Chapter Text
Avery Desconta hated his job.
That wasn't to say it was a bad one, by societal standards. Security guard for one of the quintillionaire elites was about as cushy as you could get without being born with a platinum spoon in your mouth; 90% of the job was standing around whatever poor saps his contract-owner was ordering around that week.
It took more effort to maintain the physique that let him walk in the armor than it took to actually do the damn job when things were going right. Unfortunately, few things had been going right since those damn plants had shown up.
Not that he'd seen combat or anything; his current employer was far too cowardly to have anything to do anywhere near Affini Space. He'd simply spent the last three months on the same starsdamned freighter, ferrying the luxury items of the week to the ass-end-of-nowhere safehouse the CEO of Zodiac Enterprises had hunkered down in.
Avery's eyes drifted over to the current cargo and snorted. What the hell a businessman-in-exile needed a Taubeel-82 Reaver-Class Luxury Moondancer for, he couldn't say. The man already had a dozen different sportships sitting in the bay of his safehouse, and the only reason they weren't gathering dust was because he'd dragged a half-hundred maids with him when he'd fled Terra.
But he wasn't paid to question orders; he was paid to follow them. So he squared his shoulders and stood guard by the vehicle that cost more than his own life.
The lights went purple as a synthetic voice came on the intercoms. "Jump Drive engaging in 10… 9… 8…"
Everyone in the bay began to run for something to grab onto or brace against.
"7… 6… 5… 4…"
The engineers had tied everything besides him down about an hour ago, when their final jump had first been announced.
"3… 2… 1…"
Avery frowned beneath his faceplate and engaged the grav clamps on his boots.
"Jump Drive engaging."
If you've never experienced hypermetric kick, imagine something like this: a ghost dropkicks you full-force in the chest. It doesn't actually hurt, it just feels like it should. What does hurt is being thrown against the nearest surface when physics gets confused about whether or not youre moving. Avery's powered armor stood him still in the midst of the engineers being flung every which way.
After a moment, the lights returned to their normal coloration, and everyone began to pick themselves up.
The lights immediately flared red as the ship shook in a distinctly different way, and Avery Desconta sighed. Of course they'd run into Weeds at the last possible second. Why the hell wouldn't they?
He shouldered his rifle and stayed where he was. He wasn't in the Cosmic Navy, it wasn't his job to fight a bunch of fucking aliens. His job was to make sure the stupid fucking spaceship behind him got to Halcyon-2b. His job was to make sure anyone who tried to stop it regretted it dearly.
So he stood there, as engineers and cargohands around him scrambled for… safety? stability? He couldn't really tell, since none of them really seemed to pull off whatever they were going for. Many poured into the corridors that would take them towards the bunks; more still went for the engine room.
After a few minutes of the ominous groaning of metal and shudders running down the entire ship, Avery found himself almost alone. He said almost because a single, panicked-looking engineer remained. Staring at him with wide, brown eyes.
He didn't bother raising an eyebrow; the smooth black helm of his suit and the compound sensors dotted across its front left him worse than faceless. "Got somewhere to be, kid?"
She shook her head silently.
He sighed. "I'm not gonna protect you, you know? It's against my contract. I'm just here for the cargo."
"Me too," she mumbled quietly.
He frowned, and hefted his weapon. He didn't point it at her yet, but the threat remained clear.
Her eyes widened, and she began waving her arms frantically. "No, not like that! The foreman just told me that if a single scratch ended up on the Taubeel that I wouldn't have to worry about the Weeds eating me cuz he'd space me himself. So I'm here, to watch it, and I want to double-check the magdock settings to make sure it doesnt get jostled too hard but I'm not sure how to do that without making you think I'm trying to steal it so- oh god I need to shut up I'm so sorry please dont shoot me."
Avery took a moment to look the engineer up and down. She was short and nervous and thin-but-not-frail, in a fully zipped blue jumpsuit that was certainly a size too large for her. He tilted his head and squinted as he read her nametag. "Well then, Miss… Zolket. Don't do anything stupid and you'll be fine."
She gave him a pained smile, then carefully plodded over to the docking console. After a few moments of fiddling, she nodded to herself, then began inspecting the Taubeel itself. The nervous energy seemed to disappear while she actually did her job- and then when she ran out of things to check, it came back in full force.
