The Mycellin was absolutely stunning up close. A hub station near the edge of Terran space, it made the Arboratis look positively tiny. Concentric rotating rings provided gravity while giant leaves took in available starlight. The shuttle floated to one of these rings, docking inside an externally accessible hangar bay.

Venisin lead her to one of the transit stations and they took a short ride to the district where they would find Lilia Marigold, Third Bloom, and Zanya Marigold, her floret. Somehow the name change overcame whichever mental block kept her from saying the name.

And her Owner would want her to think of her as a name in a situation like this, she was certain of that.

The train pulled to a stop and Kira felt her hands begin to sweat, the tension was almost overwhelming.

They walked through blocks of hab units and Kira struggled to maintain the expected distance on her leash, struggled with the sort of grace that usually came easy.

She was sure Venisin noticed it, but thankfully her Master didn’t say anything.

It only took about 10 mins for them to make it to their destination.

It looked… just like every other hab unit. 

Some part of Kira had been expecting some kind of fortress, or maybe a jungle. 

This was just a hab.

Too insignificant for such a huge life event.

Venisin tugged her leash, and Kira followed her Master up the steps.

The door opened as they approached, and the door was opened by a plant lady covered in leafy purple flowers. She was about Venisin’s height, but where Venisin eschewed a human appearance in favor of a smooth dress of vines from head to floor, this Affini looked explicitly humanoid. Spindly bark ran like external bones down her limbs to her hands and feet, with the purple flower/leaves growing off of it.

She extended a hand out to Venisin. “I’m so glad you brought your floret along, Zanzan has just been dying for a playdate.”

Kira felt her stomach drop.

She followed the two Affini into the living room like it was her execution chamber.

She almost didn’t recognize the grinning thing that stumbled to meet them. Zanya, or maybe she should think of her as Zanzan? Wore a loose floret dress. A stark contrast to her Owner’s crisp uniform.The floret in front of her almost tripped over the coffee table. Her Owner had never misplaced a step.  The floret in front of her wore a collar. Her Owner wore the necklace Kira had gifted her when they’d graduated the academy.

Then it opened its mouth.

“Oh heyyy! Are you Kira?” it asked.

It was the same voice. It was the same voice. The intonation, the slurred words, it was all wrong. But it was the same voice.

“You killed her.” The words left her mouth before she could think.

Her eyes opened wide. “YOU KILLED HER.” 

“Your floret seems to be upset,” Lilia said over her head, “should I give her some xenodrugs? (polite-offer, caring-about-floret)”

Kira didn’t see Venisin shake her head, but she felt the zapper vine gently shock her leg. Suddenly her brain was back on.

Kira took a deep breath. Shoved her feelings in a box. 

“You… you don’t remember me, do you?” she asked the thing wearing her Owner’s face.

“Hmmmmmm. Are you someone from before? Mistress says I used to be aimless and self destructive.” The floret looked up at its killer, placed the pad of an index finger on its lower lip. “I used to fly around big spaceships, right?”

It was the clumsy version of the exact gesture her Owner made when she was deep in thought. Right before she charted the path of their not-so-little coup, right before she led them all through the most important moments of their lives, right before she twisted the universe to her will. But this wasn’t that, this was a knockoff imitation, a shadow.

Kira hugged herself and swayed for a moment–tried to find a place for the tension to go. Box. Box.

“Are you sure you don’t want help? (strong-suggestion, offer-to-take-responsibilty-for-floret)”

“My floret has not consented to any xenodrugs today. (polite-gratitude, strong-rejection)”

“Why would you need her consent? (confusion, gentle-reproach-of-handling-of-floret)”

This was just like that shipyard accident on Lancorp V. She– she’d ignore the mutilated bodies– collect the evidence– do what she had to do- then later her Owner would ho– her Own– she screamed.

Tight vines wrapped around her torso. 

“Please give us a minute. (emphasis)” Venisin spoke.

Kira felt herself be dragged to the front room. Firm vines encased her, and sharp thorns ran lovingly down the welts on her back.

