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Cellulose & Steel	By : Not-Taylor Category: Misc Books > FemmeSlash Views: 1028 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own HDG or its characters and I don't make money from this work.

Chapter List
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An annoying yet pleasant chime wakes Song. She groans, thinking about having to receive and process another several dozen messages from the Affini urging her crew to surrender. She’ll never let them be taken alive. They’re all she’s got. Song brushes the hair out of her eyes and kicks aside the pool noodle. What?
She’s in bed with that weed. Again. Didn’t she go to sleep on the couch, and didn’t that xeno insist on singing her a lullaby that made her wide awake and paranoid? She seems to remember that. She also remembers she’s not actually a ship. In reality, she’s a disgusting meatbag who can’t fly with emotions that make it weak. It doesn’t like that.
Olivia gets out of the bed, hoping it won’t disturb Verda. Naturally, Verda was waiting for it to wake up. It’s unamused by her energetic attitude and early morning vigor. She tries to hug it but Olivia’s too quick. It escapes. Actually it’s nowhere near too quick, but she lets it go, making it feel even worse. She doesn’t seem to pick up on that.
Song tries to leave, but it can’t find slippers. It shouldn’t need them of course, but it does. It tries to leave anyway, but it can’t do that either. The door is locked and too thick to blast through. Song is trapped, and very unhappy. It belongs outside, doing things and going places. It wants to go back to space.
Everything’s so bright. It’s dim too. Song feels as if it’s wearing blinders or caught in some kind of space storm. It can’t see. It can’t hear. Everyone’s gone, it’s alone. It can’t taste Ginger. Something is trying to attack. Song kicks it to make it go away. It doesn’t. Song kicks again and breaks free. Song emits a shrill whine and taxis to the room with the couch. It lies there, hoping to stay hidden enough not to be hassled. It’s done with all of this. It was happy before. It wants to go back. Verda took that from it. She deserves to die.
Song misses its navigator, but she was taken too. They destroyed its navigator and it can never have her back. Ever since they captured Song they’re been trying to hurt it too. It knows it had these thoughts before. It doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter that these thoughts aren’t productive. They’re right thoughts. They’re Song’s thoughts, not some xeno’s. They’re all it has. Why can’t everyone just leave it alone so it can rust in peace?
“Would you like anything?”
“Online.”
“What does that mean?”
“Access denied.”
“I can’t let you mope.”
“Go away.”
“No, pet. I’m not going anywhere,” Verda says gently. She puts several vines across her property, trying to show she cares. Song doesn’t like that but it can’t move away. It’s trapped even more. It wants to die. Machines can’t die even if they malfunction. It wants to crash into a planet. It wants to jump into the hull of Ruby Trunk and shatter it.
“Darling, I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s wrong. After all the effort I’ve made to make you happy, do you really think I would deny you something you need?”
Everything is wrong. Nothing is right. Stupid plant.
“Go away.”
“We’ll just sit here together until you’re less upset, then.”
After a very long time in that awkward and uncomfortable position, Song can’t take it any more. She starts to cry. The weed tries to hug her but it’s ineffective. There’s only pain.
“Go away.”
“No. I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong.”
Song feels disgusting. She feels dirtier every second she’s in contact with the xeno weed. She hates herself for the weakness in soaking the couch in tears instead of destroying everything around her in fire. “Olivia, speak to me. Please.”
“I want to fly.”
“Still?”
“No. Fast,” Song murmurs sincerely. It starts toshake under the stress of interrogation.
“Where do you want to fly to, pet?”
“Anywhere but here.” Verda tenses slightly. She’s trying not to show that that hurts. Good. She should hurt after everything she’s done to Song.
“What if I could find a Terran ship for you to ride in today? Would you like that?”
Olivia immediately sits up in shock. Flying? That would make her so happy. It’s why she was built.
“Of c- I suppose, if it’s not a trick.” The weeds are very tricky. They lie and give false hope.
“I have no intention of tricking you, my dear. You’re clearly in distress and I have a suspicion that might be what makes you feel better. Let’s have some breakfast and I’ll see what I can do about that. Shall we?”
Olivia nods. She puts her hand at the back of her neck. They haven’t removed the junction yet. This won’t hurt at all, and maybe it’ll make her feel a little less deaf for a change.
She can’t help reciprocating Verda’s smile as they sit together waiting for breakfast to finish “cooking.” She looks so happy to have found something that her prisoner wants. It almost makes Olivia question her understanding of the xeno. She remembers how she was punished for daring to speak out against a tyrannical and authoritarian regime and shivers. No, they’re nothing like Terrans.
Breakfast is simple, just a bowl of oatmeal with raisins and an apple. It still tastes good and is filling. Olivia is hungry enough to finish it in a few minutes. It’s even allowed to eat with a spoon without having to ask permission from its keeper.
