Divaricated

“Stay with me, Katie.”

Thin starlight shafts shifted over the steel and plastic interior of the undersized Terran Cosmic Navy escape pod. The inherent silence of deep space was torn ragged by the low grind of rusted bearings in a failing life support unit's fan. Nobody could fix it. The fan itself hid behind a screwed-down grate held with long-siezed three millimetre security screws. Even if everything had been pristine, the only compatible tools had fallen with the Indomitable, and the expertise needed to rescue it belonged to the plants now. They weren't in the habit of helping stranded weedkillers.

Yes, Katie was distracting herself.

Her alternative option was paying attention to the shattered alien strewn across the escape pod's far side. Katie wasn't feeling ready to acknowledge that just yet.

She was still processing that which she had done.

The Terran Cosmic Navy Catastrophe-class Battlecruiser, Indomitable, was gone. Her home. Her hope. The one tool left against these monsters, these 'Affini', these Galactic conquerors, slavers, nightmares, these come to steal away who Katie was and leave of humanity broken wrecks.

At least Katie could comfort herself with the hope she'd taken a few of them out with her. That was more than most humans could say. It wouldn't turn the tide, but if Katie had learned anything over her long, difficult life, it was that struggling as yourself was better than letting somebody else decide who you were to be. She was always going to lose in the end. At least she'd lost standing strong.

The alien—the 'Thatch'—snapped its fingers before Katie's face, forcing her attention back to the present. Katie looked up to meet its unblinking, steady gaze twinkling over at her. “You were distracted for a moment. You are more attentive now. Tell me what it is that you are thinking.”

All the hairs on Katie's body bristled with its false familiarity. She slapped the hand away and glared. “I'm thinking that we might need each other's help to get out of this alive. I don't like you; you don't like me; but we're going to have to work together, yeah?” The second she got a chance to stab it in the back, Katie wouldn't hesitate. “That's what you said, right? You do have a plan to get us out of this?”

Its face looked like one of those magic eye puzzles. Leaf-plated bark in splattered shades conspired to imply a humanity in their edges and shadows. Katie knew it was an illusion, but it tricked her into seeing it all the same. “Oh yes, I certainly have a plan,” it purred. “It will take months to get us home. Months when we shall be alone together without end. As equals, of course. Just imagine it, kitten.”

It reached for Katie's face again. Something in its gaze held her fixed in place, unable or unwilling to push it away. It took her head in its massive palm and held her still. Katie let out a soft whimper, feeling the power that even an injured Affini could bring to bear. “Think forward for me. Let your imagination flow freely. You can do that for me, can't you? Of course you can. Such a good girl. Now, think.”

To her surprise, Katie found that she could imagine how their escape would go. Her eyes flicked off to the side on subconscious instinct as her imagination ran away with her. It flowed so easily that it could have been memories.

A life flashed before her eyes.

It would take only days for their uneasy truce to become an unstable alliance. Weeks before that alliance became a cautious friendship. Months until that friendship became reluctant reliance. The affini's plan would work, albeit not without its melodramatic bumps and twists, and they would be rescued.

Their reliance would turn to irresistible dependence. Hopeless need. Desperate want. It was as clear to Katie's mind as if she had lived every step, and every step seemed so reasonable taken in isolation. The path would be long enough that Katie would fail to notice when she stopped walking alongside it as an equal and started following at its heel. There would be no single moment where she could look to the steps before her and decide that she did not want to follow them, because every foreseeable step would naturally follow from the last.

The end result was no less her nightmare. The Katie at the end of that journey was not Katie.

The most horrifying part of all was that in Katie's imaginations she was finally happy. She knelt and she loved. She was grateful to get to exist as this creature's loyal, needy pet. The bitter regrets that weighed her down had sublimated into a taste for submission that would outlast the stars.

Katie saw herself kneeling before it, neck straining in her efforts to gaze into its eyes. It held a finger beneath her chin, speaking to her in a language she didn't even understand.

And she responded. Oh, but she responded. A burst of joyous animal enthusiasm. All of Katie's modern day problems seemed so far away, made utterly irrelevant by a fundamental change in priorities. Any concern from before she had been taken felt thin and pointless. They simply didn't matter in the face of the most important person in the universe. The only important person in the universe.

Thatch Aquae smiled down at her, reaching over to scratch Katie behind the ear, dragging her attention back out of her reverie. Stars, but it was so beautiful. The inhuman tilt of its satisfied smile. The thousand facets of its barely glowing eyes reflecting in the cosmic infinity surrounding them. It knew just where to scratch to make Katie the happiest pet in the galaxy.

Katie could simply go along with its plan and she knew, somehow, that she would end up its blissfully content toy. Everything would be okay. Forever. It would never allow her to suffer.

She would also be utterly, fundamentally not herself. It would take her fire; her anger; her goals; her dreams; even her very name.

Katie scrambled, knocking the alien's hand away as she backed into one of the many seats lining the walls. The creature she foresaw at this “Thatch”'s heels was somebody else. She cared about nothing that Katie cared about. She believed not only that their conquerors were right, but that she could help the continued subjugation of the universe. She looked at this creature and she saw its beauty.

Katie closed her eyes, shaking her head in the hopes of clearing it. She looked over at the alien once more. Its satisfaction now just seemed smug. Its eyes were mottled like an insect's. The ease with which it manipulated Katie's body was a threat, not a promise. She saw a vision of her own potential future and it was a nightmare. A purring toy at an owner's heel, trapped for the rest of her unnaturally extended life. It would take who she was and leave something wrong in her place and it would not allow her even the escape of death.

“Fuck that,” Katie spat. “Hell no. You'd turn me into your thing.”

The anger faded with her retort's echo. Probably Katie was overreacting. This alien had actually seemed fairly reasonable, so far. Katie was rejecting her own imagination. She felt almost silly for accepting her vision uncritically. The alien didn't seem interested in doing anything to her that she hadn't asked fo—

Katie's back slammed against the pod's hull. Her vision was knocked swimming, whole body reeling from the blow. It pushed hard enough that the metal inner wall groaned under the strain. “Yes, I will,” it cooed. “Did you really think you had any other options? Did you really think we could spend so much time together without you discovering that desperate little seed inside you yearning to be mine?”

“A seed you'd plant!” Katie argued, squirming beneath its vine. For all its force, it wasn't holding her down very well. She had a lot of wiggle room. It must be more injured than it looked.

“Correct,” it admitted, with an easy shrug. “What difference does that make? That you do not want it? Forgive me if my sympathy is limited, pet, but I am unwilling to wait for you to decide what it is that you want. I will not lie to you even once, because what purpose could I have in lying to my own property?”

Katie opened her mouth to argue further.

“Oh, quiet,” it demanded, silencing her. “For the longest time I doubted my own urges. I could not justify them to myself. I had never truly understood why we treated feral florets the way we do until this very moment.” It leaned closer, bringing its head level with Katie's. “You are offensive to me, little toy. You are such potential and you waste it. We Affini say that all the universe's life is beautiful. We are romantic fools.”

Its eyes shifted, inspecting Katie's body. After a moment, it met her eyes and inspected her very soul. On a fingernail's tip, Katie's chin lifted. “You will be beautiful. I do not accept your status quo.”

“Don't I get a say in that?”

