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When a feralist ship with a grim cargo ends up in Affini custody, her old life and present domestication will come to a head.

Sequel to Dark Forest Hypothesis


Visit my website to see where else you can find my work, follow my socials, join my Discord, or support me on Patreon/SubscribeStar!", "writing": "Steff felt her teeth clatter violently as she gripped the support bars of her coffin with a white-knuckle desperation. At least, it felt like a coffin, a small box of dark metal and navy-blue crash cushions, barely lit by a few digital interfaces which were reading off various figures. She ignored most of them, feeling her attention focus exclusively on her rapidly shrinking altitude, watching hundreds of metres bleeding away far too quickly for her liking.\n\nShe didn't need to read it to know that they were well into the mesosphere at this point, maybe even lower than that. The turbulence always started to get real nasty at this point as the air outside the pod grew thicker and thicker with every kilometer she cut through it in a fiery streak.\n\nIt grew hot inside of the capsule with the plasma sparking off the heatshield almost seeming to bleed through. The air felt thick enough to have substance with the smell of glue and old metal burning her nostrils with a chemical tinge.\n\nIt felt like this thing was honestly held together with hopes, dreams, and more than a little wishful thinking. Probably explained why so many of them cratered into the ground.\n\nDon't think about that, don't think about that...\n\n``Wish they'd drop us on a planet without an atmosphere for once,'' Billy snarled over the radio, his own pod somewhere out there beyond the metal.\n\nVeronica cackled. ``I prefer being able to breathe the air, thank you very much.''\n\n``Plus, we need air to slow us down, dipshit,'' Steff ribbed.\n\n``Could be worse,'' Sarge bellowed. ``My first drop was on a planet with a very active volcano. Got shot right through an ash plume and was coughing up a lung the entire campaign.''\n\nSteff scoffed. ``Did you have to climb uphill both ways too?''\n\n``I sure did,'' Sarge said. Even he sounded strained by the descent. ``Had to bash the damn bugs with rocks while I was at it too. We didn't have nice things like guns back then.''\n\nEveryone laughed at that though none of their mirth felt particularly boisterous at this moment.\n\n``Wish they'd find someone to replace Zhu already,'' Billy grumbled.\n\n``Why?'' Veronica asked. ``Means we don't need to share as many kills.''\n\n``High command is slow with finding us a replacement,'' Sarge said. ``Apparently, not many troopers like the idea of being crammed inside of a drop pod and shot at a planet. Still... I heard that we'll be getting ourselves a real rookie next drop.''\n\n``Oh joy,'' Steff chided.\n\nThe front sheet of her coffin suddenly sheared right off, causing the whole thing to horrifyingly wobble and spasm as it violently swung back and forth. It was mere degrees away from tumbling out of control but the engineering held steady by some miracle, keeping her thankfully heading towards the ground feet first.\n\nThere was a battle taking place down below with tracers cutting through the dark expanse of the poorly lit planet. The evidence of what the first wave was encountering as many fires dotted the industrial compound they were being sent into.\n\n``Quick recap,'' Sarge said. ``Hostiles are labour agitators claiming they want better working conditions for them and the chipmunks here.''\n\n``Lazy bastards,'' Billy jeered.\n\nSarge chuckled. ``Not everyone is used to an honest day's work, Sheridan. But that's why we're here. To help them see what an honest day can do to a person's work ethic. The B-52s have already cleared out the compound and the first wave is engaged with whatever's left. Our mission is to go in and support them in the clean-up operation. Shouldn't be too much down there aside from a few stubborn holdouts.''\n\n``Rules of engagement?'' Veronica asked.\n\n``Command has given us permission to liquidate any assets that we may deem necessary,'' Sarge replied. ``They want this to be a proper lesson for the workers.''\n\n``Oorah,'' Billy said, unable to keep the smile out of his voice.\n\n``B-52s?'' Steff asked, shaking her head with the limited ability she had to do so. ``Are the flyboys really still using those?''\n\n``Got an upgrade package that's supposed to keep it in the air until at least the end of the century,'' Veronica said.\n\n``Cheap bastards,'' Billy jeered. ``How long can they really keep those things airborne for?''\n\nFor a rare moment, Steff actually agreed with him.\n\nShe couldn't focus on that oddity for too long however. The air suddenly became even thicker and the pod rumbled with far more viciousness than before. The air inside was now downright toasty with beads of sweat prickling at her skin. A small fan kicked in, blowing slightly cooler air at her face. But it was about as effective as bringing a thimble to combat a forest fire.\n\nThis was where a pod would fail. This was where one in twenty droptroopers slammed into the ground at a considerable fraction of Mach Two.