Meanwhile, Verda stares at her computer and types a long message. Perhaps she’s typing several messages, it’s hard to tell. That project takes her full attention for quite some time.
Olivia’s caretaker efficiently and stoically dresses it in red before brushing its hair and applying a set of black cuffs. It’s used to that by now and doesn’t complain, since it knows it’s getting something it wants at the far point of the trip. Of course, it doesn’t especially feel up to resisting that heavily. It slept well but something inside it is very tired. It doesn’t think it’s xenodrugs.
A beep comes through Verda’s tablet and she smiles before ushering Olivia out the door and through the park. This time it’s properly lit and there are several groups wandering through. Several florets are enjoying the greenery by themselves, and a pair of terrans is lying on a little slope and pointing out clouds to each other. They look happy. Verda looks fairly happy too. She’s barely paying attention to Olivia’s leash as they rush along the path.
A couple of nearly empty tram rides later, they come to a tower Olivia hasn’t seen before. It stretches through the roof and isn’t that large. It’s a bright green that reminds the Terran pilot that the vast majority of Affini infrastructure is made of plants. An unsettling thought.
Inside, there are two huge elevators labeled with opposite symbols, which Olivia gathers must mean up and down. Verda directs her to one of them. Based on the machinery around them, it’s probably the down elevator. Verda says something to the operator in Affini and they get on.
There’s a rather happy affini sitting on top of something that looks a bit like a forklift riding with them. She’s clearly enjoying herself with that big thing. A couple of bored looking affini are there too, probably going somewhere they’d rather not. The operator says something brief and they start to descend. It’s smooth for the most part, but it feels really weird for some reason. Probably the change in gravity. Olivia doesn’t mind since she’s been used to freefall for so long. One of the affini looks unsettled, but the others don’t appear to care. Verda doesn’t seem to care either.
“Do you just not care about gravity?”
“What?”
“You’re not reacting to us going out.”
“Oh, that. I’ve spent a lot of time on smaller ships. They don’t have the size to maintain a planetary level of simulated gravity, pet. I see you’re acclimating to the change easily too.”
“I’m trying not to jump.” It’s really hard for Olivia to resist. Seriously. She’d probably be able to go really high if she wanted to right now. She might even splatter on the ceiling! Not really, but it’s fun to think about. Maybe Verda could splatter instead…
“Perhaps you’d like to calculate the gravitational work associated with that path as a function of time?”
Olivia flinches and Verda chuckles. “I didn’t think so, darling. I won’t make you do that. Provided you behave today.”
A few moments later the lift beeps and slows to a halt. An operator and this station waves and tells them to get off in Affini. Everyone but the forklift operation disembarks and goes wherever they’re going. This deck isn’t much different from the other, as far as Olivia can see. The sky is similar, the decorations are similar.
The gravity is much lower on the outer deck, and the florets she sees walking around with their wardens are different too. There are a lot around here as they seem to be in some sort of apartment complex or downtown area. One looks like a reptile with a giraffe’s neck. Another looks like a weird bear crossed with a goat. In the distance there appear to be a couple of birds. Angels? They do look like that, at least from a distance. Olivia wants to see if that’s what she’s really seeing.
“Online!”
Verda gently pulls the other way so she doesn’t have time to think more about that. They ride in yet another tram and eventually reach the end of the ship. There’s a docking port here and what looks like a Terran radio transmitter. The only person around is a tiny affini who’s barely bigger than Olivia.
Verda greets the affini and talks quickly. Olivia waits quietly but impatiently, still annoyed she’s not part of the conversation. Not soon enough, they finish and look at her. The other affini raises its hand for her to shake but she’s not in the mood now.
“My name is Dorothy Kesse, third bloom. It’s nice to meet you.”
Verda pokes her floret gently. “I’m Olivia.” She knows better than to use her real name. The weed wouldn’t understand.
“Well, Olivia, your owner tells me that you want to go for a spin. Is that true?”
“It… is.” What’s she supposed to say?
“You’ve flown a lot before, right?”
“Over ten thousand hours in the tank.” Olivia’s proud of that total. She’s good because she’s worked for it.
Dorothy exhales. “That’s a lot, especially for your age. I’m sure you know your way around a flux inductor.”
Very funny. “I can perform a gravitational slingshot without a well.” It’s true. It’s not hard when you actually understand how your hyperdrive works. The affini looks genuinely surprised.
“You can do that?”
“Yeah?”
“With your hyperdrive.”
“Who else’s would I use?”
“Um... That’s cool. Well, your mistress wants you to fly and I want to see a professional work this thing. Are you up for the task?”
“What is it?”
“A Terven Electric model 8H. This one was stripped during the war, so it’s not very comfy.”
That’s a shame. Those are luxury ships. It must handle really nicely, especially if it was upgraded to be usable in a fight.
“How’s its steering?”
“That I don’t know. Nobody was at the helm when we picked it up. The sunlight system seems to be custom.”