It chuckled, bringing up a sharpened needle to the side of Katie's neck. “Why would you?”

“Because that beauty you want isn't me! You don't want me, you want something that looks like me but is nothing like me!” Katie cried, trying to wriggle out of its grip, or to reach something useful, or anything.

“Worry not, little one. I shall show you what it is that you are underneath all the pain. I am going to tear that little body of yours apart and entwine you so deeply within my own will that you shan't even feel without my permission.” It raised a hand, holding a short, sharp thorn between its fingertips. “We call this a Haustoric Implant. I myself do not care for our labels; this is my own design and quite unique. Let us simply say that you will find it very convincing.”

Katie writhed beneath its vine, but it was holding her too firmly to escape. She was going nowhere. “Can- Can I just ask one thing, first? Please?” Katie begged, looking up with wide eyes.

“I suppose,” it agreed, flashing an awkward, inhuman grin while wiggling its sharpened tool at the edge of Katie's vision. “Argue; submit; try trickery or deceit; it matters not. You are going to adore me and your helpless pleas are sure to amuse the thing that you will be when I am done with you.”

“Oh, no, no, no fighting. I was just gonna ask if you knew what this lever did?” Katie tapped her knuckle against the largest breaker in the pod. Whole inches long, with a thick metal handle heavy enough Katie would never be able to pull it without help.

The alien shrugged. “I do not, but—”

Katie would never move it without help. Thankfully, she had it. Katie braced herself against the creature's vine and pulled, using the thing's own strength against it. For a single nerve-wracking moment the metal refused to move and the creature holding her began to laugh, probably preparing to remind Katie what a pathetic, insignificant creature she was compared to it, or something like that. Katie fixed that image in her mind and drew strength from anger. The switch began to move.

“Wait, no, don't—” The creature reached out to stop her, but it was much too late for that. Terran Navy breakers, as a rule, activated much earlier than one might expect. It had been some bureaucrat's bright idea to help them all work faster, and to Katie's surprise, once in her life something those fucking pen-pushers back on Terra forced upon her actually helped.

The breaker hit its stops with a loud metal clunk. The affini's words trailed off as the pod finally fell silent. The comforting whirr of life support halted. The hum of the faltering backup generator died out. There was just silence.

“Be seeing you, weed.” Katie smiled up at the affini a moment before the pod door slammed open and all the oxygen in the room left at speed enough to yank the large and not particularly aerodynamic affini along with it. It popped out into space like a particularly ugly bullet from a particularly improvised gun. Katie gripped tight the strap of the nearest seat for dearest life, knowing that if her strength failed her she would be dead in seconds.

The instant the creature was gone Katie threw her weight against the breaker again, slamming the airlock door shut. The schematics for those things would have claimed that it was an electrical connection that bridged command and consequence, but for the effort Katie needed to give it she could have sworn it was direct mechanical action.

With the door closed, she burst into action. By good fortune, they had landed within range of a habitable planet, and by sheer luck the alien had pressed Katie up against the controls when it had decided to stop pretending to be polite. Katie dialled in a burn that would take her down safely, and flicked life support back on so that she could stop holding her breath in the thin remaining atmosphere.

The air circulator began to turn, but quickly stuttered and jammed. Katie looked at the static fan in horror for a long moment, repeatedly flicking the system on and off to no result. With almost all the pod's oxygen vented into space and no more coming to replenish it, Katie realised she had perhaps a dozen seconds remaining before she slipped into unconsciousness. No time to fix the problem. No time for anything, really.

She hurried down to a seat, rapidly strapped herself in, and hit the main engine's ignition, crossing her fingers that that, at least, would actually work.

Katie lost consciousness to the unmistakable sensation of a hard burn.

---

Ships breaking around her. Falling. Wind in her ears. The horrifying sensation of feeling like she was in microgravity, while the ground beneath rushed up to dissuade her of that. The nightmarish instant of collision. Silence.

Katie Sahas snapped awake, scrambling to her feet before she'd even realised she was no longer dreaming. Her heart beat so hard that she felt like the staccato thumps would knock her back down. She was alive. She was alive. She was—

Katie backed away, stumbling as she took in the burning wreckage of the xeno menace scattered amongst what remained of their escape pod. It must have grabbed onto the outside shell, but it couldn't possibly have survived re-entry. It couldn't have. Nothing could.

Katie was alone on a distant world. She felt still the heat of a shattering battleship burning all around her. Perhaps, yes, there had been a brief moment of pause and parley entombed within that hopeless rescue shuttle, but Katie had been negotiating with an alien conqueror. She had almost been taken in by its alien charms and charismatic mannerisms. Almost. It had overplayed its hand and that hubris had been its downfall.

It had been too dangerous to underestimate the thing, Katie told herself. She couldn't have taken the chance of letting it live. She'd done the right thing. It had been it or her, and she'd wo—

The remains of the beast stirred, sloughing off sheets of scorched matter and burned flora as it rose to sit. Narrow red eyes cut through the darkness as it scanned the area. Katie froze, not daring even to breathe. Perhaps she could have rationalised her response, but it wasn't a rational one. The first time they had clashed, it had been pretending at politeness and Katie had barely come out on top. Now?

Something in the way it moved provoked animal fear. Back on the escape pod it had been pretending at humanity and failing, moving with awkward, overly precise shifts, one limb at a time. That humanity lay abandoned in the wreckage, and it now moved with sinuous ease. Katie felt panic growing in the back of her mind. She had found herself fewer than ten meters from an apex predator with nowhere to hide. Introspection had to come second to base survival. Perhaps if Katie didn't move it wouldn't notice her.

There were stories of what happened to people who tried to fight the affini one on one. They never had happy endings. This wasn't a fight Katie could win; she had to run. If there was one remaining advantage humanity could draw upon then it was pragmatism. Say what you would about the devastation left in its wake, but never claim humanity didn't know how to fight dirty. These monsters with their fancy ships and advanced tech could have never known human brutality, but Katie could be this one's teacher.

But first, she had to run. Retreat, regroup, ready herself for the fight.

Why wasn't she running?

To run, Katie would have to look away. If she looked away then she wouldn't know where it was. If she didn't know where it was, it would chase her down and devour her whole.

But she had to run.

But she couldn't.

But she had to.

It stretched out, and in an instant Katie's attention fixed itself entirely in place. There was something wrong about the way it moved. It still had pieces of its humanlike facade, but its movements didn't follow humanlike rules: Its arm bent where there should be bone; Legs twisted where they should not have; Its whole tangled nest of thorns expanded outwards for a horrifying moment before snapping back into place with an audible crack.

Katie flinched, taking in a tiny gasp as a spike of adrenaline forced a backwards step.

Blazing red eyes found her. Even from across the clearing Katie made out the moment of sharp focus as the beast reciprocated attention.

Jagged teeth bared. Katie saw its eyes in unimaginable detail, the razor clarity of the beast's teeth searing into her memory. Attention focused down to a single, sharp point. Instincts screamed danger. The alien mouth dripped with caustic fluid, promising nothing but pain and desolation.

She should run.

She should fucking run.

The beast moved, prowling forward on incorrect footsteps with a slowly enlarging grin visible around its many, many teeth. Katie found herself pinned under its gaze as it stalked towards her with the lazy grace of a predator that knew it had the control. It stank of power.