\n\nDo not think about that!\n\nThankfully, her pod cooperated as the fins on top of it suddenly snapped open, adding to the air resistance. She was slowing down, even if it didn't really feel like it with how quickly the ground was approaching.\n\n``Fins deployed!'' Steff barked.\n\nVeronica grunted. ``Ditto.''\n\n``Same here,'' Billy added.\n\nSarge laughed. ``Glad we're not about to have another Zhu on our hands.'' A pause. ``Thirty seconds until chutes!''\n\nThirty seconds had never felt longer in Steff's life. Whatever was left on the ground had taken notice of the marines cutting through the atmosphere as lines of tracers suddenly reached up into the sky. None of them came anywhere close to her but it wasn't hard to imagine a lucky shell shearing off a part of her craft and killing her before she was even aware of it. Stranger things had happened.\n\nThe chutes deployed just as the ground grew so terribly close. In a moment, she was forced towards the very bottom of her pod. She was only kept upright by her restraints and the gel cushion which ballooned outwards and squeezed her from every direction in a crushing embrace. \n\nRegardless, even these measures couldn't save her poor knees as they ached under the pressure of briefly feeling five times heavier than usual. She swore that one of these days the deceleration was going to rip her prosthetic right out of its socket with how much it ached.\n\n``Ten seconds until impact!'' Sarge barked, the strain evident in his voice.\n\nTen... nine... eight...\n\n``Doesn't seem that those flyboys softened them up at all,'' Veronica growled.\n\nSeven... six... five...\n\nBilly chuckled. ``Just wanted to give us something to do. Scared of a few farmers with rifles?''\n\nFour... three... two...\n\n``Got more than just rifles, Sheridan,'' Sarge said, chuckling as if this was somehow a joke. ``You can thank the Civilian Defense Program for that!''\n\nOne...\n\nA set of boosters suddenly kicked in, slowing the craft down once final time. Steff once more groaned as she yet again ached until the sudden increase in weight, feeling her guts trying their damnedest to crawl their way up her throat.\n\nTHUD!\n\nThere was a sharp hiss as the front plate depressurized and exploded right off of the capsule, jettisoning forward and smashing into a rock directly in front of her.\n\nEvery part of Steff's body wanted to stay put and relax but it seemed that the pod was ready for this sort of lethargy. There was a sharp prick in the side of her neck and suddenly this ice-cold liquid shot right into her veins. In less than a second, she was lunging forwards, feeling her attention narrow and her ability to fight God suddenly increase ten-fold. Her heart hammered far quicker than before with this metallic taste brewing at the back of her throat.\n\nShe quickly ripped her rifle out of its holster and took aim, putting herself behind the rock her capsule cover had crumpled against. As she looked to the side, she saw that Sarge and Billy were rushing over. And on her other side was Veronica. All of them had apparently landed safely.\n\nSmall miracle...\n\nThe darkness suddenly blossomed with violent light as a machine gun rattled from up ahead. Tracers flew directly above them and Steff forced herself down along with the others. The air smelled of burnt ozone, showing her how close one of those rounds had come to clipping her.\n\nSarge scoffed. ``Nice of them to set up a welcome for us.'' He pulled out a small tube from his breast pocket and twisted it open, extracting a long brown cigar from inside. He lifted it up and a tracer slammed into the tip, causing it to snap off while also igniting the dried plant matter. At which point, he bit off the other end and stuck it between his teeth, casually puffing upon it. ``Cruz, think you can hit it with a grenade?''\n\nVeronica laughed as she slotted one into the underbarrel of her rifle. She didn't have to say a thing as the other three all took aim and fired down range, laying down a blanket of suppressing fire and briefly silencing the enemy gun. \n\nThere was a pop from Veronica's direction as something rapidly arched towards that MG. It was followed a few seconds later by a large fiery bang from where that gun had just been posted.\n\n``Nice shot,'' Billy said, thumping her on the back.\n\nVeronica nodded and got up, pushing ahead and marching towards the signs of battle off in the distance. ``Think I fragged any chipmunks?''\n\n``Guess we'll find out in a second,'' Steff said, levelling her gun and advancing as well. She grinned as she watched that MG's former post blazing like a bonfire. ``Heard they taste good.''\n\nAs they crossed that small field, she saw that they weren't the first marine drop team which had come this way. There were five corpses, resting motionless and face down on the ground. Puddles of muddy blood pooled around them and it didn't take a genius to figure out that they had likely been cut to ribbons by the same gun which had just attempted to turn them into mincemeat.\n\nSarge grunted. ``Leave them, we need to focus on the objective.''\n\nBilly sneered. ``No prisoners.''