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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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They arrive after no more than fifteen minutes of total travel time. Thanks to a lot of effort on its part and not Verda’s, Ember recognizes the Affini writing on the sign telling it that they’re entering a veterinary clinic. It’s not amused whatsoever that it’s visiting two in a row, but it believes in Verda not to force it to receive an implant just because it agreed to something. If not, it’ll make her existence as miserable as it can with the last willpower it possesses. She’d deserve far worse than that, of course, but it knows that it has to settle for what it’s capable of.
A tall humanoid affini in a white coat greets them and they say “ash kazhu” (pronounced slightly different from kashu) to one another, though Verda corrects Ember to “Uu kashu” when it tries to politely join in. It doesn’t quite get the difference, but there are bigger things to worry about at that moment. The affini exchanges a few phrases with Verda that Ember can’t quite pick up on. It’s irritated in its lack of ability, but a good floret wouldn’t interrupt and it has to play the part. This won’t take long, will it?
“My name is Volatio Enra, fifth bloom (they/them). I’m the vet here today. Tell me your name, please.”
“Ember-” the Terran begins. Verda’s firm glance hits it. “Edok, second floret.” She smiles proudly. Ember suspects that she’s going to taunt it again later. It remembers how important this is… for Terra. It ignores the bile rising in its throat.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ember. Such a clever floret, too, learning Affini,” the weed coos. They’re so condescending. She is condescending. It mustn’t humor the nonsense. Ember isn’t sure how much longer its patience will last. “Do you know why you’re here?”
“My floret does not. Would you like to explain, or should I?”
“This is your floret, so the decision is yours.”
“Of course. Ember, what is your capacity for pain?” It doesn’t like that question.
“I can take more than a lot of people. Can you be more specific?”
“Can you hurt yourself?”
“I’ve done some of that in certain contexts.”
“You don’t need to be so evasive. I’m not trying to use that information against you, pet.” She savors the feel of the word, as though she doesn’t think that antagonizing it will have consequences. “It’s a question of determination.” Verda looks to the veterinarian to continue.
“I’ve been tasked by your mistress with mixing a particular set of drugs.” Did the vet just say drugs, as in, not xenodrugs? “Verda has asked me not to explain in greater detail what they do, but they’re for the project that she’s told me about. In my professional opinion I disapprove, but I’m basically just here as a chemist. This is what’s going inside of you, you brave little terran.”
She pulls out a relatively large injection thing full of liquid. The cap is covered to preserve sterility, but otherwise it looks a lot like one from Terra. The milky brown fluid doesn’t slosh because it’s in a vacuum.
“Do you know how to perform an injection?”
It nods. It’s done that a few times, but having somebody else do it is a lot easier.
“Good. You’re going to be injecting yourself when you get home. I refuse to take part in this silliness and I won’t have you stabbing yourself in my office, but your mistress has made… a compelling argument for me to be accommodating to her plans. This needs to go into muscle. Pick somewhere and just do it, it shouldn’t matter where if you don’t pick somewhere that you’ll damage yourself. Any questions?”
“Is there an easier way to do that?”
“Certainly, and your mistress could just inject you herself aside from that! But she won’t. Have a nice day.” The affini giggles and exits the examination room.
Verda looks satisfied as they leave, thanking the vet civilly as they pass where she’s moved to. Volatio didn’t seem to notice the literal parasitic growths on Ember’s back. It doesn’t feel inclined to comment aloud, but it’s not pleased with the situation. The injector tucked by Verda’s core for safekeeping is already jabbing its awareness.
Instead of returning to her residence, Verda takes her prisoner somewhere new. Their next errand is on the innermost deck, as far as Ember can tell. The gravity here is very faint, but still strong enough to walk under. It can feel the sideways motion trying to shove it against the floor. The deck is much greener than the others it’s seen, full of entire buildings not even trying to disguise their botanical construction. It appears to be a giant garden, and there are almost no floret slaves. Affini bustle around speaking their language instead of their florets’. If the weeds weren’t trying to take over the universe and enslave literally everyone, it would be a comfy place to be. Ember has no trouble understanding why the weeds might like this kind of environment.
Verda didn’t say where they were going, so it must be somewhere that Ember won’t like. Maybe it’s a third veterinarian today. Stars, that’s a lot of fake doctors. At least this place is soothing. It wonders what this is for. Weeds are so fond of their slaves, but there are almost none… Could this be a place for those deemed unworthy of a “pet?” Maybe they’re too old, or too insane. It’s so serene, despite the low gravity, Ember can’t help wondering why an affini wouldn’t take her pet to live here. Maybe there’s some regulation it’s unaware of. Their bureaucracy seems insane, from what it’s already seen.
