“Mistress!”

Rosa Ceaea, Fourth Bloom, would never tire of hearing that sound. The happy, excited cry of her floret as she came home was adorable beyond belief, as she quickly abandoned whatever piece of furniture (or Affni) she’d been sitting on in favour of bolting towards her owner and wrapping her arms around her waist. She wasn’t the only one, either. All of her interactions with Anastasia were recorded for research purposes, but the footage would often spread widely across Affini channels, as the Compact as a whole fawned over the adorable floret-to-be.

It was a simple measure for Rosa to bend down and sweep Anastasia up in her vines, cradling the delicate human to her chest. She still couldn’t get over how soft her pale skin was, or how small she felt pressed up against her! Affini scientists had assured her that Anastasia was a standard height, of course, and that the pale skin was a common response to deep space travel, but it was still a marvel. “Anastasia! How are you? Did Xanthe take good care of you?”

“Yup! We talked about Terra a bunch, and she told me how cute I looked this morning, and then I showed her how to braid hair!”

Ah. Braiding! She’d been pleasantly surprised by that method of human grooming. “I can see that!” she responded, glancing over at one of her fellow scientists, whose soft pink vines and flowers hand been woven into a gorgeous display of plaits and knots. “I’m so sorry I had to leave you today, but I’m glad she took good care of you – and I’m sure we learned a lot that will help us.” Running her vines through Anastasia’s curly brown locks, she gave the young woman a smile.

The concept of smiling was still somewhat new to Rosa, but seeing her expression mirrored in her floret’s face reminded her why it was worth the effort. She positively beamed every time Rosa smiled at her, before – eventually – turning away, her cheeks red. Rosa had since learned this adorable behaviour was common among humans when their emotions got the better of them; the blood vessels in their face would dilate slightly, colouring their cheeks and indicating their embarrassment.

Human biology was incredible, but it was those physiological responses that were the most distracting. The blushes, the embarrassment, the subtle way their hands squeezed onto your vine, almost unconsciously. All of them! She’d been studying humans for two months now – this particular human in particular – and still couldn’t get over them.

Anastasia was exceptional. Of course, in Rosa’s eyes, she would always have been the most adorable thing ever, but in terms of humanity as a whole, Anastasia represented everything the Compact had hoped for. They’d discovered the stunning species just six months ago, and the crop of cotyledons they’d harvested had, on the whole, responded well to their assistance. While most had proved someone stubborn, and some had resisted fiercely, a scant few hadn’t just accepted the Affini’s attentions – they’d reciprocated them. Anastasia had been one of them.

It had taken about a week for Anastasia to be willing to accept that there was the possibility these strange plant aliens did not have malicious intentions for her, and genuinely wanted to help her and her species. Rosa’s preliminary research on humanity had led to her suspecting that she’d be one of the most promising cotyledons of the crop. It seemed that women like Anastasia – women who had been forced to take the step of declaring themselves women – were mistreated in Terran society, to say the least. This explained both Anastasia’s menial duties, which were well below her capabilities, and the manner in which some of her crewmates discussed her in interviews. (Several Affini had already taken ‘steps’ to correct the latter.)

Regardless of any mistreatment, though, it was no promise of kindness or respect that won Anastasia over. Rather, it was an entirely mundane interaction, one that had caught Rosa by surprise. She’d been assigned as Anastasia’s carer, thanks to her extensive study of the human endocrinal system, and they’d met daily to discuss Anastasia’s medical needs, and how the Affini could best address them. While the human hadn’t been particularly cooperative when interviewed, she’d shown some interest in the possibilities of Affini medicine. When, after five days, Rosa’d been pleased to announce that she was confident they could replace the oral medication she was currently taking, Anastasia’s response had surprised her. Yes, it had taken her several all-nighters to figure out how to completely nullify the long-term effects of the testosterone hormone, and undo some calcification of her collarbones. Yes, it was a significant step forward in human medicine, conducted entirely for her benefit.

