Dog of War

     Camila Verdun, first Bloom was bored out of her core. The helm of the Vervarium was empty- apart from herself and the ever busy ship's AI. They hung in orbit around the Terran planet Cassius, inducted into the Terran Protectorate over two years ago, months before she managed to get her transfer papers approved. The Vervarium hung in orbit as rear guard and she sat at the nav chair, keeping an Affini eye on comms and the radar. Just in case some of the rebel cuties decided Cassius below seemed like easy pickings for their recruitment.

 

Camila had been hoping to maybe find her first floret from among the rebels and holdouts. However it seemed just about everyone except the rather special cases that' needed an expert vine had been snatched up by her comrades before her arrival. As a result she was left without a floret, far from the action and with few friends on the foreign ship with little to occupy herself. If she could sigh, she would.

 

"Vervarium-Actual, do you have anything on the long range scanners?" Camila ventured. 

 

The ship chirped back before responding, "All is normal Miss Verdun."

 

She felt her flowers wilt just a little. It was unlikely but it had been worth a shot, she supposed. Terran ships were adorably low tech but they still had somewhat competent warp and shielding. "Thank you Vervarium-Actual."

 

"Of course Miss Verdun. Remember to take a break if you feel overworked." The ship chirped as the AI diverted its attention back to running itself.

 

Camila humphed. "Overworked." If anything she was underworked. She has been staring at a blank radar and listening to empty comms apart from the rare visit from the actual frontline domestication ships for almost a Terran year now. Maybe she should put in for a transfer? Perhaps The Sequoiadon or The Elettarium? Perhaps The Argraia? She heard that one was still having some trouble with the locals. Oh! Maybe she could ask the captain of- 

 

Her train of thought was interrupted as several alarms started to blare at once. The ship chirped as its AI activated its vocals on the bridge again. "Spatial anomaly detected, readings are congruent with Terran Warships of the Leviathan class. Raising defenses, putting the ship on screen." 

 

Oh goodness! She wanted something to break up her shift but this wasn't exactly what she had in mind! She quickly perused the list, Leviathan class... Those were the largest in the Terran Navy weren't they? The scans indicated it was about 1.5km long. Minimum crew would be a few dozen, likely 200-300 but could push over 500. She quickly browsed the list, receiving a message from the captain that Xe'd be there shortly, when the ship spoke again. "Receiving a hail from CSS The Valiant, do you wish to accept?" The Terran's we're hailing her? 

 

"I- yes, please open communications." The ship chirped in the affirmative and the static of the line filled the bridge. "This is Camila Verdun, first bloom of the Vervarium She/Her, are you in need of assistance?"

 

At first there was just the sound of gentle breathing and static. Camila checked the scans again to make sure this wasn't a ploy for time- the ship hadn't moved, nor had it armed any of it's weapons. It did seem that only two areas were oxygenated though, the bridge and the cargo bay. That was... Most unusual. Then a low, ragged voice came through. "Affini vessel Vervarium, this is Beckett with the Terran Cosmic Navy Ship The Valiant. We..." The voice paused, a long sigh filled the silence, "I am here to surrender this vessel it's, 2143 high yield plasma missles, 4 rail cannons, 1 sublight mass cannon and 244 souls. A number of the crew need medical attention, but nothing critical." There was a brief pause before Terran continued, "There are seven dead."

 

Camilla was staggered by the response. Goodness that was a lot of feral, possibly rebel Terrans "Confirm, seven dead? Not critical?" Terran medicine was fairly substandard at best, maybe the little one merely thought they were irretrievable?

 

"Seven dead. The captain, his first mate, his weapons officer, his communications officer and his three nav officers. I killed them myself commandeering this vessel." The Terran- Beckett she reminded herself- stated it like he was reading from a dictionary. More bored than anything she'd associate with someone that just killed seven sophonts.  

