Divaricated

In the dying months of humanity's resistance efforts against an overwhelming alien invasion, a struggling, depressed Jump Technician aboard the Terran Catastrophe-class Battlecruiser Indomitable meets a hypercompetent alien bioengineer with self-confidence issues and a lifetime of trauma to deal with. In the ensuing chaos, they end up stranded alone in distant space with nobody to save them but each other.

Some sapient creatures, the beloved plants themselves included, thought that the beating hearts of the Affini Compact were the tremendous, ostensibly motive, space stations dotted around the front, like the Sphenophyllia hanging over Mars, or the Meandrina loitering around Epsilon Eridani. Hundreds of kilometers long, they were entire microcosms of the Affini core worlds unto themselves, capable of wholly independent operation, be it organisational, industrial, scientific, or domestic.

Those creatures would be wrong, of course. The mega-ships were a vital piece, but most decisions were made elsewhere, most of the population didn't live aboard, and the Affini's true purpose hardly lay in the autonomous stellar gardens that grew their smaller ships.

The ships, then. Other, wiser, creatures would point to the fleet as the Compact's true center, the distributed, decentralised starhoppers that flew between worlds, bringing with them the freedom of domestic bliss, like the Elettarium, the Baiera, or the Pinidae, all currently busying themselves with rescuing the human race from itself.

Though closer, they would be wrong too.

The heart of the Affini Compact, according to Wing Cnidaria, assistant clerk, were the clerk's offices. The Elettarium office was located near the rear of the vessel, sandwiched between an ice cream bar and the main communications relay. Though in truth it was a large construction indeed, Wing suspected that they could dedicate the full width of the ship to it and still end up cramped between stacks of reports and piles of requests.

This was the room where the rituals were penned.

The space where the desires of five thousand, four hundred and thirty three sapient life forms went to become real. The paper—locally grown in the Elettarium's botanical gardens and destined, one day, to be broken down for recycling—was by far the least data storage format in use here, and yet it piled to the high ceilings, held in place only through the constant rotation of the habitatable decks.

Wing had long since given up on applying classical Information Theory to the Affini Compact. Here, the words ran so thick they formed their own gravitational field, sucking in every other bit of information around until everything found a home. Astrogeologists filed reports on rock composition; xenolinguists submitted updated words for their darling companion species; botanists wrote reports on their latest concoctions; and everything besides. Nowhere knew more about the day to day operations or the large scale organisation of the greater civilisation than the clerks.

If only Wing could keep her focus on it. Today was not a normal day. In her journal, placed carefully to the left of her expansive work area, the date was circled thrice and underlined twice, highlighted in the bright red of exclamation that caught her eye every time she saw it. The room besides that was shades of grey. Black ink on white page on white desk on a black floor. To one side of the room, a full-length window gave a portal to the full majesty of the cosmos.

White stars on black void.

Wing's fingers clutched a thin, hexagonal pen. The white status light on its side shone through her blurred, semi-transparent skin, lighting the bone within and refracting through the whole finger, lighting it up like it was she who was the digital instrument, recording every stroke written on the paper before her. She focused, forcing her eyes to glance across the form at her fingertips.

Requisition request. One standard hab unit bathtub's worth of a specific kind of human dessert. Wing glanced over to the computer terminal on the far side of her desk, and bioluminescent organs dotting her chest flashed a quick sequence of colours. The computer flashed back, and the clerk nodded to herself. This particular kind of dessert was something their libraries contained the recipe for.

Transparent eyes skipped over the firm lines of the form, cross-referencing every scrap. Date of submission, date of the request being made, date they'd like it fulfilled. A hab identifier. She licked one finger on her free hand and lifted the page, checking beneath. The required data on dietary requirements, culinary preferences, allergies, and a structural assessment confirming they had the facilities to handle receipt were attached. There wasn't a supplementary notice detailing the time and location the request was generated by one of their automated systems, so apparently this form had been filled in by hand.

Wing smiled. A creature after her own heart.

Affini script was a gentle, flowing alphabet. As close to art as language, but given that nobody wrote it except by choice, and the Affini never did anything by half, it was almost restrained in its choices. Their numerals were, in many senses, easier to work with than Wing's native base-7 system, but...

She paused, expression utterly impassive, but luminescence glittering under the skin in tickled delight. Whoever had made this request had checked the wrong box and requested their produce be delivered by a method that wouldn't handle that much weight. She took a moment to check the metasubmission, where the Affini responsible for such an error had clearly indicated that if an error were to be found, they wanted the form sent back, rather than quietly corrected. They had also requested a hint of “reasonable” obscurity, so Wing took a moment to consider, before penning “The Affini Compact carries all, valued protector, but your paperwork is messy and I shan't carry you.“, signed with her name.

It was a game, of sorts. Of course, they could simply have sent a simple request and let a computer define the form. They could have permitted Wing to fix their mistake for them, or asked to be told the precise error at least, but half the work of a clerk was to act as the operator for a vast ship-wide puzzle of paper and byzantine requirements that only the Affini truly seemed to enjoy.

Well. The Affini, and Wing.

The doors to the office slid open, breaking the otherwise stony silence, as one of the many citizens under Wing's care entered the room, not speaking a word. In fact, she walked in without even looking. Not a wave or a sound, and yet Wing found herself smiling.

Along the chest of the great plant flashed a series of brightly coloured leaves. It was a slow imitation of Wing's native communication, with a curious accent and hesitant wording.

“Good morning, clerk,” it spoke. Montsechia Vidalii, Eighth Bloom, was the head clerk at the office, and she had taught Wing just about everything she knew. White vines wrapped around black thorns and a white core. Leaves mostly in shades of grey, giving her the appearance of simply being washed out, like all the colour had been stolen from her. She fit into the room well, and it made the brightly coloured leaves she was using to 'talk' stand out almost as much as they did on the cloudy surface of Wing's body.

“Good morning, Miss Vidalii. I trust your day finds you well,” Wing flashed back, handing her superior a small stack of papers she had been unable to process herself with a look of quiet pride. Despite the mountains around them, the unprocessed forms numbered only in the low double digits, and mostly focussed around the few areas that Wing had not yet been taught.

The plant took the papers, vine not lingering for a moment longer than was polite, as a ripple of soft orange slowly swam over her torso, mottled with the deep blue of (pride/accomplishment/satisfaction). Wing saw the whites in the room start to sink into a soft pink, as the light from her own photoemitters bounced around her body, giving her a gentle glow and staining her vision. She forced the emotions down, and everything returned to quiet calm.

Montsechia moved across the room to her own desk, every step a sharp click as thorn met tile. Click, click, click. Wing couldn't hear them, but one of the few pieces of Affini technology she bore was a tiny strip of bioengineered plant matter set just below the skin at the base of her neck. In response to sound, it lit up. It didn't give a clear enough picture to understand spoken word, though as Wing's lip reading was second-to-none this rarely caused problems.

In an otherwise silent room, however, the sharp clicks of Miss Vidalii's thorns stabbed through Wing's attention, scattering her focus, not that she'd been having much success keeping it together to begin with.

Today was an exciting day. The splash of red in the corner of her vision was impossible to ignore. (Importance/danger/attention) drawn in marker over the date in her journal, and that page had far fewer entries than the average day, as if she'd not managed as much work as she usually would have.

Montsechia's desk was behind hers, but she had a mirror installed above, so they could still speak. Her eyes flicked up, following the creature's journey across the room as she settled in.

“We're going to have a busy day tomorrow, Wing,” Montsechia signalled, without looking up from her work. “I'm sure you heard about our little problem earlier, and the captain says we're going to stay out here in uncharted space until we find our runaways.”

Wing nodded politely. “Of course, Miss Vidalii, we had the transcription here before the captain had fully finished speaking. I've filed it against the ship logs if you wish to check. Do you think that we will be... needed today?” she asked, the tiniest tinge of (nervous/concerned/worried) green mixing in. Today was a special day, and it would be unfortunate if something as minor as a hypermetric displacement were to alter her plans.

Thankfully, the affini flashed a brighter green of (soothing/agreement/acceptance) along with a brief, but strong moment of (negative/denial/rebuttal) red. Wing felt her heart beat a little harder, both at how much nuance Montsechia was managing to put into her language these days, and also because it meant that it was time to make her move.

She stood, for a moment unsteady on her feet and needing to lean against the desk for support, as she grabbed a small stack of papers and turned to her colleague. For a moment, she looked past, to the stars. White points of twinkling light against a black void, but stars weren't just white. Instants of (encouraging/excited/eager) pink and (forceful/demanding/requirement) deep orange twinkled in her eyes for a moment, spurring her on. Perhaps the universe was telling her to get on with it. Perhaps she was just imagining it.

Nerves calmed—or at least, given the appearance of calm—she moved across the room to the head clerk's desk. “Apologies, I must have forgotten to stack this small request with the others,” she flashed, colourscape the picture of apology with only the barest hint of (playful/mischievous) malachite dancing behind the words.

She turned and slipped to her desk while her partner analysed her gift. After a few minutes, a soft pink moved across her surface, breaking out from the center of her chest out into an expanding concentric circle, with the tiniest flash of her own malachite leaves barely visible underneath, being dragged just behind the pink ones on tiny vines.

Wing almost broke there and then. The subtlety on display in the creature's mastery of her language was beyond exciting. She tried to keep the anxious green out of the sides of her cheeks, but how was she meant to do that? Her emotions could hardly be hidden, she was literally glowing with her nervousness.

“You've made an error here, assistant clerk,” the head clerk stated, colours firm and clear and bright. Disappointment and rebuke, and only the tiniest flash of playfulness in the final instants. “The form was submitted perfectly, though the author marked that they wished the clerk's office to fix any issues found within.”

A vine shot across the room, landing on Wing's shoulder and forcing her to stand and turn. Another gently pulled her across the room to face the consequences of her error.

“Now, no mistakes made on the form itself, but I can't submit this. Do you know why, assistant clerk Wing?”

Wing gulped, flashing a tiny green acceptance through shivering glands.

“I've used the wrong signature, Miss. Vidalii,” she admitted, shivering finger moving to just beneath the spot for clerk's assent.

“And so,” Miss Vidalii spoke, raising Wing's chin to follow her as she stood. “It falls to me to correct your mistake. The form is immutable, of course, you've marked it done. To submit this, we must correct you—”

The affini theatrically paused, leaning over to inspect the signature, letting only the slightest malachite grin shine through. “You know how that paperwork wo—”

Wing raised her hands, which were clutching a small stack of pre-filled papers in fingers now openly shaking, her whole-body pink glow staining the clean white surface. These were correct. These she had checked and re-checked every night for a week. All they required was one final signature.

Montsechia provided it.

Wing Vidalii, Third Floret, exploded into a rapid succession of shines, giving the ordinarily quiet, ordinarily restrained interior of the clerk's office the appearance of a rave as she leaped towards her new owner with a glee so bright it caused the lights in the room to automatically dim in insufficient compensation. The affini was hardly more restrained, hugging her new pet with a wide grin, both on her face and in her chromaticity.

The beating heart of the Affini Compact was in its clerk's offices, or, at very least, the parts of it that Wing adored the most.

The instant of a faster-than-light Jump felt much like standing next to the instruments in a voidcrash rave, but only for a heartbeat. Katie had been told, anyway. It wasn't her scene, but she could see how it could be, if the metaphor held.

It was like getting kicked across your whole body, a deep thud that felt like it should have knocked you to your knees, but without physical force behind it. Even with the tightest quantum shielding they could build, the hypermetric shock that marked a spacecraft's emergence into real-space bled back inside as a force that wasn't really a force. It couldn't be measured, but everybody who'd flown aboard a spaceship knew it. It was like the bottom of the world had fallen through and the rules were breaking down. Just for an instant. Just for long enough to notice, but not so long you could be certain of what it was.

Katie watched the dials and readouts on the side panel of her cherished Jump Drive. The fuel mix was hovering at a cool hundred degrees kelvin, stable and ready. The last thing anybody wanted was to see that thermostat creep up. That was the stuff nightmares were made of.

All nominal. Ready to jump. All Katie had to do was dial in the destination and begin the process. This was a simple trade route between two well populated systems, carrying a cargo hold full of ice down to a desert world. They'd pay through the nose for water on their long summers, and so the entire crew of the Atlantis's Fortune were working triple shifts to haul it back and forth. Not that they'd see a credit of the profit on it.

Katie's nimble fingers carefully took the aluminium knob of the main fuel valve and turned it three notches to the right, smooth and gentle. A needle on the corresponding dial started its long crawl upwards. A blend of exotic particles rushed into the central chamber of the drive, suspended in gravitational lenses while the temperature inevitably and irrevocably rose. At fifty below freezing, the mix would undergo a phase change, from gaseous straight through to something they hadn't quite figured out yet.

...what you did was pop spacetime...

Katie's finger twitched, momentarily raising the fuel feed a little too high. She corrected it an instant later, but she was already on edge.

All she had to do was let the fuel heat up enough, keep the lenses balanced and oriented correctly, and aim the quantum arch towards their destination. She'd done this a hundred times. Easy. As soon as the fuel underwent hypersublimation, the hyperspace window would open, and they'd jump through to the other end and all feel the kick of a hypermetric shock.

What did 'hyper' even mean? Was that just a word that they attached to things that didn't quite make sense?

...You haven't figured out the fifth fundamental force yet...

She had no idea what she was doing, did she? Katie was a wreck in real-space, why would she be any better in hyper-space? She couldn't even get through the day without medical intervention, and she was expected to play with forces she literally didn't understand? This was madness. This was—

The fuel in the reactor hit two hundred twenty three point one five kelvin and spacetime got torn in half.

...Don't do that! It's really bad!...

The Atlantis's Fortune... fell? Rose?

The Atlantis's Fortune was engulfed by broken space, left hanging over eternity. Katie looked forward and locked eyes with the void. She echoed through time, a thousand thousand copies locked into the same path. Behind Katie was Katie. Ahead, was Katie. In fact, everything was Katie. Backward and forward in time, to each side the infinite possible paths that could have led her here, and above and below the infinite versions of her she could have been. A matrix of every eventuality.

...Most of the time little holes like that close up...

She seemed miserable. In all of them. Every past, every future. Every way she could have gotten here. Every her that could have gotten to every way. None of them happy, not even in the future.

A future that was getting cut short, future Katies scattering into dust one at a time. Had something gone wrong with the jump? Did she have any idea how this worked? What she was doing? What she was playing with? What was wrong with her? Why had she agreed to do this, when it so obviously could never make her happy? Katie screamed as her future selves vanished one by one until finally, it was her turn.


Katie woke up with a sharp intake of breath, scrambling to put her back against a tree, eyes wide. She sat there, breathing hard, not really taking in what she was looking at, fingers clutching at the leaves resting over her.

That... wasn't how it had happened. Katie knew that wasn't what had happened. The Atlantis's Fortune had reached its destination without incident. She'd jumped that ship a dozen times without problem. They'd only replaced her because... well, humans weren't exactly accepting out in the fringes.

Katie squeezed shut her eyes and focused on her memory of the real thing. She'd twitched, yeah, but she'd corrected it. It had been fine. Jump'd run a little hot, but that just meant extra waste at the far side, not... that.

Didn't it? Her classes had covered a lot of the practical aspects of Jump Drive operation and maintenance, but when it came to modeling the physics behind it all, there was a lot of conjecture. A lot of guesswork. Ships went missing sometimes, or... ships went missing a lot these days, but before humanity had found itself in a war, ships did sometimes still just vanish. Who was to say that they weren't falling foul of a one in a million fluke; having their atoms scattered across the universe because none of them really understood what was going on?

This was Katie's profession. The one thing that human society had always agreed actually mattered about her life; the way she could contribute to the grinding engine of capitalism. To the society that she had come from it was really the only thing that had mattered, and having her confidence in it shaken hurt.

Why? She was never going to be allowed near a Jump Drive again either way. She was...

Katie took a deep, pained breath, hands clenching. She had too much nervous energy and she needed to do something. She needed to fiddle with something. The undergrowth at her hands would do. She plucked a leaf and began to tear it into scraps. She—

“Katie?”, spoke a voice that was... airy, like a whisper caught by the breeze and delivered to her ear though there was no meaningful wind to speak of. Katie glanced around, forcing herself to actually look at what she was seeing. She was alone here, there was nobody around.

“Oh, my apologies,” the voice continued. A beat later, the undergrowth covering Katie pulled away, leaving her suddenly cold. A surprising amount of the plantlife surrounding her followed, contracting towards a central point, and—

It was Thatch, obviously. Of course it was. Was Katie just going to have to get used to this weird alien stuff, now? The affini gathered herself up, vines curling into approximately the right shape, but a little padded out and overly large, before pulling tight. The whole thing took a matter of seconds, and Katie was getting less overwhelmed by the storm of motion each time.

Thatch reformed kneeling, holding out a hand to touch Katie's cheek, with a face that looked some combination of bemused and annoyed. Katie surmised that that was unintentional, as it pulled into a look of concern a moment later.

“I would appreciate it if you wouldn't pluck my leaves without asking, Katie, but is something wrong?” For a few brief moments, Katie had been able to tell herself that the events of yesterday had been just a dream, but the waking world had a way of stealing those hopes away, didn't it? She was still stuck on... the rock. The planet they were on. Whatever it was called.

She was still trapped with this creature, the enemy combatant she was meant to hate, that she'd just wasted the last year of her life fighting against. The soft leaves slightly pressing into her cheek tingled slightly. Thatch was another living creature, and in this situation, Katie would take what she could get.

Katie nodded, glancing away. “I had a bad dream,” she admitted. “I'm okay, just frazzled. We have lots to do today, I'll probably feel better once I make myself useful.”

Katie moved to stand, but found a vine blocking her path. She glanced back up with a frown at the affini, who's expression had only shifted deeper into concern.

“You don't need to make yourself anything, Katie. We have, frankly, all the time in this world to talk. An hour or two here and there isn't going to make much difference, and we'll both be much better off if we're happy.”

Katie looked away, feeling a surge of embarrassment. “It was just a bad dream, it's no big deal. I'll be fine,” Katie insisted, fishing for some way of changing the subject. “I am pretty hungry, though. Got any more of those fruits?”

“Maybe for dessert.” Thatch seemed to take the bait. “We're going to do some cooking this morning. We have flowing water, plenty of firewood, several species I think you'll find quite palatable, and even some things that I think should work as spices.”

One of Thatch's seemingly infinite vines turned Katie's head with a gentle yet insistent touch, so that she could observe Thatch attempting to put her foot down. “We can talk about your dream while we prepare the meal,” Thatch continued, voice firm. It was a little cute, given that Katie knew full well the plant would cave at a sharp glare, but she reluctantly kept her gaze soft. Talking about it might actually help.

“Yeah, okay,” Katie accepted. “I kinda want to talk to you about some of it anyway.” She'd had more important things to think about, but the brief conversation they'd had the day before about the physics of faster than light travel had clearly rattled Katie, if the dream was anything to go by. How could she know so little about her life's work?

Thatch nodded, with a smile. “But, ah, before that I need your help with something. I've gathered some wood and rocks, and we can make a fire, if you can light it. I believe I've located the right types of rock, with which you can make a spark.”

Thatch spoke with a little more hesitation in her voice than usual. Katie didn't think she would have noticed, if she hadn't seen how Thatch behaved under stress the day before. Katie's eyes flicked over the creature's body, noting the way the precise pattern of plantlife was squeezing in a little tighter than normal. Almost quivering, if Katie tried to apply a human mannerism to it. Thatch's face betrayed little of it, but her voice and her body gave the impression of reluctance, even worry.

Katie looked the affini in the eye with a curious frown, shuffling around until she could sit up straight, and tilted her head to one side, questioning. “Why do you need me for that? You're stronger than me, faster, why don't you do it?”

Again, no response on the face. Thatch maintained her air of effortless confidence in every human respect, but it was still incredibly transparent. Katie had only known her a day, and Thatch's trick had fallen flat.

“I might simply be looking for ways for you to make yourself useful.” Thatch had a wry smile on her face and a dry drawl on her lips, and her body gave away that it was all lies.

Katie reached up and ruffled the thing's hair. She had to practically stand to reach, but it was worth it to see surprise breaking through the facade. “You might, but you're not,” Katie agreed. “Talk to me. Bad dreams for you too?”

Thatch finally let the frown that had been struggling to get out show. She huffed, but that wasn't really human either. The air seemed to move through her whole body, rather than just her lungs, giving Katie the impression of a much larger sound than it otherwise should have been. She still wasn't scared of this thing, though, or at least nowhere near as much as she had been before they'd met. Thatch was like her, even if she refused to admit it.

“The fire,” Thatch admitted, voice quiet. Her tangled weave hugged in tighter, cutting an inch off of her height. “Back on the ship. I couldn't sleep, the scene just kept replaying in my head. Did you know—” Thatch split a hole in her torso, revealing the tangled mass of green vines that seemed to be where the rest of her emerged. It rotated in place, until Katie could see an area that had been scarred by flame— “I was so distracted yesterday that I didn't stop to properly check myself over until you had gone to sleep, at which point I found this.”

The parting in Thatch's torso closed back up. Vines in two perpendicular directions pulled tight against each other in what looked like a sturdy weave. Certainly Katie didn't expect she'd be able to get it open herself, nor had she seen anything else on this planet that could.

“I nearly died on board that ship, Katie. I did lose half my mass, and had to abandon the rest. I had not... planned to bloom again for a long, long time, and everything feels wrong. I am clumsy. I am not put together right and I do not move the same way that I used to. I wanted you to wake up to a freshly cooked meal, but I held the rocks and...”

Thatch shook her head, shifting her shoulders in an approximate shrug. “I know that it could not really hurt me, but I just... remember the way half my body went dead in an instant.”

“Shit,” Katie breathed. “I'm sorry. I... understand, I think. I didn't get that badly hurt, but I don't think I'll ever forget the heat or the sound. It feels wrong to apologise, because I meant to hurt you, and if I was in the same situation again with what I know now, I can't say... It felt like it was you or me, right?”

Thatch shook her head, waving her hand dismissively. “You did not do this to me; I did this to me.”

“Uh, I was the one who scuttled the ship, Thatch.” Clearly the flora was used to taking responsibility for things that weren't her fault, but this one was something Katie had done herself, with her own hands and her own skills.

“And I was the one who let you, Katie,” the plant shot back, voice infuriatingly even.

Katie bared her teeth, reaching up to yank off another small leaf from the side of Thatch's arm. The transplanted parts didn't seem any stronger than the original plantlife, at least. The affini winced, either in pain or a reasonable facsimile, as Katie tore the leaf in half in front of her face. “Will you let me apologise for that? I swear, you fucking weed, let me take responsibility, yeah? You can't be responsible for literally everything that happens around you, it isn't healthy.”

Two of Thatch's stronger vines came in from each side, to wrap around Katie's wrists and hold them apart and away from anything fragile. The girl glared, and continued regardless. “It isn't healthy, Thatch. You're not a god. You're a sapient creature just like me who's scared of fire and pretends to be less of an emotional wreck than she is.”

Thatch was frozen up. Even the small amount of flex that Katie's struggles usually bought her had vanished. Was Thatch normally pretending to be weaker than she was, on top of everything else? Katie growled, utterly failing to squirm out of the iron grip, and continued. “Stop beating yourself up and let yourself be helped, already, okay? You're allowed to screw up.”

Thatch met Katie's growl with one of her own. Much deeper, much louder. It buzzed the air. Katie could feel it in her chest. Against her hair. This thing was not just like her in a lot of ways that didn't matter, and Katie was gambling that she was in the way that did.

“You do not know me,” Thatch hissed. “I am not like you, little human. We can work together, but do not presume to—”

Katie shook her head, interrupting. Her voice was shaking and unsteady, but then, she would freely admit she wasn't as good as Thatch at acting. “Thatch, please. Eyes on me, please focus. Equals, r-remember? And... Please less 'human'?”

For a brief, tense moment, Katie worried that she'd pushed too far... and then Thatch's shoulders sagged, and she was lowered to the ground.

Thatch didn't so much turn away as her entire body flowed to the opposite side of the clearing. No footsteps, just a mess of vines shifting away in the blink of an eye. She collapsed into a tangle that buzzed for a few short moments before starting to speak.

Her voice was a little different like this. A little higher pitched. A slight echo. Still recognisably Thatch, with the same intonations and the same unsung rhythm backing every word. “Sorry,” she said. “Sorry. I am sorry. I panicked and... that was not okay. I am meant to be in control,” she said, holding up a flower in rough approximation of a hand to forestall the obvious response. “But I am not. My body is not moving right and I can not make myself light that fire; I could not sleep; and I thought that I could at least claim responsibility over the unknowing actions of a ward, and that would help. I can not make mistakes, Katie. The consequences are too great.”

Katie was still breathing hard, adrenaline only very slowly draining away. She idly rubbed the skin on her wrists, where the vines had grabbed her. It didn't hurt, but there was still a leftover tingling, something warm and gentle. That had been what had given it all away. It had still been a gentle touch, despite everything.

Katie walked over to the crumpled pile of plant and spent a moment rearranging to make a little divot, into which she promptly sat. “Yeah,” she finally replied, word short and a little harder than she'd intended. “Yeah, I've done that too,” she admitted. “Not— Not exactly that. I can't do the things that you can do, but I have panicked and lashed out because somebody doesn't know when to shut up and leave me alone.”

Katie lay back. Even as a formless pile of greenery, Thatch still had a comfortable warmth and a gentle scent. She could feel it through her whole body when Thatch spoke this way, and the sounds came out a little muffled. Half of it felt like it was just vibrations rattling her skull. “Mmmmh,” Thatch thrummed, as magnificent as any Jump Drive. “And how did you deal with that, Katie?”

The girl laughed. “I learned how to poke holes in spacetime and ran. I'm not a good example to learn from.”

Thatch rumbled again. Maybe a groan, maybe a laugh? It was hard to tell. “I can help you with that,” she said, voice slightly discordant, but... was this sarcasm again? The difference was barely perceptible at the best of times, but Katie was learning.

“With the running, or the holes?”

“Yes. I am supposed to be able to make you the best version of yourself, Katie. That is the whole point of my being here, to help. Except that if I had not gotten involved you would likely be much happier.”

