Dog of War

“Are you sure you wish to leave?” Florence's voice was a reassuring hand on Ash’s shoulder as they stood outside the shuttle.

 

Ash forced a smile, the finality of the moment weighing on them like an EMU in grav. “Yeah, I am. This place is nice, and living with you was fun, but I can't stay here. Seeing the old Valiant crew is just painful, and I miss my home.”

 

Florence bowed her head. “Then I wish you luck. You will always have a place here, if you want it. Being your roommate and your guardian was a gift.”

 

Ash hugged the Affini, much to her shock and delight. “Thanks for giving me a chance, and helping me find my feet.”

 

“I was happy to do so.” A rare pet was treasured in this parting embrace, each savoring it. There were no more words to be shared, just a smile before Ash entered the shuttle.

 

The massive space was empty, which wasn't unexpected. The Datura had been docked for three days and would be docked for three more. Anyone that was visiting the Vervarium or Cassius was likely already doing so. Getting up on the seat and buckling in on their own wasn't too bad, with the variety of accessibility options available.

 

Finally, Ash would get to actually close this chapter of their life.

 

Ash exhaled, leaning their head back. It felt unreal. Three years since they were snatched off Eris-Minor, almost a decade since they left the Sol system, and they were finally heading back. How much had changed on Mars? The Affini had a headstart on Cassius, and humans had spent much longer ruining Sol. Then again, Ash had heard there were far more Affini ships there. If Cassius was what they could do with one ship, Mars probably wasn't all that far behind.

 

If it didn't work out, Ash would have their pick of vessels to live on. Maybe even leave the Milky Way altogether, and see some of the super structures the Affini had built closer to their core worlds. They'd heard there were Penrose Spheres and planet-sized compilers capable of fabricating super structures as easily as their cousins made a meal. Not to mention the stellar gardens, where the Affini vessels were grown. Ash was unlikely to ever be capable of fully grasping the engineering, but that wouldn't affect marveling.

 

“Thank the Everbloom, I made it. Oh, hello little one, I didn't think anyone else would be aboard.” A distinctly Affini voice greeted. Ash lifted their head, looking at the newcomer. They were tall, and a dull shade of green, with bark-like plates forming a typically feminine chest. A poor indicator of gender on Terrans, let alone Affini. Some of the vines looked like they had recently been rubbed raw, and leaves were falling off them.  

 

Ash just shrugged. “Just finished tying up some loose ends here, only got my hab approved aboard the Datura yesterday.”

 

The door slid closed, and a chime played over the intercom. “Running final checks and asking for permission to depart from Vervarium-actual. Buckle up if you haven't, cuties!”

 

The Affini took a seat across Ash. “You didn't want to move with your hab?”

 

“Wanted to see the docks, and to say goodbye to Florence—she was my guardian during my wardship.” Ash winked, adding, “Guess I could ask you the same though.”

 

“Ah.” The Affini wilted, shrinking. “I... can't be in my old hab anymore. I had it dismantled and the contents moved to storage. I was going to put in a request for one once we got aboard.”

 

Ash grimaced, the Affini's pain recognizable even across species lines. “I'm sorry for your loss.”

 

“My—? Oh! No, no, no, no one died. I mean, a sophont almost did, but the vet was able to save her, thank the Everbloom. It's just that I hurt her, and her Owner. She's such a sweet little thing, too. She insisted I stop fighting over the blame with her Mistress. She even thanked me for helping her.” The Affini fidgeted, “However, being on Cassius was still painful.”

 

Ash nodded solemnly, “Yeah, I get that. Being near everyone from the ship is the same, it's why I'm leaving.”

 

The Affini shifted, curiously, cautiously. “I'm sorry, but did you—?”

 

“Her name was Jennifer MacDonald. She was murdered six months before the person that framed her mutinied and turned us over to the Compact.”

 

“We are now leaving the Vervarium, and will arrive at the Datura shortly! We'll be experiencing microgravity, so don't touch those buckles without Affini permission, cuties!”

