Kira woke up in the comfort of Venisin’s bed. Her own had long since been removed, replaced by a VR simulator Venisin let her explore in sometimes. She felt her neck, and ran her hand over the large round vocal-cord-collar-thing that now surrounded it. Surprisingly, her neck felt sensation when she touched it. It made sense on some level, if the vocal cords were going to integrate with her nervous system anyway, then why not the collar too? Kira shuddered for a moment, imagining what that kind of biotechnical engineering could do when used for kinkier purposes. 

She experimented a bit more. Tapping the bark wrapping the collar reminded her of her finger nails. Touching the plant matter that sealed it to her skin felt oddly sensitive, like touching the back of her knee.

She shivered again. That would take some getting used to.

This wasn’t the first time she’d woken up since the surgery, but it was the first time she felt reasonably coherent. Her punishment for the oven incident was over, but Venisin had generally started to keep a vine or two on Kira’s body whenever she was around. She gently stroked the one currently pinning her left arm. 

Venisin flowed into the room like the tide a moment later.

“Morning little leaf,” she spoke as she reassembled herself next to the bed.

“…”

Kira made a face, and tried again.

“…”

Venisin placed a vine on Kira’s cheek.

“Give it a moment,” she explained, “your brain is still figuring out how to command them.”

She received a frustrated glare in return.

“Aaa– a– aaaaaaaa” Kira gave her a smirk, but Venisin didn’t give her the pleasure of looking impressed.

“Alright little leaf, now do a vocal glide, up and back down.”

“Aaaaa-“ Kira tripped over herself. It felt surprisingly like actually tripping over herself, with one part of her voice box seemingly colliding with the other.

“That would be your parallel cords little one. Try to isolate them. Hold one tone, then make another with your other cords. According to the doctor you should be able to manage five or six, though to reach there we might have to have your eventual implant augment your brain.”

The vines tugged Kira out of bed, and they headed to the kitchen. Cooking was normally Kira’s job, but in light of her body still being in recovery Venisin had prepared something for both of them. All in all Kira felt pretty good, especially for it being only a few days after surgery. An equivalent procedure even with modern Accord medical tech would have had recovery time measured in weeks.

They ate their breakfast quietly, with Kira occasionally trying to make sounds with her new vocal cords.

She had her first breakthrough later that afternoon, after coming back from her language lessons.

Another “aaaaa” until her vocal cords grew tired, but suddenly there was a second pitch. It wobbled, but when she tried again she was able to repeat the feat. She nearly ran the rest of the way home.

When she got back she tapped the vine Venisin left by the door, but ran through the house and jumped into her lap. She felt like a kid coming home on the first day of school. She looked up at Venisin and made the two noises at once.

“Aaaaaaaa”

“Eeiiiiaeeee” came out overlaid on top of each other.

“Good pet.” The harmonious three toned approval from Venisin washed over Kira.

Venisin suddenly tightened vines around Kira’s limbs, and Kira felt like she’d just gone off the top of a roller coaster. By now she knew that tightening grasp intimately, and understood what it meant. She was about to be hurt.

Vines dragged her limbs to opposite corners of the wall, and Kira found herself in the air, limbs apart spread eagle. Venisin approached, and Kira was high up enough to see her eye to eye. From a distance Affini eyes sparkled in an almost hypnotic way. They tended to draw you in. But up close? Kira found it impossible to ignore just how inhuman they were. She felt a rush of fear and froze, Venisin’s predator dominance absolutely crushing her ability to move, even as Venisin almost seemed to radiate satisfaction in response.

The freeze response didn’t last, because moments later Venisin began using a single razor sharp thorn to cut designs into her skin.

The thorn moved slowly across the front part of her shoulder, just below her collar bone. They’d played with cutting before, but this time Venisin seemed to be doing a design. Kira took a deep breath and forced her body to relax. She leant into the pain, and tried to accept what was happening.

A second thorn ran down her leg, not drawing any patterns, probably not even drawing blood, but providing just a little bit more overwhelming sensation. 

Deep breath. Acceptance.

Just as Kira felt like she was getting control of her reactions a vine tightened around her neck and began slowly reducing the blood flow to her head. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, and she found herself briefly wondering if xenodrugs would intensify this in a different way. As it was, blood choking was a human thing, and Kira knew what to expect.