\n\n``We haven't got that order yet,'' Veronica said.\n\n``Liquidate any assets we see fit,'' Billy said, scoffing. ``Remember?''\n\nNot even Steff could bring herself to argue with that perspective. A fact which was only reinforced as they stumbled upon another group of drop pods which had been hosed down with even more gunfire. Four corpses hung from the mangled metal and crash cushions, burning as they crackled in the flames.\n\n``Jesus Christ,'' Steff hissed.\n\nSarge nodded, puffing on his cigar. ``War ain't pretty.''\n\nSteff suddenly wished that she had one as well in order to mask the smell.\n\n``Those flyboys better hope that I don't find them,'' Veronica grumbled. ``This situation is fucked.''\n\nThere was a crunch from beside them and Steff whipped around, turning to face them.\n\nOver the ridge came a group of men glad in battered overalls, wearing mining helmets and union pins. They were leveling archaic weapons at the group as they rushed ahead, firing wildly in uncontrolled bursts. \n\nOne of these bullets dinged off of Steff's metallic arm, prompting her to duck to the side.\n\nThe gap between the two groups was closing fast and Steff watched as one of them put her right in their sights. Her blood ran cold as she felt herself caught out of position, feeling her grip upon her gun grow so woefully clammy.\n\n``Ambush!'' Billy shouted as he fired his rifle in response.\n\n[hr]\n\nSteff snapped forwards, gasping for breath. Her heart hammered within her chest and her vision was blurry with tears. She frantically looked around, wondering why she was even still alive.\n\nSame hab unit. Check!\n\nSame sheets. Check!\n\nShe looked to the side.\n\nSame twelve-foot-tall bundle of plant matter shaped into a vaguely human form for a Mistress. Check! Check! Check!\n\nIt had all been a dream and a harrowing one at that.\n\n``Heart rate spike, please program xenodrug regime,'' a voice chirped in the back of her brain.\n\nMinerva shuffled in her sleep, opening her artificial eyes and looking at her. ``Everything okay, dear?''\n\nLie...\n\nYeah, like that would work against someone who was literally burrowed inside of her brain right now. Genius thinking there, Zephyr. She can probably tell that you're even considering it in the first place.\n\n``Just a nightmare,'' Steff said, reaching up and rubbing the bridge of her nose between her forefinger and thumb. ``Just... please go back to sleep.''\n\nMinerva sat up, looking her over. She reached out with a heavy hand and rested it upon her bare arm, rubbing at her tattoo with a thumb. ``Sweetie... your heart is hammering right now.''\n\n``I'm fine,'' Steff whispered, flinching away from her touch.\n\n``At least let me give you something to help with it,'' Minerva tried.\n\n``I'm fine,'' Steff repeated, a bit surer than before. ``I can handle this.''\n\nWhy fight the xenodrugs? You know they can be trusted.\n\nWeakness... she didn't want to appear weak. No, that was a poor excuse, even in this addled state she knew it. \n\nWas Becca weak for needing them? Jessie? Caitlyn?\n\nThey're different... they didn't need to be better. She was the living breathing proof that Minerva's research was flawless and that a Terran could be tamed without pharmaceutical intervention. Why would she ruin that research now over a few bad dreams? \n\n``Steff,'' Minerva tried.\n\nSteff drew in a breath and ran her hand through her sweat-drenched short hair. She forced a smile as she looked right at her Mistress. ``I know to come to you if it gets really bad, ma'am.'' She cast the sheets away from herself and got up. ``You know that you can trust me about this sort of stuff. Just had that weird nightmare where the giant clown is chasing me again.''\n\nMinerva didn't look so sure. ``Of course... I know that.''\n\nSteff tried to ignore how much that look stung.\n\n``I think I'm going to go make myself some coffee,'' she said, drawing away from the bed. ``Why don't you get a little more sleep, okay?''\n\nMinerva glanced at the clock, seeing that it was a little past five in the morning. So, she nodded and laid back down. ``You're taking a nap later today. I hope you know that.''\n\n``Of course, ma'am,'' Steff said.\n\nShe slipped out of the bedroom and entered the hab unit's living space. \n\nAs she stepped into the room, she looked at herself in the mirror, seeing those bags under her eyes. She also saw that she was totally naked aside from her heavy chain collar and the boxers which she wore. Her body was still toned, chiseled and exercised just as much as it would've been back in the marine corp. \n\nThat wasn't the only thing that was the same as back then as a jagged scar still blemished her cheek, along with plenty of smaller ones which marked her body. And her hair was still shaved on the sides with a long curly top of black hair with white highlights on the front to finish putting together her rugged butch look.\n\nA strong floret, a tough floret, a floret that could be relied on by her Mistress. She wasn't about to let Minerva down, wasn't about to become a hindrance.\n\nBad thoughts... bad thoughts...