Katie couldn't run.

Katie couldn't fucking run.

As it neared it unfolded, bearing blades by the dozen from beneath the thick covering of leaves across its back. A thousand savage vines dotted with serrated thorns spread out to surround Katie in an almost gentle embrace.

Almost.

Thorn-tips pressed on skin. Not one so firm that it did harm, but each was a threat and it was too many threats to count. Katie begged her body to still. She tried not to breathe. She'd always relied on her wit and intelligence to get her out of tough situations but her brain dare not even think for fear it would offend the creature and she would be snapped up.

Sharpened edges carved through the thick fabric of Katie's Terran Cosmic Navy engineering staff uniform, slicing away her only protection against this thing. Still Katie utterly failed to do more than stand staring into the eyes of a monster, left with nothing but the hope she could make herself too uninteresting to eat.

The tearing sound ceased only as Katie's uniform fell, dropping around her ankles and leaving her wearing only singed and torn underclothes. The thorns began to cut those too. It was almost methodical, the way Katie's defences were sundered one at a time while she did fucking nothing. She had to do something. She had to. Red-hot alarm signals screamed from her nerves, demanding Katie's utter attention. Any human being had needs and instincts. The threat of immediate physical harm overrode almost all of them. All her intelligence and bravado amounted to nothing when the moment she needed them most came.

“As I was saying, creature, you are powerless to change that which I am to do to you. My decision is made, and all that is left is to see how it is to be carried out,” the beast purred, unfurling. Any pretence of humanity vanished as it took on a sharper, sleeker form. Almost serpentine, with a tail twice Katie's height and a mouthful of fanged rows that looked like they could tear off an arm without breaking stride. “How long will it be until you realise your decisions no longer matter?”

It chuckled, low enough that Katie felt the vibrations in her chest despite her only actual points of contact being razor thorns. “Tell me. How are you feeling now that we are here?”

Katie stared up, lips parted, breaths unsteady. If she gave the impression that she was thinking, then it was unintentional and baseless. If she appeared as if she were working herself up for an answer, that too had no grounding. There was nothing happening behind her eyes but panicked loops of pointless thought. She should run. She should fight. She did nothing.

A single vine curled in around her neck. Its thorn drew slowly—slowly—under Katie's chin. It already had her attention, but there was something clarifying about a blade at one's neck. The beast rumbled. “You will find no bastion in silence here, little one. Nobody is coming to save you. Nobody can hear your pleas but me, and I will never tire of hearing them. Speak.” The vine shifted with a crack, scoring a sharp line across Katie's skin.

Just like that, all her frozen terror sublimated into action. What was it that the Indomitable's captain had tried to hammer into them? If they were captured, give only name and rank. Enough to process a prisoner of war but not enough to put your fellow crew in danger.

Katie opened her mouth to speak, but she didn't get even the first syllable out before the thorn pressed back down and Katie's reality collapsed into one hyperfocused point. The cutting edge shifted, drawing a sharp white line up her skin as the creature forced Katie's chin up to meet its piercing gaze.

“Now now, let us not start off our next chapter with that. Your former training is of no value here, Katie.” A forked tongue snapped out, running across wooden teeth and moistening floral lips. The blade's edge pressed harder against the skin. “Tell me how it is that you are feeling,” it insisted, each word enunciated clear and firm in an accent that was utterly alien.

“T— Terrified,” Katie admitted, in a gasp. It was against her training. It was against her desires. It was against her instincts. None of those things made a stars-damned difference when she had metaphorical teeth at her throat, millimetres from spilling her blood. Katie's eyes shifted across the thing's mouth. Maybe it wouldn't be a metaphor for long.

“Understood,” the creature replied, with a surprising lack of malice. Almost a smile, it seemed, for a moment. “Good. Do you remember what it is that I am going to do to you?” Ah, and there was the malice. The sibilant hiss in its speech; the lips that pulled back to bare teeth. Katie would have shied away but there was nowhere to go.

It was going to tear her apart. It was going to turn her into the thing it wanted her to be. It was going to take everything that Katie was and shred it, all while claiming some insane moral high ground.

No. No! Things were not going to end like this! Drawing on reserves Katie hadn't known she had she took a deep, shaking breath and forced herself to meet the monster's eyes. She couldn't freeze. She couldn't flee. She had to fight. An unarmed human had no chance physically, but humans were more than just brawn. “You- You're not allowed to hurt me: we have a treaty!” Katie insisted, trying to hold her gaze steady in the hopes it would miss her fragility.

“Oh.” The plant hesitated for a moment, momentum faltering. Its body fractionally sagged, sharpened points pulling infinitesimally away. Perhaps most wouldn't have noticed, but all Katie's focus was on the razor points dotting her skin and she felt the slightest shift like it was her own body.

It was a surge of hope. The creature hadn't expected her to know her rights! Humanity would prevail! The cursed weeds might have the better ships, but it was human ingenuity that would be victorious in the end!

Almost sheepish, it pulled back, carefully uncurling its vines one at a time from around Katie's body as her heart beat at double-time to burn off the now-unnecessary adrenaline. It squirmed in place, uncoiling, and then slithered forward at a pace that Katie would have found alarming if it had been allowed to hurt her. It had a predator's grace, moving in a loose and lazy circle with Katie at its center. She tried not to follow it as it left her sight, but after a moment found the instinctive fear of having her back to the beast was too great.

She turned. Screamed, briefly, as she found its snout inches from her head. It breathed out, and hot, damp air rolled over her face, stifling the scream into choked silence.

“Of course,” it purred, raising the tip of a vine to wrap gently around Katie's chin and force her back up to meet its six burning eyes. “We are not in Terran space, are we, toy? And even if; you are not protected by that treaty.”

The grip tightened and Katie's awareness snapped back into focus as it drew another thorn across her cheek. Lightly. Leaving no mark.

“Are you, morsel?” Its upper lip twitched, curling up, showing off its glistening teeth. It was fucking with her. It had to be fucking with her. What sort of incompetent negotiator would have signed a treaty that didn't offer Katie protection here where she obviously so desperately needed it?

“I- um—” Katie tried to moisten her suddenly bone-dry lips, and drew again on the well of resolve that a lifetime of survival had granted her. “You– You can't hurt me,” she promised, largely to herself. She was safe. It was toying with her. It hadn't even broken the skin.

The creature shifted the edge of its thorn and sliced sharp across Katie's cheek, scoring a deep red line from across her face. The girl flinched away, crying out and reaching to cover the wound on self-protective instinct. Her fingers came away bloody. Katie froze in place, staring down at her hand, feeling the sudden weight of a predator making a point.

“Silly little animal,” it whispered, circling once again to ensure Katie stayed entirely within its coils. Nowhere to run. No way to fight. “Thinking that paper and words have any real meaning.” It had a sharp laugh. Sharper blades held gently brushed down Katie's arms. She flinched, gasping as it drew thin, curving, white lines into her skin. The lighter touch had seemed like a hint of safety before, but now Katie just felt like the beast wanted to play with its food. She fought the urge to allow her shaking knees to buckle. “You can have your little treaty,” it continued, hissing into her ear. “You can make your little promises. All of you can play with feeling like your surrender was a compromise.”

