing that a lot lately. “If that predator freaked you out babe, just remember what he looked like when I was through with him.”
“I'd really rather not think about it.”
“I'm not gonna let anyone else hurt you, Rhys.”
“It's not... I know you won't.”
Jack doesn't even let Rhys go out alone anymore. It used to be the opposite, Rhys waking alone and waiting hours for Jack's return. Now he's followed wherever he goes so that Jack can be certain that no other predator will try to take what belongs to him. Years ago all of this would have been a bizarre, unbelievable fantasy. Handsome Jack being possessive and protective of him.
“So what's the problem?”
“You just seem a little bored here.”
With his nose wrinkling and his brow furrowing, Jack says, “I'm not.” His hand squeezes Rhys' rear. “I'm perfectly content. We're exactly where we should be, cupcake.”
And Rhys is fairly dubious that his own destiny was to wear tacky burlesque clothing as a bunny-boy on Pandora, but the idea that Jack should be here instead of seated in a golden throne like a king on a satellite... That just doesn't compute.
He tries to think about what that signifies as he rests his head on Jack's shoulder. It's certainly a good idea to be accepting of change and to adapt. But so quickly and to such a degree that his ambition seems lost? Rhys remembers the aftermath of Helios, Jack's psychotic glee as they watched the fires from a distance. He remembers the way Jack had fucked him for the first time right there on the ground, whispering filthy promises and telling Rhys they would rule this skag heap.
Instead they're here, cuddled together in a cold little nest and Jack claims he's perfectly content.
Rhys closes his eyes and relaxes with Jack's strong arms around him. If Jack can be content here, so can he.
What was he worrying about? He can't remember. He falls asleep.
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ECHO Log
Dr Alden's Private Record
“I guess I've been naïve. This is Hyperion. Anyone entrusted with any kind of power invariably goes insane or was already insane before it. The forces we've been playing with here have given us power. Power over life itself and the path it takes. Now that they've perfected the process they've no intention of letting Handsome Jack dictate deadlines and direction any longer.
They're running further tests on him now and again, but he's not stupid. He knows they've no intention of letting him out until they've turned him into a feral beast. He knows this isn't about research anymore. It's a violation, a power play. Exactly the sort of thing he'd inflict on someone else for fun.
About a month ago they sent word to Helios that there had been an accident. They claimed Handsome Jack died. It was sick how quickly the vultures up there swooped in to take his place at the top. But the corporate backstabbing isn't staying up there. Things are getting pretty messy down here now that we have free reign. I heard Lucy saying she's going to lock Mendez's bunny pet Rhys in with Jack. Just to spite him. I don't know what Mendez will do in retaliation, but Lucy should probably get her food and drink taste-tested.
Either way, I'm out. I don't think I've been loud enough to register as a threat to my esteemed peers and I'm happy to leave it that way. I'm taking a couple of the guards and we're trekking to an outpost where we can call down a Helios shuttle. I've gathered all the intel they could need up there.
For a little while I toyed with the idea of leaving some of the cell doors unlocked, but I think that's a bit dramatic. Not to mention unnecessary. Once Hyperion hears what's being done down here, they'll probably moonshot the place into oblivion anyway.
This is Dr Alden, signing out.”
/-/
Jack roams more than he used to. He feels... Rhys called it 'restless', but it's not that. He doesn't feel the least bit unhappy with his newfound urge to wander and conquer. The sight of the moon hanging high in the night sky fills his heart with something that's been missing. He would never go back to Helios, even if he hadn't hacked its systems with Rhys and brought it crashing down to Pandora. This place feels so much more real than the life on Hyperion. Strangling and shooting just never really scratched the itch like his claws and fangs do. There's something true and primal in it. He fights to survive and to keep what's his and it's such a pure purpose.
Rhys is still a company man. Company bunny. He doesn't like the night like Jack does. He curls up in their little nest and waits for Jack until fear drives him out to search. Some nights Jack has nearly forgotten his little mate and struck out for pastures new without him. But something in the back of his mind has caught him each time, reminded him of the pretty thing that trusts itself so willingly to the wolf's jaws.
He's fighting it, is Rhys. Frowning at his cybernetic arm and struggling to focus his ECHO eye. Rhys still chats, holding conversations that are increasingly one-sided. Jack has run out of things to say. Anything he wants to say can be conveyed through touch and scent and blood. And Rhys always stops talking when Jack wraps his fingers around his neck.
Tonight Jack doesn't want to go back. He wants to hunt and feed and kill. He wants to be out in the world that he's helped to create. He had never expected the freedom that he feels.
One night's adventure turns into two.
He finds a river, fresh and full of fish with the moonlight playing along the rippling surface. The joy is pure and clean like something his life never had before.
It gets easier to stop thinking about before.
On the third night he trespasses on someone else's territory. He's never seen a bestial like this one, sleek and dark with compact muscle. It isn't an easy fight. Jack is victorious, but limps for the next few nights and struggles to use his left hand properly. Still, he has won the right to wander the terrain and that makes him feel alive.
For a few more nights he explores, eating whatever life he finds. He finds a small crop of vegetables and it makes him feel like he's forgotten something.
After a few nights of slim pickings, he's starving in a way he hasn't been for a long time. He doesn't know this area or its little hideaways. He doesn't know where to hunt. He's considering finding his way back to the river of fish, until he catches a delicious scent on the wind.