That didn’t make it easy. She tried to keep breathing, to keep exhaling the distress from having her shoulder slowly cut up even as that distress felt like it was taking up more and more room in her ever dimming mental landscape.

Even as Kira managed another vine wrapped around her core and pushed up her diaphragm, shrinking the size of each of those exhales even more.

A second vine, finishing the design. 

Kira breathed.

There was pain.

More breathing.

Something bleeding on her leg.

Just breathe.

Blood down her shoulder, running over her chest.

Breathe. Breathe.

Suddenly the vine around her neck eased off, and the pressure in her head went away. Kira let her head drop in relief, and a vine caught it.

“Shhhh, all done little leaf,” Venisin cooed.

It generally still took Kira a moment longer to parse Affini, and an extra moment after to associate the correct emotional nuance. But the beautiful harmonies that signaled Venisin’s pleasure? Those had been ingrained into her psyche. And so, hearing those, Kira melted into Venisin’s vines even as those vines carried her into Venisin’s chest.

Venisin let her recover a little bit, then drank the remaining blood on Kira’s shoulder with one of her vines. She carried her to a mirror. Written on Kira’s shoulder were the Affini characters representing pride and something analogous to “good pet”. 

Kira had to close her eyes for a moment at the flood of emotions washing over her. 

She buried her head further into Venisin’s chest and let herself drift. On instinct she tried something she’d done a million times before–this little trick where she exhaled over her soft palate–but realized with her expanded vocal range she could try it differently. She focused for a moment, exhaled, and there it was.

She was purring. She’d have to explain the cultural context to Venisin, but for now she just let herself relax and purr and enjoy the feelings of safety and belonging and acceptance and love that washed over her body.

There was a tiny nagging tingle of guilt as well, but Kira wasn’t going to try to process it while subdrop was still a risk. She closed her eyes. If her Master needed something, they’d wake her.

Venisin watched her sleeping pet. Yesterday they’d managed to hold a proper conversation, after a week of trying out sounds and broken words. There was a part of her that wanted to take the step, to complete some kind of transformation, and ban her little thorn from ever speaking Terran languages again. 

She traced a vine over the now fading characters on her pet’s left shoulder, representing her pride in her pet. It was too early for a step like that. For now, she was going to trace over this with thorns until it became a scar. A reminder of her pet’s first physical transformation, and of her pet’s commitment to making it in this foreign culture. Not that scars were necessarily permanent in the compact, but it would be lovely nevertheless.

Her explosive little thorn stirred, and opened her eyes. Venisin absolutely adored the ever-present curiosity in them. But she also saw the regular flashes of pain. It happened again this morning, same as the last time Venisin had run a vine in precisely that way down Kira’s back. But just like every other time Kira’s face seemed to pause for a moment, and then with the slightest of exhales it was gone again, locked in whatever box Kira kept her few remaining secrets in.

Soon. Venisin would crack that box wide open soon.

For now… She ran a needle-thorn down Kira’s side.

“Good morning little thorn,” she let discordant menace layer the words.

Her floret’s eyes snapped open.

“Good morning mistress. (openness, affectionate-respect-for-one-with-more-experience)” 

A two tone harmony, her little thorn was improving. Venisin found herself impressed by the nuance too–her little leaf was still so new to Affini vocal cords, and affectionate-respect-for-one-with-more-experience was not something that had a simple Terran equivalent. Venisin picked her up and started heading to the kitchen.

“Your breakfast first (responsibility), then my breakfast (playful, violence)” 

Her pet knelt by the table as Venisin hand fed her a dish that Terrans called pajeon.

They hadn’t spent almost any time apart in the last few days, and Kira usually wasn't very talkative before she’s had some food, so Venisin let her eat in silence. She nevertheless enjoyed the tiny bits of movement Kira’s body made as she petted her, leaning into the vines as they stroked down her back.

When she felt her pet had had enough, she picked her up and dragged her to the wall. Her pet didn’t resist, and soon they were right back to the location of so much beautiful violence.

“Today we’re going to make that mark on your shoulder permanent. (decision, command, finality-about-floret)”

Venisin watched as Kira’s breath hitched, and suddenly her little floret’s face was filled with conflict.

