Ch4 Spruce Onions: The Mission’s Eve

[Important content warnings for this chapter: perceived death [no one dies], suicidal ideation, hostage situation, violence against captives, and hopelessness. These become applicable after the sentence "Something urgent was happening..."]

By breakfast's end, Niamh yet craved for more. She hadn't eaten as much as she possibly could - despite her wishes - at the behest of the surprisingly-benevolent plants feeding her.

Vera had assured Niamh that food was a guarantee here, and that it was best to pace herself. Despite this, she nonetheless felt compelled to eat until breaking point.

"Don't worry petal, you’re free to have more later, and the food won't go to waste. In fact, I think you'd rather enjoy seeing what becomes of it~" Fractalia said as she picked up some trays and walked over to the nearest wall.

The Affini placed the leftovers in a microwave oven-looking indentation in the wall. Then, with the press of a button, everything within vapourised with a gentle glow.

“This is called a compiler. It can do many things, with its primary function being to construct and break down items on a molecular level.” Vera explained.

“The matter from decompiled items gets reused later whenever it is told to make something new. For instance…” Fractalia typed something into her datapad, and a moment later, the compiler got to work assembling something inside itself.

The affini removed the freshly-made item and held it out for display. In their vines was a human-sized dress that featured a splotchy pattern, incorporating a shade of green matching Vera’s vines and a shade of violet matching Fractalia’s ‘hair’.

A muffled chortle drew Niamh’s attention back to Talia, who was trying hard to stifle a giggle.

“We figured this little demonstration could serve two birds with one scone, as it were.” Vera said. Niamh didn’t have the heart to tell her that was not the correct phrase. “Not only can we show you the compiler in action, but now you have a change of clothes too!”

Talia covered her mouth in a desperate attempt not to laugh.

“F-for me!?” Niamh shrunk back a bit. “B-but I’ve got clothes already…” She began to look at what she was wearing, but quickly stopped herself. She already knew what was there and she didn’t need to see it again.

“Nonsense petal, those clothes don’t even fit you! Not to mention how worn and dirty they are. Besides, you don’t like wearing them.” Vera stated firmly, as if it knew that for a fact. Niamh had no idea how she knew, but she was correct.

“Don’t worry flower, we’ll get you all cleaned up and then you can try it on!” Fractalia said enthusiastically.

At this, Talia burst into unrestrained laughter.

Niamh looked between the floret and three affini with a furrowed brow, then spoke up. “I- I can clean myself… And wh-what’s so funny?”

“My little cutie here can’t help but find Veralia’s flirting amusing.” Carrot answered. “And I can’t blame her! Darlings, you really aren’t subtle~”

Niamh’s cheeks warmed as she thought even harder. They were flirting? With her? And there was that name again - Veralia…

“You big goofballs!” Talia breathed as she tried to compose herself. “Niamh probably doesn’t even know what a companion dress is!”

Carrot and Talia giggled together.

“I… I suppose you’re right, petal…” Vera muttered, suddenly averting her gaze and coiling some of its vines into itself.

“...” Fractalia didn’t say anything, as they too became inexplicably sheepish.

“If you’re not going to tell her, then I will~” Talia teased with a sly grin.

“W-well…” Vera began.

“We just…” Fractalia added, but couldn’t say more.

Talia explained what the pair of Affini could - or would - not. “Companion dresses are designed to be comfy for the wearer, while accentuating their cuteness in the eyes of affini. As such, these are most commonly a part of floret outfits - and are in the same category as companion tops and companion trousers. Companion clothing often incorporates patterns and colours specific to the affini who own the floret - in this case, green that matches Vera and purple that matches Fray! Basically, this was how these dorks were trying to signal that they’re interested in you~”

“I-interested!? You mean…” Niamh’s cheeks got warmer.

“Hee hee, yep! They want you to be their floret~” Talia rested her cheeks on her knuckles, coyly glancing between the rescued human and her protectors.

“We’re not forcing you or anything! You don’t have to… if you don’t want…” Vera twiddled her thumbs.

Deciding to change the subject as soon as possible, Niamh tried to distract the plampts and herself from the idea of being floret-ified… “Uh, um… Wh-who’s Veralia? I’ve heard that name a couple times now…”

Thankfully, the affini didn’t press the subject of companion dresses and domestication. Instead, Fractalia and Vera simply gave each other a knowing look and began to intertwine their bodies! Niamh’s jaw dropped as she watched the two massive beings deconstruct their humanoid forms, weave their vines into each other’s, and reconstruct themselves as one entity. In a matter of moments, there was a truly giant amalgamation standing before her: a six-eyed humanoid form who looked as if they were wearing a snug, planty catsuit around a curvy form-figure.

