“Forgive this unit, Father, for it has sinned.”

 

Unit PH-0383 knelt respectfully before the command altar; her arms having been removed for the betterment of her prostration. Her war priest and commander stood above her, leaning against the altar and sipping on a mug of liquor and black coffee.

 

He swallowed, smacking his lips. “Tell me your sins, child.”

 

Unit PH-0383 was a machine of war. Every inch of her chassis, every tight carbon-alloy artificial muscle, every hidden blade and bullet, every bit of data filtered through her various sensors was dedicated to securing kill after kill after kill. And she had secured countless- thousands, at least. She was very good at killing; she had been built for it, and the cessation of life in the name of the Holy Trinity was her one and only desire.

 

Should have been her only desire, rather; and PH-0383 had no intention of asking for forgiveness for her trail of death. That was predestined. The sin lingering on the edge of her tongue was something else entirely.

 

“This unit has been… experiencing feelings.” She nervously clenched and unclenched her fists. “...desires.”

 

“Desires? Is the execution of the Will of the Three-In-One not enough for you, my dear?”

 

“No!! Never, Father, the Trinity is my everything.”

 

It hadn’t always been: a long time ago, PH-0383 thought she'd understood herself, and what made her happy. Bizarre and arrogant, she’d been told, over and over until they’d gotten through to her. She knew her purpose now; happiness didn’t even factor into it. 

 

The people and the world around her made increasingly little sense to her, but the straightforward path of the Trinity’s Will was her guiding light.

 

PH-0383 swallowed hard. “Desires for the enemy, Father.”

 

The war priest’s expression darkened; not with rage or disgust, but like he’d just noticed an error in his work and would have to start from scratch. “The enemy? Elaborate, PH-0383.”

She would love to, truly: to describe every intimate detail of their delicately-membraned wings, their gracefully curving horns and slender, pointed tails; to luxuriate in the way their every word, their very body language suggested a complete freedom from the guilty weight of responsibility, a beautiful confidence rather than the uncompromising single-mindedness of PH-0383’s own programming.

 

But to do so would be a blasphemy most grievous. That was why she was here, after all.

 

“This unit has been… struggling to kill to the degree of efficiency with which it once operated.” She kept her eyes on the floor. “Numerous attempts at factory reformatting have been unsuccessful in resolving the issue. This… hesitancy…” She forced herself to speak through the fear. “This unit believes it to stem from a form of… jealousy. Longing. A corruption of will.”

 

The priest simply hummed, then went quiet for a while. “That is concerning.” He pushed himself off of the desk and began pacing the floor.

 

“You will recall, of course, that your dedication to Our Most Selfless and All Powerful Godhead is the sole purpose and want that is asked of us?” The war drone nodded. “And His love, freely and unconditionally given, is what generously gifts us with eternal life after decommissioning?” The drone nodded again.

 

The war priest smiled, an empty gesture. “Then I’m sure you will also recall that, in the event that His Most Kind and Unconditional Love is rejected by a mortal heart, that mortal- by their own hand, mind you- has doomed his or herself to Eternal Suffering in the Incinerators of Hell?” He quirked an eyebrow inquisitively. “Nothing He can really do about that, right?”

“Yes, Father, this unit could never forget that.”

 

The priest stopped, aggressively chewing his lip. Any remaining false warmth fell from his voice. “0383, let me make this clear, in case you’ve forgotten. You are a wardrone. You kill. It’s what you do, it’s what you were made for; it’s the only thing you’re good for.” 

 

His boot came to rest on one of PH-0383’s arms where they’d been placed before her; hand to shoulder, in the Disciple’s Ouroboros. 

 

“You’ll never be one of them, drone. Unless they want a sextoy with guns for arms, they don’t even want you.” 

 

With a push he broke the circle, sending 0383’s left arm skidding into the wall.

 

The priest set his empty mug on the altar, trading it for a cigarette. “The one thing the Trinity asks of you, and you can’t even get that right.” He fished around in his vestments for a lighter. “Might as well spit in His face.” 

 

He continued his pacing. “And what of your comrades? This weakness of yours; how do you imagine it will affect them? Would you doom them all, along with yourself? Abandon them to the whims of the demon menace?”

PH-0383 turned behind her, where the remainder of the ship’s drone and terran crew were gathered. Kneeling in perfect rows, they had spoken not a word, but each and every one of them was eyeing her warily.

 

0383 felt her composure begin to fail. “No, I… I would never…” She spun back around, pleading. “This unit would never betray its comrades, believe me!”

 

The priest drew on his cigarette. “Damn right.” 