\n\nThere was this out of body pang, rumbling under that small lump on the side of her neck. She could feel her haustoric implant doing something, the plants shifting about as it was obvious telling Minerva that something was amiss.\n\n``Tattletale,'' Steff grumbled, flicking the small flower.\n\n``Do not flick my implant when I'm trying to sleep!'' Minerva groaned. ``You brat.''\n\n``Sorry, ma'am,'' Steff called, sparing a sharp look in the mirror and aiming it towards that nefarious little rat embedded in her neck.\n\nThat seemed to teach it a lesson as that guilty pang dissipated. Or maybe it had just told Minerva whatever she needed to know. The ways of the fern were still largely incomprehensible to her at times.\n\nSteff moved over to the kitchen nook and approached a machine that looked kind of like a microwave though much bulkier and with a far more complex interface. She pressed her thumb down upon the screen and a blue light washed over her print.\n\n``Welcome cherished pet,'' the machine chirped. ``Order whatever your Mistress allows you to have!''\n\nSteff scoffed and quickly typed out the symbols for a coffee, pressing the accept button. There was a pulse of light from inside and as she opened the door there was now a steaming cup of black coffee inside. She grabbed it and gave it a sniff before allowing herself a gingerly little sip.\n\nNot as good as the stuff that Minerva would've made. But this hour was not the realm for nice cups of coffee. No, five in the morning was the domain of cups that would gladly rot her guts.\n\nShe strayed over to the island, settling down upon a stool. Her electronic pad was there and she picked it up. Though her hand froze in the middle of the air. There was this intense pins and needles sensation followed quickly by a weird vertigo which struck her, making her stomach feel suddenly quite uneasy.\n\nHow long had she had this new arm? Months... a year at this point? When would her body get the memo that her old metal limb was a thing of the past.\n\nSteff scoffed.\n\nProbably around the same time that her brain would get the memo that she wasn't about to get shot anymore. Or maybe around the same time that it allowed her to actually be open with Minerva instead of acting like nothing was wrong when something was clearly gnawing at her.\n\nSteff sighed. Don't think like that.\n\nShe placed the pad down and cradled her temples between her forefinger and thumb, rubbing them in some desperate effort to tame her troublesome brain. The coffee helped, at least, the warmth and flavour clearing away the funk which seemed almost universal at this point. These were small mercies, tiny victories, baby steps to help with getting over this hump.\n\nRoot yourself... think positively.\n\nSteff was a healthier person than she once was. She ate better, had a loving home, wasn't breathing chemical fumes, and had somehow avoided being shot through the atmosphere at Mach Ten for probably the longest stretch of time in her adult life. She also had friends, people who genuinely cared about her. She had clubs she ran and hobbies to fill her day. \n\nThe only reason things felt slow going in terms of healing further was because she'd already made leaps and bounds before now. That had been the easy stuff and what was left were the hard bits to finish solidifying that she was a better person. \n\nAnd the start of those hard steps was...\n\nShe glanced towards the bedroom, allowing her gaze to settle upon the door. Maybe later, maybe when Minerva woke up.\n\nInstead, busied herself by looking back at her electronic pad. Still, even as she tried to read it, she could still feel her mind wander. \n\nMaybe those hard steps could actually be taken alone, at your own pace, without worrying your Affini. That was also a possibility! Didn't that sound so much better?\n\nSteff scoffed. Wishful thinking.\n\nThe electronic pad, much like the compiler, greeted her as a cherished pet. And like the compiler had virtually no restrictions placed upon it. The only real one being that she was forced to use the pet version of the Affini news app instead of the `grown-up' version. Something Minerva assured her was absolutely impossible to remove.\n\nIs your pet too cute? Experts confirm that there may be no upper limit to innate cuteness.\n\nNope...\n\nFeralist activity in Sector Lima Bravo reduced by 80%. Why Feralism is a thing of the past!\n\nPromising...\n\nSoldiers turned farmers, how Governor Omar Ali is working with Affini to help deradicalize former members of the Terran military.\n\nWait... Ali...\n\nSteff clicked the article, grinning at what she saw. \n\nGood for him. \n\nShe supposed that this was as good an article as any to enjoy with her morning coffee.\n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Steff felt her teeth clatter violently as she gripped the support bars of her coffin with a white-knuckle desperation. At least, it felt like a coffin, a small box of dark metal and navy-blue crash cushions, barely lit by a few digital interfaces which were reading off various figures. She ignored most of them, feeling her attention focus exclusively on her rapidly shrinking altitude, watching hundreds of metres bleeding away far too quickly for her liking.