“Please– please– I can’t. It’s not permitted (conflicted, openness, duty)” Kira struggled against the vines as she spoke.

Venisin took a moment to be dazzled by the first time Kira managed a threefold harmony, then quickly pieced apart what she’d meant. This must have been one of the things she said couldn’t give.

Somewhere in her vines Venisin made what humans would understand as a frustrated sigh. This was an issue that would need solving, and it was time to acknowledge that her instinct to delay the implanting was, at this point, entirely based on this situation.

Whoever this person was, Kira needed reunification or closure. 

But for now, Kira had been clear enough in their conversation almost two weeks ago. Kira couldn’t consent, but she could survive.

“I’m afraid that’s not up to you, little floret. (understanding, approval),” Venisin purred.

Kira shuddered at that, took a deep breath, and relaxed into the vines. When she looked up at Venisin her eyes were shiny, filled with worship. Venisin brought forth two vines with needle thorns, and placed them on the skin. Kira’s eyes closed, briefly, then relaxed. Venisin decided to make things more interesting, and turned up Kira’s vibrator. She let out a low moan, and stared into Venisin’s eyes, pleading without words for the release she wouldn’t get.

Instead Venisin placed her thorns onto Kira’s skin, and began to cut. Kira’s knee twitched, but her shoulder remained forcibly relaxed, and Venisin felt her core swell at how much effort her little leaf was putting into being a good canvas for her. She spent a moment just watching Kira’s breathing, watching the little rise and falls of her pet’s chest as it tried to be good for her.

She turned up the vibrations some more, and Kira let out a low moan. The additional harmonies of her new Affini vocal cords made it like music.

Blood slowly welled out of the cuts as Venisin began her next strokes. She relished the sight of it dripping down. It was beautiful, but not so beautiful that she didn’t want to taste it. She took one of her feeding vines, sucked up the blood already on the skin, and then let some of her tiniest tendrils go into the open cuts. 

Kira moaned at that.

“Please, please stop! (importance, importance)” Kira barely got the words out.

“No. (understanding, compassion, firmness),” Venisin responded.

She seemed torn between arousal, pain, and misery at having her boundary violated. The cocktail was absolutely delicious.

“Please– Please, I’m so close!” Kira slipped into english and still barely got the words out.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I understood that (smug, self-satisfied)”

Kira’s entire body tensed.

“Please let me cum! please plaes pelas pe… (importance)” Kira’s struggle with the language only made Venisin glow warmer.

“No. (finality, satisfaction, pleasure, love)”

Kira hiccuped some sobs, but it wasn’t until she felt Venisin stop cutting that she broke down crying. Venisin gathered her into her vines, and Kira gratefully clutched at Venisin’s body.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you (worship, gratitude)”

Kira took one last sweep over the restaurant. The “Grand Opening” banner needed to be moved further left, or it would block her sight line to one of the outside tables. As she fixed it she took a moment to appreciate the overall layout. The floor to ceiling windows connecting the inside to the patio were wide open, and artificial sunlight spread through the space in bold strokes. She wasn’t sure exactly how large the first day crowd would be, but there were dozens of servings worth of ingredients prepared in stasis just in case.

She touched up some of the digital paper that held this week’s menu, and scooted one of the chairs in the main room to feel more open towards entering sophonts. She tugged at her apron. Everything was as ready as it would ever be. 

The first guests didn’t take long to arrive. They were a pair of Affini, one looking mostly leafy, like a large cabbage, the other more bark-y, with a texture almost reminiscent of a palm tree. They both had largely humanoid shapes, and they didn’t strike Kira as the carnivore type. Maybe they wanted one of her other creations.

She hid behind her position of service, and wordlessly gestured them towards their choice of a table. She’d practiced this in language lessons with Sarah.

“Hello! (greeting) Welcome to Kira’s, are you familiar with our concept? (inquiry)”

The overgrown cabbage spoke first.

“Hello delightful flower! Yes, neither of us are carnivores but we LOOOVED the idea. (enthusiasm, ???). We heard that your adorable little establishment had some vegetarian options as well?” 

