Dog of War

48 hours following the arrival of The Valiant.  

 

Viola Amaryllis, 9th bloom, tapped against faer pad, the Valiant ’s crew displayed as a succession of adorable little faces. All the sophonts aboard had been subdued without any initial contact, a rather unique situation. Viola was one of  nearly three dozen Affini who had volunteered to help process them, taking time off from the Archeoxenobureaucracy for the task. Fae felt ready for another floret now, and hopeful that fae could find the perfect cutie today~

 

All of fae’s candidates were freshly out of stasis pods and had been placed into separate rooms, ready to be awoken as soon as fae was ready. Not wanting to waste any time when there were cuties to meet, Viola pulled up the first Terran’s information and entered the room.

 

Nicholas Sawyer. 26, Listed as male on documents, but browsing history suggests that may be inaccurate. Last recorded information points to heavy feralism, but is over two years out of date. 

 

Viola set the pad down to look at him. He was scrawny; a long time in microgravity hadn't done him any favors. The flesh still clung a bit to the bones in places, the damage yet to be fully reversed. It saddened fae to see a precious cutie in such a state. Viola woke him up, injecting him with a light class E and sedative as well.

 

His eyes opened slowly until he suddenly bolted upright, his eyes searching the room. "What the fuck?!" He paused as he caught sight of faer, "You're- this is- don't eat me!"

 

Perhaps fae should have used a heavier Class E. Viola let her voice resonate. "Calm down little one, you are safe now. I am Viola Amaryllis, 9th bloom, fae/faer. No one is going to eat you, or force you to work, or do anything but make sure you are happy and taken care of." Honestly, where did feralists even get these ideas?

 

"Fuck you, weed! Terra will-" 

 

Viola was not going to stand for that. Fae emitted a low, primal growl composed of clicks and creaks, stopping Nicholas in his tracks. 

 

"Much better." Fae grinned, satisfied. "Now, I have a few questions and I want you to answer them for me. Any further misbehavior will be looked upon poorly, do I make myself understood?" 

 

Ahhh, fae could feel the fear prick up in little Nicholas as he nodded. Viola had to regain faer composure, losing control of faer predatory instincts wouldn't be becoming. "Okay, let's start with the basics: what is your name?"

 

"Nick Sawyer," he stated before nervously clarifying. "Well, it's Nicholas, but everyone uses Nick."

 

Viola hummed to let him know fae heard. "Age?"

 

"26." 

 

"Alright, you joined the Navy at age 20, and were assigned to the Valiant about three years ago, correct?" 

 

Nick thought for a moment. "Sounds right?" Viola had the taste of the little cutie’s honesty now, fae was ready to get into the real questions.

 

"According to our records, you were involved in impressment, weeding out 'plantfuckers,' and other feralist activity. Is this also correct?" Viola read the list of activity under the frowning face as though it were a sentence.

 

The taste of fear was in the air. "I- that's- we were just-" Nick stammered, sweat beginning to percolate. 

 

Oh dear, it seems fae layered it on too thick. Nick never saw the needle as Viola delivered more Class E. "It's okay dear, we do not punish sophonts just because they need help to do the right thing."

 

"'S just... What we were doing..." He mumbled as the fight drained from his body. 

 

"I know dear." Viola's core ached, both with pain at the thought of the cuties doing such terrible things to each other and with the desire to help. The wild was no place for such adorable sophonts. "I understand."

 

"What happened, anyways?" Nick asked. "I was just doing my duties and then the klaxons went off and the ship was venting. Everyone was panicking and running to the cargo bay." 

 

How to tell it? "...It seems one of your crewmates commandeered the vessel you were on by themself and surrendered." Downplaying the... losses... seemed appropriate.

 

Nick's face scrunched up. "Commandeered? What? What happened to the Captain? Who the hell commandeers a fuckin' Leviathan?"

 

Viola was familiar with the basic story; some cutie couldn't take being feral anymore and killed the helm crew to surrender for domestication. Utterly adorable, outside of the bloodshed. Captain Flint had done their interview xerself. Fae pulled up the information out of faer own curiousity. "It seems like that would be... Joshua Beckett."