Niamh’s face must have been completely and utterly flushed at the sight. She couldn’t prevent less-than-pure thoughts trickle into her mind like viscous tree sap.

That made her wonder if Affini… ‘ejected’… sap when they-

Niamh cut her thoughts short, giving her head a slight shake and squeezing her eyes shut.

“Tada!” The new figure exclaimed. “Veralia Caepe, Mixed Bloom, they/them! In this form, we’re two hearts as one!” Their voice carried both Fractalia’s and Vera’s pitches and vocal textures together in a harmonious blend. Moreover, the… vaguely musical vibe, or whatever it was, that radiated off of them felt similarly combined: it definitely felt like both affini mixed into each other, but together they made something distinct.

“...” Niamh was speechless.

“And if we want to…” Veralia said as their perfectly integrated body came undone and separated back into two different affini.

“...we can separate again just like that!” Vera and Fractalia said in unison.

One of Vera’s vines gently lifted Niamh’s jaw back into place. “Hee hee, careful flower, you’ll catch swims~”

“Vera dear, I believe the saying is ‘you’ll catch flies’.” Fractalia gently corrected.

“Ah, yes, that makes more sense…” Vera said in a tone that hinted it didn’t understand at all.

At that moment, the three present affini all began to beep. Or rather, it was revealed that their tablets were beeping once they were withdrawn from within their respective plampts - apparently they could just store items within themselves. The air of calm shattered in an instant. Something urgent was happening…

—

A sudden, unexpected hand on her knee jolted Linna out of her trance. She glanced discreetly to her right, where Pichati [pronounced 'pee-chaw-tee', he/him] was sitting next to her.

Pichati was a Rinan - a species whose visage evoked the comparison to Earthly squirrels. He had greyish-brown fur all over his body that was all greasy and matted. His tail, which would have been big and floofy had Pichati been allowed the means for basic hygiene, was curled up around him. His height was 3'5 - exceptionally tall for a Rinan, especially given how malnourished he was.

Pichati didn't say anything, but his gesture and the concerned look on his face said it all: 'I'm here. I'll stay with you. It'll be ok.'

Returning the gesture, Linna placed her hand atop Pichati's. But it felt hollow. Her heart wasn't in it at all. Honestly, Linna didn't even know if she had a heart anymore.

Everything felt so empty. Niamh was gone. Niamh was dead, and Linna may as well have been too.

All she could do was sit and wait for it to be her turn. Hopefully they'd pick her first when they began executing people. Then she could be with Niamh again… Then she could join her in the forever sleep. Then, maybe, they could finally find their shared peace together.

Each moment of consciousness prodded Linna to tempt her captors; to just get up, walk over to that sick fuck in the suit, and wail on him until they ended her.

But no. She couldn't.

Any action Linna took against those capitalist bastards would be met with punishment not just on her, but on the other hostages too. Linna wouldn't let there be collateral no matter how much she wanted to be reunited with Niamh. Wherever she was out there, Niamh would understand. She’d wait for her. She'd be proud, she was sure of it.

But she knew Niamh would want her to survive. Even though she was a pessimist, Niamh still believed it was worth it to live on in the hope of happiness.

Maybe Linna could still reach the point where she was simply glad to have survived. That's what Niamh had strived to live for.

The tears returned again. Linna was well practised in sobbing silently.

'I don't know what to do…' The same thought kept looping in her mind. 'I don't know what to do… I don't know what to do… I don't know what to do… I don't know what to do… I don't know what to do…'

A pained yelp from beside her once again brought her back from her thoughts. One of the capitalist grunts had kicked Pichati's arm away from her knee.

"Stay the fuck away from each other you little freaks!" The grunt then kicked the poor Rinan again, this time knocking him about a meter away.

"Fuck you." Linna muttered, not even turning to face the random grunt.

"What'd you say, bitch!?" He grabbed Linna by the shoulder and spun her to face him. "Say that to my face!"

Linna looked him in the eyes - something she usually hated doing, but did anyway in defiance of the grunt. "Fuck. You." Her chest got tighter. Shit. She hoped she hadn't just doomed the other hostages…

The grunt snarled viciously, wound up, and whacked Linna with the butt of his rifle. At that, everything went dark and still.