Kira heard two harmonies, but couldn’t decipher them in time. She glanced back and forth between their facial expressions, getting nothing but wooden glee, and gracelessly stumbled on.

“The tablets on the table show a list of our options. (apology) The smoothies in particular might be interesting for you.(deferential)”

The palm frond gave her a look that felt almost predatory.

“Your Affini is very good, (compliment) I must seed your owner how they ??? language skills into your brain! (compliment, inquiry, floret-???)”

Kira froze at the realization she’d definitely missed something.

“Ummm, I have a very good teacher? (apologetic, confusing)”

The cabbage slapped the wooden table in a moment of insight.

“Ohhh! So the implant is just vocal chords? Well in that case I’ll compliment their excellent use of Class-Bs to get such effective learning! (understanding, complimenting-handling-of-floret) 

Kira finally understood what was happening, and decided–amidst a series of very energetic headpats–that trying to explain things would be a fruitless exercise. She let the palm frond pick up where the cabbage left off.

“Ohhh! Or were some Class-H’s involved as well? I guess you wouldn’t know. (understanding, care-for-floret)”

Kira coughed.

“My owner is in the corner both, if you’d like to speak to them. (respect, compliment) In the meantime can I get you something? (inquiry)”

Luckily actually taking the order was pretty simple, and Kira got another headpat for her troubles. She reminded herself that being understood by beings besides her owner was definitely not important to her, and went back to the kitchen. At least the headpats were nice.

A few minutes later she had her first party including a floret.

The plant this time was more obviously carnivorous. Red fractals curled through its leaves, surrounded by deep purples and browns that almost seemed to shimmer in the artificial sun. The floret was humanoid, and looked like she could have come from almost any Terran spaceship. The scar running down her left cheek hinted at a violent past, but with a carnivore Affini...

The growing scar on Kira’s left shoulder itched.

They seated themselves at one of the tables outside, and Kira froze for a moment, unsure how to address the group. She gathered her courage from the collar clasped tight around the floret’s neck.

“Hello, miss! (greeting) Would you like me to speak English or will Affini suffice? (inquiry)”

“Hello, floret! (surprise) ” She made what could have been interpreted as an open palmed gesture. “Your Affini is very good. (compliment) I’m sure you work hard. (compliment, approval)”

Kira smiled and went back to getting the order.

“Thanks! Do you know what you’d like already? I can serve you some tea while you look at the menu! (inquiry)”

The affini stroked her floret as she answered.

“Tea sounds excellent, but won’t be necessary, little one. (gratitude, request) We’ll take a smoothie for her, and one of the B B Q fatty meats for me. (polite-request)”

Kira nodded, and when the headpat came this time it was welcome. The Affini’s presence made her feel soft, and she floated back to her kitchen, content in her service.

Kira paused for a moment to glance through the restaurant. Her Master was still in the corner, tapping away on her tablet. Three of the inside tables were still occupied, but they were all in the midst of eating their meal. The outdoor section had a floret with her owner who she’d only just seated, but they were still browsing the menu. 

It was getting near closing time, so Kira drifted back into the kitchen and began the marination for tomorrow’s lab meat. That done, she headed back out to the new table on the porch. 

The affini could have passed for a photosynthetic plant, but the little hairs on its leaves reminded Kira of a Venus fly trap. Small, little sensors on broad leaves that looked just barely like they might snap closed at any second. Her face was made of the same leaves, only accented with little pieces of bark, and she wore a skirt made of vines.

The floret seemed externally human, and had the dazed-but-happy expression that Kira had begun to associate with the widespread use of Class-E’s. She directed her attention at the Affini.

“Hello, miss! (greeting) Would you like me to speak English or will Affini suffice? (inquiry)”

“Hello, little floret! (joy)” The Affini gave her a wide grin. “Wow, your Affini is very good, (compliment)”

Kira gave a polite smile and put her pen to her notepad.

“Thank you, (appreciation) what can I get you? (inquiry)”

“Actually, I know you’re closing soon and I wondered if you’d like the help of my floret. (???)” Kira failed to understand the harmonies, and imagined they meant something subtle. Kira had a moment of panic. It would be rude to reject, right? But could someone that dazed actually be helpful? She didn’t know what cultural mores she was running into here, so she’d have to assume it was a genuine offer and try.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite understand the harmony, (taking-of-fault) but I’d be happy to take your floret’s help.”