That makes sense. Anyone rich enough for a ship like that would want everything custom and special.
“You’re really going to let me just get in and go?”
“Well, your mistress is going with you in case something goes wrong. And to keep an eye on you. I’ll stay here for the same reason I’m not out flying it myself.” No elaboration. It’s a little fishy, but Olivia doesn’t mind if affini make bad choices regarding her. She really needs to get out of this stupid meatbag and feel alive again. Her hull sensors are flaring up.
Verda places a vine gently on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, pet. I’ll be watching you the whole time.”
Is it really that surprising Verda wants to go too? It would be uncharacteristically dumb to let her property go after it’s told her repeatedly every single day they’d known each other that it wants to be free and fly away. She’s not an idiot, unfortunately.
Verda thanks the strange affini and the two of them walk through a portal to a Terran ship’s docking tube. “Ides of November”. Olivia can’t think of anything that would have happened then. She’s reminded of the fact that months other than March even have an ides, and isn’t entirely sure what that means.
The ship is much more spacious than the Song of Destruction. There’s even enough room to walk together in the corridors. With Verda’s size, that’s really impressive. It’s claustrophobic compared to the monstrosity they just stepped out of, but that’s not the point. It’ll be a fast one, Olivia thinks. She’s giddy as she thinks about how good it will feel to jump into the sensory deprivation fluid. She pauses.
“Where’s my suit? I kind of need one.”
“That, yes. There should be one in the locker.”
“But will it be my size? I’m a weird size.”
“The Affini Compact has a policy of ensuring that all craft are stocked with the equipment needed for their correct functioning. If a pilot is to wear a suit, then there will be all of the suits associated with that.”
Olivia isn’t sure about that. She leads the way into the core of the ship, remembering how to navigate the passages by feel. Even if she’s never been aboard this make, it feels right to be around something made by humans again. The shine of polished steel and rough plastic feel and smell like home. It hasn’t even been that long, she recalls. Still, it’s good to have it back.
Verda serenely drifts along with her, trying to stay out of the way. Verda is barely able to fit through the helm’s door. The way she contorts to get through makes Olivia a little ill, even if the only thing shifting is the position of some vines.
They stop and stare at the pilot’s tank. It’s clean and uncracked. Very nice. It must not have seen much action. The wires coming out of it are tied neatly together, preventing the mess Olivia had gotten used to when she was Song. She smiles as she sees the ship’s manual chained to the wall on top of a shelf. She really is on a Terran military vessel.
The main lights of the ship come online as Olivia touches the tank, an automatic feature that’s standard in case of emergency. Flying without a navigator will be difficult, but she’s done it before. This should be great. She feels awake, alive, and at home for a change. Just being here is bringing her back her old self.
The locker does in fact contain two of every regulation size of interface suit, meaning that they did not in fact have Olivia’s size. That will have to do. Olivia goes to remove her clothes, but pauses as she remembers the presence of the xeno in the room. She looks behind her. Verda has no idea what the problem is. Of course not. Olivia’s been naked in front of her too many times for it to register as anything strange. She blushes.
“Go ahead, pet. I know you want to fly.”
Olivia frowns and changes anyway. The weed is right. She’s right about Song wanting to fly, not about her being a pet. She tries to salvage a little modesty in the process. It makes her feel better to believe that was successful, even if she’s too desperate to force the issue.
The motions she goes through and the way the material stretches are unfamiliar. It’s been quite a while since she’s done this with a fresh suit, but once it’s on it feels natural. It feels naked, in a good way. She feels powerful. Her brain is already starting to quiet a little. The pilot smiles confidently at Verda, who smiles back.
“I need you to go to the bridge to check some readings so I know it’s safe to unmoor.”
Verda nods and smiles more. She’s surprisingly complacent about taking orders from her “floret.” She also seems oddly knowledgeable about the ship’s systems. Of course, it’s all made so an idiot (aka a gold spoon trust fund baby who thinks he’s Blackbeard) can operate it. The checks don’t take long and they’re ready to set off in a few minutes.
Olivia takes a long deep breath and scales the tank before jumping in.
COLD!
That doesn’t feel good at all. She shivers and grits her teeth until her skin calms down. Of course it’s cold, but she’ll be used to the temperature soon. She raises it by a degree in the meantime. It’s already starting to feel normal again. The cold helps insulate the pilot against the engine’s heat next to the tank. There’s enough sound insulation to keep her safe, and radiation isn’t an issue, but the heat coming through the walls can’t really be compensated. The fluid feels nice. It’s slippery and comforting. The sensory fluid hugs Olivia as she braces herself for interface.
The cable is lighter than she remembers, but the adapter is the same. This must be a newer model. It feels fragile. Olivia exhales as she puts it against her end of the connection. She attaches the breather to her mouth and inhales as she joins herself to the ship.
- 18
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Cellulose & Steel