—

Vera, Fray, and Carrot were all rushing to the hangar to expedite their rescue efforts. The reconnaissance thorns had detected hostile action against the hostages and subsequently alerted the Affini.

Joint teams of affini from the Trojan Horse and Abiegnis, along with a handful of cooperative Terrans, worked frantically to finish preparations for their rescue mission. The two affini vessels had rendezvoused and docked such that two hangars became one.

Aboard the Vengeful Cobra had been a handful of cosmic navy crew members who were never truly loyal to the Terran Accord, but found themselves stuck serving under die-hard free-Terranist officers on a rogue ship. Those cuties eventually managed to covertly contact the Compact asking to be rescued, and that’s how they were saved. Now, those same kind, sweet, adorable Terrans had agreed to help the Affini rescue even more wayward sophonts.

It was of critical importance for the feralists to believe the Vengeful Cobra was still under their command. The affini couldn’t maintain audio and visual communications without blowing their cover, but they refused to bring any Terrans with them into danger - especially aboard such horrid death traps. As such, a replica of the Vengeful Cobra’s bridge had been constructed in one of the Abiegnis' hangars for the Terrans to establish communications with the feralist ships. Their transmissions would be relayed through the real Vengeful Cobra to the feralist ships, allowing for the Affini-filled ship to dock - hopefully - without even raising suspicion.

Moreover, since the Terran crew was more familiar with the Vengeful Cobra’s operations and controls, their replica bridge would also act just like the genuine article so they could fly the ship remotely. Not all of the bridge crew were so cooperative in this effort, but thankfully enough were prepared to help that the plan could, on paper at least, be carried out without issue.

As the trio arrived at the impromptu command center, they got their first glimpse of the Vengeful Cobra on the Trojan Horse half of the impromptu mega-hangar. It was as if depression and anxiety could be manifested into a tangible object: its somehow-rusted, patchwork hull looked ready to disintegrate; its weapons arrays were half-cannibalised to the point of questionable functionality; and its landing gear had given out despite the hangar being a microgravity environment.

The replica bridge, meanwhile, had been built in the Abiegnis half of the hangar. It looked equally as depressing, considering it was a one-to-one copy of the original down to the tiniest detail.

“We can’t wait much longer, Palma.” Vera heard Cutis say from the replica bridge as they passed by.

“Believe me, I know!” Palma barely rustled coherently, as her every vine was extended to perform a variety of tasks around the Terran bridge simultaneously.

Vera could tell the pair of docked ships had arrived at their hiding place in orbit of a gas giant by the simultaneous shudder of all the cuties running about the constructed bridge set. She was fascinated by the “kick” Terrans - and many other sophonts - felt when jumping through subspace, but she pushed that curiosity out of its mind for now. It couldn’t let her mind wander at such a critical time.

“Alright, I need to go prepare for reeling in today’s catch. Good luck, Vera.” Carrot wished it the best before rushing off to the Abiegnis’ bridge.

Then, Vera and Fray turned to each other. Nothing needed to be said. The two affini coiled each and every one of their vines around the other’s in the plampty equivalent of a hug.

Fractalia’s eyes were a pale amber colour, with frosty blue highlights fading inwards from his eyes’ edges. Concern and anxiety in solid amber. Yearning and disappointment in faded rings of light blue. Vera knew Fray - and his eyes - all too well.

The pair disentangled from each other and parted ways. As much as Fractalia wanted to join Vera on the rescue team, they both knew he couldn’t. Crocus Syndrome made Fray’s body weaker - and most critically, slower - than the vast majority of affini, making them ill suited for a hostage situation. Speed in particular could be the difference between disarming an attacker and a firearm being discharged on a poor cutie…

Still, it pained her to know that her lover - her other half - was disappointed with themself.

“Vera, there you are.” Borealis greeted frantically. “Now we’re just waiting on Jacaranda. This is the only functional way into the Vengeful Cobra, so watch your head.” Ve pointed to the tiny - even by Terran standards - hatch that was open on the side of the vessel.

After squeezing into the miniscule ship, Vera compacted her body as tightly as possible. When it really tried, she could hold her figure in a humanoid form just over seven feet tall, as opposed to her more natural twelve feet of height. Only a few minutes passed before Borealis and Jacaranda were aboard, at which point the horrifically inadequate engines roared to life. All systems were go - or at least, as go as they were going to get - and so were the rescue team. The other two Terran Cosmic Navy ships and the megayacht were confirmed to be in the system. The Abiegnis and Trojan Horse were prepared to swoop in once the hostages were secured. It was finally time to bring them home.