 

Nick's eyes shot wide, and he started shouting. "Beckett?! Beckett's a plantfucker?!" 

 

"Language," fae chided, placing a vine on him. "It's a very good thing Joshua decided to end your little rebellion; you were all suffering from some degree of malnourishment. If he didn't, you would all be in much worse condition." 

Nick swallowed. "R-right, sorry. Still, never would have thought it would have been Beckett. That guy is the most uptight motherfu-" he stopped himself under Viola's gaze. "Uhm, uptight man I've ever met. I didn't think he was capable of betrayal; man was like, a paragon of Terran Ideals. Always working, always focused, tougher than hell. Even ate his synthcubes like they were nothin'."

 

A paragon? Viola would love to get faer needles into that. Fae would have to follow up to see if the little cutie was actually claimed or not. "Well I'm sure next time you meet little Joshua, he will be very different from the man you knew."

 

Nick frowned. "Yeah, well, it's not like I really knew him. Didn't even know his name was Joshua. What happened to the Captain? I can't imagine Cap just let Beckett take the helm." 

 

Viola really wished he hadn't asked. "Ah, well," fae sighed. "I don't know how to say this... The Captain is dead, as well as the rest of the helm crew."

 

"I see." Nick closed his eyes, all his muscles tensed. There was a maelstrom in his biorhythm; sorrow and rage. "So what now?"

 

What to do with little Nick Sawyer? This one was a likely candidate for domestication, but his feralism didn't seem to be that deeply rooted. Nick clearly cared somewhat for his fellow crewmembers and seemed pliable enough. Perhaps a wardship? Captain Flint had asked the volunteers to be a bit lenient. Plus, most wardships ended up with domestication anyways. 

 

"Well I don't think you can be independent right away, but I doubt you need immediate domestication either. You will be assigned an Affini guardian who will be tasked with evaluating you for a few weeks, and then a council will decide if you can be independent or need domestication." 

 

Nick was tangibly upset, something clearly on the tip of his tongue. When he finally spoke, he simply grumbled "whatever." 

 

Viola entered the information into faer pad. "I'm going to administer a Class Z now. When you wake up, your guardian will be here." 

 

Nick merely turned away. A minute passed in silence before fae accepted that he wasn't going to talk, and slipped in her needle. He drifted off shortly after as Viola finished up on faer pad and closed the case, bringing up the next one as she moved to their room. 

 

This file was... entirely blank? What? Terrans were adorable, but they were lousy at record keeping. Seems fae would have to write the whole thing faerself. 

 

Viola entered the room and examined the Terran. Masculine build and a bit heavy-set- could be great for cuddles. 

 

At faer gentle administration of antiserum. the man blinked awake. "Fucking hell! Goddamn weed!" He belted, trying to move away from Viola. "You'll never break me! Terra Indomitus! Terra Eternal!"

 

Viola narrowed faer eyes, focusing down on the man like a predator eyeing its prey. "Language, petal."

 

"Fuck you weed! Suck my cock and balls from the fucking back!" 

 

The cutie was certainly worked up. Fae ignored the insults. "I just wanted to ask a few questions. What is your name?" 

 

The Terran growled. "I ain't tellin' you shit, weed! Lick the shit out of my asshole and go fuck yourself!"

 

Well that's enough of that. Viola injected the Terran with a class Z and made several notes on his file. 'Cuddly' was sure to be a big hit at whichever Class J cafe they ended up in. 

 

Viola continued on, processing several more Terrans. Some were angry, some cried, others seemed to not be processing reality. The myth of this 'Beckett' character kept growing as gathered morsels of information on him- he was feared as much as he was respected. No one personally knew him, and no one got in his way. He had an almost mystical quality from the sound of the little one’s tales, which just made him even more intriguing.

 

The day had been long, but Viola finally entered the final Terran's room. They had chestnut brown hair, shaggy around the ears. They were average height, and seemed malnourished, a bit lean in the face. Viola pulled up the Terran’s information on record.