But still, Anastasia’s enthusiastic, heartfelt reaction was puzzling. Of course Rosa would put in that kind of work for her! She needed it. And when those soulful brown eyes had looked up at Rosa, asking if all Affini cared as much as she did – well, Rosa had been puzzled, but told her the truth.

From there, Anastasia had flourished. Rosa had moved from a role as her endocrinologist to her primary caregiver, at her request, and within weeks, the carefully cultivated cocktail of hormones had worked to spectacular effect. They’d grown ever-closer as weeks became months, and Anastasia was moved from a luxurious observation lounge into a carefully built hab unit where the developing relationship could be closely observed by Rosa’s team.

But back to the present, of course. Anastasia was quietly nuzzling her head against the garland of leaves around Rosa’s neck, while the Affini absently let her vines stroke her hair. “Anastasia, do you want some xeno-“

“Some xenodruggies?” She wasn’t sure how Anastasia had come up with that word for them, but it only won her over harder. “Yeah, that’d be nice. But only a small dose, okay? I wanna be… all alert, later.” A soft whimpering sound escaped the girl’s lips as Anastasia’s vine slipped her a soft dose, just as she’d requested. Within a few seconds, the only sound the girl was making was the most adorable moan as she nuzzled deeper into Rosa’s leaves. It was a considerable effort to shift her to a more comfortable position and force herself to focus on Xanthe, but she managed.

“How’d she do?”

Xanthe imitated one of humanity’s gestures, called a shrug, as the red leaves of her ‘shoulders’ shifted to indicate her confusion. “I think it went well? It’s hard to tell if it was a constructive day or not, though it was certainly fun. She taught me about Christmas, you know?”

“Chris-ta-mas?”

“Yes, Christmas!” Xanthe’s petals curled upward in a grin. Human expressions had quickly become habit among the team, solely for the adorable reactions they earned from their charges. “It seems to be a human tradition that occurs around this time, aligned to the change of seasons in their home planet. They sing songs, give gifts – it’s an adorable celebration! She showed me a few videos of her family celebrating it back home. Very heartwarming, especially considering how she’s been missing them so dearly.”

A pause. Well, that was certainly good to hear. “A festival, of sorts?”

“Exactly that!” replied Xanthe, her petal-shaped grin widening. “Actually, she swore me to secrecy, but she did create a present for you. I had to help her access the archives we retrieved from Terra so she could fabricate what she wanted, and help her –“

“No!” There discussion was interrupted by Anastasia. The drugged out human shook her head from where she’d concealed herself among her vines, shaking her head, violently, before fumbling around with an uncoordinated arm, attempting to plant a single finger on Xanthe’s lips. It was a gesture that meant ‘be silent’, apparently. “Shh. You promised…”

“I did. I’m sorry, darling.” Xanthe smiled slightly at her antics, before focusing on Rosa again.

“She wants to give me a gift? Does she not realize that she is not the sweetest gift I could think of? Nothing you could give me compares –“

“Shh! You’re not meant to know I’m giving you a gift. No more talking!” Looks like the girl was putting an end to that discussion – at least until the gift was given. No point frazzling her any more, especially when she looked so adorable while drugged-up. Besides, if Rosa needed to know, she had no doubt Xanthe would’ve warned her. Whatever it was, it was harmless – and if keeping it a surprise made Anastasia happy, then every Affini on the station would ensure it was.

But once they were done smiling at Anastasia’s drug-addled insistence on keeping her ‘gift’ a secret, however, Rosa shifted to Affini for the discussion they’d been keeping from Anastasia. “What about the disease?” she asked, hesitantly. “We’ve made no progress. Was there a reoccurrence while I was gone?”

“Nothing.” Xanthe’s smile had vanished.

Ah, roots. Rosa had been concerned about that happening. It was the reason for her departure - she’d left to consult with her team, spending her day trawling Anastasia’s biometric readouts in an attempt to understand what was happening to the poor girl.