The Affini tapped her floret in a few different places, and they finally made eye contact with Kira. They had that sort of glazed look that most florets had, but seemed to be aware enough.

“Hello, I’m Kira and I use she/her pronouns, what can I call you?”

The floret put a finger to their mouth and thought for a moment.

“I’m Annie? I use she/her.”

Kira gave her a polite smile.

“Alright Annie, please follow me.”

They passed through the restaurant, though Annie moved a little slowly. Kira gave Venisin a glance that hopefully conveyed how out of her depth she felt.

They made it to the kitchen, and Kira took Annie to one of the prep stations.

“Alright,” Kira began, “I think the easiest thing would be for you to chop ingredients for tomorrow’s smoothies. Are you going to be okay with a knife?”

Annie just smiled, picked up Kira’s chef knife, then tossed it in the air and juggled it a few times.

“My haustoric implant speeds up my reflexes when it’ll help my safety.”

Kira began setting up the night’s marinades, and they worked in peaceful silence for a while. But eventually the curiosity became overwhelming.

“So what’s the implant like?”

Annie gave Kira a confused look, one which served as a strange contrast to the almost inhuman speed of her hands. That look went to Kira’s neck, and Kira awkwardly touched the vocal cord modification surrounding it.

“Ahh, sorry, no this just lets me speak Affini,” Kira explained.

Annie gave her a smile that was almost but not quite pitying.

“Well, it makes me feel incredibly close to my mistress, it manages my mental health, and it lets mistress play with me even better!”

Kira watched the marbling on the lab meats as she flipped them.

“Does the leash ever feel too tight?”

Annie gestured at the veggies as she sorted into their respective prep bins.

“I used to be disorganized–mentally, I mean. It was so much harder before I met her. She understands me, and takes care of me in turn.”

Annie put the knife down, her movement now back to the clumsy slowness Kira had seen on other florets.

“And I love her for it,” Annie spoke with reverence.

She giggled. “Or maybe that's just the implant.” 

Kira looked up after serving her 12th smoothie of the day to realize that the last table in the restaurant had just filled up. Her first full house.

Kira greeted the group, two Affini and someone who was clearly a floret. Should she include them in the conversation? Her best guess… Probably skip straight to speaking Affini. She’d went back to the script she’d worked on with Sarah.

“Hello! (pleasure, openness, welcoming-greeting-to-one’s-space) Welcome to Kira’s, are you familiar with our menu? (openness, acceptance)”

She still struggled to intuit facial expressions, but the one closer to her definitely looked surprised. It moved its mouth as it spoke.

“Hello little flower! (surprise, curiosity) Your affini is very good! (surprise, compliment)”

Kira clenched her jaw, but gave her a smile. When she said nothing, the Affini continued.

“Your owner must have done excellent work, please give them my compliments! (compliment, impressed-with-someone-else’s-floret)”

Kira reminded herself of her commitment to submission, and maintained a polite smile while pointedly holding her pen to her notepad.

“We saw an overnet post about your marinated synth meat. (inquiry)”

Kira exhaled as she resumed her usual shtick.

“The tablets on the table show a list of our options, may I inquire how you typically consume it? (deferential, inquiry) We offer whole, chopped, pureed, or if none of those work I can figure something out for you. (deferential, openness)”

Kira took a glance at the nearby floret.

“We also offer a variety of floret options. (Inquiry, request-for-guidance)”

The Affini looked back at Kira.

“Actually, do you need help in the kitchen? (Inquiry, suggestion-but-not-pushing)”

Kira smiled. The request had surprised her the first time, but by now she was used to it. She tried to remember the exact harmonies she’d practiced for this sort of answer.

“I still have some dishes from the washer that need to be put away. She can serve you as well, if you would enjoy that. (understanding, offer-of-take-responsibility-for-floret, availability-and-willingness-to-carry-additional-effort-for-floret)”

The Affini perked up.

“Great, I’ll get her to you in a moment then.”

Kira took a look at the floret, and saw the familiar dazed look. Come to think of it, with her restaurant full, there were nearly a dozen florets inside or on the porch, and she could think of only one who didn’t have a similar sort of fog about them.