Maybe that’s why the last weed was so strange regarding the stuff she gave Verda. Naturally, an admiral can use military expediency to bypass any red tape and break normal rules. Would she do that for Ember? More to the point, would she do that to Ember? It dreads what will happen when they return to Verda’s home. The Terran places its additional limbs behind its back and pulls them against each other as it thinks. What a strange sensation…
Because the deck is so small, they don’t have to walk very far to reach their destination. The building is subtly labeled with characters Ember hasn’t seen before. Some look a little familiar but most don’t. The building itself is unimposing, not even having a second floor. It resembles a beaver’s den, coated in moss, only larger. Verda confidently walks up to the cheerfully painted blue door and knocks.
“What are those letters?” Ember asks as they wait for an answer.
“An old script of Affini used in a lot of formal settings. One might call it High Affini, but I think that’s too pretentious for what it is. Not many affini need to learn it properly, aside from historians, linguists, those who work with the oldest plants…” She trails off, evidently completely distracted by her thoughts.
The opening of the door stops Ember from asking any more questions. A tiny affini only two meters tall grins at them. The face reads as tiger, but a few details feel wrong. Ember hasn’t seen enough tigers to know the difference without more time than it has to check. The affini beckons them in without an introduction.
“Welcome, both of you. You, I know well.” The weed winks at Verda. “You must be my newest recruit. It’s nice to have somebody who’s eager to help out.”
“What did Verda promise you on my behalf?”
“Only that you’d help out with a seed or two. Depending how it goes, of course. I’m a little surprised you’d agree, since your mistress told me you were still feral.”
“Please don’t call me that.”
“I stand corrected.” That wasn’t quite what Ember hoped she would say. “You’re going to talk your mark out of gender repression, correct?”
“More likely ignorance than repression-”
“Ignorance? Really? I thought…” The affini doesn’t look at Verda. This is clearly something she expects Ember to know about.
“No, ignorance is much more common, but sometimes the repression is so thick it forms a second shell.”
The affini nods as though she has any idea what it’s talking about. “Then you’ll surely be good at this, since you know all about it. I’ll be expecting daily reports, by the way. Then I can help you with the technical aspects. Unless you like hacking into cobbled together security systems without sanity or synergy.”
“That doesn’t sound fun to me.” There’s no sport in it, any more than there’s sport in rolling around in the mud.
“Of course. Make sure you keep in touch. We wouldn’t want you becoming too attached. Hah, that happens all the time. You look tough, so I hope you’ll be strong here too.”
“Right. But how do you benefit?”
“The seed you’re going to peel-
“Egg, and you crack them.”
“Like nuts, I see. Thank you Ember. Once you’ve cracked the egg, we’ll be in a better position to address the threat posed by whichever ship said egg happens to be on.” The affini smiles. She’s leaving something out of that, it’s certain. “Anyway, here’s my contact, message me as soon as you can, and every morning after that. I don’t mind if you miss a couple of days, but I’d rather you tried, at least, since you’re probably not dropping by very often. Oh, and here’s an official tablet. This is what you’ll use for contact since it’s tied into some secure systems in a way I’ve been trying my best to keep out of general circulations. You’ll only be able to do work on it, so don’t bother trying anything else, not that you’d need to. This system makes things a lot easier for everyone. And Verda, here’s this for you.” She hands over a bunch of stuff to Verda and nothing to Ember. It guesses that means Verda’s going to hang onto it all.
“It’s really that easy?”
“For me it is! You’ve agreed to do the difficult bit.” The affini laughs. “Really, I think it’s adorable that you want to help out with our domestication efforts.” Verda’s change in vine swishing tempo isn’t hard to notice. “I mean… Welcome to the Intelligence Services team.”
“Aren’t you the wee- the affini who talked a bunch of people into betraying their ships and turning them in?”
“That’s right, that’s us. Not necessarily us, the people here… Us, throughout the Compact, if that makes sense, cutie.” She reaches out to pat Ember’s head, but its expression and Verda’s (though it can’t see hers) make her abort. “You’ll be using the same network, which is why we’re being careful. There hasn’t been organized resistance in a while so the infrastructure is not that well used any more. It’s pretty good for training, though.”
“You killed my captain.”
Her face pales and the chipper motion of her vines comes to a complete halt. Verda rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anything. She must know better than to get involved in this. It’s technically not her fault, so she’s probably just as happy to stay out of Ember’s sights. The lack of obvious tension from her direction also suggests she just might not care.
“He’d be alive if not for your subversion.”
“I’m… very sorry to have had any role in his demise. Could you go into more detail so I can file a report to ensure that never happens again?”
“One of my crew was compromised by your agents. The specific agent in question is living happily aboard this ship. I suspect now that my captain was also compromised, leading him to act irrationally and lose the loyalty of the crew. His order to surrender came suddenly and went against the wishes of just about everyone, myself included. Your present testimony leads me to conclude that his treason was inspired by one of your operatives.”
“Did… Did the two you suspect of being ‘compromised’ seem to be working together?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Then it’s very likely they had different handlers. That’s very rare due to the risk of negative outcomes you just gave an example of. Could you tell me the name of the vessel so that I can cite that in my report?”
