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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
- 5
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Verda resituates herself in her chair with the posture of a boarding school principal about to expound on the horrors of masturbation. The present subject of her domestication campaign looks back carefully, waiting to be told she shouldn’t be breathing without a weed’s help or something equally stupid. Actually, the weed looks uncomfortable too. Perhaps this is going to be even worse than expected. Maybe she should have said “no, I’m tired, let me go to bed.” To “our” bed. She shudders, the enjoyment she’d gotten from dessert rapidly fading into the past.
The affini grimaces, the first time Olivia has seen that happen. Showing weakness in front of a POW? Something must be very wrong.
“I gave you my name before, but I will now repeat it to make sure you remember. I am Verda Edok, fourth bloom, daughter of Orion Edok, second bloom,” She states proudly. She pronounced it like oriole. Verda pauses, as though she expects the Terran to have the faintest idea who she or her parent (father?) might be. Olivia simply listens quietly, waiting for the part that must surely come next. The affini pauses, waiting for a reaction that doesn’t come.
“This is where you tell me your name, pet.”
Olivia blinks. She doesn’t know who I am? That… hadn’t occurred to her. Aren’t the Affini supposed to know everything about their captives, now that they had the databases of the Accord as well as her ship’s manifest? Perhaps that means some patriot scrubbed the archives on Terra and one of the remaining crew must have destroyed any trace of other ships’ locations. That means others are still out there, and she has to be strong for them so they have a chance to save the human race and maybe even rescue her, though the latter seems less likely with every passing minute.
“Come now, don’t start drooling again.”
Olivia flinches at the reminder of the effects of the shampoo. She preferred not to remember that. No doubt that could be arranged once they scrambled her brains on the mothership.
“Isn’t that your expectation? You give your name, rank, and administrative identifier when captured?”
“Not to you, weed. This is a violation of the Geneva conventions. The humiliation, starvation, and pharmacological torture of a military combatant are banned under the laws of civilized races.”
“Starvation? After I just fed you more than the caloric rations of your own navy? After I let you wash yourself and then rescued you from the consequences of smearing unknown substances on your body? After I gave you fresh clothes only for you to make them dirty as soon as you had sufficient awareness? Well. I suppose I could place you in a little cell and feed you nutrient paste. We did recover some from your ship. Would that make you happier, darling?”
“It’s still an affront to international law, which is the cornerstone of a rules based diplomatic order that guarantees the liberty and human rights of every sentient being.”
“Did you make that up by yourself? What a clever Terran!” Verda replies adoringly, knowing full well that that was simply a repetition from some memorized text.
“I- it’s…” Olivia stumbled over her words. Excluding the xenodrugs, she hadn’t been mistreated so far, aside from the overly familiar tone of her captor.
“Your name, please. I’d like to know what I should call you.”
Gears turn in Olivia’s head. Aha! She knows what to say..
“Mistress.”
The affini finds this extremely amusing and laughs for more than a minute.
“Ah, darling, I would be more than happy to refer to you as Missy, but I’d like to know the name you’d like everyone else to call you.”
“Um…”
She doesn’t want to do it. Revealing her name would be giving Verda what she wants! But then again, it’s… not that big of a request, nor is it unreasonable. Maybe it would even stop the repeated assertions that she’s a pet, when she most certainly is not one. Regardless, Verda waits patiently for Olivia’s thoughts to be sorted.
Bracing herself, she answers. “Olivia Donnoly, Pilot Second Class, Song of Destruction.”
Verda reaches a long fingered hand across the table. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Olivia. I hope our relationship moving forward will continue to be as positive as it has been becoming through the latter part of today.”
“You mean the part during which I was a vegetable because of your chemical warfare?”
“The part where you were behaving and not trying to run away from your mistress,” Verda corrects darkly, keeping her hand outstretched. Olivia simply stares at it.
“Very well, we can do this the inconvenient way, Olivia Edok, second floret. I was expecting to have more time with you, but it seems Ruby Trunk has made more rapid progress than anticipated. We will be docking in the morning, and we will be attending a ceremony with other domestic units as soon as we do. They’re waiting for us, darling.”
A ceremony sounds very bad. In fact, if a word worse than bad exists, that word is how a ceremony sounds, especially one requiring the full names of captives. Awful, horrible, catastrophic… Those all feel very applicable in this context, as far as Olivia is concerned. But-
“Did you call me Olivia Edok?”
“Yes, I did.” The surname’s proper owner begins to smile. “I’m glad we won’t have any confusion in that regard. You see, it’s tradition for pets to take the familial name of their mistress. I’m told that on Terra you have a similar custom.”
“But I already have a name! It’s a good name! It’s my father’s name! It’s my mother’s name too! I refuse to betray my family just because you say so, you sadistic xeno freak!”
“Was it always your mother’s name?”