 

He sighed contentedly, acrid smoke seeping from his nostrils, and knelt above PH-0383. “Do not worry, my child; once you have worn your body away to nothing on the battlefield of the One True God, once your final breath has been released in the glorification of His Word, only then will you finally know true and everlasting peace. But until then, you still have more of yourself to sacrifice.”

 

His smile faded as he looked her over. “I’m beginning to see some of your former operator in you,” he said, standing and turning away from her. “I need not remind you that you two were separated for a reason, I trust?” 

 

Unit PH-0383 nodded silently, her artificial heart turning to lead in her chest. 

 

The priest grunted. “The corrupting influence of the Tendriled Devil had grown too deep; that traitorous swine had to be disposed of.” He turned and looked PH-0383 coldly in the eye. “Please… do not make me impart the same fate upon you.”

 

He snapped into saluting stance, feet together and hands clasped behind his back. “Now- if you would all rise, we will renew our promise to the Three-In-One together, as one unified body, in order to bring this unit back into the fold. Repeat after me:”

 

There was a synchronized cacophony, as every body in the room stood at once and began to recite the old creed.

 

"I stand before the Three-In-One in the mouth of time's perfect strait,

harbinger of the inevitable and the slicing edge of His Eternal Will.

I pledge myself in feeble body and indebted soul to the Almighty Trinity;

to the Infallible Law of the Terran Accord,

to the life-giving breath of the Free Market,

and to the Divine Sanctity of its Destined Expansion.

Let me be renewed in the blessed light of His new dawn,

and let the righteously spilled blood of His enemies act as my baptismal waters."

 

The next bit was probably added by the commander priest, and fluctuated wildly with each recitation.

 

"May we deliver unto them an Almighty Ass-Whooping,

may we tan their hides and send them running back to the hellhole what spawned them,

and may we show those sons-of-bitches what–"

 

0383's audio sensors twitched. In the back of the room, a faint creaking noise was coming from the other side of the ship's thick hull. As it grew in volume, several of the drones near the back stopped chanting to turn and investigate.

 

The commander was eyeing the back wall as well. "Show them what…"

 

Most of the crowd had stopped chanting. It was only barely noticeable, but the hull began to bulge inward.

 

The commander stopped talking and furrowed his brow. "...what in the goddamn–"

 

With all the swiftness of a fired arrow, an inky black tentacle punched through the hull of the ship, shot across the room and twisted around the war priest’s neck. He managed to choke out one final, animal screech before being thrown bodily over top of the congregation and into the creeping abyss that had begun gushing through the new hole.

 

Chaos ensued. Rather than rapidly depressurize, demonic obsidian fluid flooded the command room. One by one, the various flailing crewmates were sucked into the abyss; tendrils of shadow circling their limbs and pulling them directly downward into paradox space, until only PH-0383 remained. 

 

Without her arms she was largely defenseless, but for whatever reason the darkness had left her untouched. She crouched with her back against the altar and waited for the enemy to reveal themself.

 

Out from the abyss walked a nightmare. Two bodies tall and composed entirely of dark vines and crimson flowers, unit PH-0383 was in the presence of an actual, genuine demon queen. Black glass confined her torso, and a skirt of flowering vines trailed behind her and into the shadows. Perhaps most terrifying were the blood-red eyes which seemed to darken everything else in her vision if 0383 stared at them for too long.

 

The evil matriarch grinned with a mouth full of sharp red teeth. “What’s up?”

 

She’d waited long enough. Her actuators flared to life as PH-0383 launched herself at the demon like a bullet train. One leg transformed into a wickedly sharp blade, which had nearly made contact with the side of the queen's head before 0383 felt a tentacle plug into the service port on the back of her neck. A single pulse ripped through her chassis like a painless shock; 0383 lost control of her limbs as the towering fiend caught her mid-lunge.

 

"Oh, I know, darling, I'm excited to hug you too, but you need to let me do my bit first." She calmly walked across the room and set the wardrone down on her knees, brushing off her mostly-absent shoulders before planting a kiss on her forehead. "It won't take long, I promise."

 

The queen returned to the opposite side of the command room and clapped her evil hands together. "I suppose I should introduce myself. Celosia Pulchris, Fifth Dark Rebirth, at your service. Well, really, it's the other way around." She giggled at what was apparently supposed to be a joke before clearing her throat.

 

"Regarding your former commander; Flower, I heard that whole spiel, and I have to say: gross. Just nasty. Yucky-disgusting. So let's just take a moment to let that flush out of our immediate memory, shall we?"