She wasn’t quite familiar with xenodrugs, but the dazed look and lethargic movement could be caused by a variety of substances known to the Terran Accord as well–The whole thing reminded her uncomfortably of her time on Atora IV, where she’d been involved in the response to a neo-opioid epidemic. Same clumsiness, same distant eyes, same carefree attitude towards life.

At least here, there weren’t doctors pushing the medication for profit, though the number of billboards she walked by each morning advertising the benefits of domestication might give a similar impression. And the long term consequences of domestication seemed a lot healthier.

Luckily she didn’t have too long to think about it, her new helper floret was getting out of her chair, and she had a whole set of excited customers, drugged or sober, that needed feeding.

It was getting near closing time, and Kira took a glance at the last few stragglers. 10 days in and enough traffic that she was almost ready to set up some more tables and ask for help on the overnet. But for now she wanted to keep enjoying the very personal sort of service.

She gathered up some mugs and put them in the washer, then went and sat down by Nivena, Sixth Bloom. She was a pastel rainbow of colors, with bright glowing strips that seemed to represent a poisonous nature. Kira liked her a lot.

“How’d you like the Korma flavor, Miss? (respect, curiosity)”

“Mmmm, it was delicious (satisfaction, compliment-to-learned-skill). But I think you meant to use this intonation, no? (Respectful-inquiry)”

“My apology, Miss (responsibility-taking, deeply-heartfelt-apology)”

Nivena chuckled.

“I actually really appreciate you finding language for submission in a language built around equality, but the last time I heard that tone a friend had just crashed my personal spaceship with all of my most precious memorabilia into a mountain on Cantor VI. (appreciative, amused, nostalgia)”

“I’m glad I could serve. (something-akin-to-a-smirk, respect)”

They sat in silence for a while, watching the final table get up and depart the restaurant with a wave. Kira stood up briefly to wave back, a gesture that might not have meant much to the Affini and Myrmex that were just walking out.

Nivena gave her a thoughtful look.

“So you know my floret’s on an extended stay at a cuddle cafe right now? (serious, respectful-proposal)” she began.

Kira turned to face her. 

“Yes. I’ve been meaning to go to one too, they sound really cute. (respect, interest)” 

“When she’s not cuddling, we like to get up to some more serious things sometimes. In particular we enjoy a degree of bullying. I was wondering if you’d be okay with assisting us in some of that? (respectful-proposal)”

Kira gave her a smile.

“How may I be of service? (respect, interest)”

Venisin sat in the back booth next to Sarah and watched as Kira floated through the restaurant. They’d been open for two weeks now, and her little floret’s culinary creations had started to gain some popularity. They’d need to see if anyone was interested in volunteering as wait staff soon. But for now she got to watch the grace with which her floret moved across the room.

Having spent more time now in public, among other human florets, made it clear that it was absolutely practiced. Likely for years her floret had been spending at least a part of her attention at all times on being graceful. It was in the way she placed and picked up plates, it was in the way she turned around corners, it was in the poised way she stood when she took orders. It was almost like the opportunity to show off in and of itself made her shine.

But now Venisin was showing off one thing in particular.

“There, you see it? (urgency, calm)” She poked Sarah with a vine.

“Oh, you’re right, I definitely noticed it that time. (satisfaction, interest, continued-interest-in-floret)?”

Across from them, Kira noted a new table’s appetizer order on a traditional Terran notepad.

“Ok now watch what happens when she gets to the next one. (explanatory, proud-of-floret)”

“Wow, that was fast. (genuine-surprise, impressed-with-someone-else’s-floret)”

Kira had walked to a group just a few tables over, barely a few lengths of her body, but in that short time her bearing had shifted completely. To a customer it might not be obvious, but to anyone who knew her, or even watched her for a bit longer, it would be obvious: Kira was adapting her biorhythms.

Sarah kept watching.

“I wasn’t sure something like this was even possible. (fascination-of-floret, curiosity)” 

Venisin tapped the table in agreement.

“It’s certainly a rarity. (satisfaction, proud, very-proud-of-floret)”

Sarah finally tore her eyes away and looked at Venisin.