Coils pulled in, wrapping Katie in pure floral muscle. They squeezed hard enough she could barely breathe, lifting her from the ground and entirely into this thing's power. Endless teeth were a twitch from her skin. She could taste its intensity of gaze and hear its hot, damp breath clamming on her skin. “I don't care,” it hissed. “I have never cared for playing with words. You will be a much more enjoyable plaything.” Its tongue flicked forwards to scrape against Katie's cheek, stealing away the heat of her blood and the sweat of her fear.

Katie whimpered.

Was that it? Was that all she could do to fight? Thirty years of struggle and strife, learning and building skills and fighting for a better life and it all came down to this one moment, and none of it mattered because the other one had bigger teeth.

Katie's feet hit the floor as its coils relaxed. Her quivering knees immediately proved they couldn't take the weight, collapsing her onto all fours. This was it. There was no way out. Shaking hands tried to cover her head in some hopeless defense, but even that was denied. Vines gripped her wrists and pulled her hands down into the dirt. Impossibly strong fingers grabbed Katie by the hair and yanked her head back, forcing her attention exactly where the creature wanted it.

It grinned down. A hanging line of saliva suspended between two rows of teeth broke, splashing Katie's face with some caustic fluid that burned her skin. Even then, she managed no more than a terrified whimper. She stared upwards, whole face quivering, helpless, with a blood soaked tear rolling down her cheek.

“Beautiful,” hissed the affini. “But this is the part where you run.” It turned her head to a gap in its coils. It patted Katie's butt and pushed her towards freedom and she lacked the thought to question it. She ran, or at least, she tried to stand, but just stumbled back down to all fours. Hand before foot, she scrambled away, moving as quickly as she could manage until she reached a tree that she could brace herself against.

Katie fled, unable or unwilling to look back. Every crack of twig or gust of wind was a sign it was right behind, an instant from striking her down. Adrenaline burned in Katie's veins, blood slamming through her body with the hammer blows of her own heart shaking the world. She moved with the unsustainable ferocity of a creature fearful of its own end. The human body would gladly tear itself apart if it meant survival.

The forest resolved into trees one step at a time. The blur beneath Katie's feet became thick undergrowth. The tension in her sides became stabbing pain as her body ran low on its capacity to push through the stress. Eventually, Katie put her foot down and found no purchase. She cried out, sent stumbling to the side to crash against a tree.

The forest fell silent. She girl squeezed shut her eyes and waited to be caught. Nothing came. The only sounds on the air were the gentle rustle of leaves, the soft buzz of the early evening's insect life, and Katie's own panting breath. She dared to look behind and despaired. Between the trampled leaves, broken stems, and shattered twigs her path couldn't have been clearer.

No. No, Katie couldn't just run. There was nowhere to run to, and it would find her. She couldn't hide, she couldn't fight. If Katie wanted to survive this she needed to run smart, not far. She had to figure out how to stay ahead of it. Okay. Katie closed her eyes and tried to centre herself. She had to think about this. Human ingenuity, right? Her trail was too obvious. The beast hadn't kept up with her, so either it was slower than it seemed or Katie had lost it, but she couldn't rely on either case protecting her forever. Humans had been endurance hunters, once, and that was how she would win: Perseverance and well-applied intelligence. She started moving more carefully, trying not to leave the same signs, but quickly realised that the end of her trail would be a clear hint as to what she'd done.

Katie took a deep breath. She was fighting something stronger and more dangerous than she was. If she fought it on its terms she would lose, every time. So, how did you beat a superior foe? You cheated. Katie wasn't much of a military strategist, but she'd spent long enough near them that she'd picked up the basics.

The details were vague, though. It had been only hours since Katie had been at her workstation on the Indomitable, so why did it all feel so distant? The fall must have been worse than she'd thought, though Katie supposed she was lucky to have survived at all. A concussion was the last thing Katie needed, but only having a concussion after a bad crash was nothing short of miraculous.

Besides, this was how the stories went. The worse the odds, the better the dramatic reversal. The heroine moved back down along her trail with intentional steps, hyperaware every moment of just how exposed she was. It was a risk that needed taking. The weeds had barely shown any understanding of proper military tactics. They forced victory through overwhelming technological might. This alien had been stripped of her tricks. Katie had a chance, if she could just get a few tricks of her own together.

After several tense minutes Katie turned from her path and began to move even more carefully, trying to leave no trail at all. She watched her step, avoiding damaging anything that wouldn't just bounce back. She'd picked up a lot of outdoors experience during her time on—

Katie winced, lifting a hand to her temple. She hadn't stepped foot on a planet in half a decade, and even then it'd been the urban hell of a Canning World. She'd never even seen a forest… hadn't she?

Something was wrong. Katie needed somewhere to rest for the night where she could figure out what to do next. A few minutes of careful hiking brought her to a hill, and half hour more found a cave that led deeper underground. She'd tried to walk along the side of the incline, hoping to find somewhere to hide. She'd be okay after a good night's sleep, probably. The cave was cool, quiet, and dark. More important than comfort, it would hide her from sight. She could camp out here, then sneak out before the sun rose. If she moved at night she'd have less chance of being spotted. A plan was forming. Finally, Katie sat back and let her tension unwind, letting out a long sigh.

It had been a very, very long day, and one that felt like it had lasted two lifetimes. First, her own, which had flashed before her eyes more times than she dared to count in the last several hours. How many times had she narrowly escaped death today? Five? Katie's luck couldn't hold forever.

Secondly, the other life that had been offered to her. It seemed like a monster's fantasy. As if Katie could come to know, and even to love, a tangled beast of barbs and bristles. The thing she had seen wasn't her. To become it would be to sacrifice so much of what she was. Katie shook her head, groaning, and let her head flop bonelessly to one side.

“Hmn,” a voice hissed, inches from her ear. “Good. Enjoyed your little walk, pet? I am glad I could predict where it was that you would run.”

Katie's head snapped around, but it was much too late for that. The creature's weight slammed her bodily into the dirt. She let out a cry as it forced the air from her lungs, pressing down against her with a heaviness great enough Katie found herself fighting for every breath.

Katie had been wrong. It hadn't been chasing her at all.

“H- how…?” she whispered, spending some of her precious air to ask a pointless question.

She could feel the answer's breath rushing against her skin, the thing was so close. “I know you,” it hissed. “Down to the bones. You ran because it amused me and you will stop because I require it.” It wasn't spoken like a threat, or even like a promise. It was matter-of-fact reality delivered in sharp whisper.

Katie didn't want to do anything this creature said, but what she wanted didn't matter. She had tried running, and it had led her here. She had tried freezing up, and it had left her helpless. Fighting was the only fear response Katie had left.

She screamed, clawing and scratching at any vine that dared come close. The creature flinched backwards, as if surprised by the ferocity, and Katie pressed that advantage. She scrambled to her feet, grabed a sharp looking rock from the cave floor, and brought it up just in time to catch the sharpened edge of a thorn. For a moment, they held still, straining against one other. It had the better strength, but it had been in hiding. Katie had the better leverage.

Human ingenuity. Katie didn't need to be better, she just needed its superiority not to matter.

It pulled back, and for a moment Katie had freedom and a clear path to the outside world.

But Katie was done running.

She threw herself into the attack, going for the eyes. This was life or death, and in war ethics were a problem for whoever remained.