 

Silence hung in the air as Ash floated against the belts, nostalgic in its own way. Those few service areas that didn't get gravity, or when the ring had gone down for maintenance. Long hours sweating together, dissembling and checking dozens of panels.

 

“Sorry, I shouldn't have pried.” The Affini looked even worse, like a stiff breeze might see them fall to pieces. They seemed so fragile.

 

“It's alright, I'm doing better now. I've been working with a therapist, and I had a good friend to help me through it. The person who did it is never going to hurt anyone ever again. It still hurts, sometimes even a lot, but I’m healing now.” Princess was implanted now, Florence had told them. She was no longer Ash’s problem. Soon they'd be over a hundred light years away, or even in another galaxy. “Not sure if going home will hurt or help, but I have people there to figure it out with. Going to chase some passion projects, maybe open a shop, might even try my hand at sculpture. What about you? Heading somewhere?”

 

“It sounds like you have things figured out.” The Affini's vines knotted over each other, Ash could see why they looked so raw now. “I don't really have a plan. I don't want to return to Andromeda yet, but the Milky Way is a little lonely. I guess I'm hoping I'll feel better with some distance from Cassius.”

 

Ash blinked, “Do you not have friends here?”

 

“I do! They're just… mostly in the outer halo. They prefer the comforts of more settled Compact areas, so I came here alone. I wanted to see what sophonts in the wild were like, and help the domestication efforts.”

 

Ash tried not to frown. For all the ways the Affini were different, they had the same attitude as the Accord. They knew best, and anything else was ‘uncivilized,’ or to put it their way, ‘feral.’ Even though they managed to back up those claims, it still left a bad taste in Ash's mouth. “That sounds a lot like a ‘no.’”

 

The Affini continued to fidget in silence, rubbing off several flowers as they did. It didn't feel right to leave it like that, sitting in their stomach like lead.

 

“Ash Harmon, by the way, they/them. What's your name?”

 

“We didn't—? Oh mulch, I'm so sorry, I said all that and didn't even give you my name!” Ash wondered briefly if they made a mistake. It only seemed to make it worse and their shed leaves were starting to drift into them. “Ezra Primrose, second bloom, she/they.”

 

Ash held up a hand, hoping to keep the deteriorating Affini together. It was like dealing with a transformer about to blow. “No need to apologize, I could've done it sooner myself. Besides, I'm the one that thought your floret died and brought it up anyways.”

 

“B-but I'm the Affini!” Ash could swear they heard that distinct buzzing hum approaching critical. “I'm supposed to take the initiative, I-I'm supposed to know what to do!”

 

Ash bit the inside of their lip to stifle a more overt reaction. This plant needed help. Ezra was falling apart in just about every sense of the word, and that sense of being lost reminded Ash of themselves in a sickening way. They had been much the same in the aftermath of Jen’s murder. They knew all too well what isolation does in that mindset. Damn if it wasn't the therapy speaking, but they wanted to be that help.

 

Jen would want that too.

 

Ash swallowed their nerves, and made the leap. “Well, Ezra, since you don't really have a place to go, or technically even stay at the moment, why not come with me? My furniture is Terran-sized, but the hab has a guest room for Affini. You could even change it to suit your needs.”

 

“What? I-I'm flattered, little one, but I don't think I can take on a floret right now, and we just met!”

 

Ash laughed, “I'm not asking to be your pet, I'm saying it looks like you need a friend, and I know what that's like. If there's one thing I learned from my wardship, it's that everyone needs someone to lean on sometimes. Besides, it'll be a few months before the Datura stops by Mars, and I could use the company. It'll save you a trip to housing, too.”

 

“B-but we just met! And I was so rude! What if it doesn't work out, or I hurt you?”

 

“Then we go our separate ways or figure something out.”

 

“But—that's—A-are you sure? Are you really okay with me? We hardly know each other, and I'm—I'm a mess! You could be making a serious mistake, little one!”

 

“Yeah, maybe.” Ash shrugged, before smiling. “What can I say? I don't want to be afraid anymore.”