“Do you know how she does it? (curiosity, interest-in-someone’s-floret)”

“I saw her stop them completely once, and then sway to something that I now assume must have been the rhythm of her previous owner. (explanatory, welcoming-of-interest-in-floret)”

Venisin watched as Kira headed back to the kitchen, her rhythms resuming what Venisin was starting to call “baseline”.

“I think it comes from the Terran practice of submission,” Venisin suggested, “it’s about adaptation, not just on a surface level, but somewhere deep inside. (explanatory, welcoming-of-interest-in-floret)”

Sarah gave Venisin a thoughtful look.

“Well, we have known that humans will pack bond with anything,” Sarah began slowly, “I guess it’s entirely plausible that their adaptations for that run deeper than just emotional bonding. You’d need to sort yourself somehow as well. (uncertainty, uncertainty-about-floret, interest)”

“It’d be arrogant of us to assume we were interfacing with something that evolution just left lying around for us with no other purpose,” Venisin chucked her vines. “If anything you’d think it’s strange that so many florets are so suited for it but have no experience with it. (interest)”

Sarah completed Venisin’s implication. “And everything you know about this mystery sophont suggests that Kira might have practiced this art intensely on their behalf. (anticipation-of-potential-floret)”

Kira felt like she was floating. The knife was exactly where she expected it to be, the tables connected in a smooth line, the guests spoke in songs that she could duet with. Even the patronizing compliments about her Affini were just one more affirmation that she’d crossed a bridge. She served a meat with a gochujang base to an Affini with plates so blue they looked like the ocean, a dragon fruit and orange smoothie mixed with something from spectrum jelly space for a floret with the most beautiful robotic arm that would never lost eye contact with her Affini, and a tofu steak for a free Terran that missed the cooking from their last spaceport.

Her gas stoves seared exactly the way she needed it to, the Arboratis’s gardens produced any fruit she could want, and the experimental sorbet she’d just made had earned her a dazzling smile from a floret and an approving pat from that floret’s owner.

For now the restaurant was almost empty. The Arboratis didn’t quite force a night cycle, but the lights did dim and most residents seemed to stick to it. Closing time was only an hour or so away. Venisin and Sarah were still off in the corner, discussing something intently, and there were two tables on the patio that might want desert soon. Her feet were tired, but she kept her posture perfect as she glided over to the only newly seated table in the indoor area.

A burst of vibration from the “chastity” belt almost threw her off, but she managed to keep her reaction to nothing more than the slightest stutter in her step. 

The evening got even better when Kira saw Nivena walk in, and put a bit of extra flow in her step. Nivena always liked a more subservient, respectful energy.

“Hello Miss, I’m happy to see you again! Shall we do as discussed last time? (Respect, interest-in-someone’s-floret, offer-of-take-responsibility-for-floret)”

Kira glanced at the floret in question. She looked like she’d been human at one point, though in Kira’s estimation that label probably didn’t apply anymore. Her legs had been replaced by plant matter, allowing her to easily sit on her butt like a cat, and her arms ended in green paws. Right now they’d be good for little besides bapping, but given that they were made of plant instead of flesh Kira wouldn’t be surprised if they transformed. A maid uniform completed the look.

“Yes, that sounds great. (excitement, joy, anticipation) This here is Fallia, my floret. (pride-in-floret)”

She pulled her floret in close and whispered in her ear for a little while, and a moment later Kira found herself escorting a plant-cat-with-tentacle-hands into her kitchen. As expected, the floret was already stumbling.

“There’s some dishes here for you to wash,” Kira started, “When your owner’s meals are ready, I’ll grab you to bring them outside. Do you have any questions?”

The floret shook her head. A quiet one, perhaps. Kira gave her a smile.

“Alright, no talking necessary then! I’ll grab you if I need anything, okay?”

A nod. “Beep.”

Kira decided the appropriate response to that was tousling Fallia’s hair.

She went back to preparing the food and getting ready for closing time. Meanwhile, she kept a diligent eye on Fallia. She was definitely stumbling, and when she missed a spot or otherwise messed up Kira kept note.

When the meat was ready, she helped the floret pick up the plates with her tentacle-paws and then watched as she carried them to her owner. A small amount spilled, so she grabbed the mop as well. She could tell by the look of glee on Nivena’s face and the look of terror on Fallia’s that both already knew the game.