She didn't need to read it to know that they were well into the mesosphere at this point, maybe even lower than that. The turbulence always started to get real nasty at this point as the air outside the pod grew thicker and thicker with every kilometer she cut through it in a fiery streak.

It grew hot inside of the capsule with the plasma sparking off the heatshield almost seeming to bleed through. The air felt thick enough to have substance with the smell of glue and old metal burning her nostrils with a chemical tinge.

It felt like this thing was honestly held together with hopes, dreams, and more than a little wishful thinking. Probably explained why so many of them cratered into the ground.

Don't think about that, don't think about that...

``Wish they'd drop us on a planet without an atmosphere for once,'' Billy snarled over the radio, his own pod somewhere out there beyond the metal.

Veronica cackled. ``I prefer being able to breathe the air, thank you very much.''

``Plus, we need air to slow us down, dipshit,'' Steff ribbed.

``Could be worse,'' Sarge bellowed. ``My first drop was on a planet with a very active volcano. Got shot right through an ash plume and was coughing up a lung the entire campaign.''

Steff scoffed. ``Did you have to climb uphill both ways too?''

``I sure did,'' Sarge said. Even he sounded strained by the descent. ``Had to bash the damn bugs with rocks while I was at it too. We didn't have nice things like guns back then.''

Everyone laughed at that though none of their mirth felt particularly boisterous at this moment.

``Wish they'd find someone to replace Zhu already,'' Billy grumbled.

``Why?'' Veronica asked. ``Means we don't need to share as many kills.''

``High command is slow with finding us a replacement,'' Sarge said. ``Apparently, not many troopers like the idea of being crammed inside of a drop pod and shot at a planet. Still... I heard that we'll be getting ourselves a real rookie next drop.''

``Oh joy,'' Steff chided.

The front sheet of her coffin suddenly sheared right off, causing the whole thing to horrifyingly wobble and spasm as it violently swung back and forth. It was mere degrees away from tumbling out of control but the engineering held steady by some miracle, keeping her thankfully heading towards the ground feet first.

There was a battle taking place down below with tracers cutting through the dark expanse of the poorly lit planet. The evidence of what the first wave was encountering as many fires dotted the industrial compound they were being sent into.

``Quick recap,'' Sarge said. ``Hostiles are labour agitators claiming they want better working conditions for them and the chipmunks here.''

``Lazy bastards,'' Billy jeered.

Sarge chuckled. ``Not everyone is used to an honest day's work, Sheridan. But that's why we're here. To help them see what an honest day can do to a person's work ethic. The B-52s have already cleared out the compound and the first wave is engaged with whatever's left. Our mission is to go in and support them in the clean-up operation. Shouldn't be too much down there aside from a few stubborn holdouts.''

``Rules of engagement?'' Veronica asked.

``Command has given us permission to liquidate any assets that we may deem necessary,'' Sarge replied. ``They want this to be a proper lesson for the workers.''

``Oorah,'' Billy said, unable to keep the smile out of his voice.

``B-52s?'' Steff asked, shaking her head with the limited ability she had to do so. ``Are the flyboys really still using those?''

``Got an upgrade package that's supposed to keep it in the air until at least the end of the century,'' Veronica said.

``Cheap bastards,'' Billy jeered. ``How long can they really keep those things airborne for?''

For a rare moment, Steff actually agreed with him.