Katie rested a hand on one of the vines. She had no idea if it was sensitive enough to feel anything, but hopefully it was the thought that counted. “And who makes you the best that you can be? You? You obviously can't take care of yourself alone, Thatch. I think I need you to help me survive here, but I don't get anything out of the green saviour routine, so how about we drop it and take care of each other? I'll set the fire going, we can talk about dreams, and then we'll sit down and figure out a plan for the day, yeah?”

Thatch's body pulled in tighter for a moment, but soon after she buzzed an affirmative, wordless sound. Katie could feel Thatch's heat rise and fall with a gentle rhythm, in time with her own breaths. Did it serve the same purpose?

“Okay,” Katie breathed, voice quiet, though given the two of them were entwined it seemed unlikely she could speak quietly enough Thatch wouldn't hear even if she'd tried. “I had some friends once who struggled with anxiety attacks.” Katie ignored the complaint from beneath. “Breathing exercises helped them, sometimes. I don't know if you really breathe, but you must have some rhythms, and can we try slowing those down?”

After a few moments of quiet, Thatch began to reform. A vine or three held Katie in her prior position while the creature rebuilt itself underneath, only to finally let her fall back into place once she was sitting in Thatch's lap, leaning back against their torso.

Katie closed her eyes, taking a deeper breath, letting the last of her adrenaline drain away while Thatch's arms came around to wrap around her chest. Her scent was all the stronger in the moments after such rapid movement, body warmed through the rush of exertion, soft vines leaving tingles in their wake.

Katie felt air moving against the back of her head as Thatch spoke. “Yes, let's.”

Katie nodded. “Then, please close your eyes, and follow along with me. Breathe in, or whatever you're going to do, and hold it there.”

The soft heat radiating out of Thatch's warm vines, and especially the area around the central core Katie had seen earlier, grew stronger. Katie let her head fall back, resting against soft foliage, while the warmth suffused her. With her eyes closed and a comfortable weight over her chest, she had to fight against a rising urge to yawn, but thankfully only for a few moments.

“And out.”

Katie was very aware that she was simply repackaging Thatch's guidance from the night before, but she also understood how difficult it could be to take your own advice. If laundering it so Thatch didn't realise it was hers helped, then Katie would happily be unoriginal.

Whatever it was that Thatch was doing was as obvious as breathing, or more, this close up. The heat fell away, leaving Katie cold. Subconsciously, she pressed a little closer into Thatch's soft weave. “Let's do that a few more times, yeah?” Katie asked. “Slow 'breaths', or whatever.”

She couldn't see Thatch's response, but she could feel the slight movement of a nod, before the heat rose again. Katie let her head turn, resting her cheek against a set of leaves, concentrating on the slow ripples of warmth rolling out of her companion. The heat faded, drawing Katie closer in, and then rose again, filling her. More up and down than in and out, but it was easy for Katie to match her own breathing to it. Each cycle, breathing in as the heat rose, feeling comfort and breathing a sweet scent, and then breathing out as it fell, emptying herself of warmth and air.

The next thing Katie knew, there was a vine against her chin, tilting her head up to look at what seemed to be an amused smirk. Not that Katie could trust the expressions on Thatch's face, given how much control she had over them. The real secrets lay elsewhere.

“Napping, Katie?” she asked.

Thatch's heavy arms remained protectively crossed, holding Katie down. A moment's squirming didn't find escape, and the vine kept her from looking away. Katie felt her cheeks flush. She didn't want Thatch thinking she was lazy, she was as willing to work for their survival as anyone would be!

“Didn't— Maybe didn't sleep enough?” she asked, sentence ending with a hopeful lilt. Thatch seemed to consider it for a few moments, before letting Katie look away, to hide her embarrassment. Katie managed to squirm out from underneath Thatch's arms, or more likely, she was released from them.

Humiliating. She'd only just gotten up, and was already being lulled back to sleep? They had a whole day in front of them yet, and Katie intended to prove that she could be useful.

Without looking back, Katie kneeled to inspect the firepit Thatch had already built. How hard could starting a fire be, really? She heard the creature behind her rising, with a repetitive sound that could have been a chuckle, or a cough. Perhaps holding her 'breath', whatever that process was, was more challenging for an affini than a humanoid?

Katie struggled to imagine anything being a challenge for Thatch.

Katie looked down at a carefully arranged pile of sticks, leaves, and logs in the middle of their small clearing. It looked suspiciously like Thatch knew what she was doing, though Katie was hesitant to grant that honour. How much of this knowledge was stuff the affini had simply learned in the abstract, from books or... however the Affini collected their knowledge? A hundred years old or not, surely she'd never actually constructed a campfire out of wood.

Katie looked down at the two rocks Thatch had provided. One was a rough thing that seemed to want to crumble already; the other had more of a golden sheen. Thatch stood several feet away. Further away than she needed to.

“And I just hit these together?” Katie asked, miming bashing the two into one another.

Thatch shook her head, and sent a pair of vines the long way around, staying far away from the firepit. “More like this, I believe.” She gently grasped Katie's wrists in a soft grip and moved them together at an angle, though stopped short of actually striking. The vines retreated, giving Katie the space to try it for real.

Tink!

The collision produced a small shower of sparks. Both jumped back in surprise, but Katie crept forward again, kneeling by the pile of wood, and struck the two rocks against each other once more. The sparks blanketed the dead material, collecting over it for a moment... but fizzled. Katie tried again, and this time one of the dry leaves caught. It took long seconds, but the leaf burned up, short and bright, and just long enough for one of the smaller twigs to catch.

The flames danced after that. They jumped from twig to stick to branch to log. Heat rose steadily, and Katie let her eyes slide closed, sitting backwards, enjoying the flickering warmth licking her skin. Apparently Thatch did know what she was doing, here.

Katie opened one eye, to find her companion staring at the flames, frozen in place. She pushed herself up onto her feet and hurried over, standing between Thatch and the firepit.

“Hey, eyes on me, right?” Katie said. She watched for a response, eyes flickering over leaves and roots, and then finally the face. The bright green glow of Thatch's eyes shifted, focusing, and Katie nodded, raising a hand to a purple cheek flecked with strikes of vivid red so that they could turn around without breaking that focus. “You're okay. It's not gonna hurt you. It isn't like the ship, where everything was falling apart, you have everything here well under control.”

Thatch took a deep breath, or whatever the simulated equivalent of that was. Air rushed through her body. She nodded. “I do. I think I am okay, now. Thank you. I expect I will get more used to this soon.”

Katie nodded. “Do you want to get closer? It's quite pretty, close up. Perfectly safe. You did everything right, I think, there's nothing around it to burn except what we want it to be burning. C'mon, I'll keep you safe.” Katie extended a hand; Thatch took it, and the two of them moved closer to the flame.

“It might be nice to get something to sit on,” Katie noted, guiding them both to a spot a couple feet away from the flames, where they could rest on the dirt. Katie was aware of how worried Thatch had seemed, and refused to let go of the creature's hand as they took their place. Given the sheer scale of the affini, keeping hold of a hand practically necessitated leaning against her side, but Thatch didn't seem to complain about that, and if it brought comfort, then so be it.

They sat in near-silence for long moments. Occasionally, one of the burning logs would crack or pop, and though Thatch didn't obviously seem to respond, the momentary rush of heat suggested she wasn't entirely unfazed. Katie waggled the hand back and forth a few inches, partially as a reminder she was there, and partially to check that the vines hadn't frozen up again. They hadn't. Whatever was going on in Thatch's head, she was still making the apparently conscious decision to let her body be moved.

Over the minutes, an invisible tension in the air seemed to go slack. When it was all-but gone, Thatch waggled her hand back. A leaf brushed against Katie's cheek, and the girl looked up, to find Thatch's attention had shifted onto her.

“Thank you. I appreciate this. I would like your permission to express my affection in a way you are comfortable with.” Thatch was clearly holding herself back, fighting against her cultural imperatives. That had been part of the agreement. No pet names, and apparently by inference, a minimum of physical messing, though the Affini seemed incapable of wholly avoiding that.

“Among humans,” Katie replied, with half a grin, “it is customary to express affection through hugs. Gosh, I can tell you learned English from a book, Thatch. I wonder if I can teach you any of my bad habits before we leave, like—”

Katie's words were cut off by a sudden “oof,” as she found herself squeezed against the plant's side in a powerful single-arm hug. She could breathe—just about—but talking was an impossibility. How much of Thatch's understanding of human bodies was as abstract as her understanding of the firepit? Did she just know how much force they could handle, but lacked the visceral knowledge of first hand experience? Katie flailed for a moment, then gently pushed back against the arm until the force relented. After a moment to breathe, she pulled back in on it until it was comfortable.

That was, as it happened, still too tight to speak.

The snaps and crackles of their flame drew attention still, but neither seemed to find it alarming. A few insects found the commotion intriguing, and flew to investigate, perhaps wondering what a bright point of light was doing here in the middle of the day. Thankfully, the heat stopped them short of leaping between the logs.

The morning was firmly in progress, and the planet was going back to sleep. The plants were dim; the insects few; the sounds of the forest at a low ebb. A soft breeze flowed in from upriver, bringing with it cool, humid air, and for a few soft minutes the only sounds around were the rustling of leaves and the irregular rhythm of a controlled flame.

Katie's stomach rumbled, adding an unwelcome third instrument to what had been a pleasant duet.

Thatch's arm went slack. “Okay, I think that is quite enough of that. You had something you were going to talk to me about, and I have a meal to prepare. How about you sit right there and get comfortable and I shall make you a nice breakfast?”

Thatch began to rise, but Katie was too clever for her, and grabbed the arm that still draped over her shoulder tightly, forcing Thatch to lift her as well. She shook her head. “I can contribute. If we're cooking I want to do my part. What're we making?”

Thatch emitted a low rumble. One of the mannerisms Katie hadn't quite figured out yet, but apparently not a negative one. One of the ways in which the plant, rampant imperialist or not, was beautiful was the way in which she was a garden unto herself. The compressed weave of her arm parted, letting a vine slide out, bringing with it a small collection of weird looking items.

Unlike the fruits of the day before, these were darker colours. Less attractive by far. About half were deep purple oblate spheroids, with a small root system that had merged with Thatch's natural biology. The others were more of a rounded rectangle in unappealing brown, four or five to a twisted vine that terminated somewhere within Thatch's interior.

Katie couldn't help but grumble. Female-cut engineering overalls didn't even get pockets, and here Thatch was operating as a walking pantry.

“I do not expect you will enjoy the taste of these, but sufficient care and attention should soften the sharp edges. We have clean, fresh water, and—thanks to you—we now have heat. There are plenty of rocks of useful shapes around the riverbed, so I believe we should be able to construct a reasonably inflammable container, albeit one we'll need to be careful with. The ingredients will need preparation, additionally. Which would you like to handle, Katie?”

The affini paused, with a gentle smile on her face, awaiting a decision. Katie considered it, though in truth it was not a hard choice. She only had the one set of clothes, and going diving in such a fast-moving river seemed dangerous. “I can handle preparation. What needs doing?”

Thatch twisted a few of each ingredient off and handed the small pile over. “We shall need these washed and the outer layer removed. Ah, hmn, you'll need a tool for that, I suppose—” Thatch's eyes flicked up and to the right in an unusually human expression. A moment later, one of her smaller vines poked out from a wrist, tying around itself a few times. The end result looked much like a handle, though all that was at the end was a jagged looking thorn. With a pained expression, Thatch grabbed onto the handle and the vine connecting it to her and pulled them apart, then handed the tool over. “Please be careful with this, you have experience with how sharp these are. It should remain sharp by itself for a few days, though after that you'll likely need another.”

Katie took the tool. Almost on instinct, she raised a finger to press against the tip, to test the edge, only to find another vine had gotten in the way. Katie glanced up to find the vine's origin raising an eyebrow down at her. “Doesn't that hurt?” Katie asked.

“Yes, but not as much as it would to see you injure yourself. Please be careful. I am trusting you, here.” Thatch retracted the vine, though still watched closely to make sure Katie didn't jab herself anyway. She didn't; Katie tested the tool on one of the vegetables cradled in her arm. It sunk right in, without much by way of resistance. Good enough.

She made her way over to the river. The bank varied in height, mostly being a few feet above the water level, but perhaps a minute's walk downstream led her to an area where the water and ground almost met. Perfect for cleaning. Thatch followed, fishing out a wide rock with a flat top, which she spent a few moments fussing over before placing at the side of the river. Somewhere to put the ingredients, Katie supposed.

The girl sat cross legged on the bank. The river was fast enough here that the irregular spray often caught her, but it was closer to a cooling mist than real water, and a few minutes by the fire would dry her well, she suspected. She shot her companion a smile, but was immediately distracted as the affini took a running jump into the water.

Though Katie had perhaps gotten used to Thatch assuming her bipedal form, she was not used to the shapeshifter in general. Midway through the ten foot high leap, Thatch's body untangled, pausing at the apex as an unordered mess of red, black, purple, and green. It was a moment that seemed to stretch into ten, but couldn't truly have lasted beyond an instant.

On the way back down, her shape refined, becoming long and pointed, like a three meter long arrow falling from the sky. She crashed through the water's surface with barely a splash, and even the wave caused by so much displaced water was quickly lost within the fierce current. Katie leaned forward, breath half held, as she waited for the re-emergence.

It didn't take long. Something more serpentine than human slithered through the water, breaking through the surface in a shower of mist as it hunted. The river's flow was far beyond anything Katie expected she could survive within, but this creature looked at home here.

Katie took a deep breath. No wonder Thatch didn't try too hard to maintain human mannerisms, when being human was clearly so limiting. She forced her attention back down to her hands, lowering the vegetables into the water to rub and clean them, before taking her tool and scraping the skin away. It cut easily, and the work wasn't hard, but it was difficult not to feel inferior. While Thatch cut through the water like a mythical monster, Katie cut vegetables.

Was that discouraging, or was it a sign that the cosmos had so much more to offer than the Terran Accord ever could have? Katie watched the blurred shape beneath the waves turn a hundred degrees in the blink of an eye, spearing out towards something Katie couldn't spot. She thought of the frozen biped staring into a flame.

This wasn't a mythical beast. As capable as one, perhaps, but what happened when all that potential got wrapped up into something as fragile as a living creature? Give humanity this power and they'd wipe themselves out within the decade, and while the Affini Compact had clearly outlasted that, it evidently wasn't because they were without flaw.

Katie watched scraps of food waste float down the river, serene for just a moment until the currents pulled them towards the chaos and scattered them. Something would find them and feast, Katie hoped. A far cry from waste disposal in the Accord, where anything which could be burned for power would be, and to hell with the consequences.

It couldn't have taken more than half an hour to get the vegetables clean and skinned, even being careful with the 'knife', so Katie sat back and watched her partner's progress. The serpent darted all over the riverbed, occasionally breaking the water to deposit a stone, rock, or gemstone on the side. Thatch caught useful detritus as it moved past her, and dug through the riverbed to extract valuable pieces, though she always seemed to do it carefully, and always rearranged what she wasn't taking to avoid leaving gaps or breaking habitats.

After no more than ten minutes of that, Thatch's sleek head broke out of the water by Katie's seating position. Six gently glowing eyes fixed on her, blinking at irregular intervals. Rivulets of water ran down her surface, black skin freckled with purple dots. The jaw opened, revealing thorns that Katie knew were sharp interleaved in a jaw that she suspected could have bitten her in half. “Food prepared?” Thatch asked.

Katie's surprise was made evident. A slight lean away, eyebrows rising, eyes left a little wider. She knew this creature, but the sudden attention of a predator was something that set off alarm bells deep within her biological heritage. Useless, in this context, but loud, paired with adrenaline and cortisol to force her into a state of stress, so she was ready to fight.

Katie took in a sharp breath, and that was all it took to attract Thatch's concern. A vine streaked out of the water to gently press against her cheek. “Is all well? I hope this arrangement of myself is not distressing to you.”

It was still Thatch. The voice was different, the edges of words seeming sharper. Sibilant, even. Despite that, the important matters held. The tone was caring and the cadence was calming. The way Thatch's head tilted a few degrees as she spoke was exactly the same between this and her bipedal shape. It was the same creature, clearly, and all the guff in Katie's head was nothing but leftover biological waste from a million years of evolving in a totally different context.

Katie nodded, forcing herself to pay attention to Thatch's body. “You surprised me, is all. That's... Do you practice these?”

The serpent nodded, six sharp eyes staying fixed on Katie's two. “Of course,” Thatch admitted. “I know some Affini do this recreationally, to make themselves unique, but this is simply a prior species. Aquatic predators, the, ah... I don't think you'll be able to pronounce this one either, the Xa'a-ackétøth. A lovely species. They used to be very dangerous. They'd almost destroyed themselves and their many worlds by the time we came across them. Surprising even us, they shut down their war engines and surrendered immediately as soon as we offered them a place under our wing, metaphorically speaking.”

Thatch paused, and... frowned? It was hard to tell, the face wasn't very expressive, or at least Katie couldn't read the expressions. “Literally speaking, also, at the time.”

Katie nodded, movement slow and gentle, as if she were trying to avoid making any sudden movements. She caught herself a moment later and nodded properly. “How many of those do you have in you?” she asked. “And can you carry this rock? It's a bit heavy for me.” Katie extended an arm towards the pile of prepared vegetables, and one of Thatch's vines stretched out to lift it.

Katie pushed herself up to her feet and began to walk back towards their camp, such as it was. Her knife was carefully strapped to her leg with one of the few concessions to practicality her uniform possessed. Thatch was carrying quite a lot, once she picked up her own pile of materials, but she had little trouble swimming upriver and holding a conversation even so.

“Three and... a half?” Thatch swam at the side of the river, looking as casual as if the water were still. Katie glanced over to make sure she wasn't cheating, finding handholds with underwater vines. She wasn't. “This one; my more human form shares a lot of similarities with another bipedal shape; and a kind of flightless bird. I did have that last one capable of flight for a while, but it was more technology than biology and was far too much hassle to maintain.”

Katie walked on the other side of the boundary, where soft dirt caressed her boots and her single shape was incapable of even carrying the fruits of her own labour without risking ruination. “You must live such interesting lives,” she admitted, glancing away, only to have her attention drawn back by a low chuckle.

“We are so bored that we change our shapes to match everyone we meet. The universe is a vast expanse of monotony, Katie. You are the only interesting things outside of the Compact. Life is unique, surprising, and joyful. Why do you think our culture prioritises you so?”

Katie looked away again. It seemed incomprehensible. How could humanity possibly be of enough use to justify so much effort? Realistically speaking, the Indomitable could have been left well enough alone, and they would eventually have run out of food and died in space. They weren't a threat. Hunting them down was pointless effort. How could they possibly be worth it?

The camp wasn't far, and so it didn't take long to reach it. Katie hurried on ahead to dry herself by the flames. With hardly more than a splash, Thatch emerged from the water, and was halfway to human form before Katie had even managed to turn, somehow without dropping the food. She strode over, busying herself with organising the spoils and gathering further from the environment at a dizzying pace.

Within the minute, sticks and branches had been pruned and cut to size, tied together with some length of entwined fiber, and arranged to create a harness that sat over the firepit. Vine and leaf and plantlife mixed with stone to create a vaguely misshapen pot. Greenery to lash it all together and give the natural materials structure enough to be useful, so that the rocks could achieve things neither side of the construction could manage alone.

Thatch dipped the construction in the river, then hung the pot over the fire. Flames licked the thin stone bottom, but nothing caught alight. They both let out a breath they hadn't realised they'd been holding.

“Should I cut these into pieces?” Katie asked, gesturing to the vegetables. “They're probably a little too large to eat straight.”

Thatch's face was much easier to read while she was putting effort into making it human. A moment of hesitation, followed by the realisation that Katie's mouth was not large enough to eat a whole vegetable. She handed the stone platter over with a nod. “Do. We have some time before the water is boiling. Tell me about your dream while you are, though please do not lose your focus on the cutting edge.”

Katie nodded. Having something to busy her hands tended to help while she was trying to explain something difficult. Despite the firmness of the ingredients, Thatch's thorn still sliced through it like it was hot syntharine.

“I dreamed about some old cargo ship I used to crew on,” she started. “It wasn't a great experience, the operator was a jerk. Tried to abandon me on some ass-end of nowhere spaceport to avoid paying my last cheque. Asshole.” Chop, chop, chop. Thatch seemed to be keeping one eye on the fire and one eye on the cutting.

“Jump engineer's the best job I've ever had. I was lucky to get into school for it. Most couldn't, but my parents still talked to me back then—assholes—and they pulled some strings. I thought I was getting some real social mobility, y'know? Skilled work, something that was hard to replace. It's not easy to maintain or run one of those things and learning about it was meant to be a ticket to a better life.”

Chop. Chop. Chop. Katie's cuts came in time with her words.

”'course, as soon as I graduated, better designs started appearing that were easier to run. I got stuck on the shitty ships that couldn't afford to upgrade, and then a year or so back the Cosmic Navy started drafting anyone with skills and they still used manual operated units, so they could squeeze a little extra out of them.”

Chop.

Chop.

Chop.

“I think you taught me more about how those things actually work than two and a half years of school did. I don't know anything—” Chop— “about this. I know how to use—” Chop— “a few specific models and nothing about how they work, really. It feels bad. I don't know how often I came close to dying because they chose to teach me a user manual instead of the fucking physi—”

No chop. Katie looked down at the knife, with its tip precariously close to her own finger and the blade half an inch deep in one of Thatch's vines. Katie winced, freezing in place while Thatch moved over. The creature sat beside her and gently reached out to take the tool away from her. Thatch took a moment to rearrange them, shifting Katie around to her other side with a fast, but comfortable, motion so she was kept away from the cutting area.

“They made no choice, Katie.” Thatch kept her eyes on her work. “I do not believe that humanity understood the underlying principles any better than you did. You are right to worry, any design which crashes back into real-space as violently as yours is flirting with disaster.” Chopchopchopchop.

Katie sagged. “Those newer designs?” she asked, holding out a little hope, at least.

“I believe they simply automated what you were doing and added a little redundancy to the components which failed most often. I remember reading a syndicated article from one of our shipbreaking outposts that was simply horrified at the risks humanity had been subjecting itself to.” Thatch didn't look up. She had good knife etiquette, and presumably didn't want a second injured vine. The one Katie had cut seemed to have been safely stowed away, hopefully where it could be healed.

“Oh. I didn't know that. They replaced me for nothing?”

Thatch looked up. The knife fell silent, carefully placed against the stone surface of the cutting board. The hand that had been holding it came up to Katie's cheek in a firm hold. “They were fools. Would you like to know how the physics really works?”

Katie nodded, fast but small movements, looking up into Thatch's eyes. They didn't look predatory like this, though Katie acknowledged that they were the same eyes, if fewer.

“Then, if you're careful and good at following instructions, let's treat our extended stay here as an opportunity for education. We will need to build something using the same principles if we're to signal the Elettarium for rescue. I mean careful, however.” A vine raised the knife into Katie's line of sight. “This is a dangerous tool, but it is entirely tame by comparison to even the simplest superluminal beacon. With this, you could hurt yourself. With that, you could do lasting harm to this entire ecosystem. Can I trust you to be careful, Katie?”

Katie nodded more rapidly, feeling a soft flush on her cheeks. Excitement. Like her first day of university, before she'd figured out it was all a sham. Like her first jump, before she'd realised the next hundred would be the same thing over and over and none of them would take her where she wanted to go.

Thatch smiled, taking a moment to ruffle Katie's hair before cutting the last few slices and dumping the ingredients into the now-boiling water, followed by a few twists of some smaller plants. “Then I'll teach you more about hyperspace theory than any human has ever known, and you'll build us a beacon that rescues the both of us. It will be tricky, and we will need materials that are likely to be hard to synthesise, but I expect you shall have us home and safe before long.”

Katie took a deep breath, nodding one last time. Thatch wasn't a god, and neither was she, but Katie knew she'd always been more capable than the Terran Accord would have room for, and if she played her cards right, maybe she could prove to these invaders that she could be useful.

Clink!

Katie took a deep breath through the mask of leaves tied around her mouth, shifted her stance, and lifted the pickaxe.

Clink!

It crashed down against the rock again, this time breaking a chunk off. Breathing hard, she forced aching muscles to respond, bringing the heavy instrument back up to shoulder level, so she could put her whole body into the swing.

Clink!

The rock she was hammering at cracked into a dozen pieces. Katie let the tool fall, and went down to one knee, sifting through the rubble until she found her prize. Another little nugget of metal fit to sit atop her little pile of similar nuggets. They wouldn't be much use like this, but with a bit of time in a kiln and some careful working, they ought to make passable makeshift wiring.

The nugget made a much quieter clink as it settled atop the ones beneath. Katie raised the pickaxe again. It was heavy, and her muscles were straining just to lift it.

She'd been trapped on an empty planet for a couple of days now, and she didn't want to be here any longer than she had to be. She had a stomach full of passable food and and comfortable place to sleep, and even a mentor teaching her how to survive, but what she didn't have was a tangible sense of physical progress.

Hence, clink.

With metal, she could make wires. With wires and one of those vegetables, she could probably extract some electricity, and failing that, they had a river to build a generator on. With that, they could... make some basic lighting? It wasn't really necessary, now that they'd discovered her companion could glow like a bulb on demand. A radio? There was very unlikely anything to pick up. A transmitter of some kind would be needed, though. The hard part of getting themselves rescued was going to be opening enough of a hole in spacetime to put a message through, but they'd still need something to actually send that message.

Hence. Clink.

“Katie, darling, are you still in there?” A voice called, as melodious as ever. Thatch Aquae, Second Bloom, not that Katie wholly understood the implications of the latter part. Why encode how many times you'd gotten hurt into your name? Was it thrill-seeking, or social shaming? Had Thatch gained or lost standing here?

“Uh—” Clink!— “huh,” she called back.

“This really is not necessary, you know,” the affini complained, needing to hunch down just to fit inside of the cave. “I am already in the process of growing the right kind of fine vines to serve as electrical conduits. In a day we shall have as much as we could want.”

Thatch didn't understand. There was an irony to the creature attempting to stop her from mining, though admittedly she had supported the endevour enough to build Katie the pick. A wooden handle tied to a wooden head, tipped with something sharp and hard. Probably not actually diamond, but some kind of gemstone.

“I—” Clink!— “know. Wanna—” Clink!— “do something. Feeling—” Clink!— “restless. Can't just sit around and—” Clink!— “wait.”