Katie swung, exploiting an opening, and overstretched. In seconds the tide turned, and every movement she made found its counter. Her punch was met with a vine around the wrist, guiding her arm out to the side. She clawed at its face, but it met her with a gentle hand that Katie could do nothing to stop.

She twisted her torso around, hoping to get herself some purchase, but the creature moved with her, dropping Katie down to one knee while using the girl's own movement to force her arm up behind her back. One vine came in to hold it in place, and another to bind her leg together. She tried to kick off with her other leg, but found her ankles bound.

Where Katie pulled, a vine appeared or adjusted to prevent her from relaxing. Where she pushed, her restraints allowed her to overextend, where she was locked back in place. If she shifted her torso the pressures holding her shifted too, stealing her leverage and leaving her so far off balance that soon her efforts were more focused on preventing herself from collapsing in on herself than they were on escape.

Katie tried to swear, and all she got for her trouble was a pair of fingers slipping in to hold her tongue in place.

Even biting down was impossible. One nail pointed down into the soft bottom of her mouth, and another up into the roof. Katie failed to stifle a pained gasp, trying to ignore the sweet flavours staining her tongue. Her struggles grew weaker, not because she lacked the will to fight but because she only ever got to try the same thing once.

Finally, Katie fell still, barely able even to twitch as she strained her muscles against binds that denied her her own strength. She breathed hard, putting all of her remaining energy into a glare that could have burned through steel.

“Control,” the creature gloated, “is about understanding.” It reached over and scratched a helpless Katie on the head, right where an itch had been making itself apparent.

Most of Katie's binds fell away. Those that remained held her hopeless, unable to take advantage of that ostensible freedom. Any point of articulation that was actually free to articulate was too busy straining against Katie's own weight to be of any use. She was entirely still, and yet sweat already rolled down her cheeks.

A vine shifted to wrap carefully around Katie's throat, squeezing with a barely perceptible pressure. Katie could do nothing about it. She couldn't even squirm. Her back was already bent as far as she could take it. “Your society always got this one wrong. They thought that control was about force. You understand that, right?” With two fingers in her mouth and a thumb beneath her chin, Katie's face was its toy. It had her nod. “Good girl, of course you do. You lived under it, you've felt that force all your life. Is it any wonder you feel the need to fight me?”

Philosophy meant nothing to Katie's panicking mind. She couldn't freeze. She couldn't flee. She couldn't fight. She dared not even move her eyes, lest they be restricted too. All she could do was stare up into the monster's glowing orbs. She had no options left. She was stuck.

“No wonder the Terrans lost,” it gloated. “No wonder you are losing.” It stared into Katie's eyes as if it wanted something.

Katie didn't know what it meant. She hadn't the brainpower to spare. Her position wasn't stable. With the extraneous vines removed, Katie had freedom to move, but every one of her free muscles was straining to hold herself in place. Her body was held in such a position that to relax anything would mean putting that pressure onto another part of herself, and her every limb was barely coping. The beast had placed itself in her line of sight and Katie wouldn't look away. It had made her a willing component of her snare, because the alternative was more than she could bear.

It wanted something from her. It was the only explanation that made any sense. Why else would it be bothering to talk?

“Please,” Katie mumbled around the digits holding down her tongue. It sounded like little more than a helpless cry. The vine holding her neck tightened, cutting off her words and leaving breathing impossible.

“Yes,” it purred. “You understand. You always have, deep down. Quick to see the truth; quicker to grasp that control for yourself. Do you think you are so unique? What are you but another human on whom I can sharpen my thorns?” Katie hadn't dared to react. It seemed to know regardless. What was it talking about? It was speaking nonsense while she asphyxiated. Katie was going to die at the hands of a monster. It leaned in close while Katie's vision faded. “I shall reveal nothing to you. You are a clever thing; you figure it out.”

Why was it doing this? Why did it even care? It spoke as if it knew her and it backed that up with actions, but all the while telling Katie how little she was worth the effort it was spending on her. It had let her run, only to prove it had already known where to. It had let her fight, only to prove it could have stopped her at any moment. Its words didn't explain its actions. If what Katie wanted was truly irrelevant, then why was she still here?

She was being played with. It was trying to keep her from noticing something. “Please,” she begged, forcing out a word on borrowed air. The creature's fingers lifted, just a little, so she could at least talk around them. Katie had something to bargain with, she just needed to figure out what. “Please, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have fought. I shouldn't have run. I shouldn't have— I should have just answered your questions. Please, I'll tell you anything you want to know. I'll do whatever you want, please just don't hurt me any more. I'll—”

The beast chuckled, lowering its hand again to silence her. The vine around her neck loosened, just enough that she could force in light breaths if she tried. “Yes, there's that spark of understanding that I love so much. Understanding is control, and I understand you. Let us see how well you are keeping up. You understand that you cannot run, you cannot fight, and you cannot freeze. You are a simple creature. Which instinctual response to fear have you left?”

“Fawn,” Katie whimpered, with a moment's extra freedom to speak. “Please, let me help. I can be useful. We're both stuck here; please let me help you get back home,” she begged, speaking quickly. She knew that any moment her speech could be taken again.

The beast raised three eyebrows and pulled her fingers free—pausing to wipe them on the girl's cheek—so that Katie could speak without interruption. “Oh? And how could I possibly trust you? You tried to hurt me, kitten. I think you should apologise for that.”

“I'm sorry!” Katie gasped. “I'm really sorry, I didn't know what I was doing! I thought— It doesn't matter what I thought; I just— I won't do it again! Please, I— Mmnf!” A pair of fingers slipping between her lips cut her off mid-word. It didn't believe her. Of course it didn't believe her! It was much stronger than Katie was and she'd never stood a chance, and she'd fought anyway. Reckless. She should have just done what it said from the start. Maybe then it would trust her. She just had to show it that she understood! That she had that control it was talking about!

Katie's tongue found itself nestled against the fingers again, but this time through her choice, not the affini's. Its fingers had a rough texture and a gentle taste. Surprisingly, it wasn't unpleasant. Katie lapped against it, hoping to prove she could be trusted through sheer force of worship, if nothing else would work. This thing was above her. She knew it. It knew it. That understanding gave her control.

“Ah, such a good girl,” the creature purred. “But unfortunately for you, I have no use for your worship. You might ask why, then, I bothered to give you a little more control by leading you to understanding?”

The serpent shrugged and tightened its grip around her neck. “I required a distraction.”

Points of blinding pain dug in along Katie's arm, and for all the creature kept its grip tight, Katie still managed to scream. It was all-consuming; burning points of agony demanded every scrap of attention Katie had to give and more besides. She couldn't handle it. Her focus slipped, her body spasmed, the pain grew unbearable as Katie's body fell out of its stable position entirely. She couldn't handle this. Something in her was going to break. This was more than she could bear.

“Almost more than you can bear,” the beast whispered, curling in around Katie's body to support the parts of her that she could not support herself. It brushed a few ragged clumps of sweat-soaked hair from Katie's sticky forehead. It was holding her still, helping her fight her body's urge to twitch and tear itself apart. It let Katie pull in with her every limb, though she couldn't move an inch. The harder she pulled the easier it was to convince herself the alien had control enough to avoid destroying her. It hurt so much. Katie had to trust in something that she could get through this.

