Chapter Text
Chapter 1- Talking to myself
I look down at my watch, hour 96 of my shift, 24 hours left. I sigh, getting back to work mindlessly replacing engine parts laying under a downed spacecraft. Truth be told I enjoyed shifts like these, normally I was a combat mechanic so I kept up gear after it was deployed while on the front myself, but when big space battles happened they needed all hands on deck to have as many flying shitboxes as they could have. I push myself out from the bottom of the jet, slowly standing back up and moving to the front replacing the socket on my wrench.
[Undercarriage is 14mm, engine is 10mm]
My mind buzzes, as I work. Rapidly going through the things I had already missed this morning, I lost my socks, my phone was completely dead and worst of all I forgot to shave, I hissed as my hand felt the stubble on my face, even if its still not visible, the feeling of it alone made me want to vomit. A feeling I was all too familiar with. My watch buzzed, meal break time.
Another lovely day to eat a synth cube and cut your break in half isn't it?
I chuckle at the thought, i separate myself into two voices in my head, distinct in their own ways but still me, no one else was worth talking to so I might as well just be my own company
Might as well, machines are easier than people
[Yeah but it'd be nice to have someone to talk to every now and again, I can't keep living in my own head like this]
That voice sounds like my brother… But my own thoughts have run off from my control as they keep their back and forth going.
Why not? I’ve made it this far.
[It's not healthy, not sustainable. At least when clive was around we had someone]
I vaguely recognize myself entering the mess hall
So? I’m an infantry mechanic, it doesn’t need to sustain me for a full lifetime, just until I get shot in the head or blown up.
[That’s gruesome, and to be completely honest I don’t think that’ll happen. I know what to do when shit hits the fan, I’ve always known what to do. So I’ll keep doing that and I’ll live.]
I feel myself chewing a synthcube and hazily making my way back to the docking bay. I was completely lost in thought; my movements were automatic and almost mechanical. I had the proper procedures burned into my very muscle fibers, every replacement and every fix seemed distant as I continued to think.
I wasn't even born into the right body, what makes you think I’ll be lucky enough to survive this? Terra is at war with both the invincible plant people and the ‘dissidents at home!’ and I’ve been being thrown between the two fronts for the past god knows how long.
[I still have hope, just because Clive is dead doesn’t mean I can just stop moving!]
I was screaming mentally now, a ringing began in my ears but that eventually made way for static to envelope my whole being. My body continued marching away like the good soldier it was.
My brother was what I kept moving because of, now it's just muscle memory
[WOULD HE WANT ME TO DIE? JUST TO LAY DOWN AND ACCEPT BEING TRAMPLED?]
I felt my hand tense around something soft that shouldn't be there, I pulled at it, it broke, I continued to work unbothered.
What does it matter what he wants? He’s dead.
An enormous thud snapped me from my stupor as I whipped around. I realized what I had grabbed earlier was a vine.
[FUCK]
The voices combined back into one complex creature within me. I looked around expecting to see a host of panicking Navymen scrambling for their weapons, instead I was met with sleeping soldiers laying on the floor of the bay. My mind raced within itself searching for an answer.
[ Class-Z, it's an Affini depressant, it induces the rate at which sleep chemicals are produced. My brain not only heavily underproduces those chemicals but is incredibly resistant to them… Even so, harsher sleep inducing agents still work on me. Natural resistance to xenodrugs? ]
I cut my own train of thought off, [ Doesn’t matter. I need to move. ]
I ran through the bay, scrambling up to the airlock that separated the section where takeoff happens.
I doubt I can outrun them even in a jet
[Can or can't, I’ll try]
I entered my security code but the door jams as it opens, through the cracks in the panels I can see there’s vines stopping the gears. I jam my fingers into the gap and try and force it open pulling with my full bodyweight only got it to move about a quarter inch.
Guess thats that huh
[Fuck me, man…]
God even the determined little voice in my head is apathetic
[I weigh 125 pounds soaking wet at 6 '1, what am I gonna do? Knock it down?]