Katie moved to swing the pick again, but a gentle vine wrapped around it, another around her wrist, carefully but firmly removing the tool from her grip. “We can find you other things to do that won't risk doing as much harm to your body. Please remember that I need my student to be capable of very precise actions, and exacerbating your injury will not help.”

Katie grumbled. In some ways, this was like being back at school. Power-tripping professors making her wait around with nothing to do. Admittedly, there were good reasons here, but still. “Ugh. Yes, Miss Aquae,” she groaned, briefly imagining the affini in a scholar's robe, like some of her old tutors. At least Thatch actually knew what she was talking about, sometimes.

Thatch visibly winced, the edges of her body almost seeming to wilt. “Please do not call me that, Katie. 'Thatch' is fine, but if you really need an honourific then perhaps 'Guide' or 'Mentor' would be more appropriate?”

Katie busied herself picking up the handful of little nuggets she'd gathered. She'd ridden Thatch upriver until they'd found somewhere that looked promising, and thankfully it was much easier to find surface metals on a wholly pre-industrial planet.

“They hardly roll off the tongue, do they?” Katie complained. She didn't understand why she was being so snippy today. The first couple of days she'd hoped that the action and adventure of everything would convince her brain to forget that she wasn't happy, but apparently today was one of those days where everything anyone did or said was annoying.

Thatch had been accommodating, if confused, by Katie's sudden urge to get away from the camp and do something physical, at least so far. “Unfortunately, a significant amount of the time it takes my people to learn a new language is taken up by finding the good terms of address and appropriating them for ourselves. For a relationship between equals, we are cursed to be oblique.”

It was entirely unclear whether this was a joke or not, and Katie wasn't in the mood to ask. Once Katie had the metals all safely wrapped up, she left the cave. The sunlight was blinding after so long in the dark, but if she squinted, Katie could mostly avoid stumbling over the rocks scattered around the area.

Ugh. Why was she like this? Thatch was just trying to help. Katie wished she could point to something specific that had her mood so sour, but in all honesty their situation seemed to be a clear improvement over cowering in a rebel cruiser. The food still wasn't great, but at least she no longer had to pay for it. She still didn't have any humans to talk to, though she had some companionship now.

Katie looked out over the river. They were miles up from their campsite here, and there were some clear differences. A new species of fish was hanging around. These didn't leap out of the water, but they were much more friendly than the predators back at camp. The water flow was slower—there were a few tributaries adding pressure a little downstream—and so things were calm enough that if Katie sat and dangled a finger into the water, she quickly got colourful triangles coming to taste the salts on her hand.

Even those chromatic beauties didn't do much to improve Katie's mood.

Thatch emerged from the cave, carrying another few nuggets for Katie's pile, with the pickaxe hanging from her waist. It looked comically small on her, but it was heavy enough that Katie appreciated not having to lift it. Quietly, the affini moved to sit at Katie's side, making her own offering to the fishes.

They were a little interested in the novelty, but soon drifted back towards Katie, who had the tastier digits. One small victory for her.

“I am somewhat at a loss, Katie,” Thatch admitted. “I know what would help the humans in our care if they expressed your symptoms, but I have neither the ingredients nor your permission to see if it would help you, too.”

Katie snorted. The movement was a little too aggressive, and ended up shifting her fingers, sending the fish running to safety. Katie sighed, but left her hand in place, hoping they would return. “More drugs?”

Thatch shrugged, retrieving her own fingers and replacing them with a root. The fish weren't interested in that either, but so far Thatch had only tasted any of the kind of food Katie ate while she was cooking, and claimed to get no nutrition out of it, so seemed to truly survive off of water and dirt. “Partially. Drugs alone cannot make something truly happy.”

She paused.

“At least, not without them losing part of themselves. We are caretakers, Katie, and ruthless ones. We will use whatever we have to to make the universe happy.”

Katie rolled her eyes, focusing on the water. One brave fish was returning. A shining blue, with an orange stripe running around its body, around the middle. It gave Katie's finger a careful inspection. “What a crock. You can't just make people be happy for no reason and pretend it's real.”

Often, when confronted with the obvious contradictions of her race, Thatch fell quiet. Katie knew better than to think she was making progress convincing Thatch away from their cause, as she never seemed to grow less certain they were doing the right thing, but at very least she would learn what Katie didn't want. Maybe, when they got back, that would help her navigate their culture well enough to avoid finding herself in another trap of circumstance.

“Why are you sad, Katie?” Thatch asked, not needing much of a pause at all, this time.

Why was she sad? Rationally, life was looking up for her, though perhaps it was simply depressing that being stranded with only a houseplant for company was an upgrade. That didn't feel right, though. She was learning about things she'd always been enthusiastic about; learning how to be useful even in a hyper-advanced civilisation. If Thatch's claims were true, she'd never worry about affording a meal again, and a bed of vines and leaves here was likely to be the worst night's sleep she'd ever have from this point on—and even that was better than her bunk back on the ship had been.

Katie was silent for long moments. The river's gentle flow provided a peaceful soundtrack to her misery. “I don't know.” She looked away from the fishes, away from Thatch, away from everything. Her heart felt like it was in her stomach and it hurt to breathe and there was no reason for it. “It just happens sometimes. Human bodies are kinda shit, and I'm stuck with one. Sometimes something just goes wrong and I spend the day miserable, but I'll be better tomorrow, probably. I usually am. I'm sorry you have to deal with me.”

Thatch's still-damp finger drew a diagonal line down Katie's cheek, and then, hesitantly, balled into a fist and lightly tapped her on the shoulder. That got a weak laugh. The affini was trying to act human, even if she wasn't very good at it. That made two of them.

“Why is that real, then, Katie? You speak as if what is making you sad is not truly you. It is 'your body', but not truly what you see as yourself?” Katie glanced back towards her companion, but couldn't stand to maintain eye contact. Thatch seemed concerned and Katie wished she didn't have to be. Katie would be fine, she just needed time. She could be miserable for a while. She was used to it.

The bravest fish had found success, and the more cowardly ones were deep in envy. A pair of green swimmers moved towards the blue one—one from each side—and tried to nudge it away, so they could taste the oils and salts of a humanoid finger. Katie frowned, slowly moving her hand to protect her favourite.

“It doesn't feel like me,” she admitted. “Nothing is different between today and yesterday, really, and I was enthusiastic yesterday. You're a good mentor, once you get the flirting out of your system.”

Thatch paused, making a few experimental noises before seemingly deciding to ignore the claim entirely. “...regardless, if I could take that sadness away, would that not then make you more you?”

It was too fucking early in the morning for philosophy and these jealous fish wouldn't leave the brave one alone. Katie slipped another hand into the water to shield it, but the green ones were relentless, nipping at fins and scales.

“I don't even know what I am, Thatch; you're asking me questions I can't answer. Why don't you make yourself useful and help me keep this fish safe?”

“The green one?” asked the plant. It made sense she would have an affinity for green things, Katie supposed.

“No, the orange one. The green ones are jerks.”

Thatch hummed in consideration, before reaching inside of herself and pulling out one of their containers of water. Katie hadn't thought that bringing them would be necessary, given that they were next to a clean river, but her companion had insisted. The contents were dumped out, and in one smooth motion Thatch snatched the orange fish and its environment right out of the water, barely ruffling its fins. She handed it over to Katie.

“There, a pet. Perhaps focusing on keeping this creature safe and healthy will give you a way to feel useful while your body is misbehaving.” The plant shooed away the green fish, though now that their victim had vanished they'd lost interest in Katie's hand regardless. She rose, extending a vine to help Katie up too. Katie accepted, because getting up without spilling her container would have been a challenge.

“I don't think I'm stable enough to take care of a pet, Thatch. I don't want anything dependent on me, I can't even deal with myself half the time.” The plant ignored her and turned to leave. “Thatch? Hey, get back here!”

Thatch paused, but only to extend a series of vines in a staircase pattern, giving Katie an easy walk up to her shoulders. “While I am not familiar with this exact species, I would expect that taking it out of flowing water for an extended period will not be good for it. Come, you can build it a more suitable home back at camp.”

Katie tried to argue, or at least tried to come up with a plausible argument, for why she couldn't do this. She obviously had the time. Even once they could really get started on their project, there would be a lot of waiting and rest. She didn't want to hurt the fish, but Katie suspected that if she were doing that bad a job, Thatch would take over. That, at least, gave her a safety net. She couldn't screw up so badly something died.

Begrudging, Katie stepped up the ascending cascade of plantlife until she could take her place sitting around Thatch's neck. She had the affini fairly well trained now, but with one hand clutching her new pet, she could only use the one vine for steering. It felt a little less precise, but Thatch was very good at being responsive, and they were soon roaring through the forest again.

With the wind in Katie's hair, it was hard not to feel something. Thatch handled better than any ship Katie had had occasion to fly. Shifts in Katie's balance resulted in slight course changes, such that half the time piloting could be done almost subconsciously, leaning around trees and rocks. The one vine Katie had a good grasp on let her make more aggressive changes to their travel.

Still. Existence was frustrating. Katie wanted to feel alive. She leaned left, hard, while pulling the vine along with. Thatch, to her credit, immediately pulled to the side, even leaning herself so that the centrifugal force of the turn kept Katie, and her pet, safely in place. They shot out over the river, and once Thatch was unable to grab ahold of any trees, their speed did begin to drop. Vines still pierced the water, anchoring to the riverbed to keep them moving, but it wasn't... fast. Katie wanted fast. She wanted the wind in her hair. The mist in her face. Something physical. Adrenaline. Excitement.

“Can you do the, uh, the fish people thing?” Katie asked. Last time she'd come face to face with Thatch's alternate form, it had been intimidating, but maybe that was the kind of energy she was looking for. Thatch lifted a hand and wiggled it, expressing uncertainty, and Katie did feel a flush of pride. She'd taught Thatch that.

“I am not sure I can provide as smooth a journey for you,” Thatch admitted. “It is much easier to absorb shocks with my vines than it would be in the water. If you can keep a tight grip on your pet, and keep the container firmly closed, however, I would be willing to try.”

Katie peeked inside of the water container. Her orange fish seemed perfectly content so far, exploring its new environment. Katie experimentally moved it around, and the water seemed to keep it well insulated, like the interface tank of a gunship keeping its little pilot insulated from the forces around it.

Katie nodded, folding shut the little flap that sealed the container. The wooden clasping mechanism Thatch had devised was sturdy enough, but Katie kept her hand over it regardless. A pair of vines lifted her into the air while Thatch twisted beneath, shedding humanity to take on a form that was clearly a dominant force. The vines lowered her down, until she was sitting on Thatch's... back? Body? The part just short of the beast's head. With her vines drawn tight, Thatch looked every bit the sleek predator, aside from the twin additions of a seatbelt to keep Katie steady and the control vine to make this something other than a theme park ride.

“I shall defer to your guidance on our course, Katie. Please be careful.”

Katie took a deep breath, grasping the vine with curious fingers, and slowly pushed forward. They took off at a steady pace, and Katie spent a few minutes steering them around in wide circles. She knew that she couldn't actually come to harm here, but it still felt like a bad idea to just take off without having some appreciation for what this body could actually do. Thatch spent half her time in bipedal form cheating, simply using vines for everything and ignoring the limits of the human body, but here? This was something real. Somewhere out in the universe, something really moved like this.

Katie pushed forward, and they started to pick up speed. Thatch cut through the water with terrifying efficiency, sending white sheets of foam off to each side. There was less to avoid than in the forest, but the river was still dotted with rocks and the occasional fallen tree, and so there was plenty to dodge and a seemingly endless amount of extra speed to gain.

By the time they reached their campsite they were moving at an incredible rate. Katie pressed on regardless, speeding up, and leaving their home in the metaphorical dust. They needed to explore anyway, and the adrenaline felt good when it was something she was in control of. Better, with the safety net of knowing that even if she screwed up nothing truly bad would happen.

The pair of them were still figuring out how to coexist, but progress was being made. Sometimes that was intangible, like Thatch learning how to deal with a mood swing, and sometimes it was very much the opposite, like Katie learning when to yank up on the vine to get a really high leap out of the water to clear a tree without Thatch needing to take over and prevent them from barreling straight into it.

After... a little while, Katie noticed something odd glinting a little way further downstream. By the time she'd taken note they were almost upon it. She hauled back on the vine and braced herself for whatever that instruction would get interpreted as.

Thatch leaped up out of the water, physically throwing Katie off of herself into the air. For a brief, terrifying instant she was airborne and ballistic, before a pair of vines hauled her back in to Thatch's waiting, humanoid arms while a dozen vines behind her braced to bring them to a hard stop. Katie squeezed shut her eyes, trying to ignore the not-so-distant memory of slamming into a bulkhead. She could see what she was slamming into and it was not metal. She gritted her teeth, forcing the sensation down, only semi-successfully. There was something that needed processing, there.

“What's wrong?” Thatch asked, looking down with alarm. Katie rapidly glanced around, suddenly very conscious that she may have reacted to nothing at all. After a few moments of looking, she spotted the glint, still a little ways downstream of them, and pointed.

“That... seems unusual,” Thatch replied, sentence growing less certain with each short word. There was a square of something that looked metallic sticking out of the undergrowth. Thatch's vines made for a smooth journey over to the riverside, and they walked from there, cautiously approaching.

Katie knelt beside it, and pushed back the plantlife.

“Well, shit,” she breathed. “That's not Terran.”

Hiding within the bush was a broken scrap of metal, with torn up edges and lettering evident across it. Maybe half an inch thick and around a foot across in the other directions. Not English, and judging from Thatch's curiosity, not Affini either. It looked like part of a hull, or part of casing, that had been torn apart, but there was no chance it was a natural occurrence. What looked like rivets joined two pieces together. It was clearly machined. Katie carefully lifted it in her free hand.

“This feels lightweight,” she guessed. “Can't be iron or steel. This is aeroframe grade. Maybe even spacefaring, a satellite or something.” Katie paused, cheeks flushing, realising where she was and who she was with. “Uh, at least by Terran standards. I guess that probably doesn't generalise.”

Thatch shook her head. “Early technology tends to take similar paths. Physics imposes the same constraints on us all. May I...?” she asked, holding out a hand. Katie passed it over. Thatch took it, pressing her thumb into the metal until it began to deform. “It is fairly strong for this weight, by usual early civilisation standards. It is unlikely this kind of alloy would be naturally produced, and we have yet to find any evidence of intelligent life here that could have built it. I think you may be right; this is likely to be a visitor to this place, just as we are.”

They stood quietly, thinking through the implications of that. Without the constant motion and excitement of travel, though, Katie was quickly distracted by a chill in the air and an emptiness in her stomach. Her clothing was soaked through, and it didn't take long before she was shivering. That caught Thatch's attention, and the two of them silently agreed that the way home should be very much less exciting than the way here had been.

As Katie settled into place around her steed's neck, she let out a deep breath. “I think we should build that radio.”

Thatch only answered with a rapid takeoff, heading upriver at a more reasonable, but still rapid, clip.

Thatch Aquae, Second Bloom, carefully stirred a bubbling pot. The vegetables within swirled in dense patterns, pulling a mix of spices behind in a complicated dance that it was easy to get lost in. The first batch had not been quite to Katie's taste, but Thatch was feeling better about the second. More spice, more time boiling, vegetables thinner cut to give them more opportunity to mellow out. It would have been preferable to give Katie some more variety, but unfortunately this was what Thatch had to work with, and so she was determined to make it work.

She looked up at her student, who was busying herself with the final stages of constructing a tank, of sorts, for her new pet. Thatch had carefully guided her towards a design that would work, and now she was building something which would hang into the rushing water below, with carefully cut holes to allow some water flow without subjecting the weaker fish to the full force of this area of river.

It was hard not to wonder whether she was doing the right thing. Thatch's injectors itched, watching the poor creature struggle with her own emotional state like this. Anybody else in her position would already have Katie so wrapped up in chemicals that she wouldn't be capable of this kind of mood swing. Thatch couldn't even disagree that it would be better for her.

She stirred the soup, injectors dry. Not having the drug loadout for it was a poor excuse, she knew. She'd gathered enough basic ingredients that she could have synthesised something better than she had. If she couldn't even get this soup right, though, then how could she possibly trust herself to manage a delicate emotional state to Katie's benefit?

The girl paused, halfway through whittling one of the support structures on which the tank would descend. She set the thorn she was using down and lay the half-finished piece over her lap, attention drifting towards the setting sun. Her sigh was a brief exhalation, but it seemed to echo as a refutation of Thatch's efforts to date. There was only one other sapient on this planet and Thatch was somehow failing to make her happy.

Thatch could leave the soup to simmer. She hung the makeshift ladle onto a burr in the harness above and quietly made her way over to the riverside, then sat to Katie's side. She took up the half-finished project and extended one of her own thorns, so she could pick up where Katie had left off.

“How are you feeling, Katie?” Thatch made a conscious effort to keep her hands doing things that Katie's would be able to, in case the girl was watching for tips.

“Like shit, still. I dunno why, please don't feel like it's your fault.” Katie spoke with a flat affect, sounding a mix between exhausted and actively frustrated by the question.

It was Thatch's fault, though, wasn't it? Somebody else in her place could fix it. She focused on the twig in her hand, cutting a little floral pattern into it as she went. Perhaps simply providing company could be enough.

Their local star was well on its way beneath the horizon now, but she didn't need to look to check. Thatch could feel the rhythm of this planet. Her body urged her to respond. To join in on the evening's festivities by lighting up and attracting insects and other small creatures.

It was easy to ignore, but still an uncomfortable experience. The material that was usually available for transplantation aboard a ship had its daily cadence bioengineered out. That there was an urge in the back of Thatch's head that she hadn't put there was discomforting; how much worse must it be for Katie, who had never experienced the lack of such things?

Katie seemed to be staring out over the river, though it was unclear what she was actually paying attention to. Perhaps the growing illumination of the forest had her transfixed again. Thatch saw no reason to rouse her, if that were the case.

After a few minutes, Thatch moved on to the next piece of wood. The design she'd led Katie to wasn't a complicated one, but it did have a few moving parts and the little one seemed to struggle with the detail.

When the next piece was mostly done, and halfway decorated, Katie began to speak. “I think you're probably right. This doesn't feel like me. Healthcare is way too expensive, so I never talked to anyone about it, but I do wish that I'd gotten that chance.”

Thatch lowered the wood, mid-chisel. She had to help, didn't she? “I have several kinds of medication which could help, if—”

Katie shook her head, emphatically. “No. No, I... That wasn't worth it, last time.”

Silence fell across them, for a moment. Human psychology was much harder without powerful tools for making precise adjustments. Thatch bridged the gap between them with a hand, taking one of Katie's and giving it a squeeze. Touch and warmth were still capable, and simply from that alone, Thatch extracted a brief flash of smile.

“Come, sit closer,” she insisted. Katie would resist if pulled, Thatch had found, but any untamed beast could be tempted if offered one of its basic needs. The girl relented, shuffling close enough that Thatch could drape an arm over her. “If you will permit me a few minutes to work, I could—”

“I don't want any drugs, Thatch.”

The affini's injectors twitched. She should ignore the demand. Katie was suffering and she could fix it. She aught to fix it. If she weren't so stars-damned hesitant then Katie wouldn't be so stars-damned miserable. She hoped that her internal turmoil didn't show on the outside. It really wouldn't do for Katie to be aware of the sharp needles a centimeter away from her skin, dripping with something that would be good for her.

Then what? Katie would spend the next few weeks happily learning about spacial routing. Katie would wake up every morning with a smile on her face. Katie would fall asleep each night in the comforting embrace of her clodding de-facto owner and then at some point Thatch would make a mistake and break her.

Thatch blinked a few times in rapid succession, as something tapped against the side of her face. She glanced across at the poor thing she'd accidentally trapped when she'd lost focus on her form and consciously forced herself to relax. Thankfully, Katie used her newfound freedom of movement to lean into the embrace, not to escape it.

“But this is nice,” the girl admitted. “Company; closeness. I wish we could be doing more, but honestly, I'm exhausted.” Her head fell to the side, nestling against a vine or two. Thatch shrugged the spare biomatter she had hanging from her back over to cover the girl and keep her warm, carefully regulating her rhythm to avoid lulling Katie to sleep.

“You okay, Thatch?”

“You needn't worry about me, little Katie.” The rhythms were hardly conscious. It may have been something Thatch's species had always been with, or perhaps it was something developed in the early days of their campaign. Perhaps it was only her. Thatch would freely admit to being more interested in recent history, not ancient tales. Her body thrummed with heat and life in a slow, gentle dance. Her voice harmonised to the same tune, and unless Thatch took particular care to avoid it, gentle movements tended to match up as well. There were no metronomes in the Affini Compact, because their cadence was simply natural.

Thatch was sure that most found it convenient, but she had to put particular effort into keeping herself discordant enough to avoid sending Katie to sleep when they were this close together.

Thatch felt a sharp exhalation of breath against her side. A sigh, probably. In a feeble attempt to forestall the inevitable, she held Katie tighter against her side, but it was not enough.

“That's not a yes.”

Dirt. If she couldn't come up with a convincing answer, then what little comfort Thatch had been able to provide would be undone before it had truly begun. Somehow, Katie kept managing to see through her misdirection, and Thatch couldn't bring herself to lie.

“No, it is not. I feel as though I should be able to help you more than I am.”

Katie stiffened, a little. Dirt and decay, was even that too much? Thatch was not about to let her own morosity become contagious.

Vines carefully stroked across Katie's hair and down her arms. For a moment, Thatch indulged herself, letting warmth, the motion of vines, voice, scent, and light fall into the same harmony. “Quiet now, little one,” she whispered. “You are in no danger here. Your wishes will be respected.”

The poor thing calmed back down, lulled into comfort. Katie spent a moment breathing out a slow sigh, lowering her chin and gently tugging the sheet of plantlife further over herself.

It was not to be for long, unfortunately. Katie grumbled, raising her head and fumbling around with an arm until she managed to grab ahold of one of the strands of flower-laden vine that made up Thatch's hair. She yanked, and Thatch obliged, leaning down to look at her.

“What did you just do?” Katie asked. Her voice was soft, but her eyes were hard. Little chance of distracting her further, at least not without Thatch declaring herself a liar. Lying to a compliant ward was at best distasteful, and at worst a significant moral quandary. Not an option Thatch wished to consider.

“I was simply providing comfor—”

Katie's hand raised to press Thatch's mouth closed. That would not actually prevent her from speaking, but the intent was clear enough.

“No, none of that technically correct but misleading stuff,” Katie insisted, drawing a wince out of an affini that had thought herself clever. “You did something, I... I think.”

Katie paused, head lowering back to rest against Thatch's side.

“W's nice,” she admitted, voice quiet, speaking more to Thatch's torso than anything else. “Don't stop?”

Thatch felt a low, throbbing heat settle in her core. The rustling of her own undergrowth was enough to cause a breeze. How was she supposed to handle this? She couldn't. If she took charge of this girl she would break her, and what was this but the first step down a slippery slope?

Carefully discordant, Thatch stroked a hand down Katie's hair. “I think that you may wish to reconsider. We have agreed not to, to use your words, 'mess with your head.', no?” Her touch earned a contented mumble, but her words earned a titter.

“If we take that literally then even talking to me is wrong. I meant... your chemicals and stuff, anything where you're putting something inside of me to change how I feel. Just talking to me isn't that, that's just conversation. Come on, I've been awful all day, don't tell me you've been holding out on me because you thought cheering me up would be wrong.”

Thatch contracted. Was that what she was doing? So afraid of doing wrong that she'd let a living creature wallow in easily fixable pain simply to spare herself the responsibility? Her people would be ashamed.

A low rumble buzzed through her form. Not one of the mannerisms she put on intentionally. The low, slow bass line of her own music, and the sound Thatch drew comfort from in moments of uncertainty.

“Very well.” She spoke in only that low beat. A complicated arrangement of dexterous growths deep within her body drew in air from all around, imparted vibration, and let it escape. Usually, Thatch would direct it towards her mouth for the sake of keeping up appearances, but there was no reason to be so limited here.

“Then,” she spoke, forcing herself to loosen up a little so she had the flexibility to raise her pitch. She selected a relatively small, sensitive vine and directed it to Katie's hand, carefully closing her fingers around it. “I will stop if you ask, or if you lose your grip.”

The girl was stubborn, holding it tight. Thatch took a few careful breaths. She didn't breathe to extract oxygen from the air, like Katie, but running it through her body was still a good technique for centering and focus. More so than that, however, Thatch had been holding her natural rhythms apart for so many years that though she felt like it should be easy to slip back into, the muscle memory was no longer there.

It would be a strain no matter whether she let herself sing or tore her harmony apart, then. She had not done the former for more than a few seconds at a time in decades. In all likelihood, she wouldn't need more than that now, either. Her delicate problem would fall asleep or ask her to stop and either way Thatch would no longer have to worry that she was holding herself back selfishly.

“Please take a deep breath, Katie, and allow your eyes to close.”

Thatch spoke, all the different tones of her voice finally lining up. It was so much easier to speak this way, when she could direct her whole body as one piece, not holding different parts of herself to different standards so they could sing to an unnatural beat. She had worried that matching it to the rhythm of her own movements would be hard, but it wasn't. Her vines danced across Katie's skin in precise tempo, where the peaks of her words were joined by the apex of her heat and the strongest of her touches.

It was natural. It was normal.

“And breathe out,” she instructed, hand brushing down Katie's cheek as she did so. Body cooling, touch growing lighter, voice growing quieter. It drew Katie in like a moth to a flame.

“Let's take another breath,” Thatch whispered, though in truth she could have stayed silent. Her voice was an important part of the melody, but only part. With Katie so close, her every sense would be feeling it, in swells of scent and heat, the quiet music of plantlife in motion, the brush of soft leaf on skin, and, much to Thatch's own surprise, the gentle light of her new bioluminescence, reacting to her natural pattern as if it were an integrated part of her.

“And out,” she whispered, voice so quiet it could barely be heard. She dipped one leg in a way a real biped never could so that Katie's natural option was to shuffle closer still, arriving on the affini's lap. Thatch doubted that Katie would complain about a little cheating. Not right now. Her grip on the safety vine remained tight, though Thatch noticed with interest that Katie's strength was dancing to her tune now too.