“Alright little thorn,” Venisin whispered from all around her, “come back to me, I’m right here.”

Kira unclenched her arms and released them from her torso. Vines immediately grabbed and surrounded them. She uncurled herself, allowed the vines greater access. Then she held onto Venisin’s body with all her might.

A deep breath. Then another. 

Venisin’s vines clutched back in response. “Know that we can leave at any time, but I suspect you also know we aren’t done here yet.”

Kira nodded into the safety of the vines, then let go. Venisin gently deposited her, and together they went back into the living room. 

This time Kira didn’t look at Lilia’s floret. Instead she cloaked herself in the safety of protocol and knelt at Venisin’s side.

Venisin asked the first question for her. “Is your floret always like this? (inquiry-about-floret)”

“Oh, this is normal for her,” Lilia answered, “if anything today she’s especially lucid–if the Class-Es are too low the Class-Bs sometimes make her anxious. (pride-in-floret)”

Venisin had placed them some distance away, somewhat close to the door. Lilia still stood by the sofa. Nobody moved, except Zany– Zanzan. In the silence after that declaration it stumbled past the coffee, heedless of the Affini speaking over it, and collapsed into a pile of limbs in front of Kira. 

Lilia cooed.

Kira did her best to ignore it. Venisin gave her a light tap–she’d let Lilia assume she didn’t speak Affini, but her Master had decided that was done now. 

“What,” Kira tried, “what made you choose that route? (curiosity, non-judgement)”

“Awwwwww, your floret is learning to speak Affini! That’s so cute. (fascination-of-floret)” Lilia took two steps forward to pet her, but Venisin intercepted her with a vine.

“Please don’t touch my floret,” she said, “she would not take it well right now. (emphasis, reproach)”

Lilia pulled her hand back. “Are you sure you don’t want to give her some Class-A’s? (gentle-reproach-of-handling-of-floret) She’s so adorable, with her speaking tricks! I wouldn’t want her to suffer (availability-and-willingness-to-carry-additional-effort-for-floret).” 

Venisin let the vine rest back on Kira’s shoulder. “Yes, and I would be very grateful if you answered her questions. (firmness, finality-about-floret)”.

Zanzan tried to crawl up Kira’s leg. Kira didn’t move. 

“She was struggling to adjust under even a moderate course of xenodrugs. She was happy–the implant confirmed it–but she was in distress about that happiness. (care-for-floret)”

Distantly Kira realized she was crying. Lilia gave her a look of concern, but didn’t try pushing xenodrugs again. Venisin had distracted Zanzan with one of her vines, which the floret now clumsily batted at, like a cat.

“We talked about why she was struggling,” Lilia continued, “She said, ‘There’s no way that I–the person who I am, that my life experiences have made me–would be okay being a pet.’ She was so cute! Not all Terrans are so great at explaining their emotions! (pride-in-floret) So, we discussed the options and then agreed the best approach was altering her drug regiment. (fond-memory, care-for-floret)” She looked at Kira for her response.

“I don’t– I don’t–“ Kira tried to stop breathing, to stop hyperventilating. She shot a desperate look at Venisin, who immediately clamped a vine over her mouth. She spent a moment choking, struggling against the lack of breath. When the air finally returned the oxygen was welcome, but not overwhelming. 

“I– (understanding, deep-emotional-pain)” Tears kept running down her face. “Before we met, I couldn’t be on anything short of full Class J’s and even then, eventually I–. She never– she was never good at settling for a lesser existence. Never good– good at giving up. (deep-emotional-pain, loss)”

“Yes, I hear she was quite demanding with you. You were her ‘slave’ right? (sympathy, curiosity)” Lilia asked.

Kira choked. “Yes, we’d– you could definitely–“

“Barbaric human practice. (unsafe, deserving-domestication) But she left you a tape. (information)”

That was too many things at once for Kira, and she just shut down, hands still on her thighs, mouth halfway open. Zanzan, meanwhile, ignored the Affini being spoken around it, and stumbled after one of Venisin’s stringer vines, which her Master was flashing in a colorful pattern.