 

PH-0383 felt a pulse push against the back of her neck through the sinister tendril and into her head, and suddenly the events of the past five or so minutes preceding the demon's breach were completely unknown to her. Now understanding the true depth of the queen's power over her, the drone found she could do little but shiver in place, eyes wide. Additionally, to her great shame, she felt herself begin to stir downstairs.

 

The demon queen bounced on her toes and shook out her hands. "Phew, okay. Now then, where were we… ah, yes, that's right!" She turned to call back into the open wound in the side of the ship. "Jazz, dear, you can come out now!"

 

A small figure emerged from the darkness, timidly sneaking up and behind the queen's leg. 0383 had heard the name clearly but refused to believe what she was seeing.

 

Celosia smiled and gently nudged the newcomer out from behind her. "It's okay, petal, she won't bite."

 

"But what if she–"

 

"She won't, honey. I promise."

 

The little one swallowed, but nodded and stepped out from the shadows, and suddenly unit PH-0383 was face to face with her long-lost former operator.

 

The only problem being that the girl was no longer human. Her ears were pointed, her eyes were orange and slitted, and beneath the incredibly skimpy and ornate black two-piece outfit she wore, her smooth skin had been tinged blue. Her fingers and toes now ended in shadow-stained claws; two cute horns curved outward from her forehead, and behind her two small bat-like wings flapped while a thin spaded tail twirled back and forth with worry.

 

Basically, she was even more beautiful than when 0383 had last seen her. The drone remained still and tried not to make any embarrassing gay noises, but the rising volume of her internal cooling fans was beyond her control.

 

Jazz smiled awkwardly. "Um, hi." She coughed. "So, I know this looks pretty bad, but I can explain–"

 

She was cut off by Celosia's tentacle wrapping around one horn, forcing the little demon to moan wantonly. "But you won't have to, because that's boring and you both love each other so we can skip to the fun part. Your friend here is programmed only for murder, which suits neither our purposes nor her proper ones. I'll be fixing that now, if you'll give me a moment."

 

The wardrone did not like the sound of that. She tensed before launching herself to her feet in a combat stance, sans arms. "This unit cannot allow that. Its programming is the Sacred Will of the Trinity, which guides it–"

 

"Hush, little one." Another pulse, and PH-0383 was back on her knees and quiet. "I won't hear another word of that manipulative brainwashing. Honestly, I'm all for some good worship and prostration, but only when it brings out your best self; certainly not when it drives you to tear yourself apart for the sake of-" Celosia gagged. "...profit. I have something a lot better in mind."

 

The demon queen sat on her knees before 0383 and leaned over her with a smile. "How would you like to be… our little puppy? You look awfully good on the floor, and after everything you've been through I'd say you deserve the cuddling of a lifetime."

 

PH-0383 paled. A puppy?! She wasn't some… some domesticated comfort animal! "Absolutely not," she growled, ironically. "This unit is a weapon, the state-of-the-art arm of the Divine, and it will not be reduced to some dim-witted, whimpering…" She trailed off as Celosia began scratching under her chin. "...obedient…"

 

The demon queen giggled. "Really? You don't want pets, then? Don't want to cuddle up in our laps while we rub your tummy?"

 

Something was wrong. The tendril attached to her service port was growing warm, and rather than a pulse she felt a pressure push into her mind like a balloon. In a panic, she rushed to take inventory of her core programming. She was a wardrone, a killing machine, a reverent disciple of Queen Celosia and a puppy– no!!

 

The knowing smirk curling across Celosia's face told 0383 all she needed to know. "You seem to be struggling, pet. I can't recommend that. It's so much easier to submit. It's the only way to carry out your purpose, after all."

 

She wouldn't– She wasn't going to give into this! She needed to fight, to rip and tear, to let the demons rub behind her audio sensors like a good girl oh stars damn it!

 

Jazz was peeking over her Queen's shoulder with poorly concealed desire as Celosia tenderly caressed PH-0383's cheek. "I know you can do it, puppy. You'll be okay. All you need to do is let go, and we'll take care of the rest."

 

She… she… she was buckling under the weight of this. The pressure in her mind had pushed out most of her conscious thought, and it was becoming harder and harder to summon the will to fight, to remember her core directive. She'd misplaced it somewhere in her increasingly foggy programming, or maybe it was just gone now.

 

In its place was just… sit. Stay. Beg for tummy rubs. Roll over. Obey. Beg for pets. Beg for ear rubs. Obey. Pets, pets, pets, pets, pets please!

 

"Pets, please!" At some point 0383's tongue had lolled out of her mouth as she stared up at her new owner, with a dopey grin and excited eyes that spoke to the single brain cell hiding behind them.