 

Her core ran cold, by The Everbloom, seven dead? And did the little one say he commandeered the ship entirely alone? Oh how very pressed he must have felt to be driven to do something so drastic. "I... I understand little one. You must be feeling awful and I promise you, I will see that you are safe now." 

 

"Will you now? Well in that case I look forward to seeing you." Oh dirt, now the little one was expecting her! Goodness she didn't even have most of the grafts that were commonly used when subduing ferals. She did have a few variants of Class Z and E and a lot of Class A's as well a common Class J and W for when she visited pet cafes. Surely the Captain wouldn't approve of her going aboard with such little experience and lacking the tools? Beckett continued speaking, interrupting her thoughts, "You should know that the majority of the crew was forced into the cargo bay and are largely unaware of this situation, but they should be unarmed and they're good people." Beckett hummed, "Well, mostly good people. Either way I would like to see them treated fairly and given a chance, even if they kick and scream when you roll in. No immediate domestication."

 

Ah. "I am... Sorry. I can't guarantee that. Perhaps if I-"

 

The door behind her slid open- "Apologies for my tardiness Miss Verdun, it took a bit longer to get a petsitter on such short notice than I hoped. What's the situation with the Terran Vessel?" The sudden voice of her commanding officer caused her to shoot up from the chair.

 

"I- uhm- a Terran by the Name of Beckett wishes to surrender himself, the ship and the crew. He..." Her core ached as she recounted the next part, "He killed the entire bridge crew and commandeered the ship. The rest of the crew are trapped in the cargo bay with most of the ship open to space. Outside of the dead, he says a few need non-immediate medical assistance."

 

Beckett's voice came through the comms, "Miss Verdun? Are you still there?"

 

Xer face grew dark, "I see..." Xe tapped a few times in xer pad, transferring the comms line, "Mr. Beckett, this is Wy Flint, 17th bloom, Xe/Xer and Captain of The Vervarium. I understand you have seized your vessel and pressed it's crew here and now wish to surrender both."

 

The Terran laughed, something between a snicker and a giggle, "Mister now am I? He/him is fine but I'm far from a Mister or a Sir, I do work for a living." Beckett hummed again, "Or is it worked now? Regardless, the rest of that is correct. Are you coming over as well then, or is it just Miss Verdun?"

 

The Captain shot her an amused look, "No I don't think I'll be joining the boarding party, as Captain I'm needed here. It will be Miss Verdun and several other Affini." After xe let go of the comms button xe spoke again, this time to her, "My my Miss Verdun, I knew you were thinking of getting a floret but I didn't know you were this eager."

 

Camila felt every leaf and bristle stand on end at the accusation, "I- that is- It's not like that! I just misspoke a bit and the little one took it wrong is all! I don't even have spore dispersal grafts!" She stammered. 

 

Beckett's voice came through again, "Well in that case I suppose we'll meet at a later date. 

 

The Captain hummed and poked at xer pad for a moment, "It looks like the little one was trying the truth, the majority of the crew is in the cargo bay at the far end and there's only one life sign on the bridge. I'll send the rest of the boarding party down there once the ship is repressurized. You will handle Beckett, he seems agreeable but if he proves problematic your Class Z should be fine." 

 

Opening comms again Wy resumed speaking to Beckett, "That we will, I'm very interested in learning about the events that lead to today from your point of view. We have a hold on your vessel and are working on repressurising it for ease of extraction. Help is on the way and will be there soon."

 

"Thank you. I look forward to getting out of this rust bucket." 

 

The ship chirped- "Communications closed by CSS The Valiant."

 

The Captain turned to her and grinned, "I would start getting down to the boarding transit if I were you Miss Verdun, your Terran awaits." A few vines worked quickly on xer tablet, "I've sent you the information."

 

"Beckett is not my floret!" She called back as she hurried out. The boredom she faced not even an hour ago was preferential to all this teasing! 

