The Bad Batch: One Shot Collection

Tomb of Unknown

She doesn't know what to say to it. It doesn't even get to eat?

Does it have a name?

That doesn't matter.

She has a job to do.

The mer struggles against the chains before he finally gives in, energy sapping out.

He looks so much more human up close. His eyes are brown. It's... well, his face is male, so it's probably a he.

Just like her – her brothers.

Emerie tries not to think about that, or about how her mind whispers with fierce familiarity when she sees him. It doesn't matter. "Here," she says, reaching out to touch his neck. It's the only place that she could theoretically take a blood draw from without stabbing a needle through his scales. "It will only hurt for a moment."

He doesn't fight her touch, but Emerie has the distinctive feeling he wants to. His eyes are wild and scared. He looks so young.

She stabs the needle into his neck by his gill, pulling the plunger to fill the small vial with red liquid.

The mer doesn't tear his eyes from her face.

Up-close, she sees the muzzle locked over his jaw. It has a series of buttons on the back for deactivation, and what she thinks might be a keyhole. Not something even a mer could picklock.

The scales on his neck are small and smoother than they look everywhere else, a twisted light blue and gold design that fades into a deeper ocean-blue and brighter gold on his tail. It's familiar somehow. Pulls at something in her head, a memory wispy and forgotten.

He pulls away the moment Emerie pulls the needle out, but hesitates to duck back beneath the water.

His eyes, though.

They look so intelligent.

Not like just a fish creature.

Emerie tries not to think about it.

***

She runs into Omega on the way out.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, blinking down at her sister. "I was not aware you had responsibilities in this wing of the facility."

"Nothing," she blurts out, "I – I got lost. Sorry."

She's lying. Emerie decides to excuse it, anyway. Her sister is still young.

***

Hemlock sent her in for scales today. Emerie doesn't know how many – they only require a small number, but the mer can't lose too many without it damaging him.

He's on the surface of the bank when she enters, just lying there looking at her.

He won't when he realizes why she's here. This will hurt him. "I will need you to hold still," Emerie requests, approaching him. He shifts up, tail falling back into the water. She should only need a few, but it will still hurt.

Emerie crouches beside him, dropping the equipment she brought. She touches his tail wither gloved hand, and he twitches, jerking and shifting back even if he doesn't pull away. He doesn't like being touched.

"I will only need a few," Emerie tells him, reaching for her blade.

He jerks away from her, ducking back into the water with a splash.

Emerie squeaks, the water soaking through her clothes and drowning her glasses. She pulls them off to shake the water off so she can still see. "That was unnecessary," she warns, "Resistance will only worsen your situation."