 

Ash Harmon, female, 35. Born in a mining colony, joined the Terran Navy at 18 to get out. Worked as an engineer. Slight social media presence, nothing personal on it, but they/them were listed as pronouns on one site, so it was a good possibility they identified as nonbinary. All data collected by the Terran Accord and its Ad Agencies seemed to suggest an isolated, lonely individual; cut off not only from connection with others but also themselves. 

 

Viola felt a deep ache in faer core. Seeing these stories so often was a true test of fortitude, but it only furthered faer faith in the work fae was doing. Fae woke up Ash, giving them the same Class E mix fae had administered about a dozen times today.

 

Ash slowly opened their bleary eyes, only to shut them once again. Viola dimmed the lights to about sixty percent, helping them adjust. They sat up, facing her, and opened their eyes slowly. 

 

They recoiled, eyes wide. "A-Affini!" They whipped their head from one side to the other, frantically searching for an exit. Viola sighed; the recommended Class E dose simply hadn't proven effective with such ingrained feralism. Ash never saw the vine creep in, only felt it deliver its payload.

 

Fae caught them as their body relaxed, settling them back onto the bed. "I've given you a Class E xenodrug, it'll help keep you calm while I ask you a few questions. I am Viola Amaryllis, 9th bloom, fae/faer."

 

The look of panic on Ash's face slowly melted into concern. "Y-you're- oh god, we really did get betrayed..."

 

Viola started to exude a calming aroma. "It's okay dear, you are safe now."

 

Ash was silent for a few moments, looking around. "Please don't send me to the mines," they squeaked.

 

Viola giggled. "No sophont is ever asked to work, and mines are far too dangerous for a cutie like you. We are not going to eat you either, for that matter." 

 

They sighed, relaxing. "It's really over, huh? Geeze..."

 

"Yes dear, it is." Fae smiled to reassure them. "Now, can I get your name?" 

 

"Ash Harmon, Petty officer second class." 

 

Fae ignored the second part, opening the editing feature on their profile. "Pronouns?"

 

Ash blinked, stunned. "Uhh, They/She? I guess?" 

 

Viola added that to the file. "Would you like me to update your gender on file, little one?" 

 

"What?" Confusion was plain on their face. "Why are you asking about gender shit?" 

 

"Language, please." Fae chided. "I merely wish to make sure our records and your profile are correct."

 

"Non-binary?" They scratched their head. "I guess?" 

 

Viola corrected the file, and added a note about how they seemed unsure, "Thank you. Now I am going to ask a few questions, and I would like it if you answered as best as you can."

 

Ash fidgeted a bit, still nervous through the Class E. "Alright."

 

"First, I just want to confirm a few things." Viola tapped the pad for emphasis. "You are a member of The Valiant , and joined the Terran Navy age 20." 

 

"Y-yeah." They seemed worried about the implications. Perhaps this one could truly be independent. 

 

"How do you feel about your time on the Valiant?" Viola probed.

 

"It was... bleak." Ash seemed haunted as they continued, "People were getting spaced almost every day at one point. The Captain went mad. The ship was out of port so long and there were only like a third of us left, the Captain had us pulling eighteen-hour days. When that spook Beckett had Jen- our lead- spaced it got bad."

 

"What's a 'spook?'" Viola asked.

 

"Y'know! A spook!" Ash exclaimed. "He's like OCNI or something. Always doing sketchy shit and meeting with the Captain and doing maintenance no one in engineering knew about. He doesn't flinch or seem to care at all when people die. And he's got that fucking gun on him. Since when do 'advisors' carry custom personal sidearms?"

 

Viola brought up the growing notes on 'Beckett' and jotted that down. None of the others had mentioned that he was an operative of some sort, just a joyless busybody. "I see... I'm very sorry, petal, but I promise you Beckett will never hurt anyone again."

 

"He's the one that brought us here, isn't he? Did he kill the Captain?" They sounded distant. Oh dirt, Viola should have chosen faer words more carefully. 

 

Viola bowed faer head. "Yes, I'm afraid so. He killed the bridge crew as well."

