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Haydn couldn’t believe it. The florets of the Aspefilla had, under the noses of the weeds, organized a union. Not only that, but they were on strike! Every single floret had walked out of their enslavers' vines and begun to demand their rights. For the first time in his life, Haydn was thankful for organized labor.
Something in his brain still couldn’t square it. He remembered all of Taro’s attempts at “socialization” with florets. All of them had been the same way: needy, high as kites, completely subservient to their owners, with sickening smiles and blown out eyes. That image did not mesh with what had to be a sophisticated underground operation. He had crushed his fair share of unions, and he knew that they didn’t just happen . And yet, the overnet was full of photos of their rallies and strike lines, filling entire sections of ship with angry, organized Terrans.
Maybe the weeds had tried to break his hope in humanity, Haydn thought, show him the most far gone florets to make me give up. Haydn laughed as he scrolled past more photos of the union. There was a rally called, not far from where he was imprisoned. Ideas formed: strategies on how to infiltrate leadership, rough estimates of how many Terrans he would need to take over the ship, probable locations of remaining rebel outposts. With the tech and bodies on this ship, he could reverse the whole war, reclaim Terra and…
“What are you thinking about petal?” Taro said, vines creeping around him, her giant, broad leaves covering his entire torso.
Haydn snapped back to reality, “Nothing.”
She peered over his shoulder, easy with the extra few meters she had on him, and looked down at his screen. “Are you thinking of joining that floret union? I treat you just fine, Hibiscus.”
She couldn’t know his plans, he needed to divert, “My name’s not…”
A vine shushed him, “We’ve talked about this petal, you don’t have to hurt yourself with that name anymore.”
Haydn remained silent, struggling would only make the mockery last longer.
The vine slipped away and Taro continued, “Good girl.”
Haydn shivered. Focus. “I’m going to go on a walk.”
“Okay Hibiscus,” Taro said. “Let me administer your meds first.”
“You don’t need to…” Haydn began to back away. Vines coiled around his arm, gentle, yet as his squirming proved, implacable. He locked his eyes onto the ground, he would not make the same mistake he did last time. He felt a small poke in the crook of his elbow, then the receding of Taro’s vines.
“Didn’t even resist this time,” She said. “Good girl.”
Haydn shivered again. He needed to act fast.
“Alright petal, have fun.” She plucked one of her flowers, and placed it in his growing hair. “Let me know if you need help!”
Haydn continued to look down, until the overwhelming presence of Taro faded. He then turned around, eyes still bolted to the floor, and walked out the hab. His stomach churned, face going hot. How dare that weed belittle him. When he and the other Terrans took control of the ship, Taro would be the first to be airlocked. As he got further away, the burning rage within him faded, leaving only a soft ache. He turned back to his plans, pulling out his tablet and mapping out his route. It would be a short walk, 10 minutes at most.
As he walked, a realization crept up on him. The bustle of the ship was gone . He looked around, finding all the stores closed, leaving only a screaming silence. He shuttered and the hairs on the back of his neck stood, letting him know that Taro had not given him Class E’s today. As proud as it made him, it was uncanny to see a ship this large so empty. Even during his evening walks, there was still a crowd of night owls.
He walked up to one of the closed stores, one of those damnable J-Cafes. A sign on the door read, “Pets On Strike, Closed Till Further Notice,” which comforted him for a moment. The black glass served as a decent mirror, allowing him to see himself. The changes were more drastic now: his hair was down to his shoulders, his face’s harsh angles smoothed, and by his estimate, he was a few inches shorter and smaller. The subtle beginnings of curves poked through the dress Taro had forced him in.
Despite being the best one out of all the “options” she gave him, the dress was still bad. It was a simple sundress, yellow flowers on green fabric, with subtle outlines making it seem like massive leaves encased him. It marked him as hers , the matching collar on his neck strengthening the message. Even his eyes had softened, the pupils slightly dilated, making him look like yet another floret.
But the worst thing was that the girl in the mirror was pretty, beautiful even. She was nothing like him and yet mimicked his movements perfectly. He couldn’t look like that and yet he did. Something in him felt relieved by that fact, another bit of conditioning from Taro, same as when she called him a “good girl.” He was losing himself.
Haydn dug his nails into his palms. He’d make that weed pay. He focused on the flower woven into his hair, an ache filling his stomach, and tried hyping himself up to crush it under his heel. The wave broke, and the thought dissipated. Taro would just put in a new one in. What was the point? He breathed out and walked away, reminded how much he despised mirrors.
Further on, the distant roar of a union filtered into the streets. Haydn’s heart began to pump, his legs screaming to run towards it. It would make him look weak, overly excited, his plan required his first impression be one of cool confidence. He kept his pace steady, breathed in, then out. This would work, this had to work. He began following the sound of cheers, growing louder and more forceful with each step he took.
With one final turn, he was greeted by the largest group of Terrans he had ever seen in his life. The massive square was packed shoulder to shoulder with them, radiating out from a stage built in the center. All the cheering and shouting and singing blended into one beautiful cacophony of freedom, shaking Haydn to his bones. But what fueled the fire in his belly, was the fact that there was not a single Affini in sight. That was a victory all in its own right. Haydn smiled, straightened out his dress as much as he could, and approached.
Before the crowd, there was a small booth manned by two Terrans. A banner in the front said, “Florets United Local 1579,” with a logo of a ring of flowers encircling a raised fist. Haydn began the first step of his plan by walking up.