Lilia continued on as if nothing was wrong. “I’m glad you got away from her, much as she seemed to be attached. No one should have to endure the kind of violence that you did. Would you like to see the tape anyway? (sympathy, kindness)”

Kira tried to find words again. “I– I–“ A gentle vine on her mouth commanded Kira to stop talking.

“We would love to,” Venisin spoke for her, “please give me a moment to calm my floret first. (caring-for-floret)”

Kira felt herself wrapped in vines and brought once again into close proximity with Venisin’s core. She let herself go blank for a moment, the problems out there momentarily on hold.

“I’ve got you, little thorn.” Her Master hugged her in sharpened vines and Kira felt herself return to her skin. “But I think we need to finish this.”

Venisin moved them back into the living room. A torrent of vines settled the two of them on the couch, facing the large view screen on the wall of the hab. Lilia sat down some distance away from them, then pressed something on her tablet.

The view screen popped on. The Zanya Marigold in the video already wore the collar and the floret dress, but still had Kira’s necklace sitting below it. The Zanya in the video seemed to sway a bit, struggling as if drunk but trying for coherence.

“Hello kitten.”

Kira’s world stopped. The person on the video was absolutely her Owner. Kira felt it again–that awe that came from being in her presence, the knowledge that she would do literally anything for her, that they had earned that loyalty and that they held that with all the regard it deserved.

“You’re probably wondering how I even recorded this. They’re about to put me on more severe xenodrugs. They want me to be happier, can you believe it?” Her Owner laughed. It was like the sun. “By the time you get this I’ll probably be long gone. But they did let me make this video.”

She looked thoughtful on the video for a moment.

“There’s… There’s two things, I think, I want to say, and one thing I need to do.”

Kira’s heart clenched. She knew, as much as the thought pained her, that these might be her final orders.

Her Owner in the video continued. “I’ve done a good job of not leaving things unsaid, and we’ve talked about how that matters to us. But some things are worth repeating.”

The figure in the video made eye contact with the camera.

“So first, I want to say that I love you. I’ve loved you from the day after the strategy exam, when we first went out in that run down Thai restaurant and talked until three in the morning. From the day we realized you were a girl. From the day you handed yourself to me, body and soul.”

Kira started crying. By the watery look in her Owner’s eyes, it looked like her god wasn’t far behind her.

“I love your dedication–to me and to everything you do. I love your bedhead, the way your hair sort of goes everywhere when we share a bunk. I love your care and your compassion and the way you make everything around you better without most people even noticing it.”

Her voice grew quiet. “And I love your submission, your masochism, your bravery. The way you’re so willing to give all of yourself. The way you’re so willing to give all of yourself to me.”

“Which takes me to the second thing I want to say–“

Her Owner smiled at the camera through watery eyes.

“Thank you,” her voice cracked as she said it, and a few tears started rolling down her cheek.

*BEEP* her Owner’s collar made a chirping noise, and suddenly the pain on her face devolved into bliss.

She looked up above the camera in muted surprise. The motion was sluggish and her eyes visibly struggled to stay open. “Please, please wait–” she slurred, “I promise it’s okay, I want to feel this way.”

Unintelligible words, though she could make out that it was Lilia’s inhuman voice.

“No– no,” her Owner mumbled with difficulty, “this is important.”

More unintelligible words even as an injector appeared on the screen.

“I’ll be sadder if you make me stop, plea–  thank you.” The injector found home in her owner’s arm, the “thank you” already returning to her Owner’s usual sharp cadence. The relief was palpable.

The sheer absurdity of the exchange pushed Kira back into shock, and she squeezed one of Venisin’s vines. Her Master ran a thorn down her shoulder, brought her back into her body, just in time for her Owner to continue on screen.