 

-_-_-

Camila had never felt so out of place, the youngest Affini on the transit besides herself was nearing the end of it's fourth bloom! The boarding party's leader, here was on his third domestication campaign! One of them, Xeric Rhythorn, 5th bloom, if she recalled their brief introductions, entangled a few vines into her own, "Relax dear, it's just a standard boarding. Besides we'll be handling the majority of the crew while you grab your cutie. Should be simple considering it's the one surrendering!" 

 

"I-" Camila fought the urge to correct the senior Affini, "Yes, a simple matter." She frowned, she barely even knew Beckett nor even met him properly and everyone was already assuming they were a pair! It's true she wanted a floret but she had doubts about her ability to help someone that seemed largely unbothered by killing. The little one almost certainly needed a more practiced vine. Even with the comforting words of Xeric it was hard to feel at ease about the whole situation. 

 

The transit reached the end of the line, a hole the grappling vine punched into the Terran ship. The party's leader straightened up and motioned towards two of the other Affini, "Rhythorn, Wysteria, you'll be with me. We'll be heading to ventilation systems and pumping a class Z into the cargo bay before going in. Crysmathiun," She pointed at the other remaining Affini "you'll be sweeping the rest of the ship, readings say it's clean but we need to double check and you," She said pointing at Camila, her expression softening into a warm smile, "Captain Flint tells me you'll be handling the Terran in the helm. He might be surrendering, but keep an eye or two on him, ferals can be... Unpredictable. And try to not have too much fun, you two can enjoy each other's company better back on The Vervarium." 

 

Camila could feel herself bristle, just what did the Captain tell them all?! "Alright I've got a line into the comms and the engines are dead, we move in after the announcement." She could hear the crackle of a dozen speakers just beyond the threshold, "This is Quint Flaxseed, 12th bloom, he/him, your vessel has surrendered itself to the compact. We are here to make sure you never have to be hungry or cold or unloved again. Remain calm and breathe deep and you'll all wake up in your new homes." Cutting the line Quint spoke again, "Okay you all know what to do, move out and don't hesitate to call if you need help. We're on a team not a solo op!" With a blur of motion the other four Affini darted into the ship leaving her momentarily alone on the transit.

 

Camila psyched herself up, pressed into this by a simple misunderstanding or not, she was still an Affini with a job to do and a sophont needed her help! She fed herself through the hole and checked the map tab Flaxseed had sent her. It even highlighted the path she needed to take, it looked like a straight shot to a service chute and up and that would put her basically right at the bridge. She moved quickly, using vines anchored in the walls, floor and ceiling to almost fling herself down the path and up the chute. She was at the blast door in moments. 

 

She looked around and spotted the interface- ah, it was unpowered. Strange, there was power to the rest of the ship... The little one did say he had sealed himself inside didn't he. She examined the metal, testing it with a vine. It was rather durable, but she was an Affini. Ripping it out of the wall should be fairly easy but first- "Beckett? Are you in there?" 

 

A moment passed. "Miss Verdun? My apologies but I did a number on the controls of the door, I don't think you'll be able to open it without a plasmacutter." 

 

It was rather relieving to hear the little one's voice again, to know they were at the very least okay. No, wait, focus! "I believe I can remove the door by force, can you step away?"

 

"By force you say?" He sounded slightly impressed, "Well then, that certainly works. I am afraid I won't be able to communicate that I'm ready through this door at a safe distance, so give it about ten seconds for me to get behind the captain's chair and then go ahead." There was a knock, the little one indicating they were moving now? Camila counted to ten, slowly, while pressing her thickest vines into the corners around the door. Upon reaching ten, she ripped open the walls around the door, causing it to fall into the room with a loud thud. 

 

The first thing she noticed was the overwhelming scent of fresh blood. The second thing was an impressed whistle. "Very impressive Miss Verdun! My information did note that the Affini had immense physical strength but to see you rip through DuraSteel like it was wet parchment..." Beckett lauded as she got her first look at the Terran as stepped out from behind the Captain's chair.