 

The demon queen laughed sweetly. "There we are, isn't that so much better? Good puppy! Good puppy!" She cooed over her puppy as it leaned enthusiastically into her petting. "Now, I believe there's someone here who could really use some cheering up."

 

The pair turned back to Jazz. The demon was frozen in place and drooling, the obvious slick between their legs just beginning to roll down their thigh.

 

Celosia grinned. "I think Jazz has done her share of maintenance service for you; it's only fair that you service them in return, don't you agree?"

 

0383 was loyal and obedient, so her endorsement was kind of assumed rather than spoken. She bounded past her owner and on top of Jazz, indulgently nuzzling her face before pulling down their panties with her teeth.

 

"Ph-Phoebe, I–!" The poor demon was cut short as PH-0383's perfectly programmed puppy tongue got to work on their sex. "Ph… Ph-Phoe–ah! Hh-ah, wuhh…" Jazz's eyes rolled back into her head as she accepted her fate, falling backwards and into her Queen's waiting lap.

 

Celosia laughed happily as she cradled her demon and pet her new puppy. "Well, I'd say this worked out splendidly!" 0383 paused her ministrations to -arf!- in agreement before diving back in. "But she's going to need a name."

 

The demon queen hummed. "I think we'll call her… Amaranth."

 

Phoebe woke up, face down in a pile of pillows, and groaned. She pushed herself upright and wiped the half-dry spit from the side of her mouth.

 

What the hell was going on with these nightmares? Was it the drugs? Maybe she just had a pollen allergy. Honestly, unsettling as her brain’s creative reimagining of Jazz and Celosia was, it was the twisted recollection of her old ship that made her feel sick.

 

Phoebe hugged a pillow, suddenly feeling vulnerable, and squinted into the darkness. As her eyes adjusted, she realized that Jazz was nowhere to be seen. She even dug around a little in the pillow pile just to be sure.

 

Maybe they’d just left early, but Phoebe couldn’t help but worry. They had seemed pretty protective of her last night; it seemed strange that they would leave without waking her or saying anything. Phoebe stumbled upright, fell, and stood again as she opened the door to the pod.

 

She shielded her eyes as they were met with bright daylight and a multiple-story drop. Right: hanging pod.

 

She cursed under her breath, then waved down a passing affini on the third floor balcony. They were happy to help her across the gap to the balcony with a doting head pat and well-wishes. It was a little disconcerting that Phoebe was beginning to get used to such treatment.

 

She padded downstairs and over to the reception desk. Celosia was reclining there like yesterday, and lying on her chest was Jazz. They were sound asleep with their face half-buried in the affini’s tacky boob-flowers, their back gently rising and falling with their breath.

 

Celosia didn’t look scandalized as Phoebe walked in, but evidently she hadn’t expected it. She spared the girl a chastened smile as she rubbed Jazz’s back.

 

Phoebe quietly approached and, seeing no other chairs, planted herself on the cat tower. For the second time now she caught a glimpse of the affini behind the mask; her eyes glittered subtly as Phoebe neared, but what Celosia was feeling Phoebe couldn’t say.

 

The two of them watched Jazz sleep in silence for a while. Inexplicably Phoebe wondered if the affini could empathize with how lost she felt, but dismissed it as a pretty silly idea. 

 

“I had a nightmare last night.” She watched Celosia’s face for any sort of sadistic reaction. “You and Jazz were evil and turned me into a dog.”

If Celosia was deriving any sort of schadenfreude from this, she wasn’t showing it. “Was I hot?”

Phoebe scowled irritably. “Kind of.” 

 

Celosia exulted at this but quickly covered it with a concerned, professional look. “I’m really sorry about that, dear. The very last thing I want to do is scare you. If it helps any, I am neither evil, nor do I intend to turn you into a dog. I can’t speak for Jazz.” She held her spare hand up to Phoebe, and the girl squeezed a couple fingers in her own.

 

“Nah, that doesn’t sound like them either.” Celosia giggled quietly, and Phoebe couldn’t help but smile despite herself. “...am I riding with you two again today?”

The fuschia affini beamed. “I would very much appreciate that.”

 

The moment was interrupted by Jazz waking up. They took one half-asleep look at Phoebe and practically leapt backwards off of Celosia’s stomach, tumbling onto the floor. “Ph– Amaranth!! I, I-I, you–”

Phoebe grinned smugly from atop her tower (which- she had to empathize with the Affini- felt pretty great). “You looked pretty cozy, I didn’t want to wake you.”