Something else takes over and I try kicking the door, over and over again. I hear the dull snap of my tibia as my foot connects with it wrong. But the adrenaline and the ungodly concoction of stimulants in my body already I couldn’t feel more than a numb buzzing to it.
Fair enough, guess I can’t knock it down.
[What the stars was that?!]
An attempt to get me out of here
I sigh as I walk back to my work station, trying to keep my weight to my unbroken left side, sitting on the table. I put my hand on my hip, my gun is there… I close my eyes and raise the weapon to my temple. The smooth barrel felt cold against my head, I havent used this gun in a long time, not since..
[ Don’t think about that ]
For a moment I swear I catch the scent of fire and soot mixed with blood and rot.
*Click*
Nothing.
“Jammed. Damn.”
[Do we really deserve a good ending?]
My voice is deeper than I would like, but that's not really important anymore. None of it is. I lazily toss the gun aside.
Funny, isn’t it? I’m the last one standing again.
[You’re a goddamn nag y’know that]
That's why I made myself, I'm the rational introspective cynic, I keep myself alive in situations like this. You’re the hopeful bastard who is gonna keep me alive when my brain is being a jackass.
[I know why I made me, but it’d still be nice to be peaceful in the last few moments alive and rational]
Do I deserve that?
[No, I don't.]
The voices came back together and quieted down as my cigarette began to burn my fingertips, I sigh putting it out on my workstation
[I wish my phone was charged, at least then I could do fuckin something]
After a long moment of silence wrapped in my own head I hear the shuffling of foliage as a large woman shaped plant walks… no shambles, shambles in. She's definitely a she… I think? Deliberate curves shaped at where the hips and chest would be, long flowing hairlike vines along with a soft and caring face, all of it a mix of greenery and what looks to be a darker shade of oak wood. Truthfully she was gorgeous.
I always knew thick women would be my downfall.
[Strangely human looking ain’t she?]
In their true forms they’re amorphous, she just wants us to lower our guard
[Not like a fight would have any point to it]
She's making soft humming noises, a melodic vibration coming more from her core than her head, looking over the sleeping bodies of my crewmates but the moment she spots me it abruptly ends. From the depths of her foliage I can make out the two glowing violet orbs in her head that I guess are her eyes. In an equally singsong voice as her melody she speaks in Terran, “Oh my dear little petal you shouldn’t be awake! Well in any case I am Vivian Mint, she/her 28th bloom. You must be quite unresponsive to Z class drugs little cutie”
As she speaks she extends several vines towards me petting my face while another ruffles my hair, it's a rough texture that pulls on my skin. It reminds me of scar tissue. I hate the way it feels. I pull away from the touch, much to the dismay of the Affini who makes a low tuned noise, It must be her language. “Please don’t touch me.”
She sings back at me, “But why? Do you not like the pets? I was being oh so gentle wasn’t I?”
I scoot further away before speaking again, “No, the texture is just unpleasant. I also just don’t enjoy being touched in general”
Play along. Don’t piss her off. She can and will take your head off if you resist. Same as the rinans were, no, the same as I am.
“Ah, I see petal. I apologize if I caused you any distress.”
“No its fi-”
I’m interrupted by a vine shooting into my mouth to stop me from speaking, this time covered in an interlaced pattern of leaves, softer, I didn’t mind the texture.
“It is not fine! If I caused you discomfort then it is completely not fine! And clearly by that look you are discomforted!” She began to huff and pick me up, the vines still covered in her leaves. “Now petal, I’m going to have to give you some more potent Xenodrugs so you fall asleep, would you rather it be a needle or a flower?” she removes the vine from my mouth still holding me… Preventing escape. As she does she raises two different vines, one with a needle at the end and one with a purple flower.
“Listen, truthfully and genuinely I'm fine either way. I could give less of a fuck to how I d-” Her vine shot back into my mouth stopping from finishing my sentence again.
