Cellulose & Steel | By : Not-Taylor Category: Misc Books > FemmeSlash Views: 985 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I don't own HDG or its characters and I don't make money from this work. |
“Let me go you stupid fucking weed!” She struggles against her restraints, desperate to get away, anywhere is better than here, wherever here is. She can hardly see through the tears of stress in her eyes and whichever chemicals she’d been pumped full of. Her wrists and ankles are connected to little loops on the frame of a large bed, and her neck is collared and leashed to something below, which Olivia can’t see. “I’m a free Terran, you stars damned xeno, and I will NOT succumb to your schemes! Earth stands!”
The plantlike alien across the room pauses her interactions with her portable computer to gaze sympathetically at her captive, prehensile vines curling about her inattentively. The human spits in her direction, bucking against the restraints. “You think I can’t take you, affini? Just try me when I’m not tied down or in a tank. That, or wait for my fleet to find you, and they’ll incinerate every last shred of your disgusting vines!”
With lightning speed, the Affini stretches a single tendril out toward the human, stopping millimeters from her face, and gently, softly, almost seemingly affectionately, booping her nose. That only makes her captive more furious, as she writhes against the restraints with all her might, roaring at her captor. “The Terran will is unbreakable. We will prevail, you walking kindling!”
The expression of the floral entity darkens and her vine goes limp. Olivia takes this as a sign of success and prepares for a tirade against the xeno menace, but the affini doesn’t give her the chance to begin. In a single coordinated movement, she rises from her chair and crosses the room, her tendrils pointing directly at the patriot tied to her bed. Olivia quiets at the sight, as the affini stands at least thrice her height with dozens of prehensile vines, many of which are covered in sharp thorns and others with pistils and spurs. She sees moisture drip from the tip of the one tiny flower directly in front of her face. She can’t help feeling so very small beneath this xeno, especially in her weakened and sweat drenched state.
“Your fleet? You must mean the ‘resistance.’ They have already been paired with caretakers. Soon yo-”
“Lying xeno filth! Dirt eater! They’re coming for me! I know they are!”
Before the woman’s rage can escalate, the xeno holds up a tablet showing the armory officer from Olivia’s ship. She goes quiet as the titanic plant flicks from one video feed to the next, showing the rest of the crew either in bonds like Olivia’s or in the uniforms of affini slaves- no, companions they were called? She recognizes one in particular, the ship’s navigator.
“Ginger, no…” Her fury breaks as she sees the human listlessly staring into space, dressed in a garish violet. It has to be xeno lies. Ginger was stronger than that!
“That’s a war crime, a human rights violation! You can’t just ignore your treaty and dom- kidnap people!”
“‘Treaty on the Methods, Limitations, and Procedures for Human Domestication, Section 43, Partition II. Any Terran ship operating outside of the jurisdiction and law of the Affini Compact is liable to seizure and its crew to social reintegration as described in Partition III. In the case of a ship that has utilized space weaponry against the Compact or its protectorates, this includes domestication as described in the Treaty’s appropriate section. All passengers and partisans aboard such ships are considered collaborators and combatants and shall be treated accordingly should they fail to promptly surrender upon capture. The Compact shall allow no special harm to those who reenter its authority in this way, with or without resistance.’
“You see? Our agreement authorizes your restoration to civilization, and from the look of you, you need it.” She gestured along Olivia’s body with her left hand blandly. The torn remnants of her interface suit clinging to her with the sweat of her fight against her captors certainly don’t give the impression of high culture and advancement.
“I am Verda Edok, fourth bloom, and I shall be your guardian, your owner, and your mistress.”
“I will never obey some blightridden xeno weed…” she trails off, noticing the quietly pitying expression of Verda’s analog of a face. Olivia throws herself against her restraints again for good measure as the reality of the situation starts to sink in.
As she sits up again, Olivia hears a sharp but quiet hiss, like an air compressor. Her wrist scratches against the soft interior of her wrist restraint. How does something soft scratch, the pilot starts to wonder as her vision shifts and the answer dawns on her.
“No no no…” she groans, somewhere between screaming and crying. She shudders and the cold of the air around her becomes increasingly tangible. “I can’t… This can’t…” Her words are barely formed as they leave her mouth. The xenodrugs start to flow through her system and she feels the warmth as they spread to her nerves at her extremities. Poison sumac, Olivia thinks to herself.
Verda looks her in her drooping eyes. “You don’t have a choice, darling.”
“Oh fuck, no.. This can’t be the end.” Olivia sinks into the devouring softness of the bed, unable to even cry. She tries to pull off her restraints, but it’s far too late even if she had the strength to do so. Her new guardian smiles over her, pleased at the rapidity of the medication.
“Poor thing, you must be so hungry to be affected so strongly. You’ll have as much as you’d like to eat soon enough. For now, let the xenodrugs do their work. You’ll feel better very soon.”