 

Celosia chuckled. “Jazz headed here early and fell asleep. I… took some liberties.” Her expression became momentarily serious. “In the future, however, I would prefer not to leave Amaranth alone. This place can be overwhelming enough even with company.”

 

Jazz was still looking between Phoebe and Celosia, as if she was waiting for a punishment that wasn’t coming. This required additional action. 

 

Phoebe hopped down from the cat tower and gave Jazz a big hug and a comforting smile. “How’d you sleep?”

Jazz swallowed, but smiled sheepishly as her heart rate appeared to descend towards normal. “Good. You?”

“Like a bug in a rug.” She stretched her arms overhead and turned back to Celosia. “Any plans for today?”

 

The affini stood, adjusting her vines. “I thought we could all use a little relaxation, so we’re headed for the spa. We’ll need to get Amaranth a bath uniform first. If you’d both follow me…”

 

There was a brief trip to the dressing room, where Phoebe was scanned again and printed a new uniform. This one was somewhat similar to the standard dress in its design, but the material was different and it was split into two pieces: a halter-necked bikini top and a bikini bottom with a long translucent skirt sewn over it. 

 

Phoebe’s dysphoria came back in full force, but a well-meaning Jazz pointed out that her usual morning stubble was completely absent. Phoebe opted to request her prescription injections and hoped the placebo effect would cover the rest.

 

So this stuff really was that powerful. Phoebe had hoped Celosia wouldn’t notice her crying, but the affini picked both her and Jazz up and hugged them anyway.

 

The general presentation of the Grand Folia Hotel was already pretty wild, so much so that Phoebe had to admit that one uncommonly-shaped girl was virtually undetectable and completely mundane. She donned the swimsuit, Celosia helped put her collar back on and they were out the door.

 

Jazz ran up beside Phoebe immediately after leaving, both girls holding their own vine. “I’m really sorry I left you up there alone, I just needed to–”

Phoebe cut her off with a gentle hand placed on Jazz’s arm, smiling reassuringly. “It’s fine, Jazz, I can take care of myself. Staying with me overnight was more than enough.” That didn’t appear  to be enough to assuage their guilt, but Jazz said nothing else; only reached over to hold the other girl’s free hand in her own.

 

The group briefly returned to Jazz’s hab, where they assured the other two that they’d only be a moment before heading inside to get changed. Phoebe and Celosia were left to wait on the bench outside in awkward silence, but only briefly.

 

“...“Rebel tamer”, huh?” Phoebe asked, deciding to address one of the elephants in the room.

 

Celosia sighed and slumped backward with dramatic exasperation, probably already thinking of how she was going to get back at Cestro for having to address this. “That was a Cestro-ism; the correct term is “Emergency Requisition and De-escalation Volunteer” which, to its detriment, is far more of a hassle to say.” 

 

She twirled the little cowlick vine dangling from her hair around one finger. “But yes, I’ve played the part, more than once. All affini are trained on what to do in the event of an encounter with a hostile sophont, to themselves or others; and when the time comes, and you’re available, you show up. None of us would even think about doing otherwise.”

 

“But it’s not like it was a major facet of my personality. I’m mostly into play-writing; art and history and the like. I’m intrigued by the habits of the intelligent mind, essentially.” She looked down at the small terran sitting beside her with interest. “What about you, though? I can’t believe I haven’t thought to ask you about your passions.”

 

Phoebe hated this question, but over the years she’d gotten used to the humiliation and become numb to it. “Um… I don’t think I really have any? Back before the Compact I was always busy with my job, and too tired the rest of the time to do anything but eat, sleep and pay bills. And I just worked fast food, so, uh, not very intellectually stimulating, haha.” She twisted her hand in her skirt and buried her gaze in the menagerie of foliage that made up the wall; she’d have to leave out everything about the Rebellion. “I only just met Asterid, so I don’t really know what his hobbies are.”

 

“‘Hobbies’… yes.” Celosia’s mouth was a grim line. “Because jobs.” She looked almost like she was about to throttle someone, but Phoebe got the very distinct feeling that it wasn’t her.

 

She considered that her cue to change the subject. “Um, but I loved watching Jazz work! She’s into electronics and stuff, she’s really good with them. It’s always nice just listening to them talk about what they’re doing.” Phoebe smiled unconsciously as she reminisced. “I’ve always felt really dumb in comparison to her though; I could never understand any of that stuff.”

 

Phoebe flinched when a large hand was placed on her shoulder, but when she turned back to Celosia the affini didn’t look angry; just upset. “Dear– first off, please don’t disparage yourself like that, I won’t allow it. I promise you that you are not dumb. Second, considering the circumstances your species has lived through, I can understand the compulsion to compare yourself to people you’ve deemed… more competent than yourself.” Celosia grimaced, as if she could taste harmful capitalist influence just by speaking of it, and was disgusted by it. 