He glanced over to where she stood ramrod straight, three feet to his left and pointed in the same direction as him.
"What are you doing?" he eventually asked.
"Hoping that the Plants will think I look tastier than the Taubeel," came her response.
His mouth twisted beneath black steel. "I'm not sure it was ever confirmed they eat people," he admitted to her.
Just then, the shipwide intercom crackled to life.
"Hiya, Terrans! This is Ataraxia Phylaxis, 9th Bloom, she/her. Your adorable vessel has been captured by the Affini Compact, so please be good little cuties and sit tight for us! No need to do anything dangerous, we'll be right with you~"
The engineer looked up to him with dead eyes. "Guess we get to find out for sure."
He glanced at her, then back at the Taubeel. Then back at her. Then back at the Taubeel. "Fuck that," he eventually decided. "You know how to fly this thing?"
She looked back up at him. "Am I allowed to lie?"
He thought about their impending death-by-alien for a moment. "Please do."
She gave him another pained smile. "Yes."
He reached over to the door of the Taubeel and punched in the keycode. The door hissed open, and a small set of steps folded down to her feet. He sketched out a sarcastic bow,modelled after that one butler he'd seen back on Terra. "After you, then, Captain Zolket."
"Oh shit, I think I actually do know how to fly this thing!"
"Good, lets fucking go!"
"Give me a minute, I have to wait for the automated liftoff procedure to follow through or I'll void the warranty-"
"A PLANT ENTERED THE BAY, JUST FUCKING GO"
"Fine, fine. OHSHIT, VINE!"
"Hey, Zolket? Are you fucking seeing this shit? Why is their ship a fuckhuge space flower?"
"I'm a little busy avoiding the MURDER TENTACLES, BOSS!"
"I'm on it."
"Huh? Does this thing have guns?"
"This is the Taubeel-82, hailing… the giant space flower? We're trying to run away, please stop trying to kill us. Over."
"I'm sorry, did you just ask them to stop trying to kill us?"
"Hey, it could work-"
"This is the Affini Ship Junpei, hailing the cuties on board the Taubeel-82. Just wanted to clarify- we would never try to kill any sophont! We just wanted to give you a hug! You Terrans are just so adorable when you're terrified, but since you asked so politely I'll let you go- as long as you promise to keep in touch!"
"What the fuck?"
"Um… Taubeel-82 to Junpei… okay? Over?"
"Roger that! Good luck out there, cuties. If you ever get lonely, you can always come by and visit! I promise I'll take such good care of you!"
"…do you think all the aliens are this weird?"
"Lets just get out of here before they change their minds, yeah?"
Avery Desconta stared blankly out of the viewport of the Taubeel. Zolket nervously tapped her fingers together, glancing between him and the viewport as well.
Orbiting Halcyon-2b, the planet their boss lived on, was another starsdamned space flower, somehow bigger and more brightly colored than the Junpei. It even looked like it was geostationary, maintaining orbit directly over where Avery remembered his contract-owner's mansion was. This was not a good sign for his continued employment.
"Well, um," Zolket seemed to be stumbling through her words again, now that the adrenaline of piloting a ship through giant space vines trying to… hug? them? had faded. "The good news is, they seemed pretty open to diplomacy last time?"
Avery let out a bone-deep sigh and reached for the comms panel again.
"This is the Taubeel-82, hailing local Affini vessel."
"This is the Affini Ship Ylliaster, hailing Taubeel 82. You are speaking to Captain Azaelea Cattail, 17th Bloom, fae/faer. I see you've been designated as a Conditionally Independent Vessel by the Junpei, so what can I do for you cuties?"
"Oh, um. Avery Desconta… he/him, I guess? We were hoping to get in contact with Judas DuMarthe? CEO of Zodiac Enterprises? Got a ship for him."
They heard a strange, musical sort of giggle from the other end, before fae replied.
"Oh, you worked for him? This'll be a treat for you, then. Be a dear and open your visuals channel while I patch you through to his owner~"
Avery and Zolket exchanged a glance at the word 'owner,' but flicked on the video on their comms.
For a moment, the screen was dominated by a chaotic mass of cerulean vines, but it quickly switched over to a bizarrely domestic scene. A tall, wooden-faced plantwoman with a wide, floppy-brimmed hat sat on a sofa, with a human child laying across her legs. The child seemed to be playing with model spaceships, flying them through the air in his hands and making engine noises.