She couldn't focus on that oddity for too long however. The air suddenly became even thicker and the pod rumbled with far more viciousness than before. The air inside was now downright toasty with beads of sweat prickling at her skin. A small fan kicked in, blowing slightly cooler air at her face. But it was about as effective as bringing a thimble to combat a forest fire.

This was where a pod would fail. This was where one in twenty droptroopers slammed into the ground at a considerable fraction of Mach Two.

Do not think about that!

Thankfully, her pod cooperated as the fins on top of it suddenly snapped open, adding to the air resistance. She was slowing down, even if it didn't really feel like it with how quickly the ground was approaching.

``Fins deployed!'' Steff barked.

Veronica grunted. ``Ditto.''

``Same here,'' Billy added.

Sarge laughed. ``Glad we're not about to have another Zhu on our hands.'' A pause. ``Thirty seconds until chutes!''

Thirty seconds had never felt longer in Steff's life. Whatever was left on the ground had taken notice of the marines cutting through the atmosphere as lines of tracers suddenly reached up into the sky. None of them came anywhere close to her but it wasn't hard to imagine a lucky shell shearing off a part of her craft and killing her before she was even aware of it. Stranger things had happened.

The chutes deployed just as the ground grew so terribly close. In a moment, she was forced towards the very bottom of her pod. She was only kept upright by her restraints and the gel cushion which ballooned outwards and squeezed her from every direction in a crushing embrace.

Regardless, even these measures couldn't save her poor knees as they ached under the pressure of briefly feeling five times heavier than usual. She swore that one of these days the deceleration was going to rip her prosthetic right out of its socket with how much it ached.

``Ten seconds until impact!'' Sarge barked, the strain evident in his voice.

Ten... nine... eight...

``Doesn't seem that those flyboys softened them up at all,'' Veronica growled.

Seven... six... five...

Billy chuckled. ``Just wanted to give us something to do. Scared of a few farmers with rifles?''

Four... three... two...

``Got more than just rifles, Sheridan,'' Sarge said, chuckling as if this was somehow a joke. ``You can thank the Civilian Defense Program for that!''

One...

A set of boosters suddenly kicked in, slowing the craft down once final time. Steff once more groaned as she yet again ached until the sudden increase in weight, feeling her guts trying their damnedest to crawl their way up her throat.

THUD!

There was a sharp hiss as the front plate depressurized and exploded right off of the capsule, jettisoning forward and smashing into a rock directly in front of her.

Every part of Steff's body wanted to stay put and relax but it seemed that the pod was ready for this sort of lethargy. There was a sharp prick in the side of her neck and suddenly this ice-cold liquid shot right into her veins. In less than a second, she was lunging forwards, feeling her attention narrow and her ability to fight God suddenly increase ten-fold. Her heart hammered far quicker than before with this metallic taste brewing at the back of her throat.

She quickly ripped her rifle out of its holster and took aim, putting herself behind the rock her capsule cover had crumpled against. As she looked to the side, she saw that Sarge and Billy were rushing over. And on her other side was Veronica. All of them had apparently landed safely.

Small miracle...

The darkness suddenly blossomed with violent light as a machine gun rattled from up ahead. Tracers flew directly above them and Steff forced herself down along with the others. The air smelled of burnt ozone, showing her how close one of those rounds had come to clipping her.

Sarge scoffed. ``Nice of them to set up a welcome for us.'' He pulled out a small tube from his breast pocket and twisted it open, extracting a long brown cigar from inside. He lifted it up and a tracer slammed into the tip, causing it to snap off while also igniting the dried plant matter.  At which point, he bit off the other end and stuck it between his teeth, casually puffing upon it. ``Cruz, think you can hit it with a grenade?''

Veronica laughed as she slotted one into the underbarrel of her rifle. She didn't have to say a thing as the other three all took aim and fired down range, laying down a blanket of suppressing fire and briefly silencing the enemy gun.

There was a pop from Veronica's direction as something rapidly arched towards that MG. It was followed a few seconds later by a large fiery bang from where that gun had just been posted.

``Nice shot,'' Billy said, thumping her on the back.

Veronica nodded and got up, pushing ahead and marching towards the signs of battle off in the distance. ``Think I fragged any chipmunks?''

``Guess we'll find out in a second,'' Steff said, levelling her gun and advancing as well. She grinned as she watched that MG's former post blazing like a bonfire. ``Heard they taste good.''