A series of vines made careful adjustments to Katie's position, making sure she wasn't lying uncomfortably or in any way that would harm circulation. Thatch's warm hand stroked down the back of her head, fingers tapping to the same soft song as all else in Katie's world.

They repeated the breathing exercises a good few times. At the end of each, Thatch could feel Katie's grip growing weaker, but never quite loosening entirely. The affini chuckled, a low chorus of wordless sound that fit into the melody without much by way of conscious effort. “You're not going to let go of that vine, are you, little one?” she asked, more to herself than the girl. Depending on how relaxed she was, she might not even read the soft sounds as speech. They fit into the same score as everything else, after all, what about them would draw attention?

Katie's head gave a tiny shake. “Not going to let go...” she whispered, voice tangled deep in Thatch's strings.

“Comfortable like this?” Thatch asked, a vine tilting Katie's head up as she spoke, so girl and sentence reached a pinnate apex, entwined together.

A tiny nod. Eyes remained closed. Breathing slow, matching Thatch's cycling warmth with impressive precision. “Comfortable... this,” she mumbled, first word a little too long, second a little too short, so that it still matched the cadence of their song overall.

Thatch's breath ran up through her back and out through her front, ruffling Katie's hair. The girl took a deep breath, smile deepening a little. Adorable. This was safe, Thatch thought. Hoped. Just comfort and quiet words, no more than that. No lasting effects, other than hopefully a stronger bond of trust between them.

A careful hand tilted the precious flower's head back down, letting her curl up against Thatch's chest in a position perfect for a quiet embrace. Thatch didn't speak, but she didn't have to. She was her rhythm, in a very real way. It took some effort to maintain, still, but it was easier than she'd expected. Perhaps this new form lacking the accumulated harm of fifty years of denying herself this made it easier to find again. Perhaps it was simply easier to let herself be when she had a focus.

Either way, Thatch sat and watched the sunset while Katie half-slumbered in her lap, enjoying the slow descent into night, while she fussed and fiddled with her smiling ward.

***

Katie wasn't going to let go of that vine.

She was comfortable like this.

She breathed in, and the heat and light intensified. That Thatch could match her motions so precisely was impressive indeed, but Katie found herself not dwelling on it. She just focussed on her breathing. The dark mood that had settled over her all day could find nowhere to hide while Thatch's light filled her so, and all Katie needed to do to feel that was to breathe.

In, hold... and out. The out was important, she knew, despite the emptiness it brought. She couldn't rush it. She had to give Thatch time to complete the cycle. The out left her feeling cold, left her skin with a needy tingle, but Thatch didn't seem to mind her leaning closer in, and the creature's hand running over her scalp did a lot to soothe the sharp edges.

That part was nice. Still, it was her least favourite part. As soon as she could, Katie breathed in. A nice, deep breath. As her lungs swelled, so did all else. Heat radiated in from all around her, like a warm and heavy blanket. It could have been so warm as to be stifling, but the breeze picked up too, bringing with it a sweet, soft scent. A quiet rustling filled her ears, something to focus on with every sense.

With those, it might have been a wonder that Katie didn't simply drift off to sleep entire, but even with closed eyelids, the rising light kept her awake, conspiring with the rest to fill her with a comfortable, safe, warmth.

But Katie had been comfortable, safe, and warm, and she knew full well she could be miserable there too. The heavy weight of Thatch's soft fingers, and the occasional touch of a careful vine, ensured it was impossible to feel alone. The creature was paying so much attention to her that it even knew how she was feeling.

“Not sleepy in there?” Thatch sang, voice so subtle as to slip into the tapestry of inputs that Katie floated through.

“Not sleepy in here,” Katie whispered. She wasn't. Totally awake. Maybe she could fall asleep, but there was so much going on to keep her attention that her mind could hardly quiet.

Thatch's hand left her head. Katie complained loudly enough that it returned.

“It is getting quite late.”

Katie nodded. She was right. She'd just been thinking that, hadn't she? “It's... quite late,” she agreed. Maybe she should be sleepy? It was hard to tell.

“We should get you ready for bed, soon.”

She should be sleepy. Yeah, that made sense. Katie nodded, absent mindedly, and tugged the soft blanket of leaves over herself. “Ready,” she sighed, cheek nestling into a comfortable bed of leaves.

Katie heard the familiar sound of Thatch's rumble for a few short moments, before the blanket was slowly pulled back. The evening air was cool and gentle, but a cycle or two of rolling heat was enough to get Katie used to it.

“You aren't ready for bed yet, are you?” Thatch asked. Katie wasn't, but... why wasn't she? She shook her head, mumbling something unintelligible under her breath.

“Because...?” Thatch prompted, but Katie wasn't sure what the affini wanted from her. She repeated the word, hoping it would bring a connection along with it, but she had nothing.

Even Thatch's sigh was melodious, starting at the peak of a cycle and lasting to its end, finishing with a low “Mmmmh.”

“You wouldn't want to forget your medication, would you?” she asked, drawing the connection Katie should have made for her. Oh, that. Katie shook her head. “Don't want to forget my medication,” she admitted, trying for a few moments to roll over, but finding her body strangely unwilling to respond. A soft hand helped her get her back against Thatch's stomach, where she would need to be to take her meds.

“All ready,” Katie said. Or had Thatch said that? No, it had been her. She'd said it. She must have, because as the next cycle reached its peak, Thatch's scent intensified a dozen times over. Katie moaned softly, trying to lean towards the source, only for a hand to stop her.

“Let's have a deep breath for me, hmn?” Thatch spoke, while the intensity of her heat and light and scent rose.

“Deep breath for you...” Katie agreed, as it fell.

Deep breath. Thatch stretched out her own rhythm here, light and heat and sound swelling more slowly, and holding at the peak, matching Katie's need to pause as a lungful of soft, tingling sweetness spread out to her chest. To her arms, slowly sliding down until even the tips of her fingers tingled. Down to her stomach, and then to her legs, her calves, her feet, her toes. All tingling, but gently. After all else was covered, the sensation moved up into her head, too, and the tingle was everywhere.

The heat and light fell quickly. Katie released her breath before she'd even noticed it was time. Before she had chance to consider that, everything was rising again, and like just one more player in an orchestra, Katie breathed in again, taking the intense tingling back into her lungs, and then... waiting.

Basking in the heat, filled with Thatch's light, hands heavy against her skin while the comforting sensation of her body being slowly fixed spread through her. Long seconds passed where there was nothing beyond the warmth but firm hands doing their best to satisfy Katie's need for touch.

Eventually, finally, Katie remembered to breathe— She was reminded by the dying light— No, she remembered. The tingles sank in, becoming simply a part of her now.

Her head fell slowly to the side, until it rested comfortably against something soft. The powerful scent had retreated, leaving only Thatch's usual intensity.

“Hmnn. Tired now?” her blanket asked.

Katie nodded. “Tired now,” she accepted, failing to stifle a yawn.

“That's quite alright. Time to sleep, then, hmn?” Thatch replied, on the downstroke of a cycle, and as the next began she kept her lighting stifled.

Katie got halfway through a response before drifting off into unconsciousness, hand finally letting go.

Rain fell in a shower of broken glass. Sol's dying light made it almost look like water twinkling in the air... but the slums of New London hadn't seen true rain in months. Instead, all that glass simply shattered itself against the ground as Rain slammed into it, crying out as they felt the lacerations cutting into their body. They lay there for a long moment, working up the strength to want to get back up.

With a groan, they pushed themselves back to their feet. They couldn't let this stop them. A glance back up to the first floor window out of which they'd just been thrown was enough to let them know they shouldn't stick around.

As they ran, they fished their most prized possession out of a pocket. Looked like their trusty communicator had taken another crack, but if they were without it for even a moment, the anxiety seemed too much to bear. With shaking fingers, they took two or three attempts to get their long password correctly inserted. It wasn't convenient to run up against the lockout limit so often, but a weak password would make them a more attractive target for thieves, and this was the only valuable thing they owned.

After taking a moment to check themselves over in the broken reflection of shattered plastic, they forced a grin onto their face and hit the big red button. “So, uh, that went wrong!” they declared. “Wow, I hope I got all the footage for that. Looks like that police officer couldn't handle a little pra— pran— oh, fuck me.”

Rain's run slowed to a stop. The slums around them towered high enough that they could barely see the sky, but that was enough to spot bright points of light flashing into existence above them. Ships. Massive ships. A moment of abject panic overcame them, as it would anybody watching a fleet jumping in overhead. Was this a declaration of war? Were they about to get bombed? Who the fuck would bomb New London? There was nothing here but trash.

They cringed as their beloved communicator emitted a high pitched squeal.

Hello! Please do not be alarmed, humanity! The ships above are here to help. You don't have to worry about a thing. The Affini Compact has arrived and none of you will ever go wanting again.

***

Avium Prunus, Third½ Bloom, appeared to have lost xer floret.

Avium had looked everywhere. The standard scale hab unit that they lived in was, while incredibly luxurious by Terran standards, not that large. The unit itself was a large hexagon with walls thick enough that even the most determined creature couldn't escape, subdivided into four smaller rooms with a limited number of hiding spots.

Avium paused in the center of the main living space. Xer floret wasn't under or behind the sofa, or the desk, or inside any of the storage containers, or—

The ceiling tiles!

Avium leaped, grabbing ahold of the structural support in the ceiling and pushing xer head up through the lightweight tiles that separated the habitable part of the... hab from the utility parts, where the little vines and pipes that made everything work lived. Xe slowly rotated, looking for... There!

Avium flinched back as something flashed in xer face. Xer cursed hellion of a floret scrambled away like some kind of cryptid.

“Gotcha! Two turnings, thirteen arcseconds, a new record! It's just a pra—”

Avium wrapped xer vines tightly around the floret and pulled it out. Avium groaned, fruitlessly attempting to brush off the dust and smooth out the frayed edges of the standard Affini companion dress that covered its body.

“Xe Prunus, you are a goblin,” xe sighed. “We have somewhere to be and you—”

“—are getting you back for that time you pretended to be the sofa!”

Avium paused. “Okay, fair point, but this is still very inconvenient, Xe! Was I this inconvenient? Don't make me take a gold star off of the good noodle board.”

Xe looked aghast, but nodded enthusiastically. Its cheeks were streaked with something that looked like oil, though where it could possibly have found oil in the middle of an Affini hab unit currently attached to a ship lost in deep space was an utter mystery. “You were, remember? We had friends over. Montsechia and I were sitting on you. For six hours. I learned some new swear words that day,” it declared.

Avium broke out into a cackle, bouncing up and down on xer feet, laughing for long seconds until xe finally managed to get back under control. “Right, I'd forgotten about that one. You're still a goblin—”

“Thank you, M Prunus,” it said, shuffling proudly.

“—but I'm adding a star to the board.”

Thank you, M Prunus!” it exclaimed, immediately clambering up its affini's side to hang against xer shoulder. The two of them moved over to one of the walls of the hab unit, which had been repurposed to hold a vast collection of stickers. Stars beyond counting, five little snakes, almost two dozen small spaceship icons, and one lifesize sticker of Xe itself. Avium covered Xe's eyes and used xer vines to tap out an intensely complicated password on a small container bolted to the wall. A single sticker was retrieved, and then the rest of the pack returned to the container, which was carefully sealed.

Xe was again allowed to see, so that it could enjoy the moment of attachment.

Little ritual completed, it scrambled back down to the ground. Avium took a moment to look up the exact time they were meant to be arriving at their appointment and nodded to xemselves. “We can still make it on time, but I'm going to need to dress you, or—”

Avium had turned around. Xer floret was spotless and impeccably arranged, standing up straight with its hands behind its back. It wasn't even wearing the same clothes, but instead a formal companion suit, complete with one of Avium's flowers tucked behind the ear. It looked perfect. Avium quickly checked xyr body and did, in fact, find a flower missing, cleanly sliced off.

“I would never make you late for an appointment, M,” it insisted. Avium opened xer mouth to rattle off the long list of appointments xey had definitely been made late for, but Xe continued. “At least, not one that mattered. I knew you'd get distracted if I didn't give you something to do.”

It grinned the same undecipherable grin it always did when it knew it had its owner in checkmate. Xe could neither be punished nor rewarded and it knew it. It proudly lifted its chin, exposing the ring of its collar, around which Avium reluctantly wrapped a vine.

***

It had been a month since the occupation had begun. Rain snuck along the rusted, disused fire escape of one of the few buildings in the city old enough to have been built back before safety codes had been abolished. Far below, one of the weeds walked through the city.

Walked through Rain's city.

Not that they could recognise it any more. With most of the physical trash moved away, there were only remnants now, like Rain and a handful of others that refused to surrender to an enemy empire. In their braver moments, Rain liked to think of themselves as a rebel, but... well, that was hardly realistic, was it? The Free Terranist Rebellion fought in glorious starships, going railgun-to-railgun with an invading force. Rain bet they didn't go hungry every day.

Rain did have one thing that they didn't, though. A camera right in the middle of the occupied city of New London. They were sort of a journalist now, they thought, but there was nowhere left to report the news. After the gigacorps had gotten disbanded, life had somehow gotten even worse for Rain. Their TubeTube prank show had been popular for years, and they usually pulled in enough advertising money to buy food every other day or two.

Well, nobody was selling ads now, were they? Their only income source having dried up, Rain was left scavenging what little they could find, except with the added difficulty of having to figure out which abandoned foodstuff came drugged.

But they still had a camera, and they'd been good at what they'd done.

They carefully placed their communicator up at a good height and climbed down, scurrying the last few feet so they could catch up to the plant.

“Sir, sir! I'm a human being that's helpless on their own and needs your help! What's your name?”

The affini turned with a frown. “I am Avium Prunus, Third Bloom, little human. What assistance do you need?”

By Mickey, they were terrifying. Two or three meters tall with teeth that looked like they could bite straight through a human arm. The thing was, though, that the rebellion was out there, fighting these things so that humanity could have a future that wasn't under these things's thumb. The least Rain could do was keep them entertained.

*“I need to befriend a squirrel, but I can't figure out how, can you help?” they asked. *

The weed seemed perplexed. “I'm... sorry? What is a squirrel?”

Shit, of course it didn't know what a squirrel was. “They're, uh, like, four legs, pointy ears, sharp teeth? Usually looking around in the trash for food, which... I guess they're not really doing that right now.”

The affini shrugged, reaching out with a vine to touch Rain. They quickly shied away. Hell no. They weren't brave enough for this. They turned and ran, screaming “I guess I need to act like a nut!” as they did.

Hours later, when they finally went back to retrieve the footage, they saw that the plant had looked bemused for a few moments, and then left. Hardly the reaction they'd been hoping for, but they had a name now. Could they track this thing down again? Maybe figure out some supply lines, get that information to the rebellion?

***

It had an office. Rain had their camera mounted to the opposite side of the street, and this time they had a script that was sure to work. They walked into the building with as brave a strut as they could.

“Hello, I want to speak to the manager.”

The affini paused, frowning. “Don't I know you?”

Rain shook their head. “I have one of those faces. Your manager, please! I want to make a complaint.”

A rippling of leaves almost had Rain running, but thankfully the thing stayed sitting. “We... don't really do managers, but if you'd like to speak to the local hyperspacial engineering leader then I could call them over. Can I ask what you're wanting to complain about?”

Rain grinned. “You're like, an architect or something, right? I think your designs are really rude. Do you know what your triangle said to my circle friend?”

Avium looked baffled. “I'm sorry, I don't understand what you're talking about. Could you—”

Rain grinned wider. “It said it was pointless!” They dashed over to the desk, spent a moment trying to flip it, and after that failed simply scattered the papers on it over the floor and ran away.

Two days later when they finally returned for the footage, they saw that the plant had stood there in continued confusion for another few seconds... before bursting out laughing. Fuck. The footage should still be good if they edited it.

***

An arcminute ahead of schedule, the two rode an Elettarium light magrail compartment into the depths of the botanical gardens. To Xe, the grandeur of Affini architecture seemed like something that could never get old.

The rail system ran straight through what could have been a rainforest, or what Xe imagined a rainforest would be like. It wasn't like the Terran Accord had anything better than history books to inform it. The 'rail' itself ran a stemlength or two underneath the dirt, magnetically guiding a comfortable pod just above the ground, safely out of the way of any minor plantlife. The pod itself was mostly transparent, presumably designed to show off the absurd complexities of Affini design.

Xe's nose was glued to the glass, watching trees a hundred feet tall and plants in endless variety move past as a blur. It looked up with a gasp. Spiralling endlessly into the air were great lattice structures, providing support for plantlife towering above it. Vines that must have been two hundred feet long crawled up the jet-black structures. If Xe looked beyond them, then it looked into the depths of space, as the entire botanical gardens section hung beneath a transparent section of hull that must have been a kilometer wide.

At this particular moment, Xe could spot the other habitable arc of the Elettarium. The ship's design was somewhat excessive. The Affini, like the Terran Accord, used rapidly rotating sections to provide centripetal force sufficient to simulate gravity. In principle, the designs weren't usually that dissimilar, simply placing the habitable decks in a position where they could constantly rotate around a central pillar, the Affini simply did it bigger. So much so that the time it took one of the habitable decks to rotate a single arcminute around its pivot was a useful measure of timekeeping.

The Stellar Gardener that had grown the Elettarium had been unwilling to do something so straightforward, not for a sleek, modern scouting ship. Between the rear end of the ship, which mixed the engines with vast, rotating multi-kilometer petals that extended outwards hundreds of meters into space, and the front compartment of the ship, where cargo storage, life support, and most microgravity facilities lived, were two habitable arcs which rotated independently.

If one were to ask the Gardener to justify these design decisions, they likely would have explained that the two arcs meant that the ship could sustain two different levels of artificial gravity, as well as reorient the entire structure to operate in natural gravity wells without causing significant inconvenience. They would have explained that the petals provided inertial counterspin, allowing the arcs to adjust their own rotation without requiring the ship's navigational thrusters to operate.

That was why Xe didn't ask the Affini to justify their actions. It knew the truth. They did it because it was grand. The Elettarium wasn't a vehicle, it was a home. It wasn't a purpose-built utility, it was a work of art that happened to soar through the void.

Of course, a ship so large needed its inhabitants to be able to get around. Hence, the light magnetic rail network. Xe's favourite part was that if you got the time of day right, moving through the right part of an arc in the right direction, the pod moved so fast that the arc's rotation was temporarily negated.

It kicked off of the floor and span in mid-air. It had rarely experienced microgravity, being more of slum trash in the old pre-domestication days, and from then living aboard these grand starships that were more luxurious than all but the most excessive human habitation had ever been.

Avium watched xyr pet slowly rotating until air resistance brought them to a halt in the middle of the pod. Xe paused, flailing in mid air, before realising it couldn't reach the sides.

“I'm flying!” it exclaimed, with a grin. “Better catch me before I fly away!”

Avium rolled xyr eyes. “Best behaviour, huh, pet?”

It stuck out its tongue. “We aren't there yet, dork. Wanna practice anything you're gonna say? I couldn't read your bit of the invite, I just figured it was important if it was straight from the captain.”

The pod turned slightly. Xe started slowly moving towards one side. It looked to its caretaker for care and received nothing but a rough approximation of a tongue stuck out in riposte. It deserved that. Worse, after a few moments air resistance had it static again, still out of reach of anything useful.

“Nah, this is an ideas session about our runaways. All the major board leaders got invited. Heard any good ideas suggested on the outernet?” Avium never seemed impressed by the literal wonders they passed by, though xe usually did get more enthusiastic than this over impressing Xe with the more subtle flexes present in the design. Xe—the affini—must be stressed.

Xe—the human—shook its head. “Networking says we're way out of range of any of the relays, so we're on like a three week delay for updates. Local net is excited, though, and uh—”

It fished around in its pants, blushing. “Dirt, I forgot my pad, can I borrow yours?”

Avium grinned, fishing a thin transparent slate out between their leaves. They balanced it on the edge of a finger, and then very gently tapped it. It took a few seconds to reach Xe, and imparted almost no momentum when it grabbed hold, nor did it have any opportunity to grab onto anything else.

“And you call me a brat,” it grumbled, tapping a quick code into the pad as it logged into its fan community. “I set up a little channel for folks to talk about it, but you know what our audience is like.” It spent a few moments scrolling through threads, shaking its head.

“Yeah these are all awful ideas. Going planet to planet looking; waiting for them to somehow signal us; some conspiracy theory about humans not being real—” It looked particularly amused by that one— “and, oh, hmn. Somebody looked at the footage frame by frame, take a look at this!”

Xe moved to chuck the pad back, but thought better of it, grinned, and flung it straight up. Datapads were far too tough for a mere human to scratch or chip them, but Avium caught it regardless, and thanks to Newton's third law, Xe finally managed to make it to somewhere they could grab onto a handhold.

Avium glanced over the screenshots with interest, absent mindedly extending a vine so that Xe could climb back over. “Oh yeah, you're getting a gold star when we get back home,” xe declared. Xe grinned.

“Thank you, M!”

The pod slowed to a halt over several long seconds. The systems could automatically detect who was on board, to make sure that the acceleration and deceleration profiles were safe for all, but they were smart enough to recognise when a human was accompanied by somebody willing to provide a harness, so the pod slid to a stop at a rapid pace, pressing Xe into Avium's body.

***

Avium's sense of humour was strangely sharp, for a plant. Rain groaned, checking over yet another reel of footage. Useless. Even with editing, they wouldn't be able to hide that the fucking plant had caught on halfway through, even with the disguise.

Without that footage, they had nothing to send up to the rebellion. Humanity was losing. Rain knew it wasn't their fault, but they couldn't help but feel like if the rebels were in better spirits, they'd fight harder. They were distracted from their misery by a complaining stomach.

Time to scavenge again. It was getting harder every day. More surveillance, more patrols, less food that was safe to eat. They carefully left their nest, only to trip over a little box that definitely hadn't been there the night before.

Cautious, but curious, they lifted the lid, and gasped as a rolling wave of scent hit their nose. Hot food. They had it in their mouth before they'd considered where it might have come from. They just didn't care. If it drugged them and they had to spend the day coming down from something then fine.

Every bite was more delicious than the last, but it didn't seem to make it any harder to think. At least, not until the end, where Rain noticed a little note tucked within the packaging.

Gotcha :;)
– Avium Prunus, Third Bloom
p.s., I found your channel! You have a new subscriber ;)

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

***

“Oh hey, Rain,” Avium said, with a wave, as they entered the creature's office. “I was doing some research and I think I've found out what a squirrel is.”

Rain groaned. They'd spent hours on this disguise. They looked nothing like themselves. “C'mon, man, can't you give me a few minutes of footage first?”

The plant waved its hand dismissively. “I would, but this is actually really cool. See, about two hundred years ago the etymology got swapped around, one of those times a coronal mass ejection wiped all your data storage. Turns out that squirrels used to be much smaller and fluffier. But, you might ask, what did modern squirrels used to be called? Here's the really cool bit: Ask me about updogs.”

Rain fought the urge to just sit down and give up. “I don't... What's an updog?”

Avium's grin grew three sizes. It would have been scary, if Rain hadn't pranked the fucking thing two dozen times by now. “Not much, you?” The creature raised and lowered its eyebrows a few times.

Rain left.

***

They stepped out into the conference center right in the middle of the botanical gardens. The air was heavy with moisture and scents. Xe stumbled as it took its first breath, feeling lightning sparks over its mind. Half the plants here were curated specifically for their potent psychological effects, the other half because they were useful, and all because they were beautiful. Just smelling it was enough to knock the rational thought out of a Terran.

“C'mon, with me,” Avium insisted, pulling it close in to its side. “Best behaviour, remember? No pranks. Be a good noodle for me and we'll get them later.”

The conference center was, really, more of a clearing in the gardens. As with any gathering of more than two sapients in the Affini Compact, every attendee was doing their own thing. There were affini here alone, sitting on chairs; an affini/floret pinnate set lounging on a pair of beanbags; the two monochrome clerks paying no attention to anything but each other; the captain sitting with her back straight looking every part in charge, with her faithful pet nowhere to be seen.

Avium frowned, and—

“Agh!” Xe jumped, as a human stepped alongside them and called out across the table.

“The representative for the board of Hyperspacial Engineering, Avium Prunus, with xyr floret, Xe Prunus,” they called, with a voice that seemed much too loud for such a small thing. The captain's pet intimidated even Avium sometimes. A few failed attempts to ruffle her hair later, xe was gently thrown towards xyr designated seating area, floret in tow.

Xyr preferred seating arrangement was waiting for them—which was to say, no seating at all. Avium planted roots where xe landed and kept Xe on xer knee. No sooner had xe and Xe gotten cozy than the captain had begun to speak.

“You all know why you're here, but just in case you didn't check local news yesterday, I'll recap. We happened across the cute little Terran ship Undefeatable, or some other adorable name, and rescued most of the poor things aboard.”

Avium grinned. The captain and xem went way back; long before she'd gotten elected captain. She was really blooming in the role. It couldn't have been more than a few years since she'd been the unassuming actress who could take on any role, and maybe nothing at all had changed in that respect—but polling suggested she was certain to win the next election too, so apparently everyone agreed she was making life aboard ship better.

“You heard right—most. This ship had an undocumented lockdown system around the engine, so one of the humans stayed conscious and decided to scuttle the ship. One of ours was there with them and so while we don't have any evidence that they're alive, we're going to treat them as so until we can prove otherwise.”

Avium raised a hand. The other softly petted their increasingly unaware floret's head, part of its reward for being useful. “I think they got out just fine, Rosa,” xe declared, using a vine to tap their pad a few times to broadcast the display up to one of the big holoprojectors. Dirt and roots, was it a shame that humans struggled to stay awake in the gardens. Avium tried to draw Xe's attention up above them anyway, to point out the series of screenshots now projected against the vast ceiling above them. In a series of images rendered a kilometer wide, the last few frames of pre-claudication footage had been cleaned up, stablised, and annotated.

“Interesting,” someone spoke from immediately beside Avium's ear. Xe swore loudly, overbalancing and nearly falling over. A quiet roll of laughter spread through the area. The captain's stars-damned pet again. The fraction of a second of amused grin suggested this was still payback for that one little prank. “Can I—” She reached over to tap the pad, zooming in on the image of an escape pod leaving the broken battlecruiser, trailing vines and fire.