It's a bunny wandering in the dark. Jack prowls after it for a short while before bounding forward and tackling it to the ground. It cries out in shock and Jack sinks his teeth into its shoulder. A tender, tasty thing. His claws scratch at an unusual material and he draws his bloody mouth back from the meat to stare at the metal arm he holds.
“Jack?” The prey whimpers.
Jack snarls in its face to intimidate it and shut it up. One of its eyes flash startlingly, mechanic. It sobs, fear in its mismatched eyes as it gazes up at him. Jack leans back in to bite, but the scent brings a memory to the forefront of his mind. This little bunny laying before him, trusting and open and willing. Trembling on the ground in a cold cell, looking up at him and whispering, “Let me free you. Then you can kill me. If you want.”
Rhys.
In a violent motion Jack throws himself back and wipes at his mouth with the back of his arm. That's Rhys' blood pooled in his mouth! He should spit it out, but even in his horror he swallows it down.
His bunny slowly sits up, clasping a hand to the savage wound. “Jack.” Then he reaches for Jack with a bloody palm and Jack remembers every time he has grabbed that wrist, twisted it, kissed it but oh, he hasn't kissed it in a long time. He can't remember how he kisses with fangs.
“Jack,” Rhys says again, reaching and pleading like it's the only word he knows.
And Jack tries to say something, anything, but the words get all tangled and turn into growls. He tears off his too-warm coat and shuffles over to Rhys on his knees. The wound isn't bleeding as badly as it was. He wraps his coat around the shivering bunny.
“Jack?”
Then he leaves. While he still has the sense to protect what's his.
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ECHO Log
Dr Alden's Private Record
“Every night I hope I'm about to wake up on Helios. Instead, the sun rises and I'm here. Don't get me wrong, Pandora's a paradise now for the right kind of... well, not person. Maybe I'd have fared better if I'd experimented on myself like some of my peers. A few genetic modifications would be a blessing right now.
This research project turned into a survival mission the moment Helios detonated before our eyes. The shuttle barely avoided the debris. We had to crash right back down to the place we'd fled. We tried scurrying back to the lab with our tails between our legs, but it was already aflame. We've been living wild ever since. But I picked up communications from Dahl not so long ago. They have an interest in my work. Now that Mendez is gone, no doubt devoured by his own experiments, I can claim it all as my work.
All we need is one more specimen. We have a few caged already for the pick-up shuttle. One more and Dahl will get us off of this rock. But it's almost as if they've figured out what we're doing. The bestials, I mean. They all run for the hills as soon as they see us coming. They shouldn't be smart enough to make the connection, not at this point in the mental deterioration. It's exactly as I predicted. They've all fallen into instinctive behavioural patterns of their modifying species, forgetting human logic almost entirely.”
[Rustling]
“That's a weird one.”
“What, Gorg? Pass me the binoculars. … That's Mendez's favourite, Rhys. I assumed him dead from what happened in the lab.”
“Nice coat he's got.”
“Well you can have it once we catch him. I'm sure Dahl will find him fascinating. Have you got the carrot to use as bait? Good, good. String it up and hoist it over there. Lead him here. … Nearer. Come on, little bunny... Lure him past the boulders so Clarke and Lorne can come round from behind. … Stop sniggering and concentrate. He's almost here. Weak little thing. He looks half-starved. This will be a mercy capture.
There! Catch him! Catch him! Oh good job, boys.”
[Distant howling]
“Ignore it. Some predator's clearly hungry. Aww, look at this now. Do you remember me, Rhys? Go on, you can eat the carrot, it's okay. You've earned that carrot. Well, you're going to. Lorne, fetch the sedative from my pack in the tent?”
“He's pretty, for a furry freak.”
“That he is, Gorg. If you're into that sort of thing. I never was, myself. Lorne, where are you? Hurry up! Hey Rhys, can you still talk? You were one of the smarter subjects.
No? Pity. Probably just as well. LORNE? What's taking so long? Gorg, go and-- Oh god.”
[Howling]
“Shoot it! Shoot it! What are you waiting for?! That's Lorne's blood on its damn face and...”
“Is that...”
“Yes Gorg, it was once Handsome Jack now shoot it! We got between it and its prey and-- ARGH!”
[Gunfire. Screaming]
“Oh fuck, you bastard...” [Groan] “You bastard. How am I supposed to... Gorg? Gorg, wake up. Fuck. Fine! Fuck you, Jack. You want the bunny? Take it. Fucking tear it to shreds. I don't even care. God, I'm bleeding. You vicious... just let me... No! NOOO! Aarrggh!”
[Screaming. Ripping. Sobs. Crunching. Snarling]
[End record]
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It growls and prowls close.
Rhys falls back, full of fear. Shakes in his coat. Heart pounds fast.
Hand at his neck, holds tight. Squeeze.
Fur is soft on his face when it leans in and sniffs.
Sniff.
Sniff.
Eyes stare, one brown, one pale.
It growls. Tugs him close.
It's strong.
Warm.
A hand rubs his back.
The growl turns soft.
“Rrrrrrrhys.”
Strong.
Warm.
Safe.
He knows this wolf.
Rhys calms.
“Jack...”