Wait. No. Hold on.
The plant woman was just fucking huge. That was not a child.
That was Judas DuMarthe. That was their fucking boss. Playing toys on the lap of one of the Affini.
What.
The Affini woman smiled pleasantly into the viewscreen. "Hello, darlings! My name is Yule Conifer, 12th Bloom, and I use she/her pronouns. Who might you all be?"
Avery gulped; he typically gave off the image of being confident, but that was simply because he knew the script for most interactions he had. The whole 'I am intimidating you' dynamic was really easy to establish and play into, and hailing ships was simple enough, but he had no idea how to approach anything that was happening now.
Oh well. In for a credit and all that.
"Um. Avery Desconta, uh. He/him? Sorry, um. We had a shipment for Mr. DuMarthe? This is his ship, actually."
Yule nodded slowly, then looked down at the man in her lap. "I see. Well, I'm afraid little Jude here is having enough fun with his own toys here, so we'll be quite alright. However, you used to work for him, correct?"
Avery and Zolket nodded.
Yule nodded sadly. "In that case, I think he actually has something he needs to say to you all." She put her hands on Judas' wrists and ran a set of vines along the back of his hands, coaxing him to drop the toy spaceships onto the couch besides them. She pulled him up to sitting upright in her lap, and faced him towards the viewscreen. "Come on, Jude. Just like we practiced."
And so, Judas DuMarthe, ex-quadrillionaire, looked Avery in the eyes and tearfully apologized for the evils of capitalism. It was… oddly verbose, as if he'd memorized a pamphlet explaining why hoarding resources for personal gain was bad, but it was completely and utterly heartfelt.
The rest of the call passed in a blur. At some point, the view had switched back to the mass of blue plant matter that seemed to be Captain Azaelea Cattail, whom Zolket probably thanked for faer help.
Eventually, the comms screen went dark, and Avery gazed blankly out the viewport of their ship.
It was their ship now, right? That Yule lady said they didn't want it.
The ship was worth more than Avery and Zolket's lives combined, and they didn't want it? He spent months on that freighter, and Zolket probably had too, and all that time and all that work and all that effort was… nothing.
Was he going to get paid? Was money even real anymore, if the Affini had convinced the guy who had 99.999% of it in the nearest dozen sectors that it sucked and he shouldnt use it?
It wasn't like Avery had been in a particularly bad spot. He wasn't broke, he could pay his damn bills, he just… didnt have a life. He just spent 24 hours a day, seven days a week, dancing to the whims of some asshole whose great-grandpa sent a colony ship to a uranium-heavy system two hundred years ago and stopped their entire family's contribution to society right there. And now that it was finally over, he wasnt even sure he'd gotten anything out of it?
A loud clap in front of his face made him jump.
He turned to glare at Zolket, who looked at him with concern. "Hey. Dude. We gotta keep it together."
Avery took a deep breath, then stared back out into space. "What the hell do we do, now?"
His suit's motion sensors detected her scrunching her face. "I'd been hoping you had an idea," she admitted.
He leaned all the way back in his chair and sighed. "I think we can probably consider this vacation time…"
Zolket pulled her feet up into her own chair. "I'm a 12th engineer, Avery. That's bottom rung. I've never had vacation time in my life."
"I had a week, once," he said wistfully. "I slept the entire time. It was awesome."
"Dude," she sideeyed him. "I think you just have depression. I'm also not driving this thing for a week alone."
Avery slammed a fist into his palm with a metallic clang. "Thats it! We finally have time! I know I have money in my accounts somewhere, so it's not like we're broke. We can go to a doctor and get a normal checkup! I've never properly done one of those, never had time. It's just been workplace injury consultations all the way down."
Zolket eyed him suspiciously. "We're suddenly off work, and your first thought is to go to the doctors?"
Avery grinned. "I bet the list of things wrong with me is gonna be longer than yours!"
Zolket snarled. "Oh, you fucking wish, you boilerplate-ass motherfucker! My shoulder's been making wierd noises since I was six!"
"Yeah? Well I've been spending some time with a 12th engineer lately and she says she thinks I have depression!"
Zolket's eyes flattened. "Fuck off. We're settling this right now."