She tapped again, marking a few points. “This style of escape pod has been in use in the Terran Accord for about fifty years. It wouldn't have gotten them far, but—”

She tapped again, zooming in on tattered vines and leaves, clearly halfway burned away. A murmur rose over the table.

A particularly colourful Affini specimen piped up. “If that human actually managed to kill poor—” They checked their notes. “—Thatch then I'm afraid I'm not confident they'll still be alive!” Their quadrupedal form matched their floret. Rheum Rhab, the current culinary lead.

Felicia Hautere—the captain's floret—laughed and shook her head. “Takes more than that to kill one of you fuckers, they'll be fine. Probably won't even need to Rebloom. Mistress didn't.”

The captain spoke up. “Yes, thank you, pet, I'd almost forgotten that incident.” The motion of a single finger had the floret skipping over to the captain's side, where she was brought down to her knees. Rosaceae had long since forgotten how to speak more quietly than a stage whisper, but nobody minded. “You know what we've said about swearing, precious,” she said, drawing an apologetic blush out of her floret. Felicia knew how to whisper, but anyone could read the regret in the way she buried her head in the captain's side and clung to her leg.

This was simply how meetings in the Affini Compact were done. Fifty to eighty percent of the total runtime was taken up with cute florets, because what would be the point of life otherwise?

Eventually, the captain seemed satisfied with her soothing, and looked back up. “As my dear pet was saying, we can take this as confirmation the two are alive and well. Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Avium! Now, does anybody have any ideas for finding our missing pair?”

***

“What would you have done, if you hadn't come here?” Rain asked. Avium had taken to stopping by their nest a few times a week to bring food and, at this point, script out their next video. They were surprisingly excellent at understanding Rain's sense of humour, despite the cultural differences.

Avium shrugged. “I'm honestly not sure. Hyperspacial engineering is pretty cool, but I'm kind of bored. That's why I haven't handed you over to the death squads yet.”

“There's no such thing as death squads, Ave.” Rain rolled their eyes. “You lot even saved all the squirrels. Dorks. For Donald's sake, what am I doing here? I have better viewership among you fucking weeds than I do the resistance, now.”

“They don't understand good humour,” the affini insisted, handing over another snack and a can of gamer fuel. They both held old-style video game controllers, some antique Avium had managed to get their leaves on, with some split-screen racing game. “Wanna go again?”

Rain grinned. “I'll get you this time.”

***

Rain wrinkled their nose, poking at the colourful clothing of the companion dress with an outstretched finger. It was certainly a very smooth fabric, but the colours were beyond garish.

“I'm honestly unsure I can film this without the automatic colour grading going to shit. And it's... pretty gendered, isn't it?” Rain pinched the material together and lifted the bottom of the dress.

Avium glanced over, looking away from their own section of the store. It still blew Rain's mind that all of this was free, but apparently when the Affini said they'd outlawed money and trade they meant it. There wasn't even an attendant at this time of day, this whole thing just operated on... the honour system.

Neither Avium nor Rain were very honourable, as it happened. They had costumes to put together.

Avium shrugged. “Gender is a social construct, dear.”

Rain rolled their eyes. “Which is why you still go by he/him even though you always look sad when you say it, huh?” Did this plant think that they didn't have dozens of hours of footage? That they hadn't spend days staring at Avium's expression as they edited? They knew every inch of that dumb plant's face by now.

“I— I'm just used to it, is all. It doesn't bother me. Though... I think this skirt would look good on me.”

“Maybe with the suit top? Mad energy, babe.”

***

Xe and Avium got back to their hab unit hours later, collapsing onto the main space's sofa in tight and practiced synchronization. With a shared whimper, they managed to pull themselves up vaguely into a sitting position.

“That was a lot,” Xe declared.

“You slept through most of it, dummy.” Avium's hand flopped over to gently squeeze xyr floret's.

“I mean, yeah, but you know what it's like. It's a meeting, they're always exhausting, even if you're sleeping through them.”

Avium couldn't argue with that. Xe murmured xyr agreement. There was a huge difference between hanging out with a bunch of friends in a social engagement and trying to actually stay on topic in a meeting about something important, and as far as xe was concerned today was over with.

“Hey, you wanna play video games until irresponsibly late in the evening?”

“Yeah.”

***

Rain glanced over the script one last time. Their biggest prank yet. Finally, they were going to get footage of Avium truly, utterly surprised. They were filming a historical piece today, with Avium playing the role of a human shop attendant, back when such things had existed, and Rain being the hapless customer... but little did Avium know that it wouldn't be going quite how they expected.

The scene called for the attendant to be written up by their manager, and at the end they had to sign on the dotted line and receive their punishment. It wasn't really a funny piece, but they'd been branching out lately and stretching their creative muscles. Rain felt the call of the prank louder every day, but they'd intentionally pushed for deeper pieces, with more research and fewer jokes. It was less Avium's thing, but xe was willing to go along with it if it made Rain happy.

That little scrap of kindness was going to be punished ten times over by the end of the shoot.

The time finally came and Rain could barely breathe, they were so nervous, but it all went perfectly, and Avium's signature went exactly where it should have.

All the lights in the studio came blaring on, and Rain ran out carrying an old school camcorder, pointing it at Avium's surprised face.

“Gotcha! You thought I'd never get you with a prank, didn't you? Well, look who's silly now, Ave! I win!”

Rain twirled the camera back towards themselves to give the lens a victory sign. “This goes out to my homies in the rebellion, looking for proof the Affini can lose! Get fuuuuuuuuuucked, Affini Compact!” At this point, ending the videos with a speech like that was in kind of bad taste, given that it was only the Affini who were watching, but it was tradition.

Avium looked rather concerned. “Rain, what's going on?”

The human grinned, turning the camera back. “I don't know who you're talking to, plant, but you'd better check that paper you just signed!”

Avium's head slowly turned to the contract. It wasn't their prop, but Rain had spent a long while making sure the sentence and word lengths matched up, so xey wouldn't bother to reread it. As soon as they did, however, they'd quickly find a very realistic and only slightly incorrect adoption contract that was sure to get a reaction. Thankfully, Rain had made sure the exact wording didn't quite match the real thing, so Avium would quickly realise it was a joke and not feel pressured into anything.

“Oh, dirt, you didn't?” Avium laughed, finally reading the actual words for the first time. “I... You got me, Ra...”

Avium blinked. Rain had written the contract themselves, but it was modeled off of the Affini domestication contracts. Not official or anything, and Avium wasn't interested in them like that, but good for a laugh, right? It didn't even use Rain's real name, though it had their real signature.

“Oh, oh, I see. Well, 'Xe Prunus', you got me. I'm gonna go file this.”

Xe blinked, head snapping around. “Wait what.”

Leviathan's cage sank beneath the depths. Waves crashed over its surface, throwing up violent sprays of foam and mist. The structure vibrated under the pressure, but the support columns speared deep into the ground, forming immobile rails on which the rest of the containment unit could hang, fixed in place against all but the strongest forces.

Katie wrinkled her nose as the woven cord she was holding onto hitched. The descent of her new pet's tank had been impressively smooth given the materials she'd had to work with, but rope spun from plantlife wasn't quite as smooth as she might have liked. To aid with raising and lowering the tank, she and Thatch had built a pulley system, using a smoothed out stick as an axle around which sat a makeshift disc, on which the rope was mounted.

Katie carefully massaged it, trying to remove the lump that had caught in the assembly without damaging anything. If she let the tank drop from this height, the poor fish was bound to get one heck of a shock. Thankfully, a few moments of care and attention got things straightened out, and Katie lowered the tank the rest of the way, down to the bottom of the rails.

Finally, she knelt down to tie the rope to a loop of wood they'd sanded down with one of Thatch's more abrasive anatomical features. She pulled it tight and stood. It had taken a day or so of careful effort to bring this to life, overall.

Katie glanced down at scraps of abandoned wood. A collection of failed attempts at creating some parts of the construct, and leftover waste, lay strewn around the area. Katie was struck by a sudden sense of uncertainty. She'd never gotten this far in a project before. What happened to the leftovers?

She glanced over to the other side of the makeshift camp, to where Thatch was busying herself with a growing pile of stones and rocks. Her thorns were sharp and hard enough that, at least with the softer rocks around here, she could chisel them into whatever shape she wanted.

Thatch's existence had uncomfortable undertones. Perhaps not the plant herself, Katie supposed, but it was difficult to separate her from her context.

Human domestication.

Like humanity had done for millennia with animals on its homeworld. Psychological manipulation on industrial scales, creating whole species that put humanity's needs first, abandoning their own hopes and dreams in favour of an existence where anything short of immediate, flawless obedience was cause for the pain of a shock collar or cattle prod. Humanity had exploited humanity as much as it could bear; what trauma had the arguably much crueler human-led domestication projects inflicted on the world around them?

Katie shivered, imagining herself in their place. Imagining Thatch holding a sharp stick, zapping her until she was no longer herself with a cruel, domineering smirk on her face as she declared that this was all for Katie's own good. She would be happy, once they'd burned every other emotion out of her skull.

The girl shook her head, noticing that Thatch was staring. Her expression was far from cruel; nothing more than a gently bemused expression of concern. Her face was capable of lying, but the rest of her was much less so. Bright red vines had carefully anchored themselves to stable things, the vines in Thatch's legs were densely packed, almost quivering with energy. The affini must have been thirty meters away and yet Katie knew that if anything were to go wrong, she would be protected in an instant.

Her imaginations fell silent. The greater Affini could be as cruel as they liked; this one was clearly incapable. Katie smiled across at her, waving a hand to say that she was okay, and not in need of assistance.

“I'm okay! I think I'm done,” she called, raising to her feet. She got a moment's notice as the edge of the bank crumbled under her weight before she was tipping backwards, very suddenly in freefall, heading for the cataclysmic rapids beneath. She didn't have time to cry out. The sudden drop stole the air from her lungs. The collapsing ground left her with nothing to push against, no way to adjust her fall.

Katie grabbed for the wooden construction of the tank, but it was out of reach, and—

“Gotcha,” Thatch proclaimed, mottled hand tightly gripping Katie's wrist. The girl was carefully pulled up without another word, then set back down on the ground. Katie fended off a curious pair of vines that seemed to want to brush her down, She noted that her hands were shaking. So was her vision, and her breath. Her adrenaline spike had come too late to do anything to help. It would leave long after it had outstayed its welcome.

Katie fended off another vine, then a pair of vines, and then a set of four, then five. She had just long enough to realise that the last didn't match the pattern before the three she hadn't noticed came up behind her to lightly wrap around her wrists, steadying them, and her torso, so she could be pulled away from the side and into a gentle embrace.

“Are you okay, Katie? I'm sorry, I should have been paying more attention. We can reinforce the ground there, perhaps build a fence?”

No, Katie couldn't bring herself to be afraid of this dork even if she tried. It almost reminded her of the soft emotional blanket of Thatch's concoction, stealing away rational fears, except the only mind-affecting process Thatch had put her under was education.

Katie nodded, permitting herself a brief moment wrapped in the slow beat of Thatch's body. She could feel her adrenaline draining away, her panic sinking into Thatch's gentle 'heartbeat'. After a few moments, she pulled away. As always, Thatch yielded just an instant later. Long enough that it was clear that Katie couldn't have overpowered her, but short enough that it could hardly even be implied she wasn't respecting Katie's agency.

“No, no, I'm fine, thank you. I should have been more careful. I wouldn't usually even go near a bank like that, but... I dunno, I guess I got a little too complacent,” Katie said, feeling the embarrassed blush crawling up her cheeks. Katie moved back towards the bank, carefully. She couldn't avoid noticing the way that a pair of bright red vines was tailing her. She paused and gave them a glare, and Thatch replaced them with a much harder to spot set of black ones. It would have to do.

Katie began gathering up the spare wood. “How's your project coming, anyway?”

Thatch gestured over to her pile of carved stone. It stood about as tall as Katie did, with a pair of openings near the bottom where slabs of stone could be removed to allow access. A furnace. A real tool. Katie lifted up an armful of wooden scraps as tribute, and they were very quickly ferried over to the lower compartment, where they joined a whole collection of other fuel.

“It is nice to finish a project for once,” Thatch admitted. “There is something satisfying about the tactility of taking something rough and moulding it to your needs. I believe that we could attempt to purify the metals you so kindly acquired for us, and all I am in need of is a flame.”

She looked pointedly towards Katie at the last word.

Katie started looking around for a long stick she could use to carry a little of the heat from their campfire over to the new kiln. “Still uneasy around fire?” she asked, picking up a long twig that had a small collection of leaves nestled at the tip. She dipped it beneath their cookpot and started very carefully carrying the resulting fire.

“I believe that it may be one of the few primal fears my people still struggle with. The paperwork for disengaging local fire suppression even within a single habitation unit is excessive even by our standards, and requires significant qualification.”

Katie nodded, somewhat absent minded. Her attention was mostly on the brightly glowing flame in her hands, as it should be. “Mmmh. Don't want fire on a spaceship,” she agreed, carefully placing the stick into the fuel compartment in Thatch's oven. It was too long to fit entirely, so she tapped a spot about halfway up with one of her knuckles and Thatch broke it clean in two from that spot. Katie prodded the half that was on fire deeper, using the half she still had a hold of, and then chucked that in too for good measure.

The flames caught, and Katie rushed to seal the compartment with its slab of heavy rock. Before long, a small plume of smoke began rising out of the top of the structure. Katie wrinkled her nose.

“I hope this doesn't upset anything.” She gestured up to the emissions. This was hardly the same thing as the great Terran forges that had once spewed noxious waste in vast quantity out into the atmosphere of every world under human rule, but it was an inauspicious start to the industrialisation of... whatever this planet was called.

“You're thousands of years more advanced than us,” Katie admitted, glancing over at Thatch. “Did you ever figure out how to... not do this? We're destroying a little bit of this planet so that we can get what we need. I guess if we need to do it to survive, then... Ugh. If humanity is worth anything, surely it's as a warning against the dangers of taking without giving back.”

The plant had been smiling the whole way through. Her face was carefully polite, but the quiver in her delicate weave painted another story. Katie set her jaw, staring the creature down in a battle of wills.

Gosh, Thatch's sparkling blue eyes were pretty. They were distinctly inhuman, certainly nothing like an eyeball, but just as expressive, if not more. A part of Katie wanted to lever Thatch's head open to see how they worked, but wouldn't that be rude? Much better to appreciate them from the outside.

Much better to enjoy the way the glow seemed to twinkle and attenuate over time, like the gentle dance of starlight. Fascinatingly, as Katie looked closer, she realised that they were flecked with the natural shades of this planet too, everything moving in what seemed to be tight orchestration.

Katie realised she had lost the battle of wills.

“Once,” she declared, firmly. The sound was barely beyond her lips before Thatch's warm hand was in her hair, giving her scalp a gentle squeeze.

The creature emitted a low tone for a moment, then nodded. “I do feel guilty about poisoning the atmosphere here,” she admitted. Her hand moved in gentle patterns, drawing out a soft sigh from somewhere deep within Katie's body. “However, it is well understood among my people that it is sometimes more harmful to do no harm at all. That is not at all a refutation of your point, however, and we shall make a steward out of you yet. The materials sourced were...”

Katie only realised that she'd spaced out once Thatch finally paused in her explanation of all the ways in which she was mitigating the damage done. With the affini's fingers in her hair, distinctly stretching any reasonable definition of “once”, and her voice on Katie's ears, it was difficult to entertain abstract fears of environmental damage, or, indeed, any fears at all.

”...I promise that before we leave this place, we shall set this right and leave this world better for our presence.”

The hand was retrieved, leaving Katie momentarily unsteady on her feet, with a low tingle left behind that demanded attention. Katie scratched it. It didn't really help.

“I— Mmh.” She nodded. “Yes, environment good.” Katie coughed, trying to bury her burning cheeks by being useful. “Uh... Where did we put the ores? We should...” Katie pointed at the kiln. “They need cooking?”

A rustle of leaves up near her ear drew Katie's attention upwards, to Thatch. She spotted the plant's outstretched hand, pointing over to a small pile at the outside edge of their makeshift camp. Katie hurried over to it, only not running due to the fear she'd trip and end up in Thatch's arms again.

“They should be fine if you simply throw them in, I've decorated the upper compartment with channels to catch the liquified metal,” Thatch explained. It was already getting too hot to spend much time inspecting the insides, but Katie could spot how the slightly bowl-shaped interior had been carved in a delicate floral print, where every line led down into a little hole that presumably led to the matching one on the outside, where it could collect in a small stone dish etched with another pattern that should allow the metal to solidify in long strips. Thatch seemed to put a surprising degree of artistry into everything she did, even here.

Katie chucked in the chunks and sealed the top compartment. Thatch visibly relaxed as Katie finally walked away. “Okay!” Katie exclaimed. “Today feels more like progress. What's next?”

Thatch raised a simulated eyebrow. “I believe that is your decision, Katie. What's next most important on our list?” After a moment in which Katie didn't manage to come to a decision, the affini continued. “We could improve our camp and get you a dedicated area to sleep. I am a little worried about you getting wet should it rain, so a covering could be advantageous too. If a busy morning has you all tuckered out, however, then perhaps we could progress to our discussion on faster-than-light communications?”

“Oh, that last one sounds interesting,” Katie decided. “Let's do that. I've been doing woodwork all morning and I don't think my arms are up to anything hard. Besides, the weather has been good to us so far.”

They didn't have a very complicated classroom to work with, but Thatch had dredged up some rocks and covered them in leaves to function as seats so they could sit and bask in the glow of the fire. Katie pushed one rock a little closer so she could actually feel the warmth and sat down, while Thatch picked a large, flat stone from a pile she'd apparently prepared earlier and extended a thorn, making an experimental engraving at one corner. A writing surface of sorts.

“What do you know about sending messages through subspace already, Katie?”

“Uh, hmn, jeez. It's meant to be really hard, I think? Jumping a ship is one thing; so long as you use enough fuel it doesn't really matter if the hole is too big, but sending just a signal is harder? I think we've done it in labs, feeding tiny amounts of exotic matter into something constantly to try to hold the hole open without losing control and then transmitting through?” Katie shrugged, carefully watching Thatch's response to see how close she was. This wasn't technology that the Terran Accord had had a chance to develop further before anything that wasn't a weapons project had gotten shut down, as the war had become more desperate.

The affini nodded her way through Katie's explanation, and then immediately shook her head afterwards. “It's a wonder that humanity lasted long enough for us to find them,” she muttered. “No, that won't lead anywhere good for anybody, it would have been very impolite to do it that way. We'll do it right, mmh?”

Katie frowned, feeling a pang of embarrassment. A moment later, it was joined by a second layer of meta-embarrassment, directed towards the first. She knew that what she'd been taught, and what she'd picked up, was comparatively backwards. She was talking to a scientist from a precursor race here. Why would she be embarrassed by how little she knew?

Katie sighed. “Hang on,” she interjected. “I think I need to set some ground rules here.”

The affini paused, tilting her head with a questioning hum.

“This is my area; this is what I do. Did. Used to do. It's... for a long time, knowing how this stuff worked and being good at it was basically what my self-esteem was built on. It was all I had. I don't... Please don't tear that down?” It felt uncomfortable to ask. It was an acknowledgment that Thatch could. Five minutes in a room with a crueler plant, a cattle prod, and a physics textbook could probably shatter Katie's sense of self.

Thatch took her time coming to a response. She wasn't frozen up; if anything, she was very expressive. Her eyes flicked over Katie's body, as if taking her in from a fresh perspective. After a few moments, she glanced down at the tablet on her knee and began chiseling away.

“I apologise, I should have considered that your experience in the Terran Accord would be traumatic here. I can assure you that your value to me or to any citizen of the Affini Compact is not predicated on your skills.”

Katie sighed. Of course it wasn't. Why did that feel bad? “Yes, yes, yes,” she snapped. “Useless humans don't have to do anything but what they're told, right? You'll take care of us and all we have to do is give up our potential.”

Thatch winced, her writing thorn slipping and leaving a deep line in the tablet. She looked up at Katie with a pained expression. “Flower, no. Not at all. Do you know what the requirements for an individual habitation unit and basic needs, like food, water, and education are, for any citizen of the Affini Compact, be they affini, human, or you?”

Katie shook her head. “You know I don't.”

Thatch raised her arms in a big shrug. “Me neither!” she exclaimed. “When we get back to the Elettarium—once we clear up the minor matter of your prior feralist ideology—all you would need to do was ask to be assigned a living space and somebody would walk you through the requisite forms, or you could request a human-specification datapad and make the request via the machines. Every decision would be yours, if you wanted it to be. Please do not mistake my attitude towards your former people's reckless use of a common resource for a judgment upon your value.”

Katie stared into the flames casually burning away beside them, keeping their food at a simmer. Why was this so hard? She squeezed shut, and released, a fist several times before she could no longer bite her tongue.

“Why not?” she asked, raising her voice. “You keep saying that we were doing stupid and harmful things. Why shouldn't we be judged for that? If you won't, then who will? Where do I have to go to get somebody to tell me that what humanity did was wrong? Not 'doing their best', not 'adorably incompetent', but wrong!”

Katie stood up, feeling the need to pace around the area.

“Fucking... judge me, Thatch! You act so high and mighty, like you know so much better, but you stop just short of the obvious implication that I'm so much worse, that I—”

Her pacing had led her straight into Thatch's outstretched arms. She felt them wrap around her and didn't fight it. Thatch was so much taller than her that even while the affini was sitting and Katie standing, her head still rested on the plant's chest.

Katie continued, voice just as energetic, though far more muffled, speaking against foliage. “That I—we—were so much worse. Stop acting like humanity wasn't awful, please? The slums weren't cute. The forge worlds weren't us doing our best. The way they... treated me wasn't okay.”

Katie's voice fell quiet. “Please tell me you don't think it was okay?”

Katie could feel the tears leaving her eyes, but Thatch's body leeched them away before they got anywhere. She still ended up sniffling, with blurry vision. Thatch's grip grew stronger. Not so hard it hurt, but so hard that Katie couldn't hope to move.

“Very well.” Thatch's voice was hard and low, and Katie had to unclench her jaw to avoid it rattling her teeth. “Yes. You are correct. It is one of the unspoken truths of what we do that we must learn how to forgive the individuals while condemning the whole. The Terran Accord was wrong, and we put a stop to it for a reason. The slums were unforgivable; we have torn them down. The devastation caused in the name of forging useless items nobody needed is not something the Affini Compact is letting slide. The careless misuse of spacetime is an error that we are correcting. Pitting you all against one another in pointless, wasteful contest was a travesty that we have ended.”

Thatch's grip grew fractionally tighter. “The way you were treated was not acceptable and it will not be accepted. But.”

Katie stiffened, raising her head the few degrees that she could in the tight embrace. “But?”

“Who would you have us punish, Katie? Can you name the humans who do not deserve a second chance, now removed from their, as you put it, 'traps of circumstance'? Should you be tried for crimes against the universe because you did not know the damage you were doing?” One of Thatch's hands raised up to gently stroke through Katie's hair. A pair of vines slowly moved down her sides, while others gently curled around Katie's body and limbs, intensifying the embrace.

“I... maybe!” she exclaimed, nodding her head. “Do you know how many corners I knowingly cut? Do you know how often I met people I could have helped and didn't?” Katie fell silent for a moment. “I may not have known all the consequences, but I knew what I was doing. Please tell me that you aren't okay with that?”

Thatch emitted a gentle rumble, tilting Katie's head up with a hand so their eyes could meet. They were such pretty eyes, now almost aglow with speckled reds. “Did you have a choice, Katie? One that wasn't simple starvation. What would have happened to you if you hadn't done those things?”

Katie wanted to look away, ashamed. She wanted to avoid her alien overlord's gaze and go quiet. It wasn't much of an option. The insistent thrum surrounding her drew her attention upwards and locked it in place. She couldn't avert her eyes any more than she could suspend her own heartbeat.

“I didn't,” she breathed, tears now flowing more freely down her face. Her voice was hesitant, wavering as she processed each word in turn. “I had to eat. I'm sorry. I didn't have any help to spare. I was barely surviving myself, but I wish I could have done something. Something to make my existence not just be one more part of the human machine. I'm... sorry,” she whispered.

Thatch's thumb gently rubbed up Katie's cheek, soaking up the tears and helping her see more clearly. “I forgive you.” There was no cruelty in her smile. There was anger in her eyes, but it wasn't directed at Katie. For Katie, she had nothing but kindness. “It wasn't your fault. You did what you had to do, and now you don't have to live like that any more. It's okay. All that is over now, and you'll be okay.”

Katie finally managed to tear her gaze free. She buried her head in Thatch's side, sobbing, feeling the beginnings of a weight she had carried her whole adult life begin to lighten. It took minutes before she was ready to speak again.

“But... what about the ones who didn't have to do it? Why do they get away with it? The quadrillionaires, the politicians, the warlords; the ones who could have changed things and didn't?”

Thatch laughed, a bassy, dark thing. It felt almost like a kick across Katie's whole body, but a gentle one. It filled her with warmth, not pain. Her voice had a cold edge to it that would have been terrifying had she not been directing it where Katie wanted. “They will never be allowed to hurt you, or anybody else, ever again. I can personally guarantee you that once we get back in range of the extranet, you could send a message to any one of those people and receive an honest, heartfelt apology for what they did. What additional punishment would you levy?”

Katie bit her lip, still breathing hard. “I want them hurt,” she admitted, voice quiet. “I want to see them suffer for what they did. Why should they be allowed a long, happy life under Affini care when that's exactly what they stole from so many others? Why do they get moved from one life of luxury to another while I'm left broken?”

A pair of fingers snaked their way to Katie's jaw, gently pressing it open to prevent her from biting herself so hard it drew blood. For a fraction of a second, Katie felt like Leviathan, tasting the finger of something so much bigger than herself and wanting more, but Thatch's hand left an instant later, returning to the top of her head.

“You aren't broken,” the plant whispered, voice firm, infused with a violent, punchy beat that was reflected in the rest of Thatch's body. Sharp bursts of heat, sound, and light joined the peaks of her words. It wasn't relaxing. Katie felt the affini's fire and her own rose with it.

“I am...” Katie whispered, voice failing her.

“You aren't broken.”

“I'm...”