“I know, I know,” it cooed, stroking down Katie's back even as her mind faded and her body burned. “It hurts. It is so much. You do not think that you can handle it.”

It weakened its grip around Katie's neck for a breathspan, just enough to gulp down a lungful of air and not a second more more. It helped, but all Katie's body wanted to do with it was scream. “But you can,” it promised, holding her in its protective shell. Its vine clamped down around her neck again, silencing the scream before it escaped, helping Katie to keep her vital breath within. “I know you can handle this. I will require nothing of you that you do not have to give.”

Its embrace was soft, even warm. Where before its grip had felt stifling and restrictive, now Katie saw how much easier this was to bear with something holding her up. Nothing had changed within the beast, but Katie had some control here. She could choose how to interpret it. Katie chose to cling to its comfort. It was all that could get her through the pain. Her tears were its. Her whimpers were its. She was its. She had to be. She would falter, otherwise.

“There we go,” it spoke, rumbling into Katie's ear from no distance at all. Her teeth ground against each other, eyes squeezed shut to try to block out the pain, as if being blind to it was the same as it going away. “Just a little more,” it promised. Katie focused herself, knowing it would be over soon.

Over agonising minutes, the pain receded. With it went much of the feeling in one of Katie's arms. Exhausted, she began to slip as muscles weakened and she failed to carry her own weight entirely. Just like with any other movement it was quickly accounted for. The beast cradled her, preventing her from twisting into positions that would hurt her further. Katie didn't know if her arm was held or hanging limp. She couldn't feel it. She couldn't even turn her head. She was helpless in its grip, awash in a flood of endorphins and relief. It was over.

Even half-blind with exhausion, the presence surrounding her was unmissable. “There we go. Good girl. Such a good girl for me, hmn?” It whispered directly into her ear from an inch away. It had her. She was wrapped in its binds, in its coils, in its control.

Katie tried, fruitlessly, to protest. She wasn't a good girl. She hadn't had a choice in this. She was just a victim, and one lucky enough to survive, at least for now, by this thing's mercy.

The plant paused, running a finger up the side of Katie's torso with a luxurious lack of haste. “Oh, do not give me that, kitten. We both know that you are.” It raised a finger to the cut on Katie's cheek and drew a wooden nail across the line. Its captive whined, strained nerves complaining yet again. “I know,” it cooed, “My manipulation of you is wholly transparent. How useful that it works nonetheless.” It brought its stained finger to Katie's lips and waited a moment for her to clean it. “But the problem is, my precious thing, that I shall need to do that again before you are to be irrevoccably mine.”

Katie whimpered. She tried to shake her head and the monster moved her vines and her hand in time to allow it. She tried to speak, but the creature's fingers trailed gently across her lips, silencing her. It was crystal clear how firmly she was in its power. She stared upwards, finally allowed to look towards it again, helplessly pleading for an opportunity to beg. It looked down with calm, patient eyes. She looked back up with desperation.

After a few moments, its fingers fell away. Permission granted.

“Please,” Katie spluttered “I don't— I won't— I can't. I surrender. I- You can have me. You have me. I can't fight you. I won't fight you. You don't have to do this.”

“I do not,” it agreed, with a smile. “And I will not.” There was a moment almost soft. Just a moment, before its smile twisted into a grin. “Not until you ask me nicely.”

The creature was clearly insane, Katie decided. The stresses of its unjust war had driven it mad. “Why would I—”

The alien silenced her with the rise of imperious eyebrows, then turned Katie's head to see the arm she could no longer feel. “Wh– What?” Katie whimpered, eyes flicking across its surface. She had felt the thorns stab within her, and quite clearly they had. Three thorns firmly pierced her skin, but the wounds looked little like she had expected them to. They were clean, bloodless. The surrounding skin was hardly distressed at all, with only a little sore pinkness around the edges.

From the thorns, thick, dark green spread out through her veins, staining underneath her skin. Its procession was slow enough as to be barely perceptible as moving at all, yet with each heartbeat it moved inexorably forward, corrupting her veins and taking her body.

The faster the beating of Katie's heart, the faster it would take her. She had to stay calm, she—

Katie forced her gaze away, back to the monster that was doing this to her. “Why can't I feel it?” she asked, voice strained. She was getting some feeling back, but there was something crawling beneath her skin. Surely she should feel that too?

The alien stroked a pair of fingers down Katie's injured arm, carefully avoiding her wounds. She couldn't help but gasp in response. She may not be feeling whatever had been implanted within her, but her skin was incredibly sensitive. She strained against her bondage, breathing hard, feeling her heart's thumps and imagining her corruption feeding off of every one.

“By now, the seed has begun to intercept and mediate parts of your nervous system. You do not hurt because I do not wish you to be in pain right now.” The monster smiled, drawing Katie's gaze back up to her emulation of a humanlike smile with gentle, caring fingers. “A moment of rest lets that brain of yours soak up all that useless adrenaline and convert it to comfort. To that beautiful sense of safety you are feeling. It is over, and you can relax into me.” Its vines curled tighter, cradling Katie in an embrace. She was permitted just enough freedom to either lean into it or away. Katie leaned in.

“If I kept you in constant agony then I would simply be performing torture.” It held Katie's chin up towards itself with one finger, using the others to slowly brush against the exposed skin of her neck, calming her. “It is that contrast that makes this effective at programming you. Your subconscious forgets who caused the hurt so it can love who brought the comfort.”

The smile's edge had sharpened as the beast had spoken, and Katie found herself staring with her heart beating harder than it ever had. Thump, thump, thump. Each and every one granted the creature more control.

“Programming?” Katie whispered. Thump. Thump. Thump. Katie couldn't see the stain spreading through her body, yet her imagination went wild, imagining it curling around her like posessive vines that could never be escaped. Did that thought feel comfortable, really? Or was it already changing how she felt?

“Training? That would likely be the usual word amongst my people.” The alien chuckled to itself, fingers brushing against Katie's arm held still for the moment. Gently—gently—it pressed down on just one of the thorns. Katie's face screwed up in pain as sharpened sensation lanced through her. Her breath was a sudden gasp let out over long moments in a weakening, broken whimper. A gentle hand stroked through her hair, providing the comfort Katie needed to bear it. “I know; I know. It hurts. I am here. You are safe. You can trust me.”

Katie's head had fallen forward at some point, but a vine pulled it back up. Her mouth didn't quite close and she was breathing too heavily to stay quiet. She nodded up at the creature rapidly, leaning into its grip as much as she was able. “You're here. I'm safe. Thank you.”

“Training is a much more Affini word. We do that a lot.” The affini shrugged. “Dress up our desires in pretty words and euphemism. We domesticate you. We turn you into florets. We give you treaties so that you can pretend that the choice was yours. We let some few imagine their independence, so long as they live under our rules and they do not violate our requirements.” It rolled all of its eyes. “Or happen to catch the eye of somebody willing to forgo the nicities to have them.”

It licked its lips, staring down at Katie for long moments. It was smiling, touching her with a gentle grip and softness. It also had its fingers resting against her thorn, a twitch away from filling Katie with agony yet again.