Avery stroked the chin of his faceplate with his bulky armoured hands. "The medbay that I know takes my insurance is about two systems out and this thing doesnt have a Jump Drive…"
Zolket looked at him, then glanced out their viewport at the mind-bogglingly huge space flower that was the Ylliaster.
"No," he said, "They're sketchy as hell."
"They seem to have a raging hate-boner for capitalism," she reasoned, "so our insurance might not even matter."
"They're aliens! Do they even have terran doctors?"
Zolket shrugged and flipped the switch on the comms unit that was sure to haunt Avery's nightmares. "Still on the line, cap'n?"
"Of course," came Captain Azaelea Cattail's melodic voice. "What else can I do for you cuties?"
"We were just wondering," Zolket jammed a screwdriver between the plates of Avery's hand and leveraged it away from the comms unit, "if you potentially had a free medbay and doctors that know how to treat terrans?"
"Is one of you injured? Is this an emergency?" The amusement and teasing dropped from the Affini's voice entirely.
"No immediate injuries," Avery barked out as his training took over, then sighed. "We just wanted to get checkups but we're stuck in-system for now."
"In that case, we'd love to have you," the captain simpered. "I can go ahead and let one of our vets know you'll be by."
Zolket and Avery glanced at each other.
"Um," Zolket spoke awkwardly, "That… won't be neccessary? We're not military…?"
There was a moment of garbled frequencies that seemed to be the natural Affini language between at least two aliens, before they heard faer laughter. "Oh, I see! Terran wordplay is quite amusing! I meant 'vet' as in 'xenoveterinarian', our medical specialists who take care of xenosophont species like you cuties~"
Zolket frowned and mouthed 'wordplay' to herself confusedly.
"That'll be fine, then," Avery flexed his hand and slipped it free of the screwdvieer. "Do we have your word that we'll be free to leave unmolested afterwards?"
Captain Cattail paused. "I give you my word that we will take no actions to impede your departure from the Ylliaster," fae said carefully.
Zolket frowned. "That doesn't exclude spacing us or shipping us off on one of your vessels…"
Fae gasped. "Oh, roots no! We will take no actions that could negatively impact your physical or mental health! We just want to make sure every sophont gets to be their best self- but that's something I'm sure you'll be hearing more about~"
Zolket tapped her fingers against her arm for a moment, before flicking off the comms unit.
"That's sketchy as hell." Avery immediately declared.
She looked at him. "Listen, dude. I get it. They're freakin' aliens, and they did… whatever they did… to the big boss. But also? We're kind of stuck in this system without a Jump Drive, and they're not gonna leave, and its not like we can live in this thing forever. We're gonna have to take this step no matter what, its just a matter of how desperate we're getting beforehand."
Avery began to nod slowly. "Right… may as well take the plunge while we're at the top of our game."
Zolket nodded, then awkwardly began tapping the tips of her fingers together. "Now, um. I wasn't gonna say anything before, but. It might be a good idea to, you know, ditch the war rig?"
Avery shook his head. "I can't."
She crossed her arms. "I know that they're super sketchy but we wanna be as nonthreatening as possible for this!"
Avery held up a hand. "No, I know. I just, you know, can't."
She stared at him flatly. "What?"
Rather than explain, he simply began the suit's removal protocol. With mechanical whirs and clanks, the armor shifted and began to peel away from his upper body.
And with a pair of clicks, released from Avery's arm sockets.
"Oh," said Zolket.
"Yeah," Avery agreed. "My personal use prosthetics were still on the freighter."
Zolket frowned. "Can we just, take the arms off the suit?"
"Nope," he popped the p as the suit latched back onto him. "too heavy, they'll rip out my sockets without the rest of it to support them."
She nodded and reached into her utility belt. "Alright then, time for plan B."
The landing bay of the Ylliaster was about as verdant as one would expect a giant space flower spaceship to be, with distant ceilings that somehow shone with daylight and vast paved walkways that would be more in place in a garden than in space.
The bay was bustling with more forms of life than they'd ever seen; Affini and Terrans certainly made up the majority, but there were three-eyed fox-people, moth centaurs, bee-people, even… floating jellyfish?
"This is stupid," said Avery as he finally stepped out of the Taubeel.
"If it's stupid but works, it isn't stupid," declared Zolket cheerfully.