 

Ash sighed. "I see." They seemed forlorn, remaining in silent contemplation until they sighed again, and looked Viola straight in the eyes. "Listen, I know you're probably gonna do something I won't like, but promise me you'll make sure Beckett doesn't get whatever the hell he's looking for. I don't know what it is, but he can't have it."

 

Viola was taken back. "Even if Beckett had come here for some sort of mission, he would never succeed in causing harm. The Compact is well equipped to handle all manner of spies and dishonest actors."

 

Ash didn't look convinced. "I don't think you get it. Beckett's different . He waited two and a half years to make his move, he's as patient as he is cold. You need to keep an eye on him."

 

Viola had a hunch. "You knew he was up to something and were trying to stop him, weren't you."

 

"...Didn't do it well enough." There was true remorse in their voice. "He was always a dozen steps ahead. I never even figured out what he was up to until it happened."

 

"I promise you, I'll personally make sure Beckett is kept under close watch." Viola was already going to do that, but Ash didn't need to know that. 

 

Ash hummed for a long time. "Alright. So what now?"

 

Time to make faer final verdict of the day. "Well you don't seem violently feral but I don't think you can just go free either, petal. I'm going to offer you a wardship. It's a temporary state where an Affini makes sure you can take care of yourself and be independent."

 

Ash hung their head. "I see." 

 

The little seemed defeated, Viola couldn't just let that stand. Fae tilted Ash's face up to meet faer eyes- they had rather cute dark pupils. "Listen, it's going to be okay." 

 

Their mood didn't seem to change as Ash weakly smiled, "I really wish I could believe that." 

 

Viola slid in the needle with the Class Z. Shock flashed across Ash's face before the energy drained out of them, falling back asleep. They couldn't worry if they were asleep at least. Fae finished up Ash's processing, and headed out.

Some refreshing mineral water and a delightful stop at the class J later, sitting at faer home office, Viola was finally ready to crack into this 'Beckett' mystery.  Fae pulled up his file on the Affini servers.

 

It was practically blank. There were a few notes from Captain Flint, a brief mention of his work as a mercenary, and a scant few mentions from Terran corporate records regarding payment. This was... strange. If it had been completely blank, that would be one thing. This was just missing so much! All personal information simply ceased to be generated after the age of 20. No social media, nothing from the Ad Agencies, no file with OCNI despite working with prolific companies, it was as though he didn't exist. Everything after that was a rare after action report, or a bill, or something else. 

 

The longer Viola sorted though what little information there was, the more it seemed like Beckett had gone from some ruffian on a dying space port to one of the most respected mercenaries in the Accord in a single afternoon. Specifically, August 21st, 2544. Viola could taste conspiracy in the air; Beckett was not who he seemed. If faer hunch was right, his name wasn't even actually Beckett. 

 

From what Viola did have, fae could see he was nothing short of a brute. Beckett's name was attached to a number of murders, and a few massacres. Flint's notes indicated his current wardship was a sham, but why xe didn't immediately opt for domestication was beyond Viola. Fae didn't even have all his information and could tell he needed an experienced owner with a firm vine, not some green first bloom. 

 

It was still nagging at Viola that fae couldn't find anything on Beckett with the OCNI. The agency had files on every Terran. Certainly if Viola could find whatever Beckett's name in those were, fae could crack this case wide open. 

 

The OCNI had files in the hundreds of quintillions, but Viola had access to the best AI cross-referencing in the Compact; fae could cross reference the events on his official record with what was in the database and see what they had to say. Swiftly, fae entered the parameters and started the machine. 

 

After several long ticks, it dinged back.

 

There was maybe one hit for every dozen inputs. Most had been recovered from destroyed and damaged databases, restored by others in Viola's profession. The majority of the passages were intact, but between the OCNIs language and just enough damage, everything was somewhat opaque. Viola felt a predaceous shudder in faer core; this was starting to become a proper hunt. 

 

Fae needed to find the throughline here. Viola scrolled through several articles at once, reading them in tandem. Then, fae found faer lead; one individual referenced in each of them

 

'Jackal.'

 

It was well past dawn before Viola finally stopped to rest.