The crackle of radio static interrupted the thinking of one Cody Gibson, who quickly stopped the rhythmic chopping he had been at, placing his blade down against a cutting board. He shot a quick glance to his left and locked eyes with his head chef, as their music was disturbed by an odd, inhuman voice that attempted to be comforting while being a little too off as to not trigger an uncanny valley response in the pair of terrans. 
    
    "Good evening cuties! This is your nightly reminder to take your medications, drink some water, and take care of yourselves! Please, make sure youve been to your local domestication center, and signed up for a new hab! We also need you to make sure you've submitted for your psychological and physical evaluation so we can make sure we take care of all you little cuties! And remember to report any feral activity! Thank you!"
    
    The announcement clicked out, and music slowly returned. With a sigh, Cody's head chef took off his towel and threw it on the counter, stomping off for a moment, while he returned to his prepping. He wiped off his forehead with the back of his arm, before sliding the last of the prepped synthveggies into a container, and shoving it into its spot in the cooling table at his station. 
    
    Cody pressed his palms against the counter and pushed a leg back, stretching out his back and staring up at the ceiling, his vision fading a bit as he felt his whole body shudder under the stretch. Probably not healthy, but whatever, he thought to himself, raising his hand to his head to pull off the bright blue bandana that kept his golden locks clear of his head to run his hand through his sweaty hair, scritching over his scalp. 
    
    "Hey Mark?" He called out, walking towards his head chef, who had escaped to his office to cool off after the announcement, where he found him rapidly tapping his foot, face buried in his palm. 
    
    "What? What the fuck do you want Cody? First I've got to deal with the bullshit rush tonight, then Jared fucking disappeared, and now I get to deal with that stupid fucking radio message again..." He trailed off, his angry attitude making the young man shy away a bit, eyes falling to the floor as he tried to hide himself in the door frame somehow, shying off to the side as he played with a tail of his apron. 
    
    "Well.. I wanted to know if it was ok if I made myself something to go..?" 
    
    "Only if you're paying for it, Cody. Youve already gotten your three meals this week." He huffed, glaring up at him, clearly not wanting to deal with him. 
    
    "Look man you know I cant afford that.." Cody interjected with a heavy sigh. With a wage of just above minimum, even the cheap diner's prices were a bit rough when he was just barely able to make ends meet. 
    
    "Its Sir. I'm not your buddy, I'm your boss. If you cant afford it, then the answer is no. I'm not in the business of giving away food." He shot back, turning in his chair to log onto his computer and begin wrapping up for the night. "Get out of here, go home." he growled, before muttering under his breath. "fatass..."
    
    "I.." he started, before his breath hitched a bit, making him flinch in fear of upsetting his boss more. "Y-Yes sir.." He quickly turned and removed his apron, to hang it from a hook near the door, and step through the back door into the cool night air with little hesitation. 
    
    He took a deep breath and attempted to cool his nerves for a moment, his shoes crunching on loose gravel as he made his way over to his beat down pickup, having to fight with the door for a moment to yank it open. The suspension groaned with his weight as he clambered in, before shutting the door with a slam, shrouding him in the darkness of his truck. His head hit the top of his steering wheel, his body slumping in his seat for a moment as he blinked away tears, breathing heavily to try and relieve his nerves. 
    
    "Fucking jackass.." he muttered to himself, sitting for a moment before fidgeting with his pocket to pull out his keys and begin fighting with his ignition, the old truck whining a bit before jumping to life, his lights coming on and stereo blaring at a high volume, making Cody jump and promptly turn down the volume. 
    
    With little ceremony, he shifted the truck into drive and pulled from his parking spot, to the road. His seatbelt sensor dinged at him but he promptly turned the radio back up to cover the sound of it.
    
    "In other news, we've recently passed the one year mark since the Terran surrender to the Affini compact. We're not sure on the current state of rebuilding efforts, however we have reports that several Affini drop pods have been spotted entering northwestern Missouri-" 
    
    Cody quickly pressed another button on his radio, moving to another channel. "-ello Cuties! Time for floret story ti-" Click. "-third floret, and I love my mistress! The affini really have wh-" Click. The Radio shut off with an audible groan from the exhausted terran. 
    
    An absolute load of horseshit, obviously, and the propaganda seems to have taken over every good radio station at this point. He opted to sit in silence for the rest of the rather short drive home, his mind wandering and ears ringing with the faint tinge of tinnitus. No one really knew what happened in Affini custody, as people who went to the other side didn't spend much time being able to talk to people back on the outside; at least, without changing. 
    
    Something about the people that went in changed. They became whatever those 'florets' were that came up on the propaganda videos and radio recordings. Something about them wasn't right, like they weren't 'normal' any longer, and 9 out of 10 times their personality entirely changed. Cody shuddered to think about what might have happened to change them in such a way.

*****
    
    Cody pulled up to his dark house and cut the engine, his engine knocking a bit as it shut off, headlights illuminating another car and the front of a shoddy ranch house. With a small groan, he shouldered open the drivers side door and stepped out onto the dirt driveway, making sure he had his communicator and wallet, and double checking that he was holding his keys, before locking and slamming the truck door shut. 
    