Avery glanced down at his arms again, and almost felt physical pain at the thought of how expensive it would be to clean off the hundreds of tiny little neon hearts and flowers the engineer had doodled across the black armor plating. He made a mental note to avoid mirrors and windows so he wouldn't have to acknowledge the giant goofy smiley face she'd drawn between the sensors on his helmet.
"Oh, are you the cuties from the Taubeel?" A large mass of plant matter Avery's suit had dismissed as 'environmental' began to move towards them, setting off warning pings.
The visual feeds showed him that it took the shape of a tall, generously proportioned woman with a dark, woven face and waves of fiery red flowers for hair. Her eyes were… faceted, almost gemlike, with motes of pale green light drifting in vaguely spiral paths. She pinched the cascade of pale vines that hung from her hips and raised it in imitation of an old-Terran curtsey.
"I am Dahlia Sage, 2nd bloom, she/her. Captain Azaelea Cattail sent me to greet you, and I must say it is a pleasure!" Her words were musical, but not in the same way as the Captain's; while faer words were evocative of wind chimes with their harmonious randomness, Dahlia spoke low and steady, like a lullaby.
While Zolket blushed furiously and stumbled over her words, Avery contemplated the Affini silently. This was his first time seeing one in person, and the readings were fascinating. Infrared and ultraviolet analysis each showed different visual patterns on the surfaces of her petals and vines, while thermal imaging showed that her heat seemed to be concentrated at a single point somewhere in her chest region.
Eventually, he noticed that both of them were looking at him expectantly. He coughed into a mechanical fist (pointlessly, since it wouldn't get past his faceplate, but the body language helped to keep him feeling human). "Uh, Avery Desconta, he/him? And it's nice to meet you too."
Dahlia beamed and patted his head with a motion that would have ruffled his hair if he weren't wearing a helmet. That being said, it was very interesting to watch heat surge up her vines as she reached out towards him… did they actively mimic body heat when interacting with Terrans? That was kinda cool.
"I must say," she spoke in her quietly sing-song voice, "I adore what you've done with your plating."
Avery slumped over; that meant it actually was working. "Thanks, I guess. It's Zolket's handiwork, so please direct all compliments to her."
Dahlia smiled slyly. "Oh, while it certainly is excellent penmanship, I'm afraid its true value would go unnoticed were it not for how beautifully you wear it~"
What.
That just, didn't make sense? He was a hulking faceless monolith of black metal, and if anything it was wearing him! Why was his face going warm? Why was Zolket snickering at him- okay, she wasn't anymore now that Dahlia was scratching under her chin- but in what reality did those words make sense to string together?
"Hm," he said eloquently in response, then put it out of his mind and soldiered on. "Now, I believe we were here to see one of your… xenoveterinarians, was it?"
"Of course," Dahlia demurred, pulling back the vines that had been toying with the engineer and drawing herself back up to her full height- roughly 12 feet, his HUD helpfully informed him.
Zolket shot him a halfhearted glare, still blushing furiously. He quickly flashed her a peace sign; as close to a smug grin as he could get without a face. There would be time to be a lesbian later, he was sure.
There would be time for Zolket to be a lesbian later, is what Avery meant. Which was surely obvious, both in context and not in context. Anyone he said those words to would immediately understand what he meant when he said that, and he wasn't quite sure in what scenario he would feel the need to make that distinction.
What a strange train of thought.
He shook his head and hurried to catch up with the Affini and his engineer.
"What you have to understand is that, for a post-scarcity society, the question of how you allocate your resources is almost comically easy to answer," Dahlia was explaining to Zolket, the speed of the words bringing her rhythm up to a jaunty lilt. "We find that concepts like 'money,' 'value,' and even what someone 'deserves' just serve to complicate things. It's much easier to just, make sure everyone gets what they want?""
Zolket screwed up her face. "But what if someone asked for, like, a rod of uranium? or exotic matter?"
Dahlia tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Well, the first thing we'd ask is, of course, why they would want that? If a feralist was asking for parts to make a bomb we'd obviously just domesticate them, but if we found out that it was a sophont who was interested in nuclear physics we'd make sure they had a way to do what they want to do safely! As for exotic matter, I know one of our ships has a group of florets who like to tinker with their own Jump Drives, so its certainly not out of the picture."