As they crossed that small field, she saw that they weren't the first marine drop team which had come this way. There were five corpses, resting motionless and face down on the ground. Puddles of muddy blood pooled around them and it didn't take a genius to figure out that they had likely been cut to ribbons by the same gun which had just attempted to turn them into mincemeat.

Sarge grunted. ``Leave them, we need to focus on the objective.''

Billy sneered. ``No prisoners.''

``We haven't got that order yet,'' Veronica said.

``Liquidate any assets we see fit,'' Billy said, scoffing. ``Remember?''

Not even Steff could bring herself to argue with that perspective. A fact which was only reinforced as they stumbled upon another group of drop pods which had been hosed down with even more gunfire. Four corpses hung from the mangled metal and crash cushions, burning as they crackled in the flames.

``Jesus Christ,'' Steff hissed.

Sarge nodded, puffing on his cigar. ``War ain't pretty.''

Steff suddenly wished that she had one as well in order to mask the smell.

``Those flyboys better hope that I don't find them,'' Veronica grumbled. ``This situation is fucked.''

There was a crunch from beside them and Steff whipped around, turning to face them.

Over the ridge came a group of men glad in battered overalls, wearing mining helmets and union pins. They were leveling archaic weapons at the group as they rushed ahead, firing wildly in uncontrolled bursts.

One of these bullets dinged off of Steff's metallic arm, prompting her to duck to the side.

The gap between the two groups was closing fast and Steff watched as one of them put her right in their sights. Her blood ran cold as she felt herself caught out of position, feeling her grip upon her gun grow so woefully clammy.

``Ambush!'' Billy shouted as he fired his rifle in response.

[hr]

Steff snapped forwards, gasping for breath. Her heart hammered within her chest and her vision was blurry with tears. She frantically looked around, wondering why she was even still alive.

Same hab unit. Check!

Same sheets. Check!

She looked to the side.

Same twelve-foot-tall bundle of plant matter shaped into a vaguely human form for a Mistress. Check! Check! Check!

It had all been a dream and a harrowing one at that.

``Heart rate spike, please program xenodrug regime,'' a voice chirped in the back of her brain.

Minerva shuffled in her sleep, opening her artificial eyes and looking at her. ``Everything okay, dear?''

Lie...

Yeah, like that would work against someone who was literally burrowed inside of her brain right now. Genius thinking there, Zephyr. She can probably tell that you're even considering it in the first place.

``Just a nightmare,'' Steff said, reaching up and rubbing the bridge of her nose between her forefinger and thumb. ``Just... please go back to sleep.''

Minerva sat up, looking her over. She reached out with a heavy hand and rested it upon her bare arm, rubbing at her tattoo with a thumb. ``Sweetie... your heart is hammering right now.''

``I'm fine,'' Steff whispered, flinching away from her touch.

``At least let me give you something to help with it,'' Minerva tried.

``I'm fine,'' Steff repeated, a bit surer than before. ``I can handle this.''

Why fight the xenodrugs? You know they can be trusted.

Weakness... she didn't want to appear weak. No, that was a poor excuse, even in this addled state she knew it.

Was Becca weak for needing them? Jessie? Caitlyn?

They're different... they didn't need to be better. She was the living breathing proof that Minerva's research was flawless and that a Terran could be tamed without pharmaceutical intervention. Why would she ruin that research now over a few bad dreams?

``Steff,'' Minerva tried.

Steff drew in a breath and ran her hand through her sweat-drenched short hair. She forced a smile as she looked right at her Mistress. ``I know to come to you if it gets really bad, ma'am.'' She cast the sheets away from herself and got up. ``You know that you can trust me about this sort of stuff. Just had that weird nightmare where the giant clown is chasing me again.''

Minerva didn't look so sure. ``Of course... I know that.''

Steff tried to ignore how much that look stung.

``I think I'm going to go make myself some coffee,'' she said, drawing away from the bed. ``Why don't you get a little more sleep, okay?''

Minerva glanced at the clock, seeing that it was a little past five in the morning. So, she nodded and laid back down. ``You're taking a nap later today. I hope you know that.''

``Of course, ma'am,'' Steff said.

She slipped out of the bedroom and entered the hab unit's living space.

As she stepped into the room, she looked at herself in the mirror, seeing those bags under her eyes. She also saw that she was totally naked aside from her heavy chain collar and the boxers which she wore. Her body was still toned, chiseled and exercised just as much as it would've been back in the marine corp.