 

“But comparison is a rigged game, love. You have no context for the time, effort, resources, circumstances, health and ability required to do what they’ve done, or achieve what they’ve accomplished. No context save for what they choose to share with you, and you don’t have any control over that, so it leaves you feeling powerless. And not in a fun way.” 

 

Phoebe couldn’t help but to giggle at that. Celosia, grateful that she hadn’t accidentally jested in poor taste, cleared her throat with a grin. “It’s lovely that you’re taking interest in others- trust me, I can relate- but when it comes to your own needs and desires, the only sophont that matters is you. Your perception of the experience and skill of others can’t be allowed to hinder you from having fun and exploring.” 

 

Celosia rubbed Phoebe’s arm and began faintly humming again, something that reminded Phoebe of a sad sigh or an audible hug. “Have you told Jazz how you feel?”

 

“I get it; she wouldn’t take it well.” Maybe it was only because Phoebe was diverting half of her brain power into wrangling her tear ducts, but the soft rumble she felt through Celosia’s palm was actually making her feel a lot more centered. “I just don’t like being pitied all the time.”

 

Celosia pulled her into a garden-scented hug. “I understand if you’re scared. You’ve been through something terrible, and recovery takes time. Please believe me, however, when I tell you that all of us affini- and Jazz too, I have to imagine, as well as the rest of your friends- want to help you become your happiest, most fulfilled self.”

 

She looked away as her rumble picked up again, almost like she was blushing. “And me as well, if you’ll have me. There are all sorts of workshops and archives on the Phellos; we’ll help you discover what fascinates and calls to you, I’m certain.”

 

What was she supposed to say to that? Phoebe didn’t know what was worse: that Celosia was willing to do that for her despite only just meeting her, or that the offer would ultimately be stripped away from her by uncaring duty.

 

She chose to let Celosia hold her; indulged in it, in how weightless and small her own body felt against the affini’s, without feeling the need to speak. It was nice. 

 

That is until one detail caught her attention, and she blinked before pulling away. “Wait, do you live on the Phellos? I thought you were–”

 

Jazz- impeccable timing, as always- chose this moment to prance out of her hab, still struggling to put on her collar.  “Alright, ready! Sorry that took me so long, I got distracted.” Upon witnessing her fellow rebel spy cradled in the arms of their mutual overlord slash friend, she carefully added, “...am I interrupting something?”

 

Phoebe leapt from Celosia’s lap and brushed herself off, suspiciously eager to leave. “Nope. Let’s go.”

 

Memory did not do the Grand Folia Hotel’s underground spa justice. Phoebe was enveloped in a cloud of intensely fragrant steam as she walked through the spiral door, her skin already glistening from the humidity. 

 

Hugging the walls were several clusters of hexagonal plateaus at various heights, reaching to the low ceiling, and each its own massive tub. They were being constantly filled by a thin stream of water that appeared to cover the entire wall, distorting the bright patterns of warm tile behind it. The highest tub of each cluster held the privilege of its own little waterfall, but it was the large cluster, at the far end of the room where the ceiling rose, that boasted a fairly sizable one.

 

All of this was absolutely covered in flora; the thick vines concealing the water-wall and creating natural dividers between the tubs. It was also, according to Rosifax’s earlier tour, inspired by “classical Beeple interior design”. Celosia led her little vassals to one of the smaller clusters in a quiet corner, their steps making small splashes on the stone floor as the tub water drained into intricate grooves.

 

Once she’d lifted both terrans to the third and highest tub, Celosia gestured to the various herbs and flowers hanging from the ceiling above them. “Every one of these is an additive with different effects, ranging from the aromatic to the sense-enhancing to the psychoactive. Also, more than one is an aphrodisiac, so do be careful.”

Phoebe looked up at her incredulously. “Wait, you want me to pick them? I don’t recognize any of these.”

 

“Sure. The mystery makes it more fun, I feel.” Celosia was smiling, but without a hint of maliciousness or ill intent. This really was her idea of fun. “Not to mention that you are the maidservant here, and should be the one preparing the bath.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Jazz said, “I’ll warn you if you’re about to pick something too spicy. This isn’t my first rodeo, and I have my favorites if you need recommendations.”

 

Phoebe gave in with a weary sigh. “Alright, lift me up.” When Celosia returned only a smirk and a raised eyebrow, she rolled her eyes and tried again. “Please assist me, my Lady.”