“I wanted to say thank you, kitten. For a lifetime of service. For a lifetime of your company, of your smile, of your sense of humor. For a lifetime of growth, of dedication, of ever deepening surrender. It ended up being a shorter lifetime than either of us wanted it to be, but I am grateful for every single day.”

It took a moment for the declaration to hit. For it to truly truly hit. They hadn’t built that sort of dynamic. Kira’s service was, by both of their preferences, expected. She was property, and property got maintenance–got necessary aftercare, sure, and her Owner would never let her think She didn’t care for her–but a Goddess did not prostrate herself before her priestess.

She knew what it meant. This was aftercare. She knew what was about to happen. 

The emotional pain of it pierced her like a knife.

The ghost on the screen continued, unaware. “Knowing you, kitten, this might be a good time to pause for a mome–“ the voice cut off as Venisin did just that. 

Kira laughed to herself in the midst of the pain. The idea that her Owner would be unaware of something about her–if she was still around she would have asked her for punishment for such a faithless thought.

If she were– the pain kicked back in. Vines tightened, held her. Kira slowly collected herself, she needed to see this through.

“–ent. This is maybe my last gift to you.” The tears on her Owner’s face had dried, and she radiated a hint of her usual confidence. Kira couldn’t help but straighten. “Once it was clear we were going to be captured, I did some negotiation. So: When they do find you, they’ve promised to avoid Class O xenodrugs except in case of significant danger to others’ lives, and to avoid implanting you until they’d found a good match. I have no doubt you’ll terrorize a whole slew of hapless Affini along the way.”

Her Owner chuckled at that, even as her eyes still shined with tears. Her Master rustled as well, behind her. There was something adorable about that that touched Kira’s soul.

“But I hope by the time you get this message you’ll have found your match. Who knows, maybe there’s an Affini holding your leash right now who’s worthy of your soul. “

For the first time since the tape had come on, Kira smiled.

“So, maybe this counts as my actual last gift. Kitten, slee–“ Everything went blank.

For an unknowable amount of time Kira floated. It was the null space her Owner sometimes put her into, a place she thought she might never see again. Not that she could think about that at the moment. No senses, no thoughts, not awareness.

“-wake.” Her Owner said. Kira blinked twice, gathered her bearings. It was impossible to tell time in the hab, but Zanzan had left the room and Lilia had an almost empty cup of tea in front of her. Her Owner’s tears had dried, and she carried that look of satisfaction she always did when she did something particularly dark or controlling.

Kira felt her Master’s satisfaction through every vine. She’d ask about it later, but if it wasn’t for her to know, then…

“So,” her Owner continued, “now that that’s out of the way: last things.” 

The knife stabbed Kira in the gut again.

Her Owner leant into the camera. “I know,” she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Her Owner spoke the words she’d, on some level, known were coming since the ‘thank you’. “Lastly, I need to let you go. I–“

Kira didn’t hear anything after that. Instead, she felt it–the deeply physical rip as her soul was torn in half. Losing a limb–no, losing ALL her limbs–would have been less painful. She tried to breathe, she couldn’t. She convulsed, curling around herself. The pain transmuted into a kind of bone deep nausea, and moments later Kira vomited the breakfast she’d so carefully prepared this morning. For only a moment she found herself wishing she could go back–to that tense unknown, to maintaining a facade in the hope she might be reunited, to that temporary island of stability and submission with Venisin that she’d known couldn’t last. 

Venisin had paused the tape. Kira squeezed a vine–she needed to keep watching this. To finish it. No matter how much it hurt. Venisin kept the video paused, and just hugged her. Squeezed her so tight she could barely breathe. Squeezed her so tight it held the shattered pieces of herself together. Then she continued the tape.

“–just because I can’t exist in this world doesn’t mean you can’t. Find your peace. You have my blessing. And my eternal love. My kitten.”

Kira couldn’t– she just– she couldn’t–

Her Owner didn’t offer her the mercy of a pause. She spoke the magic words, the words that would destroy her forever. “So with that: Your life is yours again. I release you, kitten, from my service, from your hypnotic chains, from any and all obligations you have towards me, real or imagined. I release you to find your path forward, to find your own happiness outside of your loyalty towards me.”