It had started a few weeks into Anastasia and Rosa’s relationship, completely unexpectedly. While snuggled up against Rosa, the human had shifted, slightly, wrapping her legs around the tendrils that made up Rosa’s own leg. Affini scientists monitoring her had noticed a subtle, yet steady increase in her pulse, something that normally indicated distress. Initially, it was assumed to be an issue with monitoring her vitals remotely, and Anastasia had been more than happy to wear a cuff that allowed them closer monitoring.

Two days passed, and then, as they both started to drift off to sleep, the cuff had beeped, issuing an alert. Increase in blood pressure, increase in pulse, and a release of hormones from the pituitary gland. The frantic beeping had resulted in a set of medical specialists frantically making their way over, as Rosa lifted her up, urgently looking over a confused and half-asleep Anastasia for any sign of circulatory distress. But by the time help arrived, it had faded, her vitals stabilizing.

‘Spikes’ in whatever unknown condition had continued, ever since, with increasing frequency – all tied to Rosa’s presence. Initially, they’d assumed it was an adverse reaction to the customized hormone regimen Rosa had put her on, and a guiltstricken Rosa had spent hours trawling over her notes, trying to find the source and coming up with a new alternative. Yet it persisted. The idea of it being something unique to Rosa, an allergy of some kind, had been proposed, but Anastasia had no such reaction to reproductions of Rosa’s flora, and the same condition had started to affect other cotyledons stepping towards domestication. One hadn’t been exposed to xenodrugs in over a week, at their request. A viral infection was their current guess, and teams were working overtime to work out the source. Still nothing. They’d managed to narrow down the hormone that might be driving this response, oxytocin, during Rosa’s work today. But human endocrine systems were too delicate to make simply nullifying it an option, and it didn’t explain all of the responses they were seeing. There’d even been reports of swelling among some humans, which was a sure sign of the body’s efforts to fight off infection.

And if they didn’t work it out, and if the rest of the cotyledons continued in the same manner as Anastasia, what could happen? What if the whole crop died? Slowly, the Affini were faced with a horrifying reality, where even their advanced sciences couldn’t save this precious, delicate species.

Glancing down at Anastasia, Rosa shook her head. No. This wouldn’t happen. “Xanthe, I know we said we wanted to keep this quiet, but can you consult with the ship’s doctor you’re domesticating?”

Xanthe’s arms folded. She was incredibly protective of that human, to the point that most interactions with them had to go through her. Grace – said human – was incredibly grateful for Xanthe’s protection, it seemed, but it did make things awkward when they needed to consult the best source of human biology. “She’s not being domesticated,” repeated Xanthe, sounding vaguely frustrated. “She’s exploring what kind of relationship she wants with the Affini, while still maintaining her ability to help her species.“

“Right. The ship’s doctor who wants to be domesticated, but isn’t.” Rosa didn’t need to sigh, but did anyway. “Xanthe, I know things with her are complicated and delicate, but she’s one of the best chances we’ve got. Surely she’d be willing to help?”

There was a pause from her fellow Affini before, reluctantly, she nodded. “She’s engaged in some study, still, but I’ll give her the readouts, and explain what’s happening. I’m sure she’ll be able to help.”

There was a pause, as Rosa glanced down at Anastasia, before reluctantly asking the question she dreaded. If this was happening to her floret-to-be, then… “Is she infected, too?”

“She started showing symptoms today, apparently, while we were talking. Doctors logged it and informed me once I left.”

A pause. “So, every cotyledon we’re domesticating is dying. We’re trying to help them…”

“And instead, exposure to us is killing them. It’s only a matter of time before we have a major cardiovascular event.” Xanthe reached over to stroke Anastasia’s hair, watching the human shift happily in Rosa’s vines, before walking towards the hab unit’s door. “Keep a close eye on her, Rosa. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” A pause. “Oh, I nearly forgot. Don’t go into your room until she tells you.”