It leaned in closer and whispered directly into the girl's ear. “Are the soft words true? Of course they are, floret. We are only ever as forceful as we must be for the greater good. So we tell ourselves. So we have you believe. Your consent is vital, you understand, pet? That is why we are so good at forcing it out of you. We will always promise to stop at a word, but we'll have you ignore that we write your scripts. But we do hold to our promises.” It stroked its clawed hand through Katie's hair, moving carefully to work out some of the knots it itself had put there. “When we wish to.”

It leaned in further and its whisper became a barely comprehensible hiss. “And is that not just so dull?” Its hand grew firm, grasping Katie by the back of the head and forcing her neck backwards until she felt that even a single degree more would break her. “I know how you work. I know how to program you like the machine that you are. Why should I wait for you to realise what it is that you need? Why should I even pretend to? You are all property regardless of the nicities.”

Thump. Tʜᴜᴍᴘ. THUMP.

Katie could feel deep green curling around her brain, tinting her vision, controlling her body. Controlling her mind. This creature spoke and her heart raced and she knew not whether it was from fear or hope, and she dared not imagine whether those feelings were truly hers.

The poison in her veins might take effect in seconds. It might take weeks. Katie didn't know.

After a moment the beast tilted its head a few degrees to the side, staring down with a weight of expectation and six raised eyebrows. It wanted an answer. Why should it wait?

“The— The treaty—”

Katie cried out as its finger pressed down on her thorn. Wrong answer. That was the wrong answer. She shook her head rapidly. “Doesn't matter. Words on paper,” she quickly corrected herself. “It's not— It isn't right?” she asked, wincing in preparation for another pain.

“Oh? Have I not the right to you?” it asked, as casual as anything. Its finger drew little circles on Katie's sensitive skin. It wasn't touching her thorn, yet still all her attention was drawn towards it. “Are you not just one human in a trillion, worthless without me to define you?”

“I, um… I...” Was there a right answer here? Obviously the answer was no, nobody had the right to anybody else, but… But… “You, um. You can't just– Can't just force me into this!” Katie tried. It wanted an answer. She had to give it an answer. What it was describing was wrong, and if that was what the Affini did then the Affini were wrong too. Anybody who fought would be pacified.

“Yes, I can. You have met force with force at every moment until now,” the creature observed. “Do you only baulk now that you have lost? That is cowardice, not moral conviction. I caught my prey through strength of vine and cleverness. Is that not the way of nature? How did your equinologists put it? Survival of the quickest?”

“F- fittest,” Katie tried correcting. A firm finger flicked her thorn, stealing away any confidence she might have been inadvisably collecting and throwing it to the air in her whimpers. “Quickest! Quickest, yes, um—”

“You may call me Miss Aquae if you wish.”

“Survival of the quickest, yes, Miss Aquae!” Katie hurried to correct herself. The phrase wasn't right, but what use was being right when she was pinned beneath something she couldn't hope to fight? So too for the rest of humanity. Their culture would bend, or it would break.

As she bent, her heart beat harder still. She was bending for it, and it felt so good.

“Good pet.” Miss Aquae reached down and ruffled Katie's hair. “See how easy it was to change for me? See how—” She pressed in on the thorn, gently. Enough to get Katie gasping and squirming in place, but not enough to overwhelm her— “natural it is for you to adapt for me? You were made for this. I have no drugs. I have no ship. I am only me, and yet you so desperately wish to serve.”

The pressure grew more firm. Katie's face scrunched up as the rising pain grew harder to bear. “Please,” she breathed. “You don't need to…”

“Shhh,” she breathed, drawing another sharpened thorn across Katie's other arm. “You were made for this. Say it.”

“I— I was made for this,” Katie gasped, as the razor-sharp edge nicked her skin. Was it her imagination feeling a surge of the beast's corruption spreading from the cut?

“You so desperately want to serve.”

“I so–” she whimpered. Was it a lie? Was it the truth? Did those words even mean anything? She would bend, or she would be broken. Katie had control here. She could choose what she wanted. “I so desperately want to serve.”

“I do not believe you. Have you surrendered? Really? Or are you still looking for a way out. Is there a little piece of you that still thinks this isn't the end for you, Katie Sahas?

“Is there still a tiny, desperate piece of you that thinks your story does not end like this? Wrapped in the grip of a predator with all your efforts come to naught, because the universe is fundamentally unfair? A little nugget that still claims you have some inherent value?” It ran its tongue over its lips, watching Katie tremble.

Of course there was. She had to hope. Katie knew she couldn't lie to her Miss. She nodded, quietly.

“I could change that.” Miss Aquae ran the edge of her thorn along Katie's skin again, on the way to holding it up just before the girl's eyes. “Part of a paired set,” she explained. “Linked with those already installed. If you accepted these, I could erase those parts of you. Any part of you. Every part of you. You're already mine.” She paused, expectant.

“I'm already yours.”

“But you will fight it. You will always have that hopeless little rebellion in the back of your hopeless little mind, wondering if things could have been different. What if, what if, what if. Would it not be nice if your reality was as I decided?” Another pause.

Katie couldn't bring out a response. That little rebellion in the back of her head churned. She would fight. Of course she would fight. That was just part of being human. Her lips trembled, but she couldn't bring a word to the forefront.

“Perhaps it would not,” the alien continued, confidence unmarred. “It matters little what you want, does it not? I cannot give you this gift, little one. I have given you my word that I will not—unless you beg—and it pleases me to keep my word at this moment. Do you wish to see how long it is until I tire of you?”

Katie could feel herself breaking, pressed between her captor's power and her own latent resistance. She'd already tried to surrender and it just kept pushing. What did it want?

Was it just toying with her? Finding some scraps of amusement before it ended her? That didn't add up. It seemed to care that it wasn't torturing her.

Did it want her? That didn't add up either. The creature it had promised that Katie could become was nothing like her, and if it could turn her into it then it could turn anyone into it. Miss Aquae kept asking Katie if she was useless. Asking if she expected to be abandoned. Asking.

Not telling.

Katie forced her eyes open wide and gritted her teeth, glaring up at the affini, who had not lied to her even once, because what was the point of lying to its own property? “No,” she growled. “I don't.”

Even with conviction, staring up at something twice her size and calling its bluff was terrifying. Katie's heart raced, and with it she could feel the creeping assimilation of her own flesh hurrying forth, making her less her and more it.

It brought its head down low, inches away from Katie's own, to stare her in the eyes. “Why?” it asked, put more weight behind that one word than it had anything prior.

“Because—”

It interrupted, slowly drawing the paired thorn up Katie's clear arm. The razor point tore at her skin, drawing a tiny line that grew flush with crimson. After a moment, it paused, smirked, and then patted Katie on the head. “Eyes on me,” it demanded, drawing her gaze back to itself. “Do not worry about that. You are safe with me. Explain yourself.”

Before Katie could even begin to talk, it was again doodling red hot scribbles on her soft, vulnerable canvas. It didn't have to push down hard to trigger every instinct in Katie's head that told her that pain was something that should not be ignored. She tried her best regardless, taking a deep breath and holding her gaze steady.

“Because you won't,” Katie asserted. Call it imagination, call it a vision, call it prophecy, it mattered not. No other model that Katie could construct explained the affini's behaviour. “You're a monster,” she breathed. “But you're my monster, and you care about me.”

“Do I?”

“Yes! You—”

Crack!

