Leigh’s eyes drifted open to early-morning light. Where…? Their eye caught the wall — not the spacer metal that OCNI was so fond of using, something different. This was textured, and it curved and flowed in ways the metal never did. What was this stuff?

As they puzzled over it, the fuzzy memory of yesterday drifted into their mind. The Affini had attacked Vulkan, but Leigh had made it out… right? No, that couldn’t be right. The aquaponics. The engineering bay. Captain Whittaker. Then… nothing. The more they tried to think further, the more the void in their memory pushed back. Frowning, Leigh let it go. They looked down at their body, covered by a tightly-knit blanket patterned with interlacing vines. That wasn’t normal.

Oh. They were aboard the Affini ship.

There was really no other explaination, but Leigh spent a minute confirming it anyway. The room was vaguely hexagonal, with the walls curving slightly around the corners. The construction materials weren’t anything Leigh had ever seen. The bed was impossibly soft, and the blanket was resisting movement more than intuition said it should. There wasn’t any Free Terran ship that Leigh had heard of nearby.

Well, then. 

Affini ship, meet Leigh. Leigh, Affini ship.

What was going on? Why were they so calm about this? Leigh tried to sit up and was immediately met with another puzzle — their body was… slow. Not that they couldn’t move, but the process of sitting was a gradual, smooth movement that felt almost enforced. They settled back down and gently wiggled their fingers. The slowness was there, too. They turned their hand over, and though it was a steady as ever, it looked like they were moving through molasses. Fascinated, they repeated the motion. And again. The dull shine of a small cuff shifted in the light. Hm. Leigh didn’t wear jewelry.

A sudden realization snapped them out of their hyperfocus — Widow was silent.

Widow was never silent. Sure, they’d shut up once they were satisfied with Leigh’s preparation for the day, but they were always there, whispering, predicting scenarios, drafting plans. Widow had been there, every waking moment, for years. 

Now, it was just Leigh.

The prospect really should have terrified them, but there was nothing. Their brain was wrapped in a soft haze, smothering any trace of fear out of their head. All that was left was a fuzzy almost-warmth. Widow would have called it dangerous.

Leigh reached for the blanket and folded it back, half-expecting some grotesque mutilation to reveal itself. Nothing. Their Ariadne isolation suit was gone, though, replaced with off-white, loose-fitting drawstring pants that matched their shirt. Soft, and just textured right. Comfortable. If this was prison, it had to have been the coziest prison ever constructed.

They slid out of the bed, narrowly avoiding a collision between their face and the floor as their balance swirled. Woah. Slowly, stumblingly, Leigh got their legs under them and looked around the room again. Behind them, one very large bed. The next wall held a door that was, in unfortunately familiar design, just slightly too large for human make. Keeping in theme, the wall next to that a too-high countertop with various unfamiliar appliances. The remaining walls were inlaid with windows and a transparent door with neatly-trimmed borders. Okay, orient themselves. That was step one, right?

Falteringly, Leigh stumbled over to the door, leaning their head against it. They sighed. Ah, where was Widow when you needed them? They loved this sort of thing, right? The live-fire puzzles. Maybe they’d finally decided they’d had enough. Was that even an option? It sure hadn’t seemed like it.

Leigh’s musings were interrupted by heavy footfalls, headed their way. They looked up, through the window, to where the sound was coming from. Affini, must be. Should they run? Hide? Leigh paused, then dismissed the idea out of hand. They could barely evade the Affini while at the top of their game, and the fuzziness coating their mind was more than enough to bring them down to effectively helpless.

“Well hello there, little one.”

Leigh blinked. Oh, it was here. They looked up, where a tall Affini bloomed in pale blues just on the other side of the glass. Its skin was a dark green, and three sets of shimmering blue eyes blinked from behind glasses. Wait, did Affini need glasses?

“Woah, focus on me a bit, mm?” Leigh zeroed back in as the Affini chuckled. “I didn’t expect you to be awake, let alone up. Mind telling me what’s going on?”

“Mm… just wanted to look around,” they replied with a half-shrug. They glanced around at the room again, eventually coming back to focus on the Affini. His leaves flowed gently, reminiscent of the creeping vines from home when the wind picked up. Leigh blinked. “Who are you?”

“My name is Act’all, Eighth Bloom, he/him. It’s a pleasure, little one.” His leaves rippled, casting little bits of light and shadow across his entire body. Leigh looked a little closer. “May I come in?”

“Oh!” They were blocking the door! Leigh quickly stepped aside, nearly tripping over their own feet in the process. When they recovered, Act’all was chuckling to himself again. Leigh noticed it was different, now, a little deeper than they had first noticed. A light, crisp laugh, but just beneath, a current of inhuman — a barely-audible whistle, like reeds played by the wind.

Woah. Leigh blinked, and Act’all was inside, turning away from them as he placed a small bag of supplies on the high countertop. The door swung shut, a subtle click locking it in place. Leigh glanced over at it. Hm. What would Widow think of this? Dangerous, obviously. They’d probably recommend dramatic action, some grand attempt at escape. Unlikely to succeed, but Widow never calculated the bad odds. Especially when they were about to gamble a last-ditch plan on them.

Leigh was staring again. A wave here, a flutter there, Leigh was sure they could find the pattern if they just looked a—

“Are you okay, there, little one?”

Leigh’s brain stuttered, and they blinked rapidly as they reoriented themselves. Act’all was facing them, now, a tabled curled in one vine that sprouted from his shoulder.

“Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s great that you’re up and about, but your compatriots tend to be a little more… animated?” Act’all shrugged.

Leigh opened their mouth. Paused. When they spoke, their voice was raspy. “Water?”

The Affini blinked, six eyes all showing surprise, before a mixture of apologetic and understanding cleared his face. “Oh, of course. My apologies, I should have had that ready for you.” He turned away, vines flowing out to mess with one of the devices on the counter. A second later, a glass of water was presented to Leigh, held in one stable vine. “Here you are, little one.”

Leigh grabbed at the glass, trying to get their fingers to cooperate. This should not have been so difficult. Eventually they settled for holding it with two hands, and promptly spilled it all over themselves when they went to drink.

“Oh, goodness. Here, just one moment,” Act’all said, busying himself with cleaning up the spill. “What did they even give you..?” His face turned back to the computer. “Stars above, who authorized that much class-E? Here, just a moment.”

Before Leigh could react, a dark green vine lashed out from Act’all’s foliage and stung them in the shoulder, an ice-cold sensation bursting out from the injection site. A bit of their brain fog cleared, almost instantly replaced by Widow’s voice. The situation is dire. Great. Welcome back. We must escape.

“… a little easier. Here you go.” Act’all had continued speaking even as Leigh’s faculties returned, and now another glass was held in front of them. They took it. It may be poisoned. Ridiculous. They wouldn’t be alive right now if the Affini wanted them dead, and even then, Act’all had shown that he had no qualms about drugging Leigh on the fly. He wouldn’t need to resort to subterfuge. They drained the glass.

The doctor smiled as his vines wiped away the last of the spill, and another came around to take the glass. “Better?”

Leigh nodded as Act’all whisked the glass away, their brow furrowed as they watched a particularly interesting whorl in his leaf layer. “Much better, thank you,” they absentmindedly replied.

What are you doing? Snap out of it! Focus!

Leigh blinked. “Well, with that out of the way,” Act’all was saying, “We can move on to the check-up. Go ahead and take a seat, I just have a few quick tests to run.”

Focus on my voice. Things are more dangerous than I thought. Let’s try to keep our wits about us, hm?

Fine, deal. Leigh had liked it better when Widow was quiet, but at least they were a shred of familiar in all this new. They hopped up on the bed while the doctor retrieved a small assortment of tools, many of whose functions Leigh could only guess at. One, with a wide flower bloomed in its center, was passed over their shoulder.

“Oh, good, it seems your arm has healed up nicely,” Act’all commented, and the machine chirped a confirmation. Oh, right! They’d been hit! Leigh tugged their shirt away and looked, half-expecting to feel a burst of pain just as they realized it, but there was nothing. Almost nothing, that was — a single bright violet bloomed out from their skin, and a thin network of green ran countercurrent to their own veins around the once-wound. Still, it didn’t hurt. 

The lack of pain does not deflect the fact that there is a plant growing in our skin.

Methods aside, even top-notch Autodocs couldn’t heal so well, and Widow knew it. “I, uh. Thank you,” they said, a faint feeling of awe crowding out the fuzziness. Who said anything about dangerous, this was cool! They gently flexed their arm, and there wasn’t even a twinge of pain. Incredible!

“You’re most welcome. Now, how about we make sure your internal vitals are looking just as good.” Act’all smiled as his leaves rippled and a pair of needle-tipped flowers came to bear. Leigh just watched in fascination.

Widow quickly came to terms with the fact that they were not in control of this situation. Leigh’s body and mind were fighting them, and something about that Affini was dangerous. Leigh couldn’t even seem to look away. It was all Widow could do to keep them at least a little on-track. Their brain may have been fuzzy, but they had experience drafting plans while concussed. This wouldn’t be much more difficult.

Step one. Orient yourself. They were on-board the Affini ship, in a hospital-slash-prison. The door was locked. The doctor- er, veterinarian, by his own description, was at least reasonably professional, and didn’t seem interested in harming them. That was good. That was an asset. Widow could have done without the ‘little one’ and the ‘cutie’ remarks, but it beat torture, and hopefully, playing along would get them more information than being antagonistic.

Act’all had switched out his tool, now, setting the scanner to one side and quickly filling in information on his tablet. Widow spoke up. “So, uh… what exactly are you recording? It’s not…” It wasn’t standard procedure to care for captures. Interrogation, imprisonment for the high-value targets, execution for the rest. No witnesses. In and out.

“Mm? Oh, just a quick description of your injury and treatment. It’s important to have a well-detailed medical record, don’t you agree?” The veterinarian smiled again, and a burst of motion captured Leigh’s attention once more, pulling them into the ripping patterns across the plant’s body.

“Yes-” Damn it! “Well, I mean, I guess it is.” Widow grimaced as they got themselves back under control. “I- we never really cared about the injuries.”

Act’all peered at them from over his glasses, eyes scrutinizing their face. “No, I suppose not. Your records are certainly… lacking, though at least the more recent receipts are in order.” He turned away, feeding a small vial of Leigh’s blood into yet another machine.

“Receipts?” What damn receipts?

“Emi, bless it, has been recording every bit of care you received for the past Terran standard year. Why, the first thing it asked for was a subnet connection to send them off. Someplace called Ichor, if I remember correctly.” Act’all returned to the tablet and continued to type, even as Leigh-Widow’s thoughts raced.

Oh, god, Emi. Leigh’s heart sank. What had happened to it? The only other living thing on the station, and they had abandoned it. Had the Affini deconstructed it? Where was it?

Widow pointedly ignored Leigh’s worries in favor of their own. The Affini have access to Terran files. Incomplete, classified, it doesn’t matter. If they want to know something, they’ll find it. We need to get out of here.

“The poor little thing could hardly believe when we told it that Ichor no longer exists. I thought it was going to overload. Adorable, if you ask me.”

Stall for time. I’ll be right back.

“Uh, where is Emi? Is- is it okay?” Leigh’s voice cracked.

“Oh, yes of course! It’s getting acclimated, I believe Cynthus is -ahem- showing it the ropes,” Act’all said with a smirk. “Still, Emi will be more than okay. Would you like to see it?” His leaves flitted invitingly, and Leigh’s answer rose quickly, easily.

“Please?”

That set Act’all’s leaves fluttering. “Oh, too cute. Of course, little one. I’ll arrange for that, just after we finish up here.”

Very good to know, Widow thought. Keep playing along. I’ll be listening.

“Deal. And, um. Where is here?”

Act’all paused, then laughed. “This is the Affini special cruiser Leuteria. You’re in the veterinary ward. So sorry, little one, it seems my mind was elsewhere. I hardly gave you a proper introduction, did I. Is there anything else I can… clarify for you?”

Was he… threatening them? No, not quite. Leigh ground to a halt as they realized. The veterinarian’s voice was decidedly suggestive, and the way his leaves rippled gave Leigh a sensation like they were falling headfirst into the Affini. And they couldn’t look away, and the fog in their brain was making it hard to think straight and—

Ba-Ding! The blood-work machine from earlier chimed, and Act’all mercifully turned away. “There we go! Let’s take a look, here…”

Leigh fumbled for some mental thread of coherence, their face flushed. You did not just get turned on by a plant. Widow’s voice mocked. Leigh thought nothing. Okay, that’s enough. Take a step back, I’ll handle us from here.

Grateful, Leigh faded as Widow straightened up. Okay, find your footing. Understand the problem. Gain the upper hand.

Act’all looked at them curiously, handing the readout off to one of their secondary vines. “I’m impressed, little one. You’re… really quite healthy, all things considered.”

Widow shrugged. “I take good care of myself. How does your machine know?”

“We have veterinary science down to, well, a science,” Act’all replied. “It’s exceedingly important to us.”

“Veterinary?” Widow pressed. It could be a mistranslation, but Widow suspected otherwise. Their mind briefly recalled the bizarre propaganda they’d happened upon in the early days of the war, those videos that had started to pour in from the outer channels, with glassy-eyed Terrans adorned with collars. The plantfuckers. Perhaps they were more aptly named than Widow had originally realized.

Act’all half-smirked, and Widow could practically feel the smugness rippling off the Affini. “Yes. Veterinary.”

Widow hesitated. Did they really want to go down that path? Not really. Let’s get our bearings first. “You never answered my question. How does the machine work?”

The veterinarian’s smirk turned into a grin, and his leaves rippled in excitement — whether that was about winning their verbal spar or getting to talk about the box, Widow wasn’t sure.

“To tell you the truth, I don’t know the specifics. But Terran blood in particular is very easy to read. It was one of the first milestones our cotyledon program reached with your species.”

Cotyledon… a first contact procedure? Covert? Must’ve been. Fuck, they’ve been ahead from the very beginning. Widow’s estimation of their odds was slimming rapidly. Even if they could escape… where would they go?

Widow cut themselves off from that line of thinking. One problem at a time. Here and now. Act’all had set the blood work aside, instead picking up yet another scanner — this one oddly reminiscent of an old Terran fever-gun. “Okay, what’s that?”

“It’s not unlike Terran ultrasound,” Act’all replied, bringing it to Widow’s uninjured shoulder. “Though I believe we Affini perfected the process.”

A moment later, Widow felt a bizarre sensation, like every cell in their shoulder had decided to vibrate in place, in sync. Widow hadn’t ever really wanted to know what the interior of their shoulder socket felt like. Now that they did, they weren’t exactly sold on the feeling.

Through the scanning, Widow realized something. “You studied Terran medicine,” they accused.

“I have,” Act’all replied, passing the scanner down the length of their arm as another vine scribbled notes.

“Why?”

The scanner paused, then continued on to their hand. “Well, while it isn’t part of the required reading, I thought I should. You can learn a lot about a culture by how they heal their sick and injured.”

That response raised more questions than answers. Required reading? On Terrans? Who wrote that? How many species has this plant even seen? How old could the Affini even get?

“What do you think of us?”

The scanner was midway down Widow’s back when it paused again. Act’all looked curiously at the Terran. When he spoke, it was quiet, almost somber. There was no inviting glitter in his eyes, no rhythmic flutter to his foliage. “That, too often, you valued money more than life. A tragedy.”

Widow wished they had some retort. Some justification, some excuse, something, anything, to say. They drew blanks across the board, and the remainder of the scan passed in silence. Finally, Act’all finished writing his last note and set the tablet aside. He sat in front of Widow, who hadn’t much moved, and gently nudged them. “It is okay, now, Leigh. The Compact is here, and, well… we’ve done away with all of that.”

Widow looked back at Act’all, silent. The veterinarian continued. “It’s… a lot. I know. I’ll leave you some time to process. We can discuss more tomorrow, hm?”

It took an immense mental effort, but Widow mentally shook themselves back to reality, then nodded. Yes. Time. They nodded again, more emphatically. Act’all pressed on. 

“From your files, it does seem like you can handle your own hygiene and food for the night. I can prepare the hab to support you individually, or if you would prefer, I could always provide some assistance.” 

Widow raised an eyebrow at the return of Act’all’s flirtatious tone and the infinite lurking horrors that certainly accompanied his ‘assistance’.

“I- no, no. We- I- I can manage. But I don’t exactly see a stovetop around here.”

Act’all sighed in an exaggerated show of dismay, his leaves flapping in a cascade. “Well, in that case. The matter compiler is up on the counter, as well as a preserver. I’ll get you some movement aids,” he said, tapping on his tablet that had once again materialized into his hand. “In the meantime, go ahead and get familiar with the amenities. I’ve unlocked the doors you need access to, and everything is labeled. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

To his credit, Act’all did leave without any further torment, packing up his tools and equipments and locking the door behind him. Widow watched as he walked away, noting how his feet seemed to dissolve into their constituent vines once meeting the ground, so he flowed just as much as he walked. Why was everything about the Affini somehow mesmerizing?

Widow turned back to their hab. Prison or no, it was far better furnished than any lodging they’d ever had. Still, no time to waste. They got to work.

Act’all’s eye caught Thern quickly, the armored Affini waiting a few dozen meters away. Oh, this would be good. The captain raised a hand.

“Act’all! I hoped I might run into you.”

“And I you, Captain.”

“Please. We aren’t on the bridge.”

“So you say, Captain.” Act’all grinned. “Come on, walk with me, I’ll tell you all about them.”

“I’m appalled you find me so shallow,” Thern replied dryly. “Can a captain not check in on his crew?”

“Not when a floret’s involved.” Act’all smirked as Thern raised his hands in mild surrender. “I can’t claim all the credit, though. Althea told me about it as soon as she came aboard.”

The two walked out of the hall, crossing a large combination garden, park, and courtyard that capped the medical ward.

“They’re an enigma, to tell you the truth,” Act’all said, slipping into the Affini tongue. “If this had been my first impression of them, I wouldn’t even recommend compulsory domestication. Their health is almost flawless, at least at a first look. And believe me, you can learn a lot from a first look.”

“It’s more than that, though.”

“It is. I —rot, how do I say this best—” Act’all swore, took a breath before continuing. “I was already worried. I’ve seen their handiwork, Barrik, when they brought in Lycola. But at least they were a known quantity. Then, I hear about the shock you put them through. That may well have done them in, frankly, and I half-expected to find the most terrified Terran in the system in that cell.”

The two stepped in a lift, and Act’all paused as the gate shut. After a moment, it slid to life.

“Apologies for that worry, Act’all. I administered a little class-B on the ground to avoid that, but of course Althea wouldn’t have seen that. I should have filed you that action report sooner.”

“See, I tell you that these things are important—” Act’all jabbed a finger at Thern, who raised his hands with a slight chuckle. The doctor shook his head, exasperated. “At any rate. It gets worse, because I head in there and I don’t see either of them.”

The lift opened, letting the two out to a larger compiler serving the medical ward.

“Instead, I meet what looks, sounds, and acts like the most well-adjusted Terran I’ve ever seen. Especially knowing their history, I can’t believe it.”

“Could they be trying to hide it?”

“Unlikely, near impossibly. It’s not like they could fake the blood draw and know how to manipulate their own biorhythm. There are cracks, I’m sure there will be, but there are always cracks if you look hard enough.”

“It’s not the way they are,” Thern started.

“It’s that I don’t understand how it happened,” Act’all finished, nodding. The compiler whirred behind them, dragging small kits of bamboo into existence. Cinnamon-scented smoke drifted out from the compiling surface.

“It is… only the first day, Act’all. Take your time.”

“You’re… you’re right. And there is no rush. But these puzzles can be worrying.”

The compiler slowed to a stop, ringing a quick chime.

“I like to think of them as exciting,” the captain countered, taking one of the kits. “Either way, the essence is the same. We’ll untangle them soon enough.” 

Act’all made a conflicted noise. “Hm. At least they trance easily.”

Most of the return passage passed quietly, only breaking when they stepped back into the medical ward.

“We’re staying in the system for a few more days. I haven’t received any letter that suggest you want to transfer planetside,” Thern said. “Willing to endure me for another season?”

Act’all snorted. “Please. As though you lunatics would survive a week without me.”

They stopped at Leigh’s hab, and Thern handed their movement kit to Act’all’s offered vine. “Glad to hear it,” they smiled. “Until next time, then. As always, let me know of any updates.”

“Ah, go get on with your paperwork. I’ve got a dangerous feral to go enable.”

The dangerous feral in question didn’t actually seem to need enabling, as they sat happily munching on a massive plate of spaghetti while sitting on the counter. Widow worried about the oddly familiar armored Affini that was talking with Act’all just outside their cell, words indecipherable, while Leigh speared a meatball and devoured it in truly grisly fashion. Hey, they’d been living on aquaponics for a year. They had earned this spaghetti, and they were going to enjoy it.

Since Act’all had left, Widow had mentally mapped every square inch of their new living space (there was a small loose panel between the entry wall and the bed), read every label on every product in the suspiciously-large bathtub (and scent-tested quite a few), and drafted and discarded a dozen ideas for escape before finally relenting and scaling the counter. A compiler… the veterinarian had seemed to pull the water out of nowhere. Ah-hah. A few minutes of fiddling with the voice-activated machine and Widow had whipped up a full bowl of spaghetti and meatballs.

Leigh had returned at some point between plans eight and ten, though they pointedly refused to discuss Act’all’s… influence on them. Still, Widow relaxed a bit. They appreciated the company, and Leigh always enjoyed meals more than Widow did. They’d cede more control as the night went on. They had plans to draft, possibilities to consider, and information to sort through, and they preferred to fall back and let Leigh take care of the domestics. They’d scheme in the background.

Act’all was back, and Widow took some lasting delight in the confused hurrying the Affini made before spotting them atop the counter entirely too proud for the situation.

“How did you even get up there?”

Leigh chuckled, shrugged.

Act’all shook his head. “Incredible. Well, I’ll get these set up and let you be. Is there anything else you need before I go?”

Leigh thought for a moment before shaking their head. “Nah, I’ll be alright.”

The veterinarian nodded. “Sounds good. The medical cuff will alert me in case of any emergency, but otherwise you can call me through your hab. Voice activated. Say hello, hab.”

“Hello, Act’all. Hello, cutie! Welcome aboard!”

Act’all paused for a moment, making a mental tally. He nodded. “Then, well, I believe that’s all! It was a pleasure, Leigh. Don’t hesitate to call.”

And just like that, he was gone.

Leigh took a few minutes to eat, feeling the last of the drugs wear off. They were back to total control of their faculties, and though their status as a prisoner of war — well, captured rebel may have been more accurate — was daunting, they’d worked through the terror before it even had a chance to surface. At the end of they day, the awe of what little they’d seen outweighed the fear. Thankfully, Widow had absorbed enough information to keep them busy — though they were sure that once the plans ran out, the anxieties would creep in.

Leigh placed the empty plate in the compiler, where it vanished in a cinnamon-scented cloud. Okay, then. Teeth and bed, Leigh supposed. Widow could scheme some more while they fell asleep.

The mobility aids were greatly appreciated; to be honest, Leigh didn’t have the faintest idea how they’d ended up atop the counter, and Widow wasn’t exactly offering pointers. Leigh landed on the floor, relishing again in just how stars-damned soft it was, before moving on to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, their head hit the pillow, and the last thought that ran through their head was just how cozy the Affini had managed to make their sheets.