Thatch's grip was impossible to resist. The hand atop her head conspired with a vine or two to tilt her head back up, preventing Katie from struggling, and preventing her from hurting herself with her struggles either. Thatch's eyes were sharp and focused, drilling into Katie's soul.

You aren't broken.

“I— I'm not broken,” Katie breathed, voice quiet enough it could barely be heard. Another piece of that which weighed her down slipped away.

“Domestication is not a reward, Katie. Neither is it a punishment. It simply is. We do not believe in rewards or punishments on such a large scale. Every living creature has its own unique, incomparable value. Every one deserves to be given the opportunity to be happy and fulfilled. Some of the universe's beautiful creatures can be their best selves when we remove their limitations, give them everything they wish for, and let them grow on their own. Some prefer a strong guiding hand, to remove the challenges of existence. Some simply cannot be happy without our assistance. Others—many humans included—would do harm if allowed to grow unchecked. Like a cancer, or a parasite, the ways in which they would try to sate their desires would bring suffering to others. We will not allow that. It is the right of any sapient creature to choose to be unhappy, but it is not their right to prevent others from having that same choice.”

Katie found herself nodding. It was much the same explanation as she'd been given before, and yet deeply different. This wasn't a rehearsed speech given to a confused creature, it was an impassioned one given by something which was angry.

“Isn't... that what you're doing here, though? Preventing people from having that choice? How is that your right?”

Thatch laughed again. A short, sharp bark. “It is not.” The admission came easily enough. “We have no more intrinsic right to it than you do. But, if we do not do it then it won't be done—or worse, it will, by somebody who will get it wrong.”

Katie took a deep breath. Anger brought out the tang in Thatch's scent. Something sharp, with an aftertaste that seemed to leave tingles over her skin. Not comforting, like it usually was, but Katie wasn't looking for comfort, she was looking for reparation. It was a scent that made her want to do something.

However, Thatch's fire was far deeper than Katie's own. It burned brighter and hotter. It drank up all the oxygen and left Katie's fire spluttering and dying out. She had little energy left. Katie let her muscles go slack, trusting Thatch would notice and guide her into a comfortable position. She did.

Katie let out a long sigh, not moving her head from where it had been placed. “Isn't that hard, though? To take on so much pressure? It seems unfair on you.”

Katie had ended up sitting on the stone tablet resting on Thatch's knee, with several vines cradling her to keep it comfortable. She could feel the way the question caused a hitch in Thatch's biorhythm.

“I...”

Katie continued, thinking through the implications. “And you can't possibly always succeed. What happens to the affini who take on that responsibility and still fail?”

“We...”

Thatch's rhythm fell out of sorts. Katie didn't notice directly, not straight away. She just felt her own stress rising, paired with an inexplicable sense of panic. It was only once she noticed that her breathing was being matched by Thatch's own that Katie managed to pull herself out of it, to focus on somebody that clearly needed her help. It let her tap into an energy source she hadn't realised was there.

She squirmed around, moving until she could reach up to Thatch's cheek with a hand. She left it in place. “Hey, it's okay. Do I need to get angry on your behalf, now? If I'm not broken, you don't get to be either.”

“I am... sorry. I cannot talk about this,” Thatch whispered.

Katie's hand pressed into her cheek with more force. She took a breath, then spoke. “Then we won't. Do you know what a traffic light is?”

The plant looked down at the top of Katie's head, with a curious tilt. Katie thought it strange that she could intuit so much of Thatch's mood and intent while nestled so deep within her, but figured that she was simply getting to know the creature better.

“I believe my Humanity is Adorable! class—please do not be offended, that is simply the naming convention for introductory classes on new species—back when I first entered the local area suggested that they were an old signaling system for horses?”

Katie nodded. “It's pretty outdated, but we kept it around as a metaphor, like how the save icon on our computers is an bendy discus. A lot of humans use it to help their partners be comfortable. When the light went red, the horses would start waiting in place until it was safe to move. When the light went green, they would stop waiting and swim away. Nobody is quite sure what the yellow one did any more, but we can pretend it's something between the two.”

Katie shrugged. Ancient history wasn't her area. “Anyway, if you want me to start holding off on something, just tell me red or yellow. If it's yellow I'll know this is a sensitive area and be careful. If it's red I'll change the subject, okay? No questions asked, no arguments, no stress. Just one word and I'll be able to do what you want me to.”

Thatch seemed to consider it, nodding a few times to herself, before nodding once to Katie. “And green?”

“That means we get swimming with whatever changes we discussed. Back to our normal operations, yeah?”

Thatch let out a deep breath. “Okay. Yes. Let us be horses.”

“Then if I ask that last question again, you...?”

“Red.” Thatch's word was sharp, cutting Katie off before she'd even finished the sentence. “I... Red, yes. Pause your equines.” Thankfully, Thatch didn't lock up afterwards. If anything, she seemed to get livelier.

Katie nodded, letting her hand fall, so she could nestle more comfortably against the affini's stomach. “Then we stop. I don't know that I'm in the mood to learn about physics any more, though I do want you to teach me how to do it right at some point. Do you want to go riding again? See how quickly we can get to that cave and back? Grab some fresh food for Leviathan while we're there?”

Thatch let out a soft sigh, and both she and Katie smiled. Her sixth sense for Thatch's emotional state was coming in useful more and more often. The affini nodded. “Yes, I believe that I do. You were a little hesitant with the turning last time; I can go faster than that. Green. Feel free to push a little harder and I'm sure we'll beat our time.”

They did.

The Atlantis's Fortune shook. A low boom rumbled through the superstructure along with the grinding sound of tearing metal. Katie ran for her vacuum suit, knowing that she wouldn't have enough time to put it on before succumbing to asphyxiation if the hull had just been compromised.

Atlantis was a cheap wreck at the best of times. No bulkheads to separate sections; no double-lined hull; just thin, stamped metal between crew and the void.

The old radio in the engineering bay crackled into life. “Looks like things are about to get rough: we're being boarded. Get your guns, everyone!”

Katie swore, sprinting to the side of the room. The Fortune didn't even have dedicated temperature control in every room, but each did have a rack of weapons. She grabbed a small laser pulse pistol and held it in shaking hands, pointed at the room's door.

It didn't take more than a few minutes before she heard a voice from behind. Shit. They'd come from the other direction. “Drop the toy, doll.” Katie froze, feeling the mild heat of a space-grade targeting laser on her back. Her gun clattered to the ground. “Turn around, hands up.”

The pirate stood before her, apparently alone, with what looked like a whole Point-Defense Cannon carried on a thick strap, pointed straight at Katie. Her heart skipped a beat.

“Yeah, atta girl,” the pirate said. She wore a pretty high-end looking vac suit herself, something that was at least military grade. Possibly better, by the look of the thermal vents and what seemed to be the reflection of a targeting system on the visor's glass. “Up against the wall, I ain't gonna hurt'cha. I'm just here for the cargo and fuel.”

Katie stiffened, glancing over at her discarded weapon. They needed that fuel or they'd be dead in the water. The cannon in the pirate's hands looked heavy, she probably couldn't bring it around all that fast. If Katie went now, she could—

Katie's attention was firmly grasped by the click of a shell loading into the barrel. “Nuh-uh, don't even think about it, girlie. This ain't your ship, you got no stake in this. Run the numbers for me, how much EM d'you need to reach a port? I'll not drain your tanks so bad you can't get somewhere.”

Katie glanced back at the gun, and—Crack!

***

The bright flash of a pillar of lightning failed to wake Katie. The Crack! of thunder that followed, however, knocked her out of bed like a physical force. She cried out, stumbled directly into a tree and fell onto her ass, breathing hard. She dived for the gun, coming up in a roll and—

No. That wasn't how it had happened. She dropped the twig and closed her eyes, waiting the five seconds it took for her activity to wake Thatch up and catch her attention. The affini pulled her in out of the pouring rain.

“It's okay, it's just lightning,” Thatch said. She had to raise her voice to be heard over the downpour that was crashing around them. Their hard-won fireplace was struggling against the onslaught, though thankfully the lid on their cookpot seemed to be doing its job, still. Katie glanced up to see that Thatch was only half-formed, with her other half holding her sheet of plantlife overhead to redirect the rain.

“It's just what?” Katie asked. “Thatch, I've lived in space most of my life! This is normal?”

Another rumble shook the trees like the world itself was coming apart. Katie squeaked and jumped closer to Thatch, who took the opportunity to finish her bipedal form, holding the blanket of leaves over Katie's head to keep the rain from reaching her. The plant wrapped an arm around Katie's shoulders and chuckled. “Natural correction for imbalanced electrical charge in the atmosphere, that's all.”

The sky broke in half with a blinding light that burned a line across Katie's vision. She whimpered, shuffling deeper into the protective sheet. “It— It looks like a weapon, are you sure we aren't being attacked?”

Thatch slowly shook her head. She glanced to the side for a moment and all her various little flowers began to glow, pushing back against the darkness surrounding them. The rest of the forest seemed to have gone dim to protect itself, or perhaps it was simply harder to see when compared to such displays of power. “I am quite certain, do not worry. It will not hurt us so long as we stay near the trees.”

Another strike, this one nearby, had Katie squeezing her hands over her ears. The rumble rattled her vision when it arrived a fraction of a second later and by the time it was over Katie was hiding between Thatch's body and her sheet of foliage. Katie had to be careful of the thorns, but as she gently touched the less sharp sides of each Thatch folded them away.

“Promise?” Katie asked. This was an unusual perspective to view the affini by, and Katie was in desperate need of something to focus on that wasn't her dream or the storm. She watched the way that Thatch's leaves subtly shifted their angles as she took air in with which to speak. A few quickly buzzed back and forth, almost too fast to see, imparting into the air the vibrations that made up speech, though clearly less limited than Katie's own vocal cords.

“I promise, yes. You know how this works, I expect. What would happen if you put a large area of charge high above a planet?”

Katie squeezed hands over her ears after another flash shone through the gaps in Thatch's weave. The rumble came a moment later. It still drew a flinch.

“I... um... electrical charge? It would... air is a bad conductor, so it wouldn't go anywhere!”

Thatch nodded. Katie could tell, through her sixth sense. “Quite so. Now, leave it there and keep increasing the charge. What happens?”

Was this really the time for a physics lesson? Katie whimpered, but tried to set her mind to the task regardless. “It... eventually it'd have enough charge to arc, if there was a connection to ground anywhere, but...”

“But...? Where might we find a neutrally charged ground source around here, Katie?”

Thatch asked as if it were a simple question. In her experience, 'Ground' was a kind of wire, usually attached to the aeroframe of a spaceship, that provided a big sink for electrical energy so that circuits could have a charge differential across which to do their work. Where would they find something like that around here?

Katie poked her head out from around the blanket for long enough to spot a pillar of fire briefly join the sky above and the ground beneath. She flinched back, but she had her answer. “The actual ground! That— that's probably where that term comes from, huh,” she said, feeling a rising blush on her cheeks. “Oh! So it's— It's hitting the trees because they're better conductors than the air. It won't hit us?”

Thatch nodded. “It won't hit us.”

Katie crawled out from behind her, finding a comfortable spot where she could lean against the affini's side. A little bit of tugging was enough to get the sheet lowered to hug against her body. It wasn't quite as effective at keeping the rain off, so Katie felt a few of the nearby splashes against her face, but it was good enough and far more cozy.

The next strike produced a much smaller flinch, and the one after barely a reaction at all. “It's quite pretty, actually...” Katie declared, after a while.

Thatch was smiling. Katie didn't have to look to know that, she could feel it. “Yes, it is. The universe is full of such wonders.”

Katie glanced up, attention captured by a brief rustle, to find Thatch looking down at her. Katie returned the smile.

“I'm gonna try to get some more sleep,” she said, as Thatch's lights dimmed. “I'll...” Katie yawned, shifting her position slightly, resting her head in Thatch's lap as she fell into slumber, trapping the plant in place.

***

The following morning, Katie was chewing on a bowl of soup. The fire thankfully hadn't quite gone out during the storm, so while the world around them still dripped and dried, they had a little oasis of dry to hide within.

“This is getting good,” Katie admitted, halfway through the bowl. Thatch seemed to spend some of her downtime each day fiddling with it. It was a meal they could both enjoy, though it was down to Katie to eat enough of the solid chunks to keep Thatch's consumption of the liquid balanced.

The plant's smile widened. “Thank you! I am using a new blend of local spices this time, as well as some carefully engineered chemicals of my own design.”

Katie squinted down at the bowl, suddenly suspicious. “This isn't doing anything to my mind, is it?”

Thatch shook her head. “Flavour only, no significant mental alteration beyond the obvious good feeling from a filling meal. No chemical releases you wouldn't find from any meal you enjoyed.”

Katie pouted down at it for a moment. That wasn't quite a no, was it? She shrugged and took another bite. It was good. Satisfying. “How do you usually draw the line between something that makes someone feel good and chemical stimulation? Like, touch naturally feels comforting because of chemicals, right? Where do you put the distinction between that and simply injecting those chemicals directly?”

Thatch shrugged. “We don't,” she answered, simply. “But I trust you will tell me if I am not abiding by your wishes.”

That made sense. Katie finished the bowl and handed it back, so Thatch could take it over to the river for a good wash. As the bowl crossed between them, the plant took a long look at her.

“When did you last take care of your hygienic needs, Katie?”

Uh. Shit. Katie cringed, pulling in on herself a little. “I've been getting the important stuff done,” she claimed.

Thatch raised a vine to Katie's side and drew a leaf across her shoulder, while taking off towards the riverbank. More respectful of her agency than simply picking her up and carrying her there, perhaps, but the implication was clear. Follow. Katie followed.

“What is 'the important stuff'?” Thatch asked, while lowering the bowl into the water, just downstream of Leviathan's tank. Katie busied herself checking on the fish, making sure it was okay after the night's interruptions, and tried not to think too hard about how Thatch's interrogation was making her feel.

“Y'know! Stuff! Body stuff. Shaving and- waste and, y'know, the essentials.”

It didn't take long for Thatch's dexterous vines to scrub the bowl free of its contaminants, which unfortunately meant she was free to focus on Katie more directly.

She raised a hand to Katie's jaw, gently resting it on her cheek. “Open wide.”

The cheek quickly burned red, the shade seeming to spread out from their point of contact. “Thatch, don't be ridiculous! I can take care of myself!”

Thatch's other hand came up to the other cheek, gently pressing against the muscle in the spot where Katie's jaw and skull met. It was uncomfortable and tingly and Katie kept her mouth firmly closed.

Thatch's thumbs came up to the sides of Katie's mouth and slowly pressed in. Katie could have tried to resist it, but they both knew it would have been a pretense if Thatch had allowed it. As Katie's jaw opened, Thatch pressed in a little harder with her fingers and Katie reluctantly opened it the rest of the way.

The plant leaned in, glancing around, while Katie tried very hard not to focus on how good her thumbs tasted resting against the sides of her tongue, or, secondarily, the embarrassment of being inspected for something she knew she was screwing up.

“Hmmn,” Thatch rumbled, removing her hands and letting Katie close her mouth back up. “When was the last time you brushed your teeth?”

Katie's blush did not want to go away. This wasn't fair. “Thatch, we're stranded on the bloody deserted Planet Dirt, is this really our biggest concern?”

The affini rolled her eyes, tilting Katie's head up to face her with a pair of fingers. “I see you have a dirty mouth in more than one way today. Yes, your health is my biggest concern here. When was the last time?”

“Thatch!” Katie complained, practically begging for relief. “Equals, remember?” she asked, hoping to distract the plant with philosophical musings.

It didn't work. “I expect you to call me out when I am being unhealthy too. When?”

Katie whimpered, speaking in the smallest voice she knew how to produce. “Probably a few weeks.”

Her equal partner's eyebrows rose. “Long before we got stranded here, then. When did you last wash your hair?”

Katie spluttered a formless protest. She'd given the answer, she'd given this damnable weed what it wanted! Torture ended when you gave the answer, didn't it?

“Katie,” Thatch warned.

“There's— Nobody around here can see us! I don't have anything to wash it with! I have more important things to do!”

Thatch didn't bother speaking, this time, simply allowing her flat stare to do the work. Katie's indignation withered. “About a week,” she mumbled.

Thatch's raised eyebrows asked a question.

“Hey, that one isn't my fault, it takes a while to wash long hair and ship water was pretty rationed.” Katie could at least be somewhat firm when she didn't know deep down that she should be embarrassed by this, and Thatch thankfully seemed to accept that justification.

“Next, when did you last wash your body?”

This was unfair. Katie squirmed, trying to step away, but the gentle brush of leaves against her skin made it clear that her lack of restraints was an illusion. She was going nowhere. “Also about a week,” she admitted. If she just answered the questions then this would go faster, right?

“Filed your nails? Or—” Thatch raised one of Katie's hands to check. “No, clearly just bitten. I'll not even ask about skincare.”

Katie knew that Thatch was capable of growing taller with each word, and she couldn't prove that that wasn't exactly what was happening.

The plant sighed. “Okay, well, we have some time this morning before we can do anything useful anyway. Let's get you cleaned up.”

Katie took a step backwards. A rustling of leaves provided a firm suggestion she return to her place, and so reluctantly she ended up putting her chin back against Thatch's fingertips, which had stayed static. “I can take care of myself, Thatch,” she insisted.

“So you say. If I leave it at this, will you remember? Be honest with me.”

“Ah— I—” Katie grit her teeth. Thatch never lied to her, did she? Misleading wording, sometimes, but no lies. Breaking that trust would hurt both of them, at this point. Katie did not, however, actually have to answer the question, so she stayed quiet.

A few seconds later, Thatch nodded. “Yes, as I thought. Come.”

All of a sudden, Katie was released from her gentle prison. She could have refused to follow. If she refused enough, Thatch would relent. She always did. Unfortunately, Katie knew the cursed xeno was correct here, and so reluctantly followed along, down the side of the river until they reached a spot where the water level was high enough for Katie to reach.

Once they got there, Thatch seemed to hesitate, looking momentarily uncertain. “I, ah, I realise the only thing I have which will work to clean your teeth may have a few side-effects,” she admitted. “If you wish, we can do this once I've figured out how to filter the sap.”

Oh, goddess above. Have this hanging over her head for who knew how long? Katie shook her head, she was already humiliated enough. “No, I— Let's get this over with, I feel dirty, now.”

Thatch nodded, then gestured for Katie to come closer while raising a vine that had been coated in some sort of thick semi-fluid. It was mostly transparent, and a pale green. Katie looked up at Thatch with a deep sense of betrayal. “Can I not do this myself?” she asked, wanting to find a hole to climb into and hide. Maybe if she jumped into the river, the current would steal her away quickly enough?

No, of course it wouldn't. Thatch would catch her before she'd even gotten wet. She was trapped here.

The plant shook her head. “Unfortunately, you didn't bring a toothbrush and I haven't a mirror, so this is the best I can offer.” A gentle rustle against Katie's shoulder prompted her forward, into the jaws of this beast she'd somehow become bunkmates with.

Thatch knelt down, bringing her head just a little above Katie's own. Thatch's fingers came up to press into the muscles at the girl's jaw, tilting her head up so Thatch could get a better view, and Katie knew better than to refuse this time. She opened her mouth.

Thatch's vine slid between Katie's lips and began gently rubbing against her teeth. The vine itself was small and, though a little abrasive, smooth enough not to hurt the sensitive skin of Katie's mouth. The substance on it was a sweet smelling thing that reminded Katie very much of Thatch's own scent, which was hardly a surprise when she thought about it.

After a moment of ensuring the makeshift paste was properly distributed, Thatch began to brush more thoroughly. Her hands held Katie's head in place and her jaw open while she worked, making sure every tooth got individual attention. If Thatch's hands hadn't been there, Katie had no doubt that she would already have moved, no matter how hard she tried to stay still. The gentle glide of vine on skin felt divine, and some little of the sap had already made its way to Katie's tongue, prompting little whimpers and pants. It was delicious, almost setting her tastebuds alight with a tingling fire.

It really only made sense for Katie to close her eyes. That way she didn't have to watch Thatch glancing around, inspecting every inch of her mouth to make sure she was doing good work. Not looking at it at least made the humiliation a little more abstract, if barely. She focused on the sensations in her mouth, the flavour, the smell. She could feel something going fuzzy on the edge of her mind, but it didn't seem to matter. It was all fine. All good.

After a few minutes, Thatch retrieved her vine. “Spit,” she said. Katie spat, letting the sweet tasting mixture of saliva and sap go free. A container was raised to her mouth and a little liquid poured in. “Don't swallow, just mix it around and spit again.”

Katie mixed, though she had to fight the urge to gulp it down. As soon as the sap mixed in, the liquid was divine, leaving her whole mouth tingling, longing to feel touch again. Katie's lips slipped, letting a little dribble down her chin, spreading that soft tingle further. Thankfully, Thatch's thumb was there to catch it before it could contaminate her entirely.

“Spit, remember.”

Katie spat.

She forced open her eyes. Had everything always been this colourful? She glanced up at Thatch's eyes and cooed. So bright and captivating, so many colours all slowly moving in their own secret pattern. Maybe if Katie stared for long enough she could figure it out.

After a moment, Thatch sighed. “Ah, a little stronger than I'd expected, then.” She blew out air through her mouth. “I'll whip up an antidote, one moment.”

She gave Katie a vine to play with instead. The girl spent a moment feeling it, then shook her head. “I'm... okay, no, this is fine,” she insisted. “You did say, and this isn't much.”

She raised a hand and held it out straight, as proof. It felt a little sluggish, but only a little, and the effects seemed limited to her sensations. Katie was still perfectly able to panic over almost nothing, so it couldn't be effecting her all that much, and not in any of the ways she was worried about.

“Hair or body next?” Katie asked, to try to hurry things along. The longer this lasted, the worse it would be.

Thatch rumbled. She was still kneeling, and very close by. Katie could feel the hot, humid air that expelled against her face. Her eyes slid half-closed, breathing deep of the subtle aroma. Thatch's two fingers against her chin elicited a quiet squeak. “Last time, you told me I shouldn't listen to you while you don't have a clear head. I should give you this antidote regardless, I think.”

Katie's cheeks flushed. She spluttered. The damn plant was ignoring her clearly stated boundaries! She grumped. “Yellow,” she said. “I'm fine, really. Head is pretty clear, I can think just fine. Just a bit of tingling.”

The gentle sensation of a leaf brushing against Katie's cheek drew out a soft gasp, somehow paired with yet another intensification of her embarrassment. “See, fine. I can do some mathematics for you if you want proof.”

Thatch emitted a low drone again. Katie smiled as the air rolled over her. “What exotic matter density would you want to jump a ship like your last one from Sol orbit to Jupiter?”

Thatch had a really pretty voice. Almost enough to dance to. Regardless, the question wasn't hard, and if anything Katie could focus better like this. Her attention all jumped at once to the last input, but that was a lot better than it trying to spread out to cover everything at once like it usually did. “Uhh, one and a half moles per mole of hydrogen,” she answered, after a few moments.

“Huh, really?” Thatch asked. “You seem confident, so let us assume that is true, but... wow is that a lot. Perhaps you'll get to see the Elettarium's drive once we're back, you may actually be able to appreciate the engineering.”

Katie grinned. “Thank you, Thatch,” she chirped. “Green?”

The plant nodded. “Hair and body we can do at much the same time. Clear-headed or not, I do not think you are sober enough to be in charge of our ride. I could take you up to where the river is slower and give you some privacy?”

Katie considered it, but shook her head. “If I can't drive then I don't wanna.” She grinned up at the plant for a moment. Now that she'd proven her head to be clear, she didn't have to worry about Thatch thinking her altered, but still had the perfect excuse for being a little bit of a brat. What was the plant going to do, spank her?

Katie's cheeks burned the brightest red at the thought alone. She jumped into the river.

As expected, ten different vines caught her before she'd even touched the water. “Katie, no. You are still dress— Well, I suppose I should wash your clothing as well, actually. Come on, take them off.”

Katie's grin fell away. She wasn't going to get naked in front of this thing? “I, hang on!”

Thatch rolled her eyes. “Katie, there is nothing to be embarrassed about. I am a sapient plant from another galaxy; I can assure you that clothing or not makes little difference to how unique and squishy you seem to me.”

Did that help? Did that make it worse? It was impossible to tell, especially with ten little points of tight contact massaging tingles into Katie's flesh with every tiny motion.

“Well, I can hardly take my clothes off here, can I?” Katie asked, though quickly realised that that wasn't quite true. She actually had an awful lot of mobility. She was being held in place, yes, but if she tried to move a limb then the vine grasping it would barely take a moment to register that and move. It was like wearing a little suit of powered armour. A little more embarrassing, but like Thatch said, it was hardly like this was something that made a difference to her. Katie used her freedom to carefully turn away from Thatch, so she at least had some privacy.

A little grumpy, Katie started pulling off items of clothing and throwing them to the side. Where a vine would have gotten in the way, it was temporarily removed, and then replaced once the item was done. Further vines snatched the items out of the air a moment after Katie had let go. It only took a few minutes before she was naked entirely, and...

Wow, she'd been wearing those clothes for a while, hadn't she? Just touching them had been kind of uncomfortable. She was filthy. Katie reached out to one of the vines Thatch had hanging about in the air around her and grabbed on, using it to adjust her position. As Katie moved, Thatch made sure there was always a vine like it within reach. The black ones held her in place, but generally let her move her limbs as she liked. The red ones didn't budge an inch, but instead let Katie position herself.

It was like moving freely under her own power, except both of them knew that it was the exact opposite.

Katie dipped a toe into the flowing river. It was fast moving, but not too cold. As she climbed in, she was grateful for the vines. She could tell from the pressure on her skin alone that without them she would be being whisked away. Katie glanced behind herself, to make sure Thatch could handle it. The creature wasn't even looking at her, but was instead busying herself sorting clothes, with a few vines tightly wrapped around nearby trees to provide support.

Katie dunked her head under the water. Just the flowing stream alone worked wonders. Her hair had gotten tangled and filthy, utterly bedraggled. Katie ran her fingers through it, wincing every time she came to a knot. Before she'd gotten more than a few inches down, she could tell that she'd be getting nowhere without a comb. Obviously they didn't have a comb.

“Thatch?” she called, attracting the creature's attention. She gestured to her hair. “I don't... really have the equipment for this?”