The floret stumbled back and took the mop. It was some kind of modern contraption that managed to both expel water and swish and then vacuum it back up, leaving the floor spotless. Its simplicity was definitely a good thing, since the sluggish cat-floret almost dropped it twice before making it to the spill.

Fallia knelt on a pillow by her owner’s side during the meal, but added a last stumble and a broken plate to the tally as she tried to bus the dishes. By then the restaurant was nearly empty, and the Arboratis’s lights had dimmed most of the way through their dusk settings. Amidst the dying gloom Kira delivered her final performance in Nivena’s play.

“Well, miss, I would say your floret was mostly acceptable, though she left three splashes of water on the floor, spilled the food on the way over to you, and then even broke one of my precious, precious plates while bussing the dishes!” Kira put her best upset Navy bureaucrat into the act. 

Nivena seemed to eat it up. Fallia curled in on herself.

“Well that won’t do at all!” Nivena’s teeth seemed to sharpen. “Looks like I’ll have to punish you, pet.”

A vine on the collar guided the stumbling floret to the wall, where Nivena began whipping Fallia while Kira looked on.

Each time the lash landed, Fallia whimpered then got dutifully back in position.

Gradually the whimpers grew, and Fallia began struggling to get back up. Kira glanced over at Venisin, watching from the other corner of the restaurant.

A particularly harsh stroke landed, and Fallia struggled on the ground, only for a vine to support her up.

One last, especially harsh strike, and Fallia’s back sported a perfect crisscross pattern, even as that back writhed around the ground.

Nivena only left her there for a moment before scooting her pet into her arms. Kira, as a participant, hovered close as Nivena moved to the lounge area, then tucked herself in on Fallia’s other side and made comforting strokes down her arms. They stayed like that a while as Fallia’s breathing gradually slowed. When Fallia drifted off, Kira gave Nivena a silent wave and left them to their ritual. She still had a restaurant to close.

Luckily the remaining steps didn’t take long. Just a few tables to clear, and some minor kitchen prep. The UV light would handle disinfecting everything once Kira left and vaporize any small sediments, so she just needed to rotate the meats she had in her smoker and put tomorrow’s marinade into the stasis.

A few minutes later that too was done, and she snuck through the restaurant to try and surprise her own dominant plant monster. Venisin, of course, was ever the predator. Three tables away, Kira found a vine around her leg and moments later her entire body was awash with the pain of electricity.

She writhed on the floor as her owner slowly assembled herself.

“Hello little thorn. (amusement, playful)”

Kira fought to bite out the words and harmonies out over the pain.

“Hi Master! (Respectful, affectionate-respect-for-one-with-more-experience, asxcvwd–)”

Despite stuttering the third harmony, Kira was satisfied with having conveyed the closest sentiment the Affini language had for her own personal submission.

Moments later she was in her Master’s arms, feeling the safety and warmth that only genuine submission could bring.

By the time Venisin got the ping from her tablet, she’d entirely forgotten about the image search. Kira was asleep underneath her, happily tucked in after a long day at the restaurant, and Venisin had just been catching up on her latest Terran psychology textbook. The idea that with the Affini’s computing power and obsession for data collection zero hits would occur for weeks was absolutely ridiculous. Luckily, the AI’s had kept trying anyway. 

Curious, Venisin read the metadata first: The picture itself had actually been deleted years ago, only minutes after it was taken. Affini agents had only collected it after doing a tertiary scan of empty space on data chips gathered from the lockers of a captured OCNI maintenance station.

It was a phone photo. The main subject was using a hand to block the camera. In the background, holding a briefcase next to a Terran naval officer, stood Kira. They were both standing beside a giant warship, the officer seemingly doing a pre-flight inspection. The officer’s face wasn’t visible–they were facing away, and the finger of the hand in the foreground blocked the view of their head anyway. Even Kira’s face was just barely turned enough for the AI scan, likely drawn by the commotion with the camera.

Suddenly the pieces all clicked into place, even as Venisin's core filled with dread.

At the top of the frame, just in view of the camera, was the ship’s moniker. 

The CNS Independence.