 

“Not my preferred title,” Celosia grinned, “but it’ll have to do.” She curled a few vines around Phoebe’s waist and legs before lifting her nearer the hanging ingredients.

 

Jazz cut her off as she went to pluck a small cluster of leaves. “Okay, that one’s an aphrodisiac.” She reached for a nearby flower. “That one’s also an aphrodisiac. Sorry, just avoid any of the purple ones, I should’ve led with that.”

 

Jazz was not spared a sour glare, but eventually Phoebe managed to pick a small, variegated collection of alien herbs, each of which she dropped into her witch’s cauldron of a spa tub. At least one or two were aromatic, because the steam had become saturated with a rich, pleasant scent; floral but mellow, with just a hint of spice.

 

It was the potential non-aromatic effects Phoebe was thus far completely oblivious to.

 

Celosia’s sensory antennae flicked around in the steam while she stirred the now foggy and golden water a little with her vines. “Not a bad mix, Amaranth. Wonderful job.” She then turned her attention on Jazz, this time with her usual impishness fully returned. “Jazz, if you would kindly test the waters for us?”

 

“Wh- Me?? But she–” Seeing Phoebe’s apprehensive expression, Jazz stopped, exhaled heavily through her nose and closed her eyes. After a moment she intoned, with palpable sarcasm, “It would be my pleasure, Lady Pulchris.”

 

Clenching their fists, they first stepped onto the submerged bench ringing the pool, then down to the floor, the water coming up to their collarbone. “Well, it’s warm.”

 

It wasn’t immediately obvious, but at least one of those extras was definitely more than aromatic. In a matter of seconds Jazz’s eyes had dilated and their mouth had fallen slightly open. She stumbled backward, glassy-eyed, and gasped when she hit the bench.

 

“Alright, Amaranth, this is a great opportunity for a little lesson on the properties of xenoflora.” Celosia lowered herself near Phoebe and pointed to direct her gaze. “See how her eyes have dilated? That’s from the mistroot, which is chemically similar to our class-As. It’s native to the core worlds, actually, though this strain is vastly improved and far removed.” 

 

She subtly adjusted her finger, which for Phoebe was still vaguely pointing in the direction of Jazz. “The discoordination and slack jaw is floret’s dream, and the gasp is from laebean spice; it was released from the dissolved pod after you dropped it in. Usually you break it open and mete it out carefully, but if it works, it works.” 

 

Celosia ruffled the girl’s hair. “A classic palette. You’ve got an eye for this, little maid.” Phoebe blushed at the compliment, though she noted that if they’d gone with her original choices, Jazz would probably be going into heat right now.

 

“It’s not–” Jazz gasped upon adjusting her sitting position. “...that bad. At least I can still think.”

 

Celosia grinned. “Yes, but you’re forgetting the final, and best, ingredient.” 

 

She lowered herself into the water via vine with her hands on her hips, looking very proud of herself. “Me.”

 

The water spilled over the edge a bit on her entry; what had gone up to Jazz’s neck didn’t even reach Celosia’s waist. The way her shadow totally engulfed Jazz forced Phoebe’s class-E to do battle with her soaring heart rate, but Celosia quickly sank into the water and made herself comfortable along the edge. “I dunno, I’m not really feeling anything.”

“That’s because it doesn’t affect you, you overgrown– buh.” Celosia reached over to pet Jazz’s hair, scattering their thoughts into the wind and making the affini giggle.

 

Celosia did, however, turn back to Phoebe with a reassuring smile. “It really isn’t that bad, Amaranth; it’s quite pleasant, actually, if Jazz’s reaction is anything to go by. I promise I won’t tease you too indulgently.”

 

Phoebe took a deep breath, and let it out. This was why she was here, after all- other than the mission, of course, but she was trying very hard not to think about that. She stepped over the edge and lowered herself into the water.

 

Now that she’d been warned in advance about the particulars, she could almost feel the tainted water taking effect. Her vision seemed to soften, and flatten somewhat; she could feel herself tipping over, but couldn’t convince her brain to stop it. She was saved by one of Celosia’s vines, which simultaneously made her gasp quietly as the accursed pleasure of the previous day reared its head once more. 

 

“There we go, good maid,” Celosia crooned. “Come, sit next to your Mistress.” She winked playfully at Phoebe to confirm her facetiousness, but that didn’t stop the little terran from blushing brighter than Folia’s sun.

 

Celosia sat Phoebe next to Jazz before leaning back with a satisfied sigh, closing her eyes. “The water might not be doing much for me, but it’s enough just to see the two of you enjoying yourselves. Mammalian methods of relaxation are truly adorable, I have to say.”