 

He was sizeable- for a Terran at least- probably just shy of two meters in height. He wore a hat and jacket both slate grey in color over a white shirt. He had dark, shaggy hair that came down around ears. His pants were a drab olive green, the cuffs of which were tucked into well polished and tightly laced boots. The sleeves of the Jacket were pushed up to rest above his elbows. Blood smattered every part of him, scars and burns visible everywhere the crimson didn't obscure, his hands nearly dripping with the fluid. Her core ran cold at the sight. Instinctually, Camila scooped him up, "Oh dirt, are you injured? Hurt anywhere?" Her vines began to probe and search the Terran, checking for wounds.

 

"Woah!" Beckett exclaimed in surprise, "I'm fine, I assure you!"

 

"But the bleeding-" Camila started as she continued to find nothing.

 

"None of this is mine," Beckett nodded towards the other side of the room, "it's all theirs." 

 

It was then that she saw them. Seven bodies, all lined up, bloodied white shirts over their heads, jackets over their torsos. She probed the bodies with a vine- no pulse, no warmth at all. If cold water ran through her vines before now it was ice. The poor thing, those poor sophonts, if only they had been caught before then none of this-

 

"I understand this must be a shocking sight but I'd appreciate it if you stopped stroking me and set me down." Beckett stated flatly. Oh mulch, she had been petting the Terran out of stress.

 

"S-sorry," She apologized as she gently set him down, "It's just, goodness..." She trailed off as she tore her eyes from the lifeless Terrans and took note of the room at large. There was gore all around, on the floors, walls and even a bit dripping from the ceiling. One of the panels was dented, completely covered in brain matter and bone. "What happened here?" 

 

"Well as I said, I killed the bridge crew and commandeered the ship. issued weapons are normally kept in the armory to prevent such things, but as per my contract, I was allowed to keep certain 'personal effects' on me." Beckett pulled a gun from his hip, giving it a few spins. 

 

Camila seized the weapon, wrapping it and Beckett's hands in vines, "Dear that's dangerous! You shouldn't play with such things!" 

 

Beckett looked up at Camila and raised an eyebrow, "I suppose it would be, if it was loaded. However, I'm more than willing to part with it if you'll allow me." Camila studied him briefly, finding little in his face to go on. She reached her senses out, trying to search for his biorythm and... found nothing? No, that's not right, it was there, it was just an utter absence of anything. No variations, no rhythm, just a quiet, flat tone akin to static. It was perhaps the most unsettling thing in a series of unsettling events. She noticed the little one was still staring her directly and intently in the eyes, waiting. 

 

She supposed if Beckett had wanted to cause trouble or injure himself, he had had plenty opportunity already. Cautiously, she released his hands from her vines, keeping them nearby. "Thank you Miss Verdun." He said as he smacked the right of it, ejecting a cylinder on the left and tilting the barrel to the ceiling causing six empty shells to fall to the ground. A flick of the wrist returned the cylinder to its normal position and Beckett tossed it, flipping it and catching it by the barrel, holding the handle towards Camila. Cautiously, she took it, tucking it into herself. He offered no resistance, showed no signs of trickery, but she just couldn't shake the feeling deep in her core that something was very wrong with this Terran.

 

Something about the way he held himself, the way he spoke, the way he didn't seem at all bothered by the gore covering him nor the lives he took. The completely flat biorhythm, the strangely intimate knowledge of Affini culture, that he went through all this effort to commandeer a ship just to surrender in the first place... She had to know. "Beckett... Why did you do this? What made you want to surrender to the compact at such a cost?"

 

Beckett blinked, tilted his head and furrowed his brow, Camila would've found it cute under normal circumstances, "Isn't it obvious?"

 

Did the little one want to be a pet that badly? Oh goodness did he want to be her pet? "Uhm, well it's just that, excuse me if this is rude but, you don't really seem to be the type eager to be a floret is all."