"And what, exactly, is a floret?" Avery cut in.
The Affini smiled. "Why, its only the cutest kind of sophont in the universe!" That she patted his head again was not a good sign.
He crossed his arms. "I'm not stupid, ma'am. Can I have a real answer?"
Dahlia gave a theatrical sigh that was betrayed by her brilliant grin. "If I must. A floret is, essentially, a sophont who is completely and utterly cared for by one of us Affini, to the degree that all rights and responsibilities are waived in favor of what their owner thinks is best for them! But it's also so much more than that. Florets are a way of life; the cornerstone and raison d'être of the Compact! Take a look around!" she spread her arms and spun, flinging crimson petals into the air.
They'd followed Dahlia into the ship proper, and were now standing in the middle of a bustling street. A clear blue sky shone overhead, shimmering with otherworldly patterns that Avery's subconscious assured him was nothing to worry about. Trees and flowers and bushes were plentiful, with the occasional brick building with vines running across their walls. It was almost impossible to tell they were even on a spaceship.
"Florets are the driving force behind everything you see here! Every vine, every bolt, every scrap of technology we have was created to better the life of a floret! Compilers, Xenodrugs, the Haustoria- and yes, even our Jump Drives and Firebreaks were created solely for the benefit of those objects of our affections!" She brought her hands up to her chest and swooned. "Every single Affini in the Compact is full of love to bursting, and florets are the ultimate, universal symbol of that love!"
She grabbed Zolket by the hand and dragged her over to a fully naked Terran girl, cheerfully crawling on all fours on a leash held by an Affini. "Look at this floret! She's such a good girl!"
She dissolved into a pile of vines, rushing across the ground to scoop Avery up into her grasp, lifting him ten feet in the air to bring him face-to-face with a bee-person dopily buzzing through the air after their owner. "Look at this floret! They're so fluffy and cute!"
She put Avery back on the ground, putting an arm around his shoulders as she shot out vines to pull Zolket flush with her other side. She zipped into an alley, bringing the three of them right up to a beefy, bare-armed Terran with a sleeveless leather jacket and a luminous, electric blue tattoo dominating half their face. "Look at this floret! Isn't it just adorable how cool xey are?"
The punk floret grinned and flipped them off. Dahlia sent out a vine to pat xem on the head before bringing Avery and Zolket back to the main street.
"A wise Affini philosopher once said, 'there are as many kinds of florets as there are florets,'" Dahlia orated, twirling away from the two of them- only to stop in the center of the street, hand outstretched to the sky. "And in my three hundred and fifty-seven years of study, I have found these words to be completely and utterly correct. There are as many florets as there are stars in the sky, each of them coreshatteringly unique- and I need to hug each and every one of them!"
She wiggled her hips in excitement for a moment, faceted eyes flashing a brilliant cascade of baby-blues, pinks, and oranges before gradually slowing back to her normal green. She cleared her throat and turned back to them with a fragile smile. "I hope that was sufficiently informative?"
"That…" Zolket trailed off for a moment. "No, yeah, that does answer all the questions I was going to have."
"Very educational," agreed Avery.
Dahlia beamed at them. "I'm glad! Now, we're almost at the vet, but did you have any more questions?"
"Just one," Avery said. "If your resource allocation system is 'whatever you want,' what are the chances I could get my hands on a fresh set of prosthetics while I'm here? Only pair I have are built into the suit, ergo me walking around in it."
The Affini looked down at him. "Allow me to be as clear as possible, darling: we would be honored to provide whatsoever you may desire." She leaned down close to his black-plated face and grinned, eyes swirling with pink and gold. "All you need to do is ask~"
Almost faster than his suit's sensors could detect, she was back to standing at her full height. "That being said, prosthetics tend to lie more towards the expertise of our vets than myself- I'll be sure to inform them you're interested." She led them to a tall, airy-looking building.
Avery's eyes roamed the various window clings and glyphs across the front of the building- this 'vet' seemed to have foregone traditional signage in favor of plastering their windows with cute cartoon sophonts with bandages on their various extremeties and holding lollipops. The only legible text was a neon pink "Terrans Welcome!" placed just above comfortable reading height on the door.
Dahlia reached out with a vine and held the door open, even as it rang a tiny bell mounted to the frame. "After you, petals~"