Olivia doesn’t want to answer that, not exclusively because she’s fighting back sniffles.
“I see. If your mother was willing to “betray” her family because your father offered her a little metal circle, would you be willing to do the same for a similar price?”
“A… ring?” Olivia’s mouth opens in confusion. She quickly shuts it but can’t formulate a more intellectual reply.
“That’s it, a ring. That’s part of the human female renaming ceremony, is it not?”
“That’s not what that means! Women, not ‘females’ don’t sell themselves or their ancestry for some jewels, they…” She couldn’t fill out the sentence before finishing it. “They… sometimes show their love for a man (or another woman) by merging their assets, for tax reasons. The origins of the tradition are deeply misogynistic. But- Of course you see me as lesser, you keep calling me a ‘pet’ and talking about how you’re going to subvert me. But I will NEVER break, you walking salad!”
“I see. Well, I hope that someday you will grow to love me enough not to see this as demeaning or belittling. It means that you’re a part of my family now, as much as the family I sprouted with. Would it comfort you to think of this process as adoption, since I rescued you from a burning ship myself?”
“A ship you set on fire! Do you have any idea what would have happened to me in an oxygen fire if I hadn’t been in a tank!”
“I’m… well aware, pet. That’s why we say that we need to prevent you from harming yourselves with feralist ideologies that promote violence and hatred. Had your vessel surrendered following the enactment of the Human Domestication Treaty, we would have accepted that without conflict.”
“You would still turn us into pets.”
“Your crew in particular? Perhaps, though perhaps not. It all depends on your behavior and your ability to integrate into a proper society.”
“What if I don’t want to integrate?”
“That’s why you’re here, darling.”
Olivia stares sullenly into space. That isn’t how she’d wanted the conversation to turn out. But she doesn’t know what she expected, to stun the weed into releasing her with sheer oratory flair?
“What… What- What if I did want to integrate into your society?” It’s purely hypothetical, but she’s curious. Verda had implied there was another option.
“Then we would do everything in our power to make you comfortable during your adjustment and ensure that you would have a life meeting the standards of dignity that govern the Affini Compact.”
“Then, you would still make me a pet.”
“We would not unless you wished it. You would be treated much the same as any other of our ward races, but you could remain on Terra if you wished. For you however, it’s too late, as you’ve taken up arms against our peace and sought to harm others who were willing to live peacefully.”
“Then I’m proud to have fought against such an enemy. Terran honor demands it. We will prevail, one way or another.”
“How ominous. That’s why you needed to be pacified.” Verda’s vines sway thoughtfully. “If only you Terrans had levied that determination toward something other than killing.”
The affini sighs. “You must still be ready for tomorrow. As soon as breakfast is finished we will depart. You will introduce yourself as Olivia Edok, second floret, and you will stay by my side through the entire day. Most of all, you will not start any of these inane discussions with anyone we meet. Am I clear?”
“I won’t play dress up with you, xeno.”
“That isn’t what I asked. I asked if you understood what I just told you. Do I need to say it again?” Her tone is beyond any ambiguity. She will not accept anything but agreement.
“Yes.”
“Yes…?”
“Yes, Verda”
“That will have to suffice for now, I suppose. Even if the Field Guide to Domesticating Feral Humans advises against such things, I will tell you that I don’t look forward to what’s coming either. It won’t be… bad, if you enjoy being around large numbers of people.”
“How many-”
“Hundreds, most likely. Thousands probably. Maybe ten thousand at most? I don’t anticipate such a turnout.”
Even fighting her way through a thousand humans would be nearly impossible, Olivia reasons. There’s simply no way she could defeat a thousand Affini by herself, many trained in battle, as well as their human shields, herself merely a pilot. If she could escape by weaving through follicles of hyperspace and microjumping, then they would have had a serious fight on their hands. That doesn’t mean Olivia has any intentions of giving up. She could steal a knife, and this time not get caught doing so. She could talk some of the other captives into helping her. She could burn down the ship like a Siberian wildfire. It’s a military vessel, after all. It’s not her fault some innocent humans might be held there. Verda dying too would be plenty of compensation.
“Well, no doubt you have other questions you haven’t thought of yet, little one. I will leave you with this,” she reaches a vine from her back across the habitation unit and collects her tablet. “As soon as I set it up, you’ll be able to watch a set of videos that have been prepared for you. You can watch in whichever order you like or not watch any, but skipping them might be confusing. You would benefit from doing so, but I won’t force you to. I know that as a ‘Free Terran’ you dislike being constrained in such a way. Either way, I will be working and thus unprepared to entertain you tonight.”
Saying that, she presses a large number of buttons on the screen and sets down the tablet in front of Olivia. She walks away with a parting pat on the head for her floret and doesn’t look back.
“Fucking degenerate weed,” Olivia mutters to herself.
- 5
- 6
- 7
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Cellulose & Steel