 

Beckett laughed, a deep, hearty laugh from the belly, "I- goodness a floret? Me?" He snickered a bit before his demeanor calmed again, a sly grin remaining, "No dear, I'm afraid you've got it all wrong. You see, I am a mercenary, A Dog of War. I work for the highest bidder, that is all."

 

The little did all this? For money? That nauseous feeling returned, "You seem to know a lot about the Compact, are you not aware we don't use any type of capital?"

 

Beckett frowned, "Of course I do. The Accord, or more accurately what's left of The Accord can hardly feed its wealthiest citizens, let alone the people on the ground. If I cannot buy meat for any price because there is no meat to buy, credits are worth less than dirt." He pointed a finger at her accusingly, "Besides, credits aren't the only thing to consider Miss Verdun, one must consider the consequences of going down with the losing side. No amount of credits is worth my life, or spending years on a rusting bucket of bolts with no plan and no hope. The only logical thing was to seize the ship with minimal casualties and end this charade."

 

That was... Almost sound. There were still ground rules to make clear, Camila straitened herself as much as possible with the low ceiling and let her core humm, "You are aware there will be no violence permitted. I'll not allow you to harm another sophont." She stated firmly, putting as much authority into the words as she could muster. 

 

Beckett merely shrugged, seemingly unaffected, "Fine by me, I lost my taste for it years ago. I've been looking forward to my retirement for some time now honestly." He looked around the room briefly, shifting a bit, "Can we leave? I don't care to linger here any longer and I desperately need to bathe."

 

Camila still had a seemingly endless amount of questions for the terran, but she felt satisfied that he didn't intend to pose a threat. The exact details of the day's event, what exactly he hoped to gain and other such questions could wait. "Yes, let me contact the rest of the team and tell them we're heading out and need an investigation team here." She pulled out her tab and paused, "Also I will need to carry you for the transit since you won't be going in a pod." 

 

Beckett simply nodded, "I understand Miss Verdun, I'm ready when you are." 

 

Camila typed a quick message to the rest of the team- the cargo bay team had successfully sedated the entire crew in the cargo bay and were already beginning to transport them. Crysmathium had found the rest of the ship to be empty. Outside of the incident at the bridge before arrival an all around flawless fishing mission. Each of them congratulated Camila on her work and first floret, asking for pictures once she got the cutie settled. Camila humphed, so far Beckett had proven entirely unflappable and far from the kind of Terran she enjoyed to play with. 

 

Even if he did need to be domesticated, which seemed fairly likely given the apparent emotional disconnect, she was far from the affini for the job. Whatever was going on with Beckett seemed far beyond her. Regardless it did seem that at the very least the examination period would be in her care, afterwards she could recommend him for someone that has experience with such cases. For now, it seemed, she had a temporary Terran.

 

"Is something wrong Miss Verdun?" Beckett looked up at her quizzically. 

 

"No little one, just some teasing from my comrades." She gently picked him up, wiping some blood off his face and smiled gently. "Let's get you home."

 

-_-_-

 

The plan had gone flawlessly so far. Of course it had, it was a plan they had made. They even managed to luck into an Affini that seemed largely inexperienced. As talented as we are lucky. As usual. The hardest part was yet to come however, one thorough medical examination and their secret was likely exposed. If they didn't find out that way it was still possible that it was discovered that "Joshua Beckett" was a fabrication. The only two people that knew it was an assumed name had been dealt with and lay cold on the bridge. They had even combed the ship's records extensively to make sure all mentions were as Beckett. 

 

All they had to do was be cordial and adapt as needed without ceding their independence. Easy enough. They had played many roles in their life. Surely Independent Compact Sophont would be far from difficult, whatever that ended up actually entailing. No matter what, no matter the costs or humiliation, they had to avoid being collared again at all costs.