    With a small breath, he stomped up to the front door of his house, and fiddled with his keys, before undoing three different locks in order. Before opening the door, he gave a swift set of knocks, two quick ones, followed by three slow knocks, before opening it slowly. He called out somewhat softly, announcing his presence as he moved in. "H-Hey, I'm home..." he called, the familiar sound of a wheelchair creaking somewhere nearby.
    
    He slowly swung the door open and stepped inside, to find a familiar sight. His older brother pointed a shotgun in his direction, sitting firmly in his wheelchair, wearing camo bottoms and a white tank top, his hair buzzed to the scalp. "Knees."
    
    "Look, Jason, I'm really not..." Cody started, only to get a swift shotgun pump, his brother racking a shell. 
    
    "I said, get on your fucking knees."
    
    He sighed heavily, promptly dropping his keys into a bowl near the door, before lowering himself to his knees and planting his head on his brother's knee. Without hesitation, his brother grabbed his hair in a fist, and pressed a needle to the base of his neck, lightly pressing it into the skin. The two of them sat for a tense moment, waiting for the telltale squirming of an Affini parasite. When none came, his brother let out a sigh of relief, and released his hair from his grasp.
    
    The younger terran sighed and stood, releasing a breath he didn't realize he was holding.
    
    "Those fucking weeds are getting closer." he brother muttered, shifting his shotgun into a makeshift holster on the side of his chair, before turning and beginning to roll across the living room. "Three ships have disappeared on us today alone. Just fucking gone. One of them I heard the screaming before just... nothing.."
    
    The pair of them walked through the house in solemn silence, before approaching an inconspicuous bookcase. Pulling a book made an audible clunk, and the bookshelf then began to swing backwards, his brother bumping into it with his chair to force it open so the two could enter a hidden room. 
    
    Nearly every wall had a chart, picture, or monitor against it, all aglow with various information on signals, ships both up and down, and various documents about the Affini, potential weaknesses, and various pictures taken from distance. Wires hung from the ceiling and crossed the room in massive arrays, all probably alight with the movement of data. 'The Nest' as so appropriately named, had one occupant, a rather scrawny woman smoking a cigarette, her greying hair tied up in a tight bun and a headset sat firmly on her head, one ear off. "Hey mom.."
    
    The woman gave a half wave, before clacking away on a keyboard for a moment, sending a message or other to some ship somewhere in the galaxy; Cody didn't really understand how it worked, but he shrugged all the same. "How are our rations?"
    
    "We're almost out of rations, you're going to have to go hunting." she said, with a wave of the hand. 
    
    "Oh come on, I just got home an-" 
    
    "What, do you want us to starve?" she interrupted, glaring him down from across the rather small room, his brother rolling to his station at another computer. 
    
    "Its dark out. You should have an easier time hunting. Take my NVG and rifle from under the stairs and just get something." his brother grunted, tapping out a long and needlessly complicated password to log into his station.
    
    Cody could do naught but groan, pinching the bridge of his nose with his finger and thumb and pushing his glasses up a bit. "Alright, alright, fine. Let me just get out of my work clothes."
    
    With that, he turned, and stomped his way out of the nest, slamming the bookshelf door behind him. He made his way down the stairs to the basement, where his bedroom took up the majority of the space, and slowly squirmed from his slacks and chef jacket, promptly throwing them on a chair in the corner of his room. 
    
    After some digging, he pulled on a pair of camo cargo pants, and a long hoodie, followed by his hiking boots. He made sure to double check his blades; one on his hip, one in his hoodie, and one in his boot, before heading back up to grab the cheap surplus night vision goggles and rifle. He quickly pulled back the bolt and inspected the chamber, seeing three rounds in the magazine. 
    
    With a trained hand, he popped the magazine out, and loaded a few more rounds just to fill it, before sliding it back into place with a satisfying click, and slinging it over his shoulder to hang across his front comfortably. He then grabbed a small pack they kept in the storage, double checked it for the things he might need; rope, tarp, a small medical bag, and various gadgets for field prepping his find. 
    
    Without further hesitation, he promptly stomped his way out of the small ranch, and began hiking through the forest.
    
    *****
    
    It was a solid hour before he heard it, a soft grunting sound coming not far from him, just ahead and to his left. The telltale sound of a hog foraging in a dark brush of sorts. He didn't need to see it to know what it was, nor how big it was. Its snorts were deep and low, and it showed no signs of noticing as the hunter stalked closer, until he got a good vantage point, his rifle scope glinting slightly in the moonlight as he raised it.
    
    He put his eye to the scope, centered the crosshair on the shaded sillhouette of the large feral creature, and slid his finger down to the trigger of the old age rifle. A deep breath out, he slowly exhaled, calming his nerves and stilling his body. 
    
    His finger began to put pressure on the trigger, only for the rifle to begin drifting upwards, the sight leaving the sillhouette and sliding up along the trees, making the hunter pause and back his head from the scope.
    
    Inches from his head to his left, crouched a large shuddering creature, faintly glowing in the moonlight, which easily pulled that rifle from his grip, before speaking, scaring away his hunt and the nerve he had collected in that small window of time. 
    
    "I can't let you do that, little one"