She huffs her eyes turning a sort of reddish color “Well for that little display of profanity you’re getting the needle regardless… Unless you’re afraid of needles, are you afraid of them?” Her vines were now petting my hair, even with the question she refused to remove the tendril from my mouth so i just give a placid shrug.
Doesn’t matter, I’m dead here either way.
There's a sharp pinch in my leg as my vision starts to darken at the edges, but I remain conscious. A voice screaming at me, an old voice I remember well. A voice that kept me alive.
YOU ARE A SOLDIER! MOVE GODDAMNIT!
I try to wiggle and force my way out but my body is starting to fail on me, not allowing even a fraction of my strength to be put behind my actions. I feel myself get pulled closer to the weed getting cradled in its foliage.
ONLY WHEN YOU STOP FIGHTING DOES A SOLDIER DIE. MOVE!
I try to punch, my arm does not move
MOVE!
I try to kick, my leg does not move.
MOVE!
I keep getting pulled in further, the Affini whispering things I can no longer make out to me.
I try to bite, my jaw does not move.
MOVE GODDAMNIT I SAID MOVE!
The other voices harmonize
[That’s the only thing you’ve ever said]
The voice loses its edge
If we stop moving… we die.
I feel pulled back as the vines around me tighten, a flower appearing over my chest pointed at my face, “Hmmmm. You are a very strange little sophont, the drugs should’ve knocked you out already.” She continues to pet me as she speaks, “The flower should be able to give you that little step over the edge of sleepiness, Ill add more than just class Z’s this time to make sure though!” She makes a trilling harmonic noise, a giggle maybe?
The last thing I can make out before I get consumed by the drugs, “It just means I get a good excuse to carry a little precious trinket like you around for a while~”
Fuck
[Fuck]
NO!
“Fu-”
I blink, and I’m standing in an all too familiar place. Back where I grew up, it was dingy and smelled like cigarette smoke, booze and slightly expired food left on the counters. I was at the entrance way, a small dip in the otherwise even flooring of the 1 floor apartment. I look down, I’m an adult, or an older teen at least, regardless I’m much older than I was when I was here.
I kick my shoes off and walk further in, looking around it seems only a slight bit cleaner than it ever was.
[I guess not even my dreaming brain can make it that messy]
The memory was soft, there was no rain, no shouting. Not even a gunshot rang out, I knew I was dreaming. I make a particular effort not to touch anything as I stride to my destination, the couch. Sitting down swinging my legs up to lay on it, it wasn't nearly long enough to contain me so my head and lower legs sank off each end. It was soft.
[Luxury]
Luxury
“Luxury at last.”
This dream probably meant something, it was quiet. And it was strange, but at the same time safe. I take a deep breath as a warmness spreads in my chest, then begin falling into my own head.
[I wish this wasnt a dream]
Yeah but it is, and we know that
[So? I’m still gonna enjoy this]
Damn you think I won’t?
I chuckle to myself looking around, my fathers apartment was just about the same as it always was. The coffee table was littered with magazines and the old TV was on a far older shelf named after something Swedish I couldn't pronounce. It was cleaner than it was though, the pile of clothes was smaller, and the expired food sitting on the black countertop was less rotten.
Couldn’t you even dream of something cleaner? Didn’t I wanna be a captain at one point? I should’ve dreamed of that room.
[Nah, this is like… familiar. It’s not really that amazing but it's safe. I was happy here.]
Here? Of all fucking places I was not happy here.
[It’s the best we had.] The voice became cold, not admitting defeat but planting it’s words deep.
[This is the best it ever was and ever will be. It may not be much but it means something to me. It’s a fond memory and it’s even better when looking at it through rose colored lenses]
I blinked myself out of it, I don’t like arguing with myself… something about it always felt off. The voices were both me, all of them were. They were the same person but just separated. Emotions that were too conflicting to reasonably be in one sane person at the same time. Shaking my head I come back to reality. I look up from my position to the white popcorn ceiling and blink. The scene completely changes. I know I’m awake.