“Hi there!” The man on the right said. “I’m Edel Roja, fifth floret, he/him. I haven’t seen you around? Are you part of the union?”
“I’m not!” Haydn said. “I was hoping to join.”
“Wonderful!” the woman on the left said, pulling out a tablet. “All you have to do is sign up here! I’m Rose Azula, second floret, she/her, let me know if you have any questions.”
“Thank you! I will," Haydn said in an all too sweet voice, silently thanking his OCNI training. Rose handed over the tablet, revealing a sign up form thoroughly floret proofed, big bold letters and several ways to type. All it required was his name. He typed in “Haydn Dumm.”
“Error, name not found in database, please try again.”
Haydn sighed and typed in “Hibiscus Alocasia,” and heard a small ding.
“You should be all set,” Edel said.
“Don’t forget to grab some union treats!” Rose said.
Haydn looked down at the merch that filled the table. Many were the standard affairs, buttons, shirts, and stickers with the union logo. Some were… less conventional, a branded dog bowl, a scratching post, tags for collars. Haydn winced, and had to remind himself that it was a start. This was not the first union he’d subvert, he could work with this. In the end, he picked a button with the slogan: “Getting the rights we deserve!” and the logo, pinning to the collar of his dress.
He passed by and began wading through the crowd. The closer he was to the stage, the more likely he was to be noticed by the union leadership. The organization of the event astounded him. Despite how packed it was, he found no difficulty moving. On top of that, there were several stations dotted in the sea of Terrans for food, water, and medical aid. The fact that they did it all under the weeds’ noses was awe inspiring. If only the OCNI had this organizational talent at the start of the war. The use of numbers to scare off potential Affini repression by threatening violence to their florets was brilliant.
Soon he found himself in front of the stage, right as the first speaker stepped on. He made a mental note of her. She was a stereotypical floret, companion dress, collar, lesbian flag pin, and blown out eyes, but she had a confidence in her step that he hadn’t seen in other florets, a look of beautiful determination on her face. She was obviously a leader, probably a major one given her starting speaking role. She stepped to the microphone and said:
“Hello my fellow sophonts.”
The crowd erupted into cheers.
“I’m Lily Agapanthus, First Floret, She/Her, and I am proud to be speaking to you all at this momentous occasion.”
More cheers.
“Right now, after a week of striking, The Leadership of the Aspefilla is finally at the bargaining table with our representatives, considering our demands.”
Haydn’s suppressed smile became a face splitting grin. Forcing the Affini to the table in the first place meant this was a very strong union.
“It has been a long fight, I know. Many nights without cuddles, many days on the strike line. But I will tell you, when we stick together and fight, we will win!”
Chants of “Yes we can!” rang through the crowd, a rush of energy washing through. Haydn joined, shouting as loud as he could. No wonder people joined these things. With this kind of power, he could do anything.
“And what will we win?”
This was it, Haydn knew, heart pounding in his chest, this is the turning point.
The crowd responded with a resounding: “Less Rights!”
Haydn’s blood went cold. What.
“That’s right,” Lily said. “No more will the Affini treat us as people. We demand to be treated fully as property!”
This can’t be happening.
“I myself have suffered because of the Affini’s oppression. Just last week, my Mistress asked me if I wanted to be cuddled, wasting valuable seconds she could’ve been cuddling me! And I know many of you have the same experiences.”
Haydn felt his plans burn into ash, along with any hope in humanity as a species.
“I’d like to bring up a good doll of mine who will tell you its story.”
A human sized porcelain doll walked onto the stage, long black hair draping behind it, wearing the most pathetically pink dress imaginable. Its voice was the most diminutive and submissive thing Haydn had ever heard.
“I’m Quinn Colline, Second Floret, It/Its. When I volunteered for domestication, Wire Holder promised I would become the most perfect doll in the world. Do you think she kept that promise?”
The crowd shouted back, “No!”
“You’re right, I mean look at me! I’m walking and talking instead of sitting still on a shelf. Do you think that's fair?”
Another resounding no. The doll finished and other speakers talked, but Haydn’s thoughts drowned them out. Was this really how humanity was to end? Was this the cumulative result of millennia of struggle? Begging to be subjugated more? Did they ever even stand a chance? Why the hell did he…
Someone was pushing him onstage, and Haydn found himself in front of stars knowing how many florets, holding signs with slogans like “We Want Less Rights!” and “Proper Domestication For All!” They were all watching, waiting for him to start.
All his public speaking training fell away. His heart rattled in his chest, echoing in his ears. The crowd's uncaring eyes stared, digging into his deepest recesses. They knew everything, all the people he had killed, all the movements he suppressed. They had to know. In the distance, a collar was beeping.
“And what’s your name?” Lily asked him.
Something between a whine and a choked sob came out. The eyes softened and Haydn realized something, something much worse than being exposed as the killer he was. They saw him as just another floret in need of their mistress. The ache came back in force, and Haydn could no longer ignore what it meant.
His body needed Taro. He started hyperventilating, soaked breaths cycling in and out as he held back tears. This couldn’t be happening, he couldn’t break. If he broke, there would be no hope for the rebellion, no hope for humanity. Terrans would forever be a subdued species, groveling at the roots of the Affini for less. Despite this knowledge, Haydn’s body burned for Taro’s touch. He couldