No Gods, No Masters

Chapter 6

by Kanagen

Tags: #cw:noncon #D/s #f/f #f/nb #Human_Domestication_Guide #hypnosis #scifi #dom:internalized_imperialism #dom:nb #drug_play #drugs #ownership_dynamics #slow_burn
See spoiler tags : #dom:female

In which a meeting takes place and some illusions are shattered. 

<PropagandaOfTheDeed> Hiiiii!!! im the hot lady you saw in the grocery!!!! hope ur thinkin of me cause i kno who im thinkin of!!!! 
<random_seed> Oh stars hi!!!! i was just thinkin of u how did u kno????? ;) 
<random_seed> I made grilled cheese and mistress said I did a good job even though it took me three tries to not burn it!!! i love her she's so perfect ;_; 
<random_seed> Cassie oms ur ghostin meeeeee ;_; 
<random_seed> Here lies leah, rip, slain by cassie who ghosted her
<random_seed> (Jk im fine im not really dead!!! im sorry if you were worried!!!) 
<PropagandaOfTheDeed> Sorry, I was cooking, and then I had to meet with my comrades. 
<random_seed> Aaaaa cassie cassie hi!!!! MIstresss jsut dosed me so i might not be 2 cohernt!!!
<random_seed> But im so happy to hear from u aaaaaaa!!!!
<random_seed> Did u make ur shakssha thingy????
<PropagandaOfTheDeed> Shakshouka, and yes. 
<random_seed> Shakshouka!!!! i kno its probly the class a im on rn but thats such a fun word tto say. shaaaak shoooouuuu kaaaaaaa
<PropagandaOfTheDeed> Are you alright? 
<random_seed> Im fine this isn't even a bigg dose!!!! and Mistress is here shell take care of me if anything happens
<random_seed> And it wont because nothin bad evr happens when Mistress is here
<random_seed> She wont let it
<random_seed> I love her so much shes the best 
<random_seed> At least i think so im sure you think ur Mistressis the best 2
<PropagandaOfTheDeed> I'm not a pet, remember? 
<random_seed> oms i forgot!!! dont worry tho youll find someone!!! or shell find u
<random_seed> Theyre good at that they always kno when u need them, they can smell it i think
<random_seed> I bet it smells like cake or ice cream or somethin nice
<random_seed> Aaaa i want ice cream we should get ice cream 2gethr!!!! 
<PropagandaOfTheDeed> I'm not sure you're okay to go out if you're this high, are you? 
<random_seed> Im fine!!!! it is almost my bedtime tho and Mistress is real strict abt that
<random_seed> Ice cream tomorrow then!!!! 
<random_seed> Cassie hello leah calling cassie!!!!
<random_seed> Ice cream cassie!!!!!! mayday mayday!!! dont ghost me again!!!!!
<PropagandaOfTheDeed> I'm walking home, calm down. 
<random_seed> Ice cream!!!!!
<PropagandaOfTheDeed> We'll see, okay? I just got a message about a meeting with the captain of your ship tomorrow, and I don't know how long that's going to take. 
<random_seed> OMs u get to meet the captain??? thts so cool!!!! 

The meeting space was a rounded chamber lined with broad petals that slowly shifted in hue, lending a calming air to the circle of soft cushions and low seats arranged in a ring around the middle. A projector mounted in the domed ceiling cast an immaculately detailed representation of Solstice surrounded by an orbital cloud of overlays, data sheets, and the like. A single mote of light, representing the Tillandsia, hung suspended above it, its orbit tracked in real-time.

“You know, from here, you wouldn’t know it’s so cold down there.” Polyphylla gave a full-body shiver that ended with her now-much-shorter mane of red blossoms – she’d lost a fair few to frost and was still in the process of regrowing them.

“Mmm. You can measure the percentage of the surface covered in glaciers and snow – really, just take the average albedo – and then cross-reference the orbital period and history along with a loose survey of atmospheric composition to inform a fairly accurate temperature model,” Tsuga said. “But, yes, it doesn’t look so cold from here. I’m glad to see you up and about, though.”

“It was quite the ordeal,” Polyphylla said, “but I’m glad I went nevertheless. My work with the terrans on Earth was almost entirely logistical, you know? I barely got down to the surface at all, and it was quite the uphill race to convince the Coordinators to let me take charge of the welcoming committee…which of course has blossomed into such a lovely opportunity in and of itself! I’m learning so much about terrans thanks to these cuties. And having an extended negotiation process?” Her foliage shifted happily, curling about like it was following a swift-moving invisible sun.

“It’s certainly not what I was expecting,” Tsuga stared down at the holographic model, mentally running down a checklist of surface features they wanted to catalog in person.

“Oh? I was given to understand you and Cass were getting along very well,” Polyphylla said, sidling up beside Tsuga. “Hmm. Have you made some changes? Your face looks a bit different.”

“I reconstructed it,” Tsuga said, not wanting to admit that they’d taken the masklike agglomeration of bark they’d been using for a face to pieces in the middle of their fit. It had taken them some hours to regain their composure following the descent into blooms-old memory, shaded by time but fixed in the firmament of their mind – hours, after which they forced themself back into a terranoid shape and began to clean up the needles they’d stress-shed all over their hab during their breakdown. “I’ve observed Cass speaking and emoting, and I don’t think my first attempt at a face was particularly good. I was just copying you when I shaped it.”

“Well, it’s a subtle enough difference, but I like it. What I like isn’t important, though – what did Cass say, hmm?” She made an expression with the microvines around her eyes, a fluttering motion that reminded Tsuga of wings emerging from beneath chitin. It was, if memory served, a sort of rhetorical teasing gesture.

“She didn’t say anything,” Tsuga said, confused. “In fact, I discouraged her from looking at my eyes, so she may not have even noticed.”

Polyphylla’s foliage drooped as if she were wilting again, an obvious expression of confusion. “Why in the Everbloom’s name would you do that?”

“So I don’t accidentally enthrall her,” Tsuga said, “because she doesn’t want to be my pet.”

“Oh Tsuga, don’t be silly,” she replied, a dozen or more of her vines slipping around Tsuga’s arm and gently probing for openings to wind themselves into their integument in a friendly manner. “Just let what happens happen! If she’s meant to be yours, everything will fall right into place, and if she’s not, well, a little fascination here and there isn’t going to change things.”

Tsuga let out a toneless grumble and reluctantly shifted their bark to allow Polyphylla’s vines in, making a token effort at probing her in return, lest Polyphylla think something was wrong. “I don’t think we’d be a good match, anyway.”

“I think you’re feeling those anxieties again,” Polyphylla said gently. “And that’s alright. We all feel those anxieties from time to time, Tsuga. You have no idea how many times I questioned my own fitness early on. But like I said the first time we talked about this: caring for other sophonts is written into every cell in our bodies. You’re no exception to that. I’m sure Cass is very, very happy with you, far happier than she was living in that awful hole in the ground.”

“I don’t think she likes me very much.” Tsuga let a little of their feelings show, a drooping in their upper branches. “I don’t seem to be able to break through her shell. Every time I try to do the sorts of things all the primers say, it goes horribly wrong. She didn’t like the bed, she didn’t like the cute clothes, she didn’t like the food I cooked for her, she doesn’t like affectionate gestures from anyone…”

“The primers, I’ve found, are a starting point at best. Every terran, and really every sophont, is a unique little puzzle to solve. That’s the fun of domestication! Tell me this, what does Cass like? What makes her face light up? What does she show interest in?”

“… terran politics, mostly. She quotes philosophers at length. Berkman, Kropotkin, Goldman. I have no idea who any of them are, but she sets great store by their thoughts, though she also much loves to point out their errors or misunderstandings. I feel as though every time she tries to explain her anarchism to me, I understand it less.”

“The curious ones are so adorable, aren’t they?”

“They are,” Tsuga admitted. “But it leaves me feeling completely befuddled. Do you have any advice about this anarchism thing?”

“Well, I’ve been reading Marx after Nell brought the subject up, and it’s quite dense. It hasn’t had anything to say about that yet. It mostly seems concerned with linen. I do know what use-values and trade-values are now, though, so that’s progress, I suppose. Maybe you should start reading those philosophers of hers, and perhaps we’ll meet in the middle?”

“It’s worth trying, but–” Tsuga paused as the door slid open and Pisca strode excitedly in, the three terrans following in her wake. Tsuga’s eyes immediately sought out Cass – there, in her jacket that she seemed unnaturally attached to, and that was now at least somewhat cleaner than it had been. They ran down the checklist they’d memorized for gauging terran welfare, noted the pallor of her skin, the gloss and shape of her hair, her posture, her facial expression. She seemed well. Nothing terrible happened in the last few hours, then.

“Hey! Who’s ready for a meeting?” Pisca’s needles were all upswept, practically vibrating with excitement. “I can’t believe we get to see the Captain again already!”

“This time, I suggest you pause for three seconds to fully compose your thoughts before speaking up,” Tsuga said. “Did you finish the atmospherics report?”

“I did, and it’s been appropriately filed! Lots of nasty fine particulates still lingering in the stratosphere and refusing to coagulate, bleh.”

“Well, I’m sure we know how to fix that,” Polyphylla said cheerfully. raising her voice just a little so all the terrans could hear – Nell and Cass had both paused near the holographic displays in the center of the room, while Blaine had followed Pisca to one of the low cushions and was now sitting between her and Polyphylla. Progress, Tsuga thought. It was very sweet to watch.

“Really?” he said. “So… you can fix the climate, just like that?”

“It will take some time to compile the appropriate payload, of course,” Tsuga said. “Detailed study of particulate composition, chemical tailoring to ensure proper coagulation and precipitation, all while ensuring said agent doesn’t damage the ecosystem in its own right. And that’s merely the first step to a more holistic ecological remediation. But yes, we’ll fix this world.”

“Seems to me none of that requires us to leave,” Nell said, turning away from the holograms and crossing her arms. This, Tsuga knew, was a terran gesture of insubordination – frequently employed, according to the literature, when the terran in question felt they weren’t getting enough attention. Somehow, Tsuga didn’t think that fit Nell at the moment.

“It’s going to be the work of some years, at a minimum,” Tsuga added.

“During which we simply can’t allow you to languish in such miserable conditions.” Polyphylla disengaged herself from Tsuga vine by vine and focused her full attention on Nell. “From each according to their ability, and to each according to their need – this is, as I understand it, your creed. We are able to help, and you need help. How is this undesirable?”

“The welfare of the people in particular has always been the alibi of tyrants,” Cass said, not looking away from the holographic data sheets.

“Are you actually going to help me with this, or are you going to just quote people who have been dead for centuries and pretend that’s helping?” Nell grumbled over her shoulder at Cass.

“Like your body, your mind also gets tired; therefore, refresh it with wise sayings,” Cass replied. Her eyes were fixed on the holographic globe, now.

“Uuugh. Fuck you.” She turned back to Polyphylla. “Look, logistics is my specialty. We’ve survived for three years down there just fine, and even without your help we’d continue to survive just fine – especially now that we don’t need to waste resources keeping an eye out for a counter-revolutionary invasion!”

Tsuga knew this was not precisely true. They had seen the figures both from Polyphylla’s initial report, Arvense’s study of the trio’s blood chemistry, and the reports that were filtering in from the teams on the ground, and it was clear that, at least as far as the terrans at that horrible Bulwark place were concerned, they were all malnourished and the outlook without intensive intervention wasn’t a good one.

“Your conception of an acceptable level of survival does not match ours,” Polyphylla said, as gently as she could. “You are putting yourself through unnecessary suffering, and we cannot allow that.”

“So give us compilers and get out of our hair,” Nell said. “We’ll manufacture everything we need on our own, and you can go do whatever it is you do elsewhere! Problem solved!”

“Oh, are we solving problems already?” When Tsuga looked up, they saw the Captain standing in the entryway, eir biorhythms suppressed to a subtle level. How long had e been watching, they wondered? “Well, well, maybe I didn’t need to turn up here after all. But then I’d miss out on all the fun, wouldn’t I?” In their peripheral vision, Tsuga saw Pisca’s needles bristle with barely contained excitement. If she wasn’t careful, she’d start dropping them.

Nell gave a start at the sound of the Captain’s voice, but quickly composed herself and turned to face em. “You the Captain?”

“I am indeed,” Andoa said, wearing a broad smile across eir moss-streaked face. “Andoa Macranthera. Pronouns: e/em/eirs. Captain of the good ship Tillandsia.” E gave each of the terrans a gracious nod, perfectly replicating the gesture, and lingering just a moment longer on Blaine than the others. No doubt the Captain’s experience with terrans made his seed-ish nature impossible to miss.

“Good, finally, someone with authority,” Nell said. “Listen, these three don’t seem to get that we’re perfectly capable of running Solstice all by ourselves. We’re happy to accept compilers and technical manuals as aid, one comrade to another, but that’s it. We don’t need superv–”

“You haven’t given me your name, petal,” Andoa said, eir smile unchanged but eir biorhythms ramping up suddenly. Nell was pinioned on the spot, the words caught in her throat for just a moment. Tsuga was duly impressed – it was a slick move. If they thought they might ever have a use for it, they’d have to copy it. Finally, Nell managed to stammer out a response.

“Nell Cookson,” she said, staring up at Andoa for a long few seconds before she shook her head and looked away. “And don’t do that.”

“Whyever not?” Eir fronds coiled in amusement. Even Tsuga could tell e was playing with Nell like – oh, what was the terran phrase? The way a horse plays with its prey? Something like that. “You certainly seemed to like it.”

“Because that’s not how you treat someone who’s come to negotiate as equals!” Nell said, gritting her teeth and clenching her fists. “I know you’re used to the terrans you have on board, who are so doped up they can’t see straight and who do whatever you want, but that’s not us, and you need to treat this seriously!” Everbloom, Tsuga thought, she is really cute when she’s angry. She’d better be careful.

“My apologies,” Andoa said, all six of eir eyes fixing on Nell. “I must be out of practice. It’s so rare for the Affini to meet with equals.”

“We’re well aware of the technological gulf between us,” Cass said before Nell could respond. She was still staring at the displays in the center of the room. Tsuga had assumed that she’d simply been absorbed by the sheer level of detail – it was certainly something they could empathize with – but apparently she’d been paying attention after all. “But a technological gulf does not imply a gulf of legitimacy.”

“Ah, and you must be the famous Cass,” Andoa said. “Tsuga has told me all about you. It’s very nice to meet you, Captain to Captain.” E gave her another subtle nod.

“Likewise,” Cass said flatly. “Nell can go into detail about what supplies we need, but her overview is accurate. We need compilers and technical know-how; advisers in limited number are acceptable, at least until we figure out how to work everything on our own. Anything further will have to wait for consultation with other communities.”

“Mmm, I see, I see,” Andoa said. E used the chin-rubbing I’m-thinking gesture. “It seems unnecessarily complicated, to be perfectly honest. Why are you so opposed to accepting help? And, forgive me, but…why would you want to stay on a frozen slushball like this?”

“Because it’s our frozen slushball,” Cass said.

“We fought to make it free, and thousands of our comrades died to make that dream a reality,” Nell added. “Tens of thousands! We’re not leaving, not for anyone. They didn’t make the ultimate sacrifice so we could trade one bourgeois oppressor for another!”

Andoa was silent for a moment, and Tsuga could see eir fronds twisting. Annoyance? “You think us oppressive, having spent less than a week among us? I think I know where your misconception arises, though. Would you agree, Polyphylla?”

“Well, I haven’t spent a great deal of time with Nell for health reasons,” Polyphylla replied, “but from what I’ve heard, and from my time on the surface, these terrans do have quite a few reservations about domestication.”

“Which is not particularly unusual for terrans,” Andoa continued, “given the overall state of your society and culture. Your hoarding impulse in particular will likely take some time to help you overcome, but we are very, very patient.”

Nell glanced at Cass, and Cass finally looked away from the displays, her thick eye-fur bunching up together. Cass spoke first: “Did no one tell you that we’re communists too?”

“I believe I read something of that in the report, but I assumed it was a joke of some kind – every other terran I’ve ever had the good fortune to encounter usually articulates practically any word beginning with ‘commu-’ with no small amount of venom.”

“You’re venomous?!” Pisca said, leaning over Blaine. “That’s amazing! I didn’t know that!”

“Wh-what? No!” he said, his eyes going very wide. Ah. Awe response. Tsuga felt a warmth inside her core on Blaine’s behalf – he was surprisingly close already, even for such a seed.

“Hence why we fought a war against them,” Cass said, ignoring the outburst. “We want the same thing you do – for everyone to receive what they need, and for none to suffer or be exploited. Our goals are perfectly aligned. You don’t need to expend effort on us. Just give us the tools, and we’ll do it ourselves.”

“…well,” Andoa said, eir smile growing wider and revealing eir thorny teeth. “This meeting was worth my time. That’s a novel argument from a terran!” E laughed and knelt down, eir face on a level with Cass, and much as Cass did with Tsuga (or, Tsuga had noticed, with other terrans as well), she looked away. “I like you, Captain Cassandra Hope! You are a very fascinating sophont.”

“Glad you’ve finally noticed we’re not all carbon copy capitalist lackeys,” Nell muttered.

“Oh, I don’t think you’re copies, and I certainly don’t think your capitalism best approximates your innermost nature,” e said. “You’ve just managed to convince yourselves of it. Most of you, I should say. My, my, my, actual communists! I was so sure you were just terrible nightmare phantoms terrans invented to scare themselves into hurting each other for profit.”

“So we have an agreement then?” Cass said. There was some subtle slackening in her shoulders and her face that Tsuga only noticed because they’d spent so much time with her. “Supplies, compilers, minimal adviser presence, and full autonomy?”

“Oh my no,” Andoa said, straightening back to eir full height. “It would be deeply irresponsible to leave you alone on this planet, especially given how damaged it is. Tsuga will back me up on this – it’s simply not suitable for inhabitation at the moment.” E glanced at Tsuga with a few of eir eyes, seeking confirmation.

“That is my conclusion, as the welcoming committee’s environmental engineer,” Tsuga said. “Solstice requires intensive remediation that will take several terran years to achieve a viable average temperature for ecological recovery, during which time I cannot recommend habitation.” Cass made an expression that Tsuga didn’t recognize, but which certainly didn’t look pleasant.

“But worry not, little ones,” Andoa went on, still smiling. How e made that face for so long without it seeming somehow artificial, Tsuga didn’t know. “There’s plenty of room for you here on Tillandsia. I’ve already scheduled design and fabrication of new hab blocks to accomodate the increased population, so you shouldn’t need to have roommates for more than, oh, a few weeks. It’ll depend on the final population numbers, of course – I’m working from the records on Earth located by the Office of Transitional Neoxenoveterinary Archaeobureaucracy, which I understand are no longer accurate.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Nell said, glaring up at Andoa. “What the hell was the point of all this if you’re not going to listen to a stars-damned thing we say?!”

“I have, in fact, been listening,” e said, “and I find you to be a particularly refreshing batch of terrans, after so long dealing with your cousins whose behavioral responses were largely limited to ‘hurt myself’ or ‘hurt someone else.’ I think you will find adapting to life in the Compact quite straightforward, if in fact your goals are perfectly aligned with ours.”

“There was never any intent of negotiating with us at all, was there?” Cass said. Her face-fur was furrowing itself again, in the way that Tsuga recognized as an anger response. Her entire body was tense, like she might explode at any minute.

“Sweetling, your welfare is not something we can negotiate away,” Andoa replied gently. “It would be a grave dereliction of my duty both as a captain and as an Affini.”

“This is unacceptable,” Cass said, and if terran eyes could ever behave like Affini eyes, Tsuga thought, Cass’ eyes were doing so, seeming to shine with what could only be indignation.

“You’re stars-damned right it’s unacceptable!” Nell shouted. “We came here to negotiate in good faith, and you pull this bullshit? My first evaluation of you was exactly right: you might be technologically advanced, but socially you’re nothing but backwards imperialists who’ll do anything to turn us all into a bunch of wormheads!”

It was obvious even to Tsuga that Nell knew she’d made a terrible mistake, her posture shifting almost instantly from blustering facade to shivering fear as every Affini in the room turned their full attention to her. As a rule, Tsuga did not outwardly display their emotions, but they were standing before they knew what they were doing. Polyphylla had flowed to her feet as well, every leaf on end and seeming to vibrate with fury, and while Pisca had remained sitting, every single one of her needles was flattened against her bark in dismay and anger. All four Affini stared down at the little terran for a long moment, but it was Andoa who spoke first, eir voice perfectly calm as e knelt to stare directly into Nell’s eyes, all trace of eir smile gone.

“You will not refer to florets with such disparaging language again,” e said, in a tone that spoke less of Andoa’s obvious anger and more of disappointment. “You will not do so in my presence. You will not do so in the presence of anyone. You will not so do even when you are absolutely alone.” E leaned in close, eir form almost unweaving itself as e let eir biorhythms run rampant, eir eyes shimmering with hypnotic charisma. “Do I make myself entirely clear?”

Nell could scarcely muster the breath to reply verbally. Instead, she simply nodded.

“Good,” Andoa said, rising once again. “If you misbehave, I will hear of it.” As eir form slackened and rewove itself, Tsuga glimpsed something else hiding beneath the ire and righteous indignation of an Affini defending florets. All six of eir eyes were focused intently on Nell, as if drinking down every detail about her, filled with the predatory urge to take, to shape, to care for. Nell was certainly in no position to see it – perhaps Polyphylla and Pisca hadn’t even noticed, and the other terrans certainly wouldn’t – but it was a look Tsuga had seen countless times in other Affini over her long life, a look that said I want you, and I will have you.

“Stop looking at her,” Cass said, pulling Nell away from Andoa and covering her eyes. “My colleagues and I need time to confer before we go any further with this.”

“Take time as you need it,” Andoa said, nodding to Cass, “but not too long, little one. My preference is for the evacuation to go smoothly and without great fuss – it would be a lovely change of pace, and the best thing for everyone involved – but if I feel that your friends down below are at risk, I will begin the process of removing them for their own good.”

“Noted,” Cass said. “Come on, Blaine, let’s go.” She paused. “Blaine?” When Tsuga turned to follow Cass’s gaze, they saw Blaine utterly entranced by the gentle stroking of Pisca’s vines. “McCracken! On your feet!”

“Guh! S-sorry, Captain!” he said, swallowing heavily and dropping down off the bench to hurry after Cass and Nell. He paused at the door, turned, and gave Pisca an awkward wave before following them out.

“Well,” Andoa said after a moment’s silence, “that was very interesting. The way they tried to negotiate for their own isolation was particularly amusing.”

“I’m afraid I may have inadvertently created the impression that they could do so,” Tsuga said. They shifted their vines awkwardly underneath their bark. “My apologies.”

“No no no no,” Andoa said, waving a vine at them. “No harm done. If nothing else, it’s very charming to see terrans who don’t seem to genuinely believe that suffering is not only the default mode of their existence, but the only possible one. Still, I think those two might be trouble.”

“You don’t think they’re dangerous, do you?” Polyphylla said, smoothing out her leaves. She’d been perhaps the most agitated by Nell’s remark, but that was unsurprising, since as far as Tsuga knew she was the only one present who actually had a floret.

“Not in the immediate physical sense, no,” Andoa said, stroking eir chin again. E seemed quite fond of the gesture, and Tsuga had to admit it looked good on em. “But they’ve certainly got heads full of feralist ideology, even if it’s an unusual kind of feralism. Well, either way, we’ll take care of them all. Keep an eye on these three for me, will you? I have an evacuation to get in order.” With a nod to the welcoming committee, e turned and strode out.

“… I’m starting to see why e was elected captain,” Tsuga said, once Andoa was gone.

“Oh, my, yes. E handled that marvelously, and meanwhile I was so upset I could hardly join two thoughts together,” Polyphylla said. “Inspiring, really.”

“So cooool!” Pisca cried, her excitement finally boiling over. She flailed with her vines a bit, and very nearly came apart at the seams.

“I thought I was your role model,” Tsuga said dryly. They had no idea what cool meant – it was probably a terran word they hadn’t picked up – but it was clear from Pisca’s demeanor it was a positive one. “Or are you thinking of getting out of the sciences?”

“What? No!” she protested. “No, no, I definitely want to do environmental science! I just… well, you were there! Tell me that wasn’t incredibly cool!”

“I’m hardly the expert,” Tsuga said, “but I’ll take your word for it. We should probably discuss how we’re going to handle the terrans, though. I think they must have had their hopes pinned on this. Cass certainly wasn’t happy.”

“No, she wasn’t,” Polyphylla agreed. “And I think once Nell gets over the fascination, she’ll be even more vocally upset. Pisca, would you mind looking after them? And Tsuga, of course, if you don’t mind – Cass seems to get on well with you, and I think separating her and Nell might help to calm them down a bit. They really do seem to reinforce each other’s negative attitudes.”

Tsuga nodded. They’d noticed that as well. Even if, according to Cass, their philosophies were diametrically opposed, they seemed to delight in throwing all that aside to display inexplicable opposition to the Compact. After all, they thought, if our goals are aligned, why would they want to remain independent? It was a conundrum. “What about you?” they said.

“I think I’m still a bit under the weather,” Polyphylla replied. “And, I’ll be honest, after what Nell just said, I want to go back to my hab and hug my little petal for about three hours straight.”

“Then go,” Tsuga said. “Be with her. We’ll look after the feral ones.”

“Thank you,” Polyphylla said, the relief palpable in the subtle drooping of her foliage. “Please get in touch if you need any assistance. I promise you both, I have no intention of neglecting my welcoming committee responsibilities.”

“We’ll be fine. Pisca, why don’t you go and check on them? I need to look into a few things first.”

“Will do!” Pisca said, and without waiting for anything further strode off on her long legs. Polyphylla followed, and Tsuga was alone.

Alone save for the feeling in their core, that is. They’d felt it throughout the meeting, first as Blaine had all but curled up on Pisca’s lap, then as the Captain had, if only momentarily, tamed Nell. Tsuga had seen this sort of thing before, though not in such stark terms. Pisca clearly had her eyes set on Blaine, and the Captain would no doubt pursue Nell given even the slightest opportunity. Polyphylla, of course, already had her floret, a sweet little terran who had, if Polyphylla’s stories were accurate, been even more troublesome than this lot when she’d first gotten her.

Once again, all of their colleagues were finding florets to invest their time and attention into, and Tsuga was left feeling like the odd one out. If they had to name this feeling, they might call it loneliness, but a kind of loneliness that had nothing to do with the presence or absence of others. Perhaps even Cass would find someone, despite her professed desire to remain independent. Tsuga was torn. Part of them wished that Cass could become a floret, because she deserved to be loved and cared for just as much as any sophont did – more perhaps, given what she and her comrades had been through.

But at the same time, Tsuga found Cass delightfully interesting just the way she was. Complicated, yes, and always quite confusing, but full of fascinating insights and knowledge and ideas and behaviors. She really was a marvelous little creature, and the thought of her being someone’s floret, belonging to someone else, having someone else at the center of her universe, was the razor-sharp tip of the loneliness that Tsuga felt.

Tsuga didn’t want Cass to belong to anyone but them. It was irrational – they weren’t competent to care for a sophont, scarcely knew how despite endless courses and texts and training, and Cass deserved better, deserved the best, deserved what Tsuga couldn’t provide. And it didn’t matter in any case, because Cass was far too stable, far too competent, and far too independent to ever volunteer for domestication in the first place. The only way she’d ever end up a floret is if her feralist ideology became untenable, and if Tsuga could do anything for Cass, could give her even a single mote of care, it would be to help her avoid that pitfall.

It was so little, and it wasn’t nearly enough for the empty space inside Tsuga that they were so adept at ignoring, but it would have to suffice.

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