Kira wailed. Dying would have been less painful. She wished she was dead. She wished she could have died in her service, died protecting Zanya Anderson–wished she could have died before ever being able to think that name again.

“I’ve teed everything up,” the recording continued, “but the final steps are yours. I love you, Kira.”

Kira collapsed and curled up.

Venisin loosened her vines to let her, let her flail, hit the couch, writhe through the agony, but restrained her when she tried to curl up, kept her present when she tried to withdraw into herself. So she took the soul destroying pain and cried through it. Took the pain and let it wash through her, over her, into her. She accepted the pain and bore it, the way Zanya Anderson–her former owner–had taught her, and she let the crying and the flailing and the endorphins gradually process it down. Venisin kept stroking her, kept her company, sat with her as her soul was torn asunder and Kira tried to remake herself in the ashes.

Kira wasn’t sure how long it took before she could pull herself together again. The tears had stopped a few times, then come back. Venisin hadn’t said a word, and Lilia was nowhere to be found. The tears were gone again now. Even the numbness that normally hit her after a serious cry was escaping her now. The knife was still stabbed through her heart. But she’d adjusted to the pain now.

She knew what she needed to do.

She pulled herself up, untangled herself from Venisin’s vines. Her plant looked at her, expressionless. She slipped off the couch, found space besides the coffee table, faced the one who had found her and saved her.

She paused for a moment and took in what she was about to do. She mentally thanked Zanya for taking care of her, even past her ownership. For somehow, somehow, setting all of this up. For loading the dice, twisting the odds, and somehow getting her here. But her best friend, her lover, her former owner, she was right. The final steps were her’s.

She shuffled a half step closer, sank down to her knees, and prostrated herself.

Kira spoke into the floor. “I– I– you deserve this from me. Have deserved it for a while. I– I couldn’t give myself before, and I hope–no I know–that you understand why. So–“ She choked, needed to fight the words out.

“–so I hereby offer myself to you.”

She took a deep breath.

“Please,” she beseeched, “please take me. Mold me. Hurt me. Change me into whatever you wish. I offer you all of myself, body, mind, and soul. I will be loyal. I will be thoughtful. I will be dedicated. I will strive in everything I do. Please accept this offer of my unbounded submission.”

Venisin didn’t say anything for the moment, but a vine graced her back. Kira didn’t fear rejection. If she wasn’t ready–if Venisin didn’t want this from her–she’d accept that. Submission couldn’t be forced on another.

But that didn’t help the waves of emotional pain.

The hole in her heart flared again. “Oh god,” she sobbed, “I can finally give you everything you deserve and it’s because of this.”

“Oh go–“ a vine covered her mouth. More vines ran all over her as she felt Venisin’s presence approach. The stingers, warm and safe. The thorns, sharp and loving. And the tactile vines, always there to keep her.

“Shhhhh, it’s alright,” Venisin whispered, “I accept, as you knew I would.”

Her Master picked up her prostrated form and wrapped her around her core. “For now let’s leave this hab, I don’t think it is a good place for either of us.”

They walked out without saying goodbye, and distantly Kira wondered what might have gone down while she was watching the video.

Her Master and Owner spoke even as Kira felt them moving. “I’m going to give you the ride home to feel your hurt, then I’m going to punish you for your lack of honesty for the entire duration I’ve known you. I’m not in any way upset with you, but we both need this to put ourselves back on solid earth. And it will help you through the pain. Then I would like you to tell me how you wish to grieve.”

Kira felt sleep rapidly approaching–losing a piece of your soul was exhausting. Idly she considered that at this point it could very well be aerosolized xenodrugs pulling her down. She took a deep breath just in case.

“I- I already know,” she said weakly, “I want to go somewhere we can see space. The closest we can get to open sky. And then I want to tell you about her.”

And then she was out.