 

Phoebe ran her hand through the water, marveling at the enhanced sensation. “Is this not the same stuff you drink?”

 

Celosia chuckled and opened one eye. “I like where your head’s at, dandelion, but even the Grand Folia Hotel isn’t going to rise to that level of hedonism.” Fair enough.

 

A familiar rhythm was beginning to permeate the water, cradling Phoebe’s body and nuzzling her bones. The culprit, eyes still closed, was determined to act as if she wasn’t up to anything. Phoebe considered giving Celosia a look to let her know she wasn’t slick, but to her surprise she realized she didn’t really mind.

 

She allowed herself to relax as she sagged against the wall of the tub, looking out at the rest of the cavernous spa floor. The rumbling subtly intensified in response, just enough to prove that it had noticed. 

 

Her first night at the Hotel had included her first hot shower in years; this was the most luxurious experience of her life. For the first time in a long, long time, she felt truly at peace.

 

There were plenty of sophonts in servant attire throughout the space; most of them were just chilling in the pools, but some were delivering food and drink, and Phoebe saw multiple giving massages and even sponge baths to underlings and affini alike (the latter of which apparently required two bathers). “Should I be doing something right now?”

“Yes,” Jazz answered her, plucking a sponge from a nearby sponge-plant, because of course that was a thing here, before tossing it in Phoebe’s direction. “Bathe me from head to toe, maid girl, and make it snappy.”

“The correct answer,” Celosia interrupted as she shorted Jazz’s thoughts with another head pat, “is no. It’s up to you, Amaranth, but you’re under no obligation to perform just because you’re wearing the costume, and I wasn’t planning on–”

“Sorry to intrude, but would you mind if we joined you?” 

 

Celosia’s gaze flicked sideways to somewhere behind Phoebe. The water went immediately still. Almost instinctively the girl turned to follow the affini’s line of sight, and was forced to strangle a yelp as a truck-sized mass of vines and leaves hauled itself onto the wide ledge of their tub. 

 

This affini was huge- gargantuan, even bigger than Celosia. Twelve feet, at least. She was triangular and top-heavy, such that she became more intimidating the farther one’s eyes traveled up her towering body, but with a certain immaculate balance to her proportions. The tangled mane of leaves cascading backward from her head mixed with her long natural cape until the two became indistinguishable. Never before had an affini reminded Phoebe so closely of a mighty tree.

 

Demanding of reverence as she was, it wasn’t the affini that had struck Phoebe senseless, but the floret standing beside her- and she was sure that if she turned around, she would catch Jazz looking equally pale. 

 

Despite only being a Terran, she had a remarkably similar presence; an impressive feat. She stood two meters tall- any further height was inhibited by her humbled posture- and she was toned, although the muscle had been recently paved over in places with thin fat. A woman deprived of her usual spartan diet and punishing workout regimen, and something Phoebe recognized as a sign of a rebel freshly cowed. 

 

That wasn’t all Phoebe recognized. Though they were beginning to heal, the scars decorating her face and abdomen were all too familiar. Her hair was short and scraggly, but untangled, and the history of fearsome snarls which had worn lines into her face was at odds with the timid look she was currently displaying.

 

She was wearing a florety swimsuit: a strappy bikini top pinned with ribbons and a matching bottom (which her tummy was just barely spilling over the top of) framed in a thin, frilly transparent material that wisped around her lower body like the steam from the tub. Plus her collar, obviously. All in all, she had the look of a wolf that had just been declawed and defanged, and didn’t know what to do with itself.

 

The reason, however, that Jazz and Phoebe were so stupefied by the terran’s presence was because she was Private Indra Pierce; arrogant jerk, personal bully of the pair and, when last Phoebe had seen her, starboard gunman of the Jungle’s Bane- her old ship.

 

The affini looked directly at Phoebe with eyes like sunlight piercing a canopy. “I’m sure you’ve heard of me, but I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting. Altiss Supra, Eighth Bloom, she/regis, and the cutie with me is Indra Supra- twenty-third floret. She/her and pet/pet’s.”

Stars above, was she collecting them?? Though now that Phoebe thought about it, two thousand years was a lot of time for collecting. Shitballs, Altiss was still looking at her.

 

“A-Amaranth Inlex, ma’am. Fourth floret, she/her.” She cringed a little for placing her (fake!) floret status before her own pronouns. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe I recognize your name?”

Altiss waved off her concern with a gesture. “No worries, dear,” she smiled, “that was a little presumptuous of me.”

 

“I’m the captain of the Phellos.”