 

 

-_-_-_-

 

 

The old man sighed as the whiskey burned his throat, its fire lingering in his mouth. His chest glowed with dull heat, beating back the setting chill of the afternoon. The sun was barely a glower over the sea, its long orange stripes beginning to fade into the horizon. Much like mankind itself, he supposed. Another species subjugated by the Affini, a sunset like any other.

 

The sand was still warm on his feet though, and his drink still had bite. He intended to enjoy the fading flame as long as he could. Even if it was twilight where dawn should be. A few more generations would have been all he needed. A new humanity, truly without equal, with him holding the leash. A dream washed away, writing below the tideline.

 

“Gabriel Maxwell?” A most unwelcome voice dragged the old man out of the past. An Affini, not one he recognized. Tall like all of its kind, its greens trended on the darker side, with streaks of almost neon purples coloring its spiky leaves. Bark formed its face and a sort of torso, and covered the tops of its hands, ending in claw-like fingers. Six eyes glowered like embers behind its mask in a thousand deeper shades of purple, swirling like smoke.

 

He averted his gaze immediately, staring instead at its chin. “Yes? And you are?”

 

Its flowers almost sparkled as they brightened, glimmering in the soft twilight. Did they ever tire of acting so childish? How this conquered mankind was beyond him. “Viola Amaryllis, ninth bloom, fae/faer.” It grinned, bearing its many sharp teeth-like thorns at him. “It's a pleasure to finally meet you! I'm something of a fan of yours~”

 

Something was off. The old man couldn't place what, exactly. The words’ true nature were hidden in a sickly sweetness one might associate with children's medicine. It clearly wanted something, but what remained to be seen. It was best to play along, and hope it was placated soon. “I see. I'm assuming you're referring to my research?”

 

“Oh yes!” It moved closer, now towering over him at the foot of his chair. “So much adorable work on your own genome, trying to solve disease and aging. Very commendable attempts for a species that only invented the scientific method a millennia ago!”

 

“Thanks,” the old man grunted, taking a sip of his whiskey. The drink was silk compared to his life's work being treated like a finger painting.

 

“Your studies into nature vs nurture were equally fascinating. So many cute little theories about how to shape the human mind~ I found Cerebral Programming to be extremely advanced for a species with such rudimentary understanding of their own psyche! Surpassing your little ‘supercomputers,’” it giggled the word, making his eye twitch, “with a bit of gene editing, conditioning, and surgery was a positively adorable notion for something so inhumane!”

 

So that was its angle. This should be simple, then, he had faced these types many times before. “That was a long time ago, over a decade before you even came into Accord space. My work changed, as did I. Would it be too much to ask that such an unpleasant past stay buried? I've already had one of those wardships about it, you know.”

 

“Of course, cutie, I did read your file. Your recent work was very humanitarian—discounting the profiteering—and just as much of a joy to read~”

 

He humphed, “Surely you don't mean to blame me for capitalism?” He drained the last dregs of alcohol from his glass to punctuate his question.

 

“Not for that, no.” He paused as the words scraped against his ears, devoid of the cloyingly sweet coating they previously held.

 

“Did you really come out here just to tell me how ‘cute’ you think my work is?”

 

Its grin crept unnaturally wide, “Like I said, I'm a really big fan of all of your work, little one.” The words were almost playfully predatory, like a cat batting at a mouse. A chill that he had long forgotten grasped his heart as the last vestiges of light disappeared beneath the waves.

 

It couldn't know, that was impossible. That data had been hand fed into COSMIC’s system, purged of all identifying factors. Purged in turn, when the Affini threatened to take it. The last true copy was destroyed by its final creation decades ago. Still, the way it was worded was unmistakable—whatever it knew, it was more than he wanted it to. It was time to disengage.

 

“I see. Well as lovely as it has been to meet someone capable of appreciating my work, it's about time I headed in and got dinner ready.” He got up, collecting his glass before walking back towards his mansion. Thankfully the xenos had let him keep it, even if they had installed their insipid AI to spy on him.