That wasn't the only thing that was the same as back then as a jagged scar still blemished her cheek, along with plenty of smaller ones which marked her body. And her hair was still shaved on the sides with a long curly top of black hair with white highlights on the front to finish putting together her rugged butch look.

A strong floret, a tough floret, a floret that could be relied on by her Mistress. She wasn't about to let Minerva down, wasn't about to become a hindrance.

Bad thoughts... bad thoughts...

There was this out of body pang, rumbling under that small lump on the side of her neck. She could feel her haustoric implant doing something, the plants shifting about as it was obvious telling Minerva that something was amiss.

``Tattletale,'' Steff grumbled, flicking the small flower.

``Do not flick my implant when I'm trying to sleep!'' Minerva groaned. ``You brat.''

``Sorry, ma'am,'' Steff called, sparing a sharp look in the mirror and aiming it towards that nefarious little rat embedded in her neck.

That seemed to teach it a lesson as that guilty pang dissipated. Or maybe it had just told Minerva whatever she needed to know. The ways of the fern were still largely incomprehensible to her at times.

Steff moved over to the kitchen nook and approached a machine that looked kind of like a microwave though much bulkier and with a far more complex interface. She pressed her thumb down upon the screen and a blue light washed over her print.

``Welcome cherished pet,'' the machine chirped. ``Order whatever your Mistress allows you to have!''

Steff scoffed and quickly typed out the symbols for a coffee, pressing the accept button. There was a pulse of light from inside and as she opened the door there was now a steaming cup of black coffee inside. She grabbed it and gave it a sniff before allowing herself a gingerly little sip.

Not as good as the stuff that Minerva would've made. But this hour was not the realm for nice cups of coffee. No, five in the morning was the domain of cups that would gladly rot her guts.

She strayed over to the island, settling down upon a stool. Her electronic pad was there and she picked it up. Though her hand froze in the middle of the air. There was this intense pins and needles sensation followed quickly by a weird vertigo which struck her, making her stomach feel suddenly quite uneasy.

How long had she had this new arm? Months... a year at this point? When would her body get the memo that her old metal limb was a thing of the past.

Steff scoffed.

Probably around the same time that her brain would get the memo that she wasn't about to get shot anymore. Or maybe around the same time that it allowed her to actually be open with Minerva instead of acting like nothing was wrong when something was clearly gnawing at her.

Steff sighed. Don't think like that.

She placed the pad down and cradled her temples between her forefinger and thumb, rubbing them in some desperate effort to tame her troublesome brain. The coffee helped, at least, the warmth and flavour clearing away the funk which seemed almost universal at this point. These were small mercies, tiny victories, baby steps to help with getting over this hump.

Root yourself... think positively.

Steff was a healthier person than she once was. She ate better, had a loving home, wasn't breathing chemical fumes, and had somehow avoided being shot through the atmosphere at Mach Ten for probably the longest stretch of time in her adult life. She also had friends, people who genuinely cared about her. She had clubs she ran and hobbies to fill her day.

The only reason things felt slow going in terms of healing further was because she'd already made leaps and bounds before now. That had been the easy stuff and what was left were the hard bits to finish solidifying that she was a better person.

And the start of those hard steps was...

She glanced towards the bedroom, allowing her gaze to settle upon the door. Maybe later, maybe when Minerva woke up.

Instead, busied herself by looking back at her electronic pad. Still, even as she tried to read it, she could still feel her mind wander.

Maybe those hard steps could actually be taken alone, at your own pace, without worrying your Affini. That was also a possibility! Didn't that sound so much better?

Steff scoffed. Wishful thinking.

The electronic pad, much like the compiler, greeted her as a cherished pet. And like the compiler had virtually no restrictions placed upon it. The only real one being that she was forced to use the pet version of the Affini news app instead of the `grown-up' version. Something Minerva assured her was absolutely impossible to remove.

Is your pet too cute? Experts confirm that there may be no upper limit to innate cuteness.

Nope...

Feralist activity in Sector Lima Bravo reduced by 80%. Why Feralism is a thing of the past!

Promising...

Soldiers turned farmers, how Governor Omar Ali is working with Affini to help deradicalize former members of the Terran military.

Wait... Ali...

Steff clicked the article, grinning at what she saw.

Good for him.

She supposed that this was as good an article as any to enjoy with her morning coffee.

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