“Song of Destruction.”
“Thank you. I’m… sorry for your loss, Ember.
After that she stares at the floor emptily. Verda pauses for about a minute to see if anything changes, and when it doesn’t she pulls her charge to the door. “Thank you, comrade,” she quietly says. See? They do call each other comrade! They’re communists. Ember tries not to gloat visibly, given the circumstances.
Something’s clearly on Verda’s mind as they ride the elevator to the floor below them, but Ember doesn’t feel like asking. She’s probably thinking about the conversation, but still, it can’t be entirely certain, can it? It hopes that it hasn’t transgressed the terms of their… contract? Bet?
“How would you feel about one more errand today, Ember?”
“Do I have to go?”
“I’d rather you did, and for now, that means you will.” This isn’t going to be worth fighting against.
“Where are we going?”
“The records office, to change your name. You’re still sure about this one, Ember Edok, second floret?” She says the name slowly, enjoying the taste. Do affini have taste buds?
It’s completely certain, as weird as having a new name feels. It’s more right than its old one ever felt. Just… it’s been thinking. For everything it’s gone through, there won’t be any record outside of trivia that only affini who’ve never had a floret will ever care to learn. Soon, all of its past will be gone. It can’t let everything go away… This is probably the last chance to speak up that it will get.
“I was wondering… Could I have a second name?”
“Certainly. Just write it in the box after the first. The Terran practice of taking middle names always struck me as a little odd.-”
“That’s not what I mean. I want… an extra name. Sort of a formal name, to go with my regular name.”
“What for? You can use the more formal name as an official name and introduce yourself by the other one.”
“That won’t work. I… want to be able to use both, interchangeably.”
“How come, darling?” Verda looks at her prisoner, head tilted.
“I just think it’d be nice, if I wanted to have things a certain way… sometimes. It’d make me feel better. Am I really the first to feel that way?”
“I suppose that could be possible… What you’re asking for isn’t going to happen today, of course. Hmmm.” Her top vines start to move excitedly. “That’s a wonderful idea. I like it! I’ll organize a fleetwide vote on whether to introduce a secondary name field to the identification form. We should have results by the end of the week.”
The doors open as they reach their destination. Ember waits until they’re off the elevator since there are several xenos moving past them.
“A vote?”
“Yes, why wouldn’t we. For ideas like this I’m sure it would be simpler if I could just dictate the change instantly, but this way everyone else can get excited about it too, and be ready for it.”
“And you have votes just whenever?”
“Would you rather wait until the end of the year?”
“No…” It taps on the ground with the tips of its surplus appendages.
“I didn’t think so. Everyone can vote digitally, florets included. It’s an easy process. I’ll install the voting system on your tablet when we get home.”
“You really let your slaves vote?” It still can’t believe that’s the case.
“No, pet. We don’t let slaves vote. There exists no legal category for slaves. They don’t exist. There are no slaves in the Affini Compact, Ember. Do I need to explain that fact yet again?”
“Then what am I?” It regrets the question as soon as it finishes asking and flinches in anticipation of Verda’s response.
“You’re my cute and sparky floret, of course. You’re my adorable pet who has brilliant ideas that will make the fleet’s population happier.” Ew.
“Do you really think they’ll want extra names?”
“Enough will, and every rapchik of a floret who wants another name certainly will. Most of the rest won’t be opposed to the idea. Maybe somebody will make a compelling argument about how that will require reformatting the forms into something ugly, which would change a lot of minds. Sometimes there’s a great deal of discussion. There’s an entire ballot forum where you can discuss things.”
“That’s impressive.” It’s all for show.
Hold on, doesn’t that mean Verda has all the power, if she picks what will be voted on and when? Doesn’t that make her the godqueen of this fleet? That’s a surreal topic that Ember would rather not think too much about. Its “owner” is the most powerful affini around, and in command of nearly unbeatable firepower? It wonders how tempted she gets to cross into the Affini home system with her navy. The other two admirals probably wouldn’t like that very much, especially if she were to start referring to herself as Imperatrix Temporaria. She could pick a term of some short number of years, and later choose a planet with an absurdly long orbital period as the definer of an Affini year, allowing her to remain in power for millennia…
That’s when Ember notices that Verda’s dropped its leash. It’s been walking with her and not trying to run away, even though it could. The Terrans cheeks flush in shame. It looks around to see where it could go. There’s nowhere. Verda just put a vine around it, not close to touching it but preventing its escape. It beeps in frustration before turning back to its proudly smiling captor.
“You’re a very good floret, Ember. I’ll give you a treat when we get home.”
It doesn’t want a treat, it wants to be free! This stupid weed is ruining its life. The Affini have ruined its life. They took away its navigator, perverted its captain beyond toleration (probably… it has no proof that that’s what happened), and dressed it up to suit their xeno sensibilities. A proud Terran warship deserves far better. It snorts. They arrive home- at Verda’s residence before Ember is done fuming.
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Cellulose & Steel