 

The Affini followed, no, stalked after him. “Oh, let me help!” Worse yet, that coddling tone was back. “I'd love to join you, and it would give us more time to talk!”

 

Whatever it was hoping to get a rise out of him for, he wouldn't be giving it. “Thank you, but I'd prefer to enjoy a quiet evening.”

 

“Something we have in common! I also prefer a peaceful evening~”

 

He had been one of the most powerful men in the known galaxy once, and now, this. All due to a faulty collar, his own soft heart, and the hubris that led him to eliminating the entire third gen. “Sorry Miss—”

 

“Mx,” it corrected, its voice hardening.

 

“...Mx Amaryllis. I'm not saying this to be rude, but I would like to be alone.”

 

The xeno flowed between states with all the ease of water, bubbly as it continued. “Nonsense, how would I be able to talk to you about your research on increasing the efficiency of the remodeling process to improve bone density if I left? That would have really helped fight the issues your kind faced as a space faring species! Besides, you haven't had any guests since Mr Anglolensis last visited, I'm sure you could use some... company.”

 

The old man sighed, it seemed he was in for a long night. “If you insist.” If he had been allowed to re-establish the Company, if the fourth gen had been brought to fruition, if the Affini had arrived even twenty years later, he could have had the plant prostrate at his feet.

 

“Wonderful,” it cheered. “The research on conditioning might be my personal favorite though. Parts of it echo our own work, you know~”

 

“I've been told as much.” He was nearly inside at least. If he was to be subject to a mad plant’s ramblings, he'd rather it be in his own home.

 

“We don't usually have so much emphasis on negative reinforcement, and the reward is usually greater, but it's refreshing to see it from a xenosophont’s perspective! It was for the best, but it's almost a pity you never got approved for trial. A little ironic that those exact methods cropped up in several companies shortly after.”

 

Ah yes, that had bought him a lovely library, filled it too. Vintage works, on real Terran-sourced paper. “It was published publicly. If a megacorp steals my work, there's not much I can do as an individual. I would have been tied up in the courts until all my money was spent.”

 

“Yes, and I'm sure their continuous anonymous donations to your research helped ease the pain.” There it was again, that edge in its voice, like claws digging his brain. “At least your finest work stayed safe from would-be thieves! That must be comforting.”

 

The old man knew it was toying with him. It had been verbally circling around him like prey this whole time, and now it was readying to pounce. There was nothing to do but play along. “And what would that be?”

 

“Why, your work on Proxima Cen-F, Mr Fox!”

 

Ice churned in his stomach like glass, and he froze two meters from the door. It knew. How did it know? Even intact, the paper trail was full of dead ends and misdirection, tied to his old name through a dozen proxies just as difficult to track. 3-4-7—if it was even still living—never knew his name and believed him dead. Still, it was the only remnant of the Company besides himself.

 

He should have killed it that night. A father's love was a heavy burden.

 

“Sorry, do you prefer Jack? Is ‘The Director’ better, or do you go by Gabriel now?”

 

He did not crack. No, the Affini had to be here on shaky evidence at best, he could play this off. “I'm afraid you have me confused for someone else.” He took a step towards the door, and it instantly moved in front of him.

 

“No, little fox, I do not.” It was like its words shaped reality instead of reflecting it, the air squeezed out of any possible excuse. It seemed to grow even as it stood still—as still as any of them did. Its vines rippled like water, threatening to part like a sea.

 

His heart sank, mouth opening before sealing shut. There was nowhere to go, nothing to say that would get him out of this. He straightened up, and steeled himself. He would not give it the satisfaction of seeing him tremble, he would face his end with dignity.

 

It made a sound—his brain clocked it as a parody of laughter, but his heart told him it was daggers digging into him. He did not flinch. “Goodness, you are just a treat! Every bit as strong-willed and prideful as your record indicated~”

 

For the first time in decades, the Director smiled. “You can't seriously be domesticating me for something that happened over thirty years ago. If my errors from eight years ago are excusable, surely these are too. I've even been living peacefully in the Compact for over two years now, you cannot seriously use such an old event against me.”