No, unacceptable, Olivia thinks. She leans forward as much as she can onto her elbows and loosely mumbles the words “I am a free Terran, I will never-”
“You’re adorable, my new pet. How lucky that the cutest human was the one to come into my possession.” She runs a vine across Olivia’s forehead, gently pushing against her and collapsing her back into the pillows. Even at full strength she would have been powerless against the xeno’s movement. There’s nothing she can do but end the battle- for now. Verda moved in closer, silently pressing herself to the side of the bed.
“There we are. I know all of this is very new for you, but you won’t have to be alone. You’ll always have me with you to keep you safe. Sleep, my ‘free terran.’ You’ll feel better after a little nap,” she says, running one of her vines along Olivia’s cheek and across her shoulder, moving her arm to a more comfortable position. Olivia attempts to object, but the sound caught in her throat is a soft groan. Even the groaning halts as the tendril crosses a missing patch in the suit. Perhaps because it had been a year or more since she had touched foliage of any kind, the alien woman’s touch feels good on her skin.
That touch also felt dysphoric, in a sense. As a pilot Olivia was used to spending long stretches immersed in a sensory deprivation tank where the sensors of her ship were overlaid on hers. She was used to feeling the thrum of her hyperdrives and the coolant flowing through her ducts. Olivia’s optic nerves had become used to seeing the entire electromagnetic spectrum in a full circle and feeling the returning ping of LIDAR against her hull. Like many pilots, she only felt truly whole when her engines revved at a neural twitch and the doors of her interior opened and shut in harmony. Others wouldn’t understand.
In Olivia’s case, the strain of the war had meant that she was forced to spend far longer than tolerable limits in the tank. On a smaller gunship like hers, there was no proper relief for the pilot. She had scarcely left in the two months preceding her capture. For now at least, her own skin and senses felt wrong and even the low gravity of the hab unit she was now in felt like standing on the surface of a gas giant. That has to be the cause of her present weakness, she’s certain.
When the vile xenos of the Affini Compact had jumped into Terra’s orbit, overpowering and crippling the Cosmic Navy’s main fleet in a single battle, no doubt with the help of spies and traitors weak enough to see captivity as desirable, they forced the government of the Terran Accord to sign away the freedom of all humans, condemning billions to lives as xeno’s pets. A “human domestication treaty” to end a “war of pacification.” Preposterous.
“Domestication” was what the Affini called the reduction of noble pioneers, explorers, and innovators, to the property of shrubs from another world: pets on leashes and dressed in ridiculous outfits as humiliating and the tutus that humans sometimes put on their pets. But humans are people! It was the end of capitalism and free enterprise, or as they called it “exploitation,” when it was simply safeguarding the liberties of hardworking terrans.
Olivia couldn’t trust the agents of a warmongering authoritarian state, especially of one that had fought the Battle of Terra without warning and unprovoked. Olivia had seen the videos of all the death that battle had wrought. That was what inspired her to lead a mutiny aboard her ship. Not that the captain was very interested in refusing his officers, but a few of the crew had wanted to surrender and their disloyalty had to be eliminated for the ship’s survival. Her ship had joined the Free Terran Rebellion, and had integrated into a strike group dedicated to attacking xeno transports to give the planetside resistance a chance.
They hadn’t had much of an opportunity to cause damage, as a capture fleet had been following them ever since. No matter how they swerved and what tricks of FtL navigation the fleet attempted, the Affini had never been out of senor range for more than a day. One by one, ships that were too slow or had propulsion malfunctions were chipped away from the fleet. Eventually, theirs was the only ship left. If not for her and Ginger’s skill and determination they would have been captured long before.
That was until one unfortunate day, when they were ambushed and Ginger was taken, along with another crew member. By then Olivia had been so long in the tank she didn’t remember the person’s name, not that she had the chance to feel bad for that. Since then, she had run navigation charts through her mind constantly, using the onboard computers to augment her meaty brain. They and she had never been designed for that, nor for such an intense field test. Her head ached at the missing tingle of Ginger’s thoughts running through her section of the processors. It still aches! Stars, she misses that feeling. By the end she felt no longer merely a pilot. Then, Olivia was the Song of Destruction!
But now that was over. She would be tortured, enslaved, killed, or turned into a mindless pet, probably for the perversion of some xeno cult. Maybe they would steal her knowledge to hunt down other free terrans. Olivia was sure she would never let that happen. She had to escape, has to escape.
Jolting back to the present, Olivia sees that she’s still restrained and still on the same enormous bed as before, pushed to one side and covered with a light blanket made of some unidentifiable fiber. As soon as she moves her head to look around, her shackles are gone and replaced by thick silky vines. They aren’t tight enough to hurt, but there’s clearly no escape. For now. Her skin feels alive at the sensation of the new restraints and her heart accelerates.
“There’s your beautiful face, pet. Did you find our bed sufficiently soft?”
Olivia grimaces. The bed was soft. “Pet.” Disgusting. Wait, what did she mean “our bed?” She looks toward the voice and there is movement. She smells a prickly scent and feels herself slowing down again as a leaf flutters across her view. The leaf had had more xenodrugs dusted on it. Escape. For Free Terra. Ginger. Olivia’s vision goes black.
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