Yet another of the thing's infinite vines lashed out, thorn bared, striking hard across Katie's back. If what had come before was pain then this was something beyond, simple raw sensation dragged across her soul. Katie threw her head back, screaming out the creature's name, cursing the world for allowing her to get here, to the universe for permitting her existence at all.

Crack! And then the universe was gone, drowned out by simple weight of experience. A whisper could not be heard next to the roar of a nuclear drive; a distant star could not be seen through the glare of a megacity; and the universe could not be felt beyond pain.

The next strike was lighter. It drew Katie's tattered consciousness in and worked it into a fine, sharp point. The strike after drove that point in deep, tearing through her mind, pressing her against that kernel of resistance that would not budge.

Crack!

Crack!

Cʀᴀᴄᴋ!

Katie's lies shattered, slammed between their respective wills. That monster had thown off its polite facade to show Katie what it truly was. Controlling; vicious; demanding. A titan enough that terrans could break themselves on its mere presence. Careful enough that it knew how to avoid it. Hungry enough that it wanted it regardless.

Katie forced open her eyes to squint up through tears, seeing double. Two versions of her monster. One brutal and animal. Another loving and kind. Katie was taken back to her imaginations, to seeing the latter staring down at her with a gentle, adoring smile. She didn't want that one. The polite facade just felt false. The other one felt real, if difficult to bear.

Reality was breaking all around her. That which was real and that which was imagination melted together into one big stew of that which could yet be. Katie's vision of a loving, perfect affini owner was flat. It needed nothing from her. It got nothing out of a relationship. Katie could not imagine herself stepping into that vision because the thought of living her life at the heel of some infinitely selfless lie felt pointless. Pleasure and sensation without end, resulting in a life that may as well not have happened.

The beast truly above her watched with passion, drinking in Katie's suffering. It wanted this. It had needs. It was real. It may not have been a straightforward, morally perfect fantasy, but it was real.

Without the lies to protect her, Katie felt herself falling in love.

As Katie watched, a vine raised and— CRACK!

And it— And—

Katie forced in a ragged breath, shaking her head. Too much. It was too much. She couldn't— She—

And then it was there, cradling her against its chest, hand pressed against the back of its head as it held her in its embrace. “Shhh. It's okay, it's okay, I've got you. You're okay,” it whispered. “You're doing so well. You've done so well. So well.” It held her close. Katie fell upon it and wept, clinging to its body with all her remaining strength. She wasn't afraid it would abandon her. It couldn't get away from her any more than she could get away from it. They needed each other.

Yet she clung, and she wept, and her pain and stress slowly sank within while the beast protected her. Eventually, Katie found resolve enough to speak. “You care,” she whispered through cracked lips and a hoarse throat. “Thank you.”

It shifted its weight, leaning slightly away, and tilted Katie's head up to meet it with the back of a thorn. Stars, but it was so beautiful. Katie's double vision resolved, kindness and cruelty meeting in the middle to form pragmatic artistry.

“I want to hurt you,” it claimed.

Katie shook her head. “Liar,” she panted.

For the second time, the affini blinked, pulling away slightly in surprise. “Have I not been convincing enough?” she asked, sharpened words echoing through the cave.

“The pain is a—” Katie was too breathless to speak smoothly. She had to pause and take several long, deep breaths— “Tool? You like the... control? Understanding what you can do to me. How I'll react. Understanding is control.” Deep breath. “What you can control, you can change. I'll change for you.”

It glanced to the side. “You are correct. I want to make you so obviously changed that nobody could look upon you and think you anything but mine. I like to hurt you to do it, but as you say, that is not necessary. I could do without.”

Want vs Like could have been dismissed as a matter of semantics, but Katie had been better trained than that. Want could have been any one of a thousand drives, from base instinct to hunger to social expectation. Like could have been only desire, and to express desire was to express vulnerability. Desire was an outstretched hand; an offer. Katie could take the out, accept the inevitable but without the pain.

For the first time since they had met, Katie actually had a power over her affini.

The choice was Katie's. She understood the consequences of her decision, so she could exert control over them.

Katie couldn't freeze. She couldn't flee. She couldn't fight. She had tried to surrender, but only because she had been afraid of the consequences. That hadn't been a choice, because her choices had been systematically eradicated one by one until they had reached this moment. The beast had been learning her, but in exchange it had allowed Katie to learn it. A few well placed words had done what all the violence had not: They had gotten the pain to stop.

Katie could deny this creature its preference. It had already proven that it understood her deeply enough to take care of her every need. It claimed that it held to its promises only because it wished to, and Katie could not call it a liar, but she found herself trusting. It had no need to lie.

Katie could choose to surrender herself for real, not because she was afraid of what would happen to her if she did not but because of the intrinsic rewards of her own submission. It understood her, and what it didn't know it could learn. Why would Katie want to deny it?

“Please,” Katie begged, surrendering her power in a heartbeat. “I don't want you to wrap me in softness. Let me— Let me feel how sharp the universe can be. For you.” Katie breathed hard, burying her face deep into Miss Aquae's foliage. Was she really doing this? Katie glanced at her arm, now stained almost black from the shoulder to halfway down her forearm with tiny sprouts of fresh-growth green bursting through her skin.

Yes. She was doing this.

“Please,” Katie begged. “Please, please learn me. Let me be yours. Please take me. Do whatever you like with me, understand me, mold me, please? I don't know how to be as special on my own as I can be for you, but for you I promise l will be spectacular. Please, Miss Aquae, break me and see that you can fit me back together better than I ever could have been alone. Please. I trust you. Use me.”

Katie screamed as the second set of thorns punctured her skin. She felt an electric tingle running through her, blurring her vision, burning a deep copper taste across her tongue, buzzing her soul with a whole-body hum. It was terrifying. It was okay. Miss Aquae was there, body wrapped around hers, one hand pressing the thorns in deeper while the other stroked hair from Katie's eyes and wiped sweat from her brow. Vines in abundance curled around, holding her, stilling her, keeping her.

In Thatch's arms, Katie felt a profound sense of calm, even as waves of pain crashed across her. Even as her vision went white and she couldn't help but scream. Her struggles were over. Her chapter was closing. There was no possible escape and she could finally stop fighting. Katie clung to her Miss Aquae's body, spluttering out gratitude and wordless, helpless devotion. She had been made for this.

The choice had been hers, and she had committed. For all her power, the affini hadn't forced the choice; she had only taught Katie how to make it for herself. She could stop wasting her energy on resistance and be as she had been made to be in full knowledge that it was right for her.

Long minutes were held in tight entwinement, Katie expressing the only emotions she allowed herself to feel, while Miss Aquae let her know that everything was going to be okay. They clung to one another through the agony while Katie's body struggled to withstand what was being done to her. Eventually, a finger pressed against her chin and lifted Katie's blurry, unfocussed eyes to see the smiling face of her owner.

“I think it has been long enough by now that the pain is starting to fade, hmn?”

Katie nodded rapidly. “Th– Thank you, Miss,” she whispered.

“Good. Then you should have given me enough control to do—” She left Katie's chin in peace, trusting the girl would hold her own head up, regardless of how heavy it felt in the moment. She did. Miss Aquae's hand came up before Katie's eyes, finger and thumb held together— “this.“

Snap.