 

It twitched, “Hm? Oh, no, no, no little fox. As far I'm concerned, what happened at the Company and what happened between you and Princess is a matter of the past! It would be unfair for me to judge your actions in the wild—awful as they were—when you've been so well behaved for us~ As I mentioned, I've seen your profile—‘self-centered, somewhat reclusive, and aggravated at times, but affable and charismatic when given some space. Possible case for compulsory domestication due to isolation, as well as feral ideology leanings. However, he has little desire to act upon or spread it and regular check-ups have provided sufficient Affini socialization. Low priority, low risk.’ You've already been deemed not a threat!”

 

‘Low priority?!’ He was the Director! He had a private army without equal that would obey his every word as though he were God. He had wormed his way into the heart of the Accord, anyone not directly under his power he had enough blackmail on to squeeze. Once, that is. No—he must keep level-headed. It was clearly trying to get him to snap, likely attempting to create a reason to domesticate him. “In that case, it is getting late, and I would like to eat. Please move aside.”

 

“And I will make sure to get you a wonderful dinner soon, little fox.” Its leaves rustled, a ripple through its very being. It was enjoying this.

 

He could feel the tenuous ground cracking beneath him. “I can make it fine on my own, thank you.”

 

“I know you can, but you see, we have a lot to fit into a very small amount of time. We're expected back on Cassius in two weeks, you know~ I've already got a private ship waiting, it will be just you and I.”

 

The growing stress finally cracked his voice, cold sweat beading on his brow. “You said I don't need domestication.”

 

“I did say that, so clever!” It reached a false hand downwards, mussing his short hair. Any attempt to pull away was quickly thwarted. “That's what I like about you, little fox~”

 

“Excuse me?!” His composure was crumbling, heart racing.

 

“You see, you gave me quite the hunt, and the more I learned about you, the more I was sure you were perfect. Quick-witted, resourceful, underhanded, capable of recognizing when to fight, and when not to fight—I like that in my prey. With your record, I got approval for a compulsory domestication straight away!” Vines wrapped around his limbs. He pulled against them to no avail, true panic setting for the first time  in decades. “Aww, you even know when to struggle against the inevitable! It's true you're a little lacking on the physical side due to age, but that's easy enough to fix with a few biomods~”

 

“Y-you can't! I’m an independent, I've done nothing to deserve this!” The vines holding him hostage may as well be as immutable as gravity, the creature before him a black hole. It couldn't end like this, it wouldn't! To some xeno scum that saw him—him—as prey?!

 

It stopped, twitching again in that strange way. “Deserve? This isn't a punishment, little fox, I don't need justification. I have decided you will be happier as mine, and that I want to take you, that is all that matters. Your compliance is optional. In fact, I fully hope you fight with everything you have.”

 

The old man screamed, thrashing to escape.

 

Its face split in two, “Mm yes, little fox, just like that~”

 

 

-_-_-_-

 

 

elle’s head was all spinny as Victoria slipped her knot out of her mouth—her head always got spinny after taking it for a few hours! Mistress sayed it was, uhm, lack of oxy-jen. And it was true! elle never met any ox’s named Jen before! The heavy musk of the knot pressing against her face didn't really help tons neither. Sometimes she felt like she could breathe it in forever. It made her feel safe and useful, almost like Mistress did.

 

“Stars, that was incredible. Good hole, good mouthslut.” elle shuddered in pleasure, moaning as her cage tightened to the point she thought she might pop. she was a good mouthslut and a good hole!!! Maybe Mistress would fuck her clitty again as a reward!

 

elle yawned. Right now she was super duper sleepy though. Being used was tiring after some hours, even if it was fun. The slick knot was pulled away, replaced by a large paw cradling her face. An equally big thumb stroked through her hair, and they both didn't say nothin’ for a while. Just Victoria holding her. It was nice.