Thatch left Katie's clothing in a sorted little pile. She hopped into the river herself, using a couple more vines to counter the increased load but otherwise not seeming to care about the rapid flow. With a soft smile, she raised her fingers and gave them a wiggle. “May I?”

Even with the incredible cooling potential of being mostly submerged, Katie's blush felt like it was heating her face a few degrees. Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded.

“Then just hold still and let me take care of everything,” Thatch spoke, voice gentle, though still audible over the rushing water. She placed her hands against Katie's hair, and Katie really hoped the soft gasp was drowned out. Gentle fingers pressed against her scalp, and before long Katie could feel the sensation of a gentle lather being worked up.

“What's that you're using?” Katie asked, voice as steady as she could manage despite the way her thoughts so desperately wanted to sink into the massage.

“The same sap,” Thatch admitted. “It's a very flexible substance.” As if to accentuate the point, a pair of vines joined in, slowly rubbing down Katie's arms, leaving distinctive bubbles of soap behind them. Katie moaned gently, feeling the same tingle from before sinking in to her skin.

Hands worked through her hair. It wasn't really anything more than Katie herself could have done, getting the strands good and coated in their best substitute for shampoo and then gently teasing the knots apart. Thatch was, however, very good at it. Katie supposed it made sense, she must be used to disentangling large collections of long strands. Probably that became second nature after the first century of being a weird plant monster.

Katie let out a long, soft gasp as the two vines gently scrubbing her body did their work. Everywhere they went, they left behind a desperate need to feel their touch again, and thankfully they were happy to sate that desire at the same time. It was slow going, almost luxurious. Thatch surely could have done this faster, but neither of them were pointing that out.

As they worked, Katie ended up leaning backwards into her partner, now also apparently her stylist. It forced Thatch mostly underwater, but she didn't seem to mind, and lying back was very comfortable for Katie. Once all the knots had been worked out of her hair, it was time to move on to the main event.

“You have wonderful hair,” Thatch whispered, as she worked a fresh batch of sap into Katie's scalp with ten firm fingers. More of Katie's hair was drawn into the lather over time, until the top of her head was naught but a collection of slightly green bubbles, tingling away. Each bubble that popped took a little stress with it.

Katie moaned appreciatively, nodding. “I'd be worried that you were doing something to me,” she admitted, voice at a whisper, relaxing into the gentle motion surrounding her. “But I did get to visit a stylist once and it was basically this good. Almost.”

The plant chuckled, taking a moment to brush the back of her faux-knuckles across Katie's cheek, eliciting another soft gasp. “I see we have competition, then.”

Katie shook her head, whimpering softly as even that small movement filled her with more sensations than she knew what to do with. “Noooooo,” she breathed. “I don't think the stylists could beat your ships.”

They both nodded, taking the point seriously for just a beat, before laughing. Thatch broke the silence that followed, while her fingers sectioned off bits of hair and held them down with individual vines, so she could focus on cleaning one small section at a time. “I am glad to hear that your life has not been constant misery, though.”

Katie tried to nod. A moment of tighter grip reminded her to keep herself still. “It hasn't,” she agreed. “Just pretty close. Can you believe I had to pay for haircare stuff on the Indomitable? Whole civilisation's gone and nobody else was using it and they still wouldn't give it to me unless I paid with money backed by a government that didn't exist any more.”

Katie laughed suddenly, as the vinepair cleaning her body reached somewhere sensitive. Her head jerked a little, but she was held tight. No ruining this.

Thatch didn't respond to her laugh except by making sure her vines were more careful. “I would believe that, yes,” she muttered, voice dry even while nothing else was. Even mostly underwater, she managed to produce a pretty nice voice, though it did audibly suffer a little for it. “A lot of species have something like that. Something they never even think to let go of, long past when it makes sense to keep. Looking at the patterns between our various ward species is almost as interesting as exploring the differences.”

Katie felt like that was something she should have an insightful response to. Instead, she only managed an inquisitive moan. With hands against her head and vines scrubbing her chest, how was she meant to do any more than that?

“Mmh,” Thatch replied, most of her focus going elsewhere. “For the Xa'a-ackétøth it was war. They were so happy when we took their automated weapons away from them, as though they'd never considered it an option. For humanity, yes, it was capitalism. A simple fact of life to them, once, yet once we took it away they thanked us.”

Katie tilted her head back, subconsciously following Thatch's direction, so the affini could start washing the substances out of her. The pair of vines started over at her shoulder, now focusing on cleaning away all traces of sap. She managed to mumble out “Mmmh, yeah, thanks for that,” between softly quivering lips before the sensations overwhelmed her, and she sank into silence. Thatch didn't seem to mind, and continued quietly explaining all the various iterations of the seemingly unavoidable pattern of sapient life simply not knowing how to handle itself without the Affini's guiding hand. Gambling, for the Furool; Genetic manipulation for the Hurkín; not being adorable little pets for the Beeple.

Katie simply mumbled an acknowledgment of each in turn. By the time she managed to put together a thought again, she was being carried in Thatch's arms back to camp. Her eyes fluttered open. “All done?” she asked, voice a little distant and very soft. She was carefully deposited on a warm stone near the fire to dry off. Her clothes were hung on a strand of rope Thatch had tied between two sticks, in a makeshift line hanging near the fire.

Thatch nodded, sitting on her own rock and letting the fire dry off the excess water. “For today, yes. I'm sure it won't take as long tomorrow.”

“So I can just wrap the wire around this?”

Katie held up a short, plump stick for inspection and received a nod. She coiled her hard-won metal wiring around it, keeping each loop right next to the one before it. This represented days of time and effort. She still had a couple of scuffs on her palm from the mining, and Thatch had a little burn on one of her vines from the processing. If Katie ruined it now, it would be a real setback.

She glanced up at the affini sitting to her side, looking for a moment of affirmation. Of course she wasn't going to ruin it. If she were doing anything wrong, Thatch would stop her before any real harm was done. Katie carefully curled the wire again and again around the stick, forming a little inductor coil.

The weather had turned again, though not as poorly as the previous day's storm. Thatch had thrown together a makeshift windbreak to keep the worst of it away from them, but Katie didn't mind the light sprinkling of rain that still managed to find them. The canopy high above kept the worst of it away, directing what could have been torrential down the sides of trees and directly into their root systems. It still made for a dramatic evening, with little by way of insect life daring to brave the winds, save for the gently buzzing pinpricks of light that hid behind the windbreak with them.

“Are you sure the antenna will be okay?” Katie asked, glancing up the side of one of those trees. A long, hair-thick vine that Thatch promised was a good electrical conduit wove up one of the massive trees surrounding them, poking up out into the empty air far above them with a few meters of metal cabling to act as a more reactive antenna. Would it stay standing in this kind of weather?

“Assuming it is not struck by lightning, it would take more than these winds to break it,” the affini promised, brushing a few leaves up Katie's back. Now that her clothes were getting a daily wash and were no longer so filthy they functioned as impromptu armour plating even the lightest touches transmitted well. Katie shivered and nodded, smiling up at her companion.

“Gotcha, Teach!” She put the finishing touches on her inductor and shuffled closer to the tree to start wiring it in. Thatch raised a few vines to hold the other end of the conductive vine around the tree down, and point out the best place to insert the metal piece of their makeshift system. She was getting good at making use of her new array of colours. Black vines held the wire down, while the attention-grabbing red one was what pointed out what to do.

“Teach?” Thatch sounded more than a little skeptical. Katie didn't need to glance back to intuit the questioning look on her face. She jabbed one end of the metal wire into a vine on one side, and then into another vine on the other, and then rested the coil carefully on the ground.

Katie shrugged. “I feel like you should have some kind of title here. Thatch is a cute enough name, but a girl needs some variety, right?”

Katie was starting to think of Thatch as somewhat of a high-end speaker system wrapped up in an impractical number of vines. It made sense, sure, they needed to be able to speak every language from every species and having a voicebox as limited as the human design would quickly falter, but Katie couldn't help but think that it defeated the point of taking such obviously human form when Thatch didn't even bother making sure her noises were anything that Katie could begin to reproduce. She buzzed, in what sounded more like a frequency sweep than any reasonable voice.

Katie turned. “Okay, I'm getting pretty good at interpreting you, but what was that?”

Thatch glanced up, with two of the conductive wires leading into her chest. “Calibration.” Even the simplest radio design needed some way to output what they were picking up, but when Thatch had told Katie not to worry about it, she hadn't expected this.

Katie glanced over to Thatch's hands, which were busying themselves swapping wires around over the simple tuning circuit Katie had put together. It would have been nice to have a dial to tune resistance, but the best they could do was manually jump wires around to approximate what they were looking for.

“You're weird, hon.” Katie stood up, taking the moment to stretch. They'd been at this for a few hours by now, and she was getting stiff. She found herself looking out over the sky above the river. The planet was all lit up, so she couldn't see as much of the endless void as she was used to, but it was still beautiful.

“Do you really think we'll pick anything up, Thatch?” Katie asked, after a few moments of relative quiet. The radio had been her idea and while she'd certainly contributed her fair share, she would still feel bad if it led to nothing and all the affini's efforts had been wasted. It was deeply unfair how many materials the plant could simply grow, but it was still surely energy expenditure they could have been putting into something else.

The sky was bright and present in a way that it simply hadn't been whenever Katie had had the bad luck to spend time on a Terran world, where industrial lighting invariably drained the sky of its stars entirely. Could there really be anything but them here?

Thatch caught Katie's attention with a gentle rustling down the arm. She hurried over, taking a seat next to the plant and looked up with a smile. “I hope we do,” Katie admitted, “but how weird would it be if we randomly landed somewhere inhabited?”

The plant nodded, opening her mouth to speak. Her lips moved, but nothing came out. After a moment, she paused, frowned, and moved one of the wires. She tried again. “It would be extremely unusual, I have to admit, but perhaps the universe simply wishes us to survive.”

Katie paused, taking a closer look at her companion. She raised her eyebrows. “Is this spirituality I hear? Faith in a higher power?”

Thatch blew out a little air, face flowing into a small smile. She shook her head. “Hardly, the Affini ourselves are the highest power we have yet to meet and, frankly, were we to discover an intelligence behind the suffering of this universe it would be on the fast track for class-Os.”

Katie glanced down at her hands. Thatch had given her a brief rundown of their classification system for chemical compounds over dinner the night before, once Katie had started coming down from her own chemically induced haze. The O ones were the scariest. Total rewiring of how a sapient brain experienced pleasure and suffering, to ensure an endless supply of the first and an impossibility of the second. It was discomforting to hear them spoken of so irreverently.

Thatch paused, noticing Katie's quiet, and laid a vine around her shoulders in comfort. The girl lifted her own chin, with a quick smile. She may not have been comfortable with Thatch's culture, but the same was very much true the other way around, and they were figuring out how to make do.

Satisfied that Katie's mood hadn't been too far thrown, the affini continued. “Even we do not know everything, Katie. Sometimes one simply has to accept that some things are up to chance, though of course we do our best to insulate our wards from such things. Now, it was likely inadvisable for me to section off my vocal system like this, so I would rather have this done quickly. Can I trust you to manage exploring the electromagnetic frequency for me, 'student'? I will not be able to touch the rest of the circuit if I am to also speak it.”

Student. Katie cursed the way the Affini had taken all the good words for themselves. She wrinkled her nose. “Okay, no, that makes me feel like a kid again, maybe we don't use those titles.”

Thatch's mouth twisted to the side in thought. “Katie is also a cute enough name for me.”

Katie looked away, towards the source of the rain, in the hope that the gentle splashes would cool off her cheeks before Thatch noticed. “I liked Katieflower,” she admitted. “It's a bit of a mouthful, but it's... cool to hear somebody riffing on my real name. I haven't gotten that much. It feels more like it's ours than some prepackaged term.”

The wind swelled for a few moments, making it hard to converse. The windbreak strained, scaring off a lot of the insects that had been using it as cover, but it didn't take long for Thatch to shore it up. The campfire almost went out, but thankfully the windbreak could be adjusted to cover it, and the flames soon recovered.

“Is that not a pet name?” Thatch asked, genuine uncertainty echoing in her cadence. Katie took a moment to think about it, and then shook her head with a small shrug.

“I don't think so, or at least, not how I meant it. It's weird for somebody who doesn't even know you to call you cutesy names, but you're getting to know me now. It's not the same thing. I just wish I had something to call you back that wasn't super awkward or, y'know.”

Her imperialist conqueror smirked. “Domestic?”

Katie grinned, and spoke her first words through a laugh. “Sure, let's go with that. 'Thatch' is good, and so long as it's safe for you to do so, let's see what we can pick up?”

“It is safe, flower.” Thatch paused, and glanced up at the sky. “Assuming I am not struck by lightning.”

The two of them spent a moment carefully considering the clouds. After a few seconds, Katie blew out air and spoke. “Let's be quick about it, then.”

Thatch connected a wire and began to hiss. Katie couldn't help but waste a moment looking at the creature's leaves, all vibrating in place in an unusual pattern. What did it say about the past few days that this wasn't the weirdest thing she'd done recently? Katie started swapping wires around while the two of them paid attention to any changes in the pattern, until...

The hiss stopped, replaced by a firm staccato beat. Not music, but a pattern all the same. All four eyebrows rose to the heavens as Katie tweaked a few other wires to zero in on the frequency.

They needed to write this down! Katie hurried over to the small stack of slabs Thatch kept for writing. She grabbed a blank one and her own thorn tool. She moved back over, stepping a little carefully, as she knew Thatch likely couldn't catch her without disrupting their delicate balance of Terran and Affini technologies.

She started trying to chip in the pattern. It was somewhat like morse code, the old encoding mechanism that still saw some use on broken ships that couldn't signal any better than on or off, but only really in that it shared that common technical limitation. The pattern itself was utterly unrecognisable, but after a few iterations, Katie was fairly confident she had it written down.

She reached over to unhook a wire, and Thatch twitched and slumped, making a loud noise not unlike a whole-body cough. She opened her mouth to speak and couldn't produce more than a whisper. Katie carefully put the tablet down and moved over, putting her ear to Thatch's chest. She knew where the sounds really came from, after all.

“It appears that did more damage than I had been hoping,” Thatch whispered, voice sounding strained even at her slight volume. “Perhaps this is why I was so often told not to do this kind of thing by my own tutors.”

Katie placed a finger over Thatch's mouth, hoping the cultural iconography would translate well enough. “Shh. You okay?”

Thatch nodded firmly, though didn't try to speak. She pointed at their makeshift radio and shook her head, then back at herself with a second nod.

Katie pulled a face. “Sorry. Will it get better?”

The plant nodded again. A soft tap on the back of one of Katie's shoulders had her turning around, and then a leaf's brush across her upper arm sent her to retrieve the tablet, so they could inspect it. Katie brought it back and held it out for Thatch to take, then settled herself in the creature's lap before holding out a hand to take it back.

“This way we can both see it,” she explained, holding it in a position that was comfortable for her and trusting that the creature watching over her would have a good view too. Katie found herself smiling, knowing Thatch would be doing the same.

Though unable to speak, Thatch was still a great help when it came to cleaning up the pattern. Stark red vines pointed to different sections, helping Katie figure out where the repetition started, so they could extract just the piece that meant something.

Katie stared down at it, carving little doodles into the side of the page with her 'pen'. “It's too short to be a very complicated message, I think.”

A brief sense of approval came down from above. Katie glanced upwards, momentarily concerned that she was putting far too much faith in her inexplicable sixth sense, but Thatch was smiling down at her. “Okay, cool.” She nodded, mostly to herself, and looked back down. “It isn't simple enough to just be an emergency beacon, though, probably? Back in the Terran civilian fleet, we used 'SOS', which stands for 'Ship Outside Safety', so that it was easy to broadcast and hear.”

Katie felt a hand gently grasp her wrist and hold it still. Katie glanced down, and only then noticed that she'd been about to nibble on the end of the thorn. She winced. With one hand holding the tablet and the other fixed in place, she didn't have many good options for a quick signal of gratitude. She made do by leaning slightly to the side and gently tapping her nose against Thatch's forearm, whispering a quick “thanks.”

Thatch let go, and Katie made sure to keep an eye on what she was doing with the sharp blade.

She let out a deep breath. “I'm making a lot of assumptions here, but you aren't stopping me, so I'm going to assume I'm on the right track and keep going.” Thatch rested an encouraging hand atop Katie's head. Without the ability to speak, they really had no option but to communicate through touch. “If my information theory lectures still have any value here, I've got to guess that this is a code rather than language. I doubt we'll be able to understand it, but whoever is broadcasting this must be doing so for a reason. We could... Do you think we could build something to tell us how strong a signal is? We could triangulate in on it?”

This wasn't really Katie's area, but in the last months of her part of the rebellion, when things had started getting really stretched thin, stuff like roles and responsibilities had started breaking down. Nobody else knew how to keep a manual Jump Drive running like Katie did, but basically every other role on the ship had just been a desperate mix of whoever was free at the time. It was hard not to pick up a few skills in that kind of environment.

Thatch was nodding, but a soft gust of scent attracted Katie's attention, and she glanced to the side, back across the river. It was getting late. Hmn, she wouldn't want to forget her medication, would she?

“It's getting late, maybe we worry about that tomorrow? We've been busy today, maybe we could eat, do meds and hygiene stuff, then get an early bed? I could tell you about that time I faced down a pirate queen!”

***

As evening turned to night, the pair went through what was fast becoming a ritual. They cleaned up after themselves, making sure that they left their campsite as clean as it had been that morning, or preferably cleaner. Katie took a few minutes to check up on Leviathan, ensuring they seemed happy and well fed. She and Thatch spent a little while after that transplanting little pieces of the local environment into the tank, creating an enjoyable place for the little fish to explore.

Thatch felt like an idiot. Eighty years of experience in one form of bioengineering or another and she chose now, the first time she was more than ten minutes away from a well stocked medical facility, to start ignoring the rules? No matter how good you were at altering your own biology, you didn't experiment on yourself. Thatch knew she had been lucky to only burn out the more sensitive parts of her vocal apparatus. She should have waited the few days necessary to build something properly, but she'd seen the look on Katie's face as they'd been putting the radio together. The poor girl really needed to see her efforts pay off for once. Thatch's damaged pieces would grow back, and it likely wouldn't take that long, but this was going to make co-operating with her poor companion rather more difficult.

Katie walked from the fishtank over to the fire with a yawn on her lips, to where Thatch was busy distracting herself by stirring soup. “Meds time, maybe?” she asked. As always, Katie raised her voice a little when she thought she was starting a conversation, as if she expected that she had less than Thatch's full attention at any given point.

Thatch opened her mouth to reply, out of habit, but there was still little sound to be had. Idiot. She instead moved over to sit next to one of their seating stones, and patted it. At least she had the poor flower learning how to take care of herself now. If Thatch returned to the Elettarium with a dirty, malnourished creature then Katie might be whisked away to be domesticated for her own good. If Thatch could teach her how to take care of her own basic necessities, however, maybe the others would agree that she could be happy on her own.

Katie skipped over to sit on the very edge of the seat, leaning most of her body weight against Thatch's side. A careful vine adjusted her position, helping her find a more ergonomic posture. A hand against the back of her head helped keep her from slipping. It was late, and given that they hadn't built a bed yet Katie seemed to be getting so used to sleeping in Thatch's vines that she started getting sleepy whenever they were close in the evenings.

Probably that was a habit Thatch should correct, but it wasn't like it would be a problem once they got back to Compact space and Katie could get more suited accommodations.

Thatch extended a now-familiar bundle of flowers from the arm that wasn't holding Katie in place and held them out for her. Katie sat for a moment with her eyes locked onto the colourful leaves, waiting patiently. Thatch was incapable of guiding her through the process by voice, unfortunately. Hopefully she could enable some meager communication with body language alone.

She didn't have any free hands, so instead Thatch guided a small vine to catch Katie's attention with a gentle touch. The girl glanced up with a quick smile. She did seem to get a lot out of knowing she was properly medicated, though Thatch wished she had the ingredients to build something better. This regimen barely counted as class-G, though it was at least far more potent than anything Terran science could have been providing her.

Thatch nodded down towards her arm, carefully managing her bioluminescent pods to draw the girl's attention back down, and then prompted her forward with a quick brush of leaves. Katie leaned into the flowers and Thatch let her own rhythms rise, prompting Katie to breathe in.

Thatch would usually spend this time making sure Katie was okay. She had described a lot of discomfort with medical care, and the last thing Thatch wanted was to make Katie feel like her bravery wasn't appreciated. This would all be so much harder if Katie wasn't as adept at handling her fears. Lacking voice, Thatch did her best to express her gratitude by stroking a gentle hand through her hair.

She smiled down at the creature. There was something therapeutic about getting to provide for her needs. While Thatch still felt like an emotional wreck half the time, she hadn't felt useless in days. It was exhilarating.

She let her rhythms fall. Katie was clearly paying very close attention, because she let out her breath immediately, and after a moment to recover, they began the process again.

Hadn't that always been Thatch's problem, though? So desperate to help that she—

Yellow. Definitely yellow. Thatch tried to cut off that particular line of introspection and focused her attention on Katie. Thankfully, her little Katieflower had been getting used to people—or at least one person—very quickly, and Thatch no longer needed to move her with brute force now that they'd developed the vocabulary by which she could ask. Thatch brushed a vine across Katie's side, letting her know that Thatch was ready if she wanted to shift back to the side. The drugs always left her a little hazy anyway, though Thatch hadn't managed to pin down why exactly. There weren't any active ingredients that should cause it.

Katie slumped to the side immediately, keeping her nose firmly among the flowers. Not really necessary, given that she was still holding her breath, and this was the second half of the dose. Thatch took a moment to fold away her equipment and adjusted her own position, so she could use both hands to keep Katie stimulated and prevent her from falling asleep, despite the comfort.

While she let Katie recover from her ordeal, Thatch looked down, watching her little chest rise and fall, and the way her tiny fingers twitched sometimes, when she had nothing to do with them. She was so fragile and precious. She wanted to be free, and Thatch wanted to give Katie everything that she wanted... but this was a creature made to be someone's. Gentle, kind, endlessly responsive and caring, empathetic to a fault and in need of so much fixing. Even without her voice, Thatch knew that she could have her. In minutes. Tear down Katie's fragile mind and start to build something better from the ground up. It would be easy, she'd just have to—

Red. Definitely red. Thatch forced her gaze away, to the stars. They were a long way from home, and Katie was counting on her to get them back. She had real problems enough without imagining more. Thatch had often found herself wishing for a more practical purpose, but whenever one had presented itself, she'd only screwed it up, hadn't she? Katie would be better off far away from her. Thatch's soft smile fell away as she felt dull fear settling over her core. If she screwed up here, she had no backup. No alternative options. Nobody to mitigate it. If she couldn't get Katie home safely, then maybe it would be best if she just stayed here on the rotten planet Dirt.

Thatch twitched as she felt Katie's fingers brushing against her cheek. She glanced down to find a concerned face. Thatch cursed inwardly, wondering what she'd done to tip the little creature off. She gave a soft smile, but as always, Katie saw right through her.

“Feeling rough?” Katie hadn't sat up, she was simply craning her neck up at an uncomfortable angle. Thatch leaned back, cradling Katie's body with an arm, so that she at least wouldn't hurt herself staring. She shrugged. She couldn't talk about this stuff at the best of times, never mind when she literally couldn't talk.

Katie nodded, shuffling around until she could stare at Thatch more directly, now practically draping herself across the affini's stomach.

“I'd ask if you wanted to talk about it, but that might be in poor taste.”

Thatch's smile grew a little more honest. She could still laugh, too, it was only the fine leaves that controlled detail that were burned out. Simple movement of air was fine. She nodded, and pressed a few fingers against Katie's cheek in a wordless display of gratitude. The girl leaned into it, closing her eyes for a few brief moments.

How could Thatch possibly not break something so delicate as this?

“Don't think I don't notice this stuff, hon. I know I'm kind of the default choice, given that there's nobody else here who speaks our— well, I guess my— language, but you know I'm here if you need to talk, right?”

Thatch stared out into the void.

She felt Katie rummaging around for a moment, until she found a vine and wrapped it around her hand.

“Squeeze, please.” It made sense that the poor thing wanted comfort, so Thatch squeezed. “Thank you. Stop squeezing or freeze up if you want me to stop, yeah?”

Thatch felt the ex-Terran slip down her body, finding a comfortable spot that neither of them needed to put effort in to maintain. She continued. “You've helped me a lot,” Katie admitted. “Just having somebody who's willing to talk to me like an equal, and... admittedly, somebody who actually calls me out on my shit. I'm... not used to anybody being willing to pay that much attention to me. It's nice.”

Thatch kept holding her hand, but couldn't quite bring herself to look down at her. This was wrong. A hundred years of soaking up the values of her culture screamed at her. The Affini shielded their wards from the dangers of the universe; the risks of uncertainty; and the trauma of doubt. She could damage Katie by being too honest, here, if she interpreted Thatch's weakness as being representative of a structure that truly could provide a certainty Thatch couldn't. A certainty that would benefit her to no end.

“We're not so different, are we?”

Katie was looking up at her with a mixture of concern and care, and Thatch couldn't handle it. She dared not look directly down, fearing that seeing Katie out of more than the edge of her vision would be too much. The vine curling around Katie's hand squeezed tighter.

“So let me in, Thatch. There's nobody here but us. Let me help, please? You said you expected me to be forceful if you weren't taking care of yourself, and you aren't, so this is me being pushy. I know you can't exactly tell me right now, and that's okay, I just want to make sure you know I'm here.”

The vine tightened further, and Thatch caught a glimmer of a wince. She looked down, just to check that she hadn't used too much force.

Katie's eyes caught her own. The only pain in them was sympathetic.

“You don't have to be alone. Let me be here?”

Knowing the damage she might be doing, but craving the understanding more, she slowly nodded her head, keeping her gaze on Katie. She could feel a tension building across her body, but it didn't last. She didn't have anything that could force a brief amnesia anyway. She couldn't undo this. The damage was done.

The girl didn't recoil in horror, or get uncomfortable with Thatch's touch. She leaned down and rested her chin against a leafy chest, and used her free hand to push one of Thatch's back down on top of her head.

How was Thatch meant to respond? In a year's time, Katie would most likely be a happy citizen of the Affini Compact, or, if she met the right person, an even happier floret. Thatch didn't want to do anything to damage her chances. She'd done okay by herself for decades, she could handle continuing on alone. She could—

Thatch whipped out a vine to grab Katie's wrist, preventing her from scratching herself on a thorn again. She frowned down at the girl, who must have been doing it intentionally, only to see a patient smile.

“You're always paying so much attention to me, even when you seem so far away. I can try to return the favour, okay? Trust me, Thatch, please. Let me take care of you, too?”

Something deep inside broke, and Thatch could no longer stand the light or the noise. She knew that if this conversation continued she would do something she would come to regret. She glanced up at the night sky for just an instant. It was late enough to bring the day to a sharp close. She was too weak to do what she knew she should do, but if she indulged herself in only a little way, it would sate that need, wouldn't it? In a few moments of frantic movement she wrapped Katie up in dexterous vines—making sure to keep the one around her hand firmly, but gently, in place—and carried the two of them over to where Katie had usually slept. A storm of smaller tentacles pushed open buttons, pulled down zippers, and unhooked clasps. It wasn't healthy for Katie to sleep in the same clothes she'd been wearing all day and Thatch waited just long enough to feel an affirming squeeze from Katie's hand before tearing them all away, leaving them in a folded pile. Thatch had spent her nights a few feet away until now, even if Katie had usually used her foliage as a blanket, but not tonight.

The vines around Katie retracted, letting her sink back into Thatch's grip. They could forget propriety for just one night. Thatch took enough of her bipedal form to wrap Katie in powerful arms and tuck her beneath a sharp chin, burying the girl's face in her chest. Held so close, Thatch could drink in every part of the girl's own rhythm. Her breaths, her heartbeat, the tiny twitches of a body that couldn't quite stay completely still and the soft gasps of warm contact.

Thatch hadn't the will to finish putting herself together. She was just a tangle of vines and leaves and flowers and she wove every one around Katie's limbs, around her torso and chest, even one or two around the girl's neck, in as total an embrace as she could manage. She caught the heat that radiated away, tasted the moisture of every patch of exposed skin, felt every tiny hair and all the many beautiful imperfections of a damaged form. She savoured the sensation of soft skin. Enjoyed the shivers that ran down Katie's back as a fine web brushed across her, pulling tight. She longed for more of the quiet, distant moans of a much needed hug.

Thatch would let the girl move. If she wanted. Desperately, she hoped she wouldn't have to. Thatch wanted the warmth and the companionship, for tonight. A few short hours of being able to pretend she had something—anything—to call her own.

Just for tonight.

She couldn't express her gratitude with words, but perhaps Katie would still get the idea.

She felt a quick squeeze against the vine around Katie's palm, and quickly squeezed back.

“Shall I take this as a yes?” Katie asked, through a quiet laugh. Thatch curled around her more tightly with a small nod. She wrapped her sheet of foliage around them, protecting both from the lights, the sounds, and the falling rain, and brought both of them down into a dreamless sleep.

Katie skipped across consciousness like a stone flying across a lake. Time and again, waking just enough to realise that it was morning, and that she really should get up. Time and again, finding herself pulled back down into slumber the moment she became aware of her surroundings. It was like trying to fight past the event horizon of a black hole. No matter how much she might want to wake...

Katie slept.

Her body tingled from head to toe, feeling as if she were floating in an open ocean. No part of her was touching anything hard, or was anything less than perfectly suspended. She could hardly be sure that she wasn't dreaming, but her dreams were nightmares and those seemed to be leaving her alone for the moment. Why would she want to wake, actually? She could sleep here forever.

Like any stone skipping, however, each leap was lower. Eventually, the threat of consciousness loomed large. Katie tried to fight it, wanting little more than to stay in her sleeping prison of warmth and comfort, but it was a losing battle. Light and heat willed her to wake. She refused, but it was insistent.

She shifted position slightly, and her body involuntarily let out a little whimper.

“Good morning, Katie.” The voice surrounded her, quiet chords chiming in her ears, and finally Katie had a reason to let herself wake up.

“Ughh,” she breathed. “Wake... no. Sleep? Please?”

She heard rustling from all around her and cursed sunlight burned through her eyelids. She hissed, and a moment of movement more brought the light down to a tolerable level. She forced open her eyes and found herself cocooned, with a small gap off to one side through which a fraction of the day's fury could reflect. It would have to do.

She glanced around and saw nothing but plantlife. Even when she looked down, at herself, it was just the tangled shades of foliage all the way down. She raised a hand to herself. Speckled black, flecked with splashes of red. She curled her hand into a fist and it moved easily enough, but...

“Uhhh,” she droned. “I think I'm still sleeping.”

Indeed, if she pinched herself, she felt nothing, though the flora around her did flinch. She felt a flush of heat rolling through her, though it felt like it was being delivered straight to her skin, not truly coming from within.

“Ah, no, I— Let's get you dressed, perhaps.” Thatch's voice was sounding much better. A little quiet, still, but singing its usual song. All across Katie's body, her 'skin' began to slither, curling away to reveal the delicate network of vines and roots that had actually formed it. She gasped in surprise as humid air hit her dry, exposed body. It felt cold, despite the height of the sun, and air pressure alone could hardly make up for what she'd gotten used to.

The cocoon slowly opened, letting Katie get used to the light, while Thatch handed her one item of clothing at a time. It was good that she had something to focus on, because otherwise she might be thinking about what had just happened, and that absolutely couldn't be allowed. Thatch was just a friend. They were stuck on a planet together and needed to huddle for warmth, that was all. It was reasonable. Not only was Thatch a friend, she was a space alien with a wholly different outlook on life. The only unreasonable thing here was Katie's burning cheeks.

“Brefast,” she declared, striding over to the soup and reaching out to grab the lid. A vine caught her wrist. She glanced back to watch Thatch reform as she moved between them, shifting seamlessly from the disorganised mess she had been into the elegant creature Katie was coming to know.

“It's hot, flower, do be careful.” Thatch's vine lingered a moment longer than it needed to. That didn't mean anything. Katie nodded rapidly, letting her hand fall away so Thatch could take care of it.

While the walking plant prepared their morning meal, Katie sat on one of their rocks and spent a few moments trying to massage feeling and warmth back into her arms. Her fingers did little to sate the electric tingling that danced across her skin, demanding something more, but at least working some heat back into herself helped.

“So.” Katie coughed, attracting a glance. “Do we need to talk about last night?” She knew what that would have meant with a human, but Thatch wasn't a human. Katie was extremely aware that she'd encouraged it.

The flora winced, and had the good sense to appear sheepish, and shrugged. She handed Katie a bowl of soup and one of their makeshift wooden spoons.

“I apologise if I overstepped, I—”

“No! No, it was... I didn't mind—”

“But I did not ask if I could—”

“And I didn't stop you—”

“That is not how that wo—”

“Thatch. Was nice.”

Thatch stared down at the soup. Several of the currently dim biolumenescent flowers dotting her body started to curl open, showing their hexagonal leaves. After a few moments, she looked back towards the once-a-Terran.

“You offered comfort in a time of need, and I am very grateful. Thank you.” The affini seemed reluctant to admit it. Katie nodded, mostly to herself. Comfort in a time of need. She could understand that. It was probably a good thing. What that sort of thing usually meant with a human was... Katie had never found herself comfortable with the things that unclothed humans did behind closed doors.

“Of course, any time,” Katie readily agreed. “I meant what I said, I'm here for you.”

She glanced down at her steaming bowl of soup and took a careful spoonful, wary of the heat. It was a little below scalding, but good. She gave Thatch a quick smile and continued eating, pulling the solid pieces out one by one.

“I do not know that I am going to find things very easy to talk about, however,” Thatch admitted. “And if we wish to find the source of that signal then we have a busy day ahead of us. It may please you to learn that I think I have finished developing a method to filter the undesirable active agents out of my sap, so I no longer need to be directly involved in your daily routine.”

That was good. It was a good thing. Katie nodded. “That's a good thing.” When Thatch offered her the makeshift toothbrush, and a little container of what she could only assume was clean, safe sap, she took them gratefully. Gladly. Happily. Without complaint. It was a good thing.

It only took Katie a few minutes to fish out all the solid chunks from her breakfast. She handed the bowl over to her companion—who slipped a deep-purple root inside with an appreciative hum—and set off down the river. She could spend a few minutes brushing her teeth here, but without Thatch's help she'd need a calmer section of river to bathe. Given they'd likely need to be travelling quite far today, that didn't seem like too difficult an ask.

Katie spent a few moments inspecting the sap. It didn't look any different. She squeezed a drop out onto the little tool Thatch had built for her. A carved wooden handle met a head of plantlife with firm little growths that seemed to function just fine as bristles. She extended a careful tongue to tap against the drop.

Katie let her eyes slide shut. It was delicious, still. She could feel herself relaxing just from the taste, but after a few moments of careful introspection she was pretty sure it wasn't actually messing with her head, but just reminding her of the times before. Regardless, Katie stuck the brush into her mouth and tried to do a good job. She suspected that Thatch would be checking up on her before long.

It was hard to focus on actually giving every tooth the attention it deserved, when the act of scrubbing was enough to fill her head with such a familiar taste and aroma. Katie first tried to count where she'd gotten to, but quickly lost track. Going from one side to the other, one tooth at a time, worked better, but when she reached the middle she lost track of which direction she'd been moving.

This was ridiculous. She wasn't incapable. She'd spent half of yesterday building circuits with only a little guidance on how to integrate it with Thatch's organic technology. She wasn't an idiot, and even the hypercompetent plant didn't make her feel like one.

After a few minutes of trying, Thatch came to check up on her. Katie harboured a secret suspicion that she'd been watched the whole time, and this was actually a reaction to her starting to express frustration, but she couldn't prove that. As Thatch drew close, Katie silently handed the brush over and waited until Thatch's fingers pressed into the muscles of her jaw, guiding her mouth open so she could spend a few moments cleaning up what Katie had failed to catch.

“You'll get it down in no time,” Thatch promised, resting a hand on Katie's head for a few moments with an encouraging squeeze. It at least didn't take her long to finish up. “Spit and rinse now.”

Katie's cheeks still burned, if less than they had at first. Should she be worried that she was getting used to this? Thatch handed her a container of water, and Katie at least managed to do that part, earning herself another moment of warm contact that banished the lingering tingling that suffused her skin, at least in that area.

They were in a hurry today, however. A leaf drawn up Katie's bicep attracted attention to Thatch's outstretched hand, which she took with her own as they made their way back to camp. Did the overgrown houseplant expect that she'd get lost on the way?

...Admittedly, that wasn't that much worse than failing to brush her own teeth. Katie wished she could blame chemicals for that, but she was as sober as she'd ever been and her focus skipping away from routine chores was unfortunately commonplace. There was a reason she'd forgotten to do them so often even before getting stranded.

“The further away we get, the better our triangulation attempt will be,” Thatch spoke, as they approached their campsite. “We can hardly leave Leviathan uncared for, but if we use this as one of our points, then perhaps we could head upriver in the morning and downriver in the afternoon and see if we get anything useful? We could swim?”

Once they reached the camp, a gentle vine prodded Katie forward, sending her to collect the leafy backpack they'd made for her after enough complaints about her lack of pockets. Thatch could carry enough food and water for the both of them, but Katie felt it was better if she carried her own supplies. More fair that way. It also meant she could bring the important pieces of their radio setup. They'd have to get high above the trees to pick anything up. The little luminescent plant they had it wired to wouldn't give them any audio, but as far as estimates of signal strength went it would have to do.

She realised, as she was climbing up Thatch's back, that the affini would be taking the weight either way, but it was too late to change her approach now. “I can't hold a conversation on the water,” Katie admitted. “Let's stay on land for now.”

Thatch hesitated, confidence faltering. Katie installed herself around the creature's neck and folded her arms over its head. “You promised, Thatch. Still, you do know you're in charge here, right? Just tell me what you need me to do and I'll do it, no questions or complaints. It's your call.”

The affini rumbled, but did eventually raise two bright red vines for Katie to grab onto. She did, but didn't begin guiding them forward straight away. “I mean it, Thatch. I'm not going to get upset if you need to stop. I'll do whatever you want me to, here.”

Thatch started moving forward by herself, but Katie pulled back on the reigns and brought them back to a stop. The plant emitted a soft whine, but acquiesced. “Alright. We shall talk, but we have much distance to cover, and I need something else to focus on.”

Satisfied, Katie let them go. First at a walking pace, and then a run, and then a sprint. As Katie got used to the movements again, they went faster. The sprint gave out to a fury of vibrant lines striking out at the trees around, carrying them across the land at dizzying speeds in a mixture of tangled biologies.

They couldn't quite match the speeds Thatch was capable of in the water, where they didn't have to dodge around trees, but there were plenty of improvements to be found here too. Katie knew that she wasn't really in control. If she missed something they needed to avoid, Thatch still avoided it. If she missed a twig at eye height that would have scratched her, it was never allowed to still be in place by the time Katie reached it. For all the fury, she moved in a bubble of safety that couldn't be breached.

She could shrink it, though. Left to her own devices, Thatch seemed to provide an almost comical margin for error, given her obvious precision. Trees were skirted by whole meters, twigs were removed long before Katie had a chance to duck. They could hardly be said to be moving slowly, but they certainly could be moving faster.

Katie joined in with the movements, leaning and ducking and using her guiding vines to trim away some of that margin of error in exchange for speed. Every extra meter they reached would improve their results. Every extra scrap of speed she managed to tease out of Thatch's hesitance was a real benefit she was bringing to the both of them.

Once they got into the rhythm of things, it felt safe enough to talk. “So, what's up, Thatch?” Katie asked, as they ducked around a tree tightly enough that she could have reached out and touched it.

Probably Katie should give them a little more room for mistakes if they were talking about something heavy. She gave the next tree a wider pass.

“You are,” Thatch admitted. Her shoulders were still in place, so Katie could have a seat, but the rest of her was simply action and movement, barely even perceptible as vines any more. “In a sense. I find myself uncertain around you. I do not know what it is that you need, and where I was sure, you have left me doubting whether it would truly be best for you.”

Katie felt her heart threatening to skip out. A mere handful of days ago, the thought of a weed expressing doubt at their own arrogance would have had her over the moon, but now? It felt like a hollow victory if it came at the expense of Thatch's happiness.

“You've helped me so much already,” Katie insisted. “I don't know what things you haven't done, but everything you have? You've helped. Before you came along I didn't think I'd live to see out the year. When I first met you I doubted I'd live to see the end of the week. I think since then you've taught me that I hadn't really been living at all, but... I think you're helping me want to bloom.”

Thatch was silent—or as silent as they could be, at what must have been approaching the speeds of a small aircraft. Long moments passed.

“I...” Katie felt the vines under her hands growing stiff, and glanced up in alarm at the tree they would surely meet if Thatch went ballistic. She gave both vines a gentle squeeze and leaned sharply to one side, and they skirted past it with an inch to spare. “I'll break you,” Thatch breathed.

It took a few moments to get them back on course, and Katie decided to give them an even larger bubble of safety for a while. Speed didn't mean much if she ended up accidentally convincing Thatch that she was right.

“You've been nothing but accommodating,” Katie insisted, guiding them through a small clearing. They interrupted a small herd of the giant hogs as they went, but the predators on this planet couldn't hope to pierce the bubble any more than anything else. “You aren't going to break me.”

They ran out of ground. With the forest so thick, they had under a second of warning before shooting off of the cliff fast enough that even Thatch couldn't reach back and rescue them. Katie glanced down at the dramatic fall beneath them, and shuffled forward a little to make sure she was holding tight.

“Oh, dirt and stars,” Thatch swore, looking around for a handhold that wasn't there. “See, I've gotten distracted and put both of us in danger!”

They were falling at a terrifying rate, plummeting through the sky towards a canopy that was now far below them. Katie's hair streamed behind her. The air was moving so fast it was difficult just to take a breath.

“Have some confidence in yourself!” Katie called, over the roaring wind. “Are you going to let anything happen to me, Thatch?”

“I— No, but—”

“Then catch us!”

They crashed into the trees in a storm of broken twigs and shattered branches, each impact robbing them of some of their speed. They still hit the ground hard enough to send up a plume of dirt.

With the very last of their kinetic energy, Katie stumbled forward, out of her perch, but did not quite trip or fall. She turned with a smile and offered a hand to help Thatch up.

“See? Not a scratch on me. You'll— Oof, are you okay?”

Thatch grumbled, raising a pair of fingers to wipe some softly green sap off of the leaves on her face. “It looks worse than it is,” she admitted, pulling herself up to her full height with a pair of vines attached to nearby trees. “But I do seem to be acquiring a habit of injuring myself, so perhaps I should be more careful.”

Katie nodded firmly. “Are you okay to keep going?”

The plant scooped her up and set her in place, and they were back at full speed in a minute or so.

Katie tried to pick their conversation back up. “You've never hurt me. Why do you think you will?”

Thatch was moving a little more conservatively than before. It didn't impact their speed all that much, but she seemed to be making sure she had one vine on a solid mount at any given time, instead of simply flinging them faster and faster.

“You are fragile.” Even at these speeds, Katie could tell when the thing was misleading her. She let go of one of her steering vines for a moment to tap Thatch atop the head.

“Compared to you, sure, you dork. That's not the kind of fragile we're talking about here.”

“You are already hurt.”

Katie nodded. “Granted, and you're helping with that, not adding to it.”

“Your needs are unique and individual.”

Katie rolled her eyes. She didn't even bother to duck to avoid a sharp looking set of branches in her direct path. A sharp crack was the only sign Katie needed that the danger had been dealt with. “Don't make me repeat one of your speeches back to you, hon. We're all unique and individual, right?”

Katie could feel a tension rising within her noble steed. She wouldn't have had the bravery to continue, but Thatch hadn't called upon her to stop, and a gentle squeeze upon a vine earned her one in return.

Katie squeezed tighter still, and got a tighter response. Hell. She had to ask the question, didn't she? The one that'd been in the back of her mind since the day they'd gotten here, when Thatch had first locked up.

“What was their name?”

Katie braced as she was brought to a sudden stop. Fire against her face; steel against her back. Oxygen burning up. A broken vessel cracking around her.

Katie gasped, stumbling out of Thatch's grip as they slammed to a halt about as fast as a human body could handle. The affini wasn't looking at her. Katie spent a moment catching her breath and trying to focus away from the panic. She had stuff to deal with now, damn it, brain!

She took a step closer to Thatch, but a firm vine blocked her path. She took it in a gentle hand and moved it aside. Her next step was blocked too, and the one after, but step by step, Katie cleared the way, until she could wrap her arms as far around Thatch's stomach as she could manage.

“Caeca.” Thatch's voice was barely a whisper, hardly audible over the ambient sounds of a silent forest. “Her name was Caeca.”

Katie gently pulled the affini down, until she was sitting in the undergrowth and Katie could take a place on her lap. A few moments of shuffling and tugging gave Thatch a Katie to hold on to, for support.

“Tell me about her?”

Thatch let out a soft sigh, with a gentle smile. “She was so excited to meet me. I her, as well, if I am being honest. The true name of their species is not something we can reproduce in an audible tongue, but the best translation I have for you is Spectrum Jellies.”

As she spoke, Thatch brought together a confluence of vegetation, showing Katie a rough outline of an aquatic jellyfish, complete with half a dozen little trailing tentacles.

“We could only talk in the crudest gestures and expressions at first, but over time I started to pick up a little of her language and she began to pick up a little of mine, at least of the written form. All of us there collaborated on learning these things, this was very much a collaboration between our two species, but it still took time. I did not mind. She had a razor sharp wit and an intelligence that never stopped being mesmerising.”

Thatch sighed, and the vines before them fell away. Her arms grew tighter around Katie's body.

“And she was dying.”

The affini stared up into the sky for long moments. Katie wrapped her hands around one of Thatch's and gave her a gentle squeeze, but no words. Now wasn't the time for pressure. A minute passed, or more, before there was another sound.

“Something degenerative in her body. Her mind was unaffected, but she hurt more every day. After a few months, it started getting worse. Their medical technology could do nothing for her. That was the whole reason why she had volunteered to be one of the first of our new wards to be fully domesticated, because it would save her. We had said that we could save her. Told her not to worry, and that everything would be okay.”

Thatch fell quiet again. Katie wasn't sure what to do, beyond sitting and listening, and so she sat, and she listened.

“She was not to be mine, at first. I was a neutral party, there to keep her alive and nothing more. Brought in despite my age because of a natural aptitude with exactly the kind of bioengineering she needed. The only way to stop her body from collapsing was to strengthen every part of it at once, otherwise all I would have achieved was causing something else to fail. I took a piece of myself and worked on it for weeks, producing a seed. A new version of our Haustoric Implant, that would merge with her body and keep her alive for the rest of a long, happy life.”

Thatch closed her hand around Katie's and held it close to the girl's chest. Katie had to ask. “Did it work?”

“In a sense, yes. Implantation went flawlessly. Thanks to her translucence, we could watch it grow in real time. The next few turnings of their world were a blur. She was not to be mine, but she chose me regardless, and I her. We had the paperwork. The clerks made it a work of art. Delicate Affini script with letters that glowed with their own translation in Caeca's tongue. We would have signed it... but her body was rejecting the implant. The two were fighting, and she was too weak to win. The only way for it to save her life was for it to take over entirely and her beautiful mind couldn't take the strain.”

Their hands dropped into Katie's lap, with a sense of finality.

Katie breathed out. “Fuck. Did you get to say goodbye?”

Thatch emitted a dark laugh, and shook her head. “She's still there, in a facility set up to care for those who needed to be put on class-Os. By the time I knew I would have to say goodbye it was too late. She was not truly there.”

Katie let out a ragged breath, feeling a tear rolling down her face. They were quiet together for long moments, before Katie finally found the words. “So she's happy, then, at least?”

“Endlessly,” Thatch breathed. “But only that. I ruined her. I made a cotyledon out of her. She was beautiful and we were going to visit every star in the sodding sky and I broke her so badly nobody can bring her back.”

“Did you have a choice, Thatch? One that wasn't simply letting her die? What would have happened to her if you hadn't done those things?” Katie dare not look up at her companion, for fear of damaging the gentle aura of stillness around them. It felt as if puncturing their bubble of safety could have Thatch unable to speak of this ever again.

Katie didn't get an answer for long moments. Only the slow rhythm of Thatch's heat let her know that she was still there. Only the wind slowly moving around them provided any sound at all.

It took long enough that Katie was about to try to prompt a response herself before Thatch next spoke.

“No. No, I did not.”

Katie nodded, pulling Thatch's hand back up to her chest and pressing it against her heart. “Could anybody else have done better?”

“I... would like to think so, yes. I do not want to imagine the same fate befalling any other. But... I think that there were none who could certainly have prevailed who were close enough to try before she passed away.”

Katie took a long breath, then let out a sigh. “But you still feel responsible?”

“I failed her. I took the promise my people had made—that she would be okay—and I made it a lie. Surely you can see how that is wrong, Katie? Surely you look upon the promises made by my people and now know them to be false. That we have dismantled your civilisation based on trickery. If one of us can be a failure, then there are surely more. I am an existential threat to our entire way of life.”

Katie couldn't hold in the laugh. She regretted it an instant later, but what was done was done. She could only continue. She turned herself around, kneeling in Thatch's lap so she could speak straight to her face.

“By the stars, the arrogance in that sentiment,” Katie breathed, jabbing a finger into the affini's chest. “You are not gods. You're blaming yourself for not saving every single sapient life in the universe? Get over yourself, Thatch. You did everything you could and it didn't work? That's life. You can't be perfect. You can't never screw up. I fucking knew that propaganda was bullshit, because you make yourselves seem flawless and inevitable and in control of absolutely everything.”

Katie drove the finger in deeper. “And you're not.”

And deeper. “You're just people. Flawed, imperfect people doing their best in a hostile universe and stop beating yourself up over that.”

Thatch had been curling into herself the whole conversation, losing height until the two of them were face to face, on the same level. She looked away, unwilling to meet Katie's eyes. “It could have been you,” she whimpered. “If we were five years later and you got unlucky, it could have been you withering away in a medical facility. It could have been you that didn't get saved. Nobody's opinion matters here but Caeca's and she can't give it to me.

Katie sighed, exploiting Thatch's diminutive stature to wrap her in a tight hug. “Can I forgive you? As the closest we have to her position here, I think she'd forgive you. You tried, and you made her last days happy. Why would she want you to suffer for that?”

Thatch's weave was tightening up. She managed a hiss. “She does not want anything now. She does not want to see the stars. She does not want to learn to speak. She wants for nothing. She is the worst version of herself and I can never make up for that which I have done.”

Katie let out a whimper, burying her head in her affini's shoulder. “I wouldn't be here at all without you. Does that count for nothing?”

A vine lifted her chin, to meet a pair of concerned eyes and a softer voice. “Of course it does, flower. You are the first good thing that has happened to me in fifty years.”

Katie sniffed. “But my opinion doesn't count, next to Caeca's?”

“I— I do not know. I have spent so long... I am sorry, I do not wish to make you feel unimportant.”

Katie interrupted. “You ass,” she laughed, through tears. “You total ass. I've been unimportant my whole life and you're the first person who's ever made me feel like I matter. I... You make me feel like I'm worth something. You make me feel good. I don't want to lose that.”

Thatch's face wavered, in an inhuman expression that Katie could, nonetheless, understand as a deep hesitation.

“Katie,” she eventually spoke, taking Katie's hand in one of hers and gently moving it away. “I can't keep you. I'm not ready for a pe—”

“—Damn right you can't keep me, you butt. Equals, remember? I'm not looking for a perfect guardian. I don't care if you're flawed. And, for the record? If this is as bad as the skeletons in your closet get, then maybe you guys should be in charge. Trying your best and failing is a hell of a lot better than what humanity was up to.”

Thatch let out a long breath, and stared down at the ground. “Thank you. I haven't told anybody this before. It... helped, perhaps.” Katie lifted her head back up, though she had to use both hands to do it, and left a short kiss on Thatch's forehead.

“Of course it did, dummy. You're the one who keeps talking about how sapient life is what matters most, right? Come down out of your ivory tower and talk to us, sometimes, yeah? We matter.”

The affini smiled, raising a hand to brush against Katie's cheek. “You matter more than anything. Thank you.”

The girl flushed, and turned away. “Right! Ready to get going again, maybe? We can still get a little further out before we need to turn back.”