 

It couldn't last, that empty feeling made her mouth start to get all lonely! elle whined as it began to ache, nuzzling into the fur of Victoria's thigh. Those paws drew her up, cradling her in strong arms and undoing her bonds. The thick sexual musk of her cock still in her nose as the warm earthy tones of her chest filled it. “You want your gag, or a finger?”

 

“Finga, pease.” There was some shifting, letting elle feel the powerful muscle beneath Victoria's soft fur, and a thumb entered her needy hole. elle sighed, snuggling closer and getting cozy.

 

“Better?”

 

“Mhm.” A hand brushed hair out of elle's face. It was a little silly cuz she was blind and blindfolded, but that's what she liked about Victoria. They would go forevers, and she'd tell her she was a good hole, and then they'd cuddle for a long time. And she'd been coming over lots too! elle didn't really keep track of days or nothin’, but it felt like she was here almost as much as she wasn't. she nuzzled into her chest, enjoying the feeling of fur against her cheek.

 

Victoria gave elle a one-armed hug, which she returned as best she could. her arms felt all noodly still, and one of them was under her. Her head rested upon elle’s own, and they stayed like that.

 

elle traced her free hand along Victoria's chest, rising and falling gently, getting a feel for the shape of her. Her large body, her boobies, her bushy tail tickling elle's leg, it all drew an almost-picture. As much a beast as it was a beauty. Yet here was one thing she had never dared to touch. she was just a mouthslut after all, to be used, given whatever her betters deemed right, an’ nothin' more.

 

It was different with Victoria, somehow? Most sophonts used her and left right after—and so did she, at first, but not anymore. elle's hand moved upwards, expecting the pang of being greedy, but the spine friend soothed her. This was fine? Her jaw was so strong, and there were, uhm, fangs?

 

“Hm? elle? You alright?”

 

“Can touch? Pease? Wanna... Wanna know.”

 

“Uhm...” elle could feel Victoria shift beneath her. “Yeah, sure. Here, let me help.” She moved again, pulling her off her chest and took out her thumb to grab her hand. Her other thumb went in right after tho! She guided elle’s hand along the bony thing, which curved all the way to the back of her head. “These are my horns, the big ones anyways.”

 

elle let out an ‘ooo,’ running her hands up n’ down it a few times. It came to just about where Victoria's jaw began? It was smooth and felt nicies. The tip was dull, but pointed.

 

Victoria moved her hand upwards to something super soft that flicked as elle touched them. Oh! she knew this one! “Ears!” They were so big!

 

“Yeah, though they're pretty sensitive, so let's move downwards.” elle’s free hand stayed at its ear a lil before joining the lead hand. “Second pair of horns, between them is what your kind call our third eye.”

 

Woah... Three eyes? The second pair of horns were way smaller and less curvy but still a little bit curvy. elle slowly moved to touch the eye, giving Victoria time to stop her, but she didn't. She did close it tho. “Do somethin’?”

 

“Same thing the other two do. Quani has long winters, and it helps us make things out through the snowblind.” Victoria guided elle's hands to the lower set, a lil below the small horns, and let go.

 

elle’s hands wandered, from the fluffy-wuffy ears to the big horns to the eyes. A sorta image was coming together, of the big fox that always played with her right. Her nose was kinda wet too, and she had fangs! No wait, could fangs move without the mouth? Mistress would know, she should ask sometimes.

 

Victoria's lips were soft, but not in the human way.  elle found herself stoppin’ there. It was like the fur on the ears but less fluffy and more fuzzy! Victoria laughed, and she lost track of them as she spoke, “Oh? You want to explore my mouth?”

 

elle tilted her head as much as she could, “Nn?”

 

“Well, seems fair to me, I've been using yours for the last month.” The thumb left her mouth—her mouth was empty! “You're going to want to use your tongue, love.”

 

Those fuzzy lips pressed against elle’s own, the fang thingies grabbing her face as Victoria's tongue worked inside. she could feel her heart swooning, or maybe it was oxy-jen again? She had so many teeth, her tongue was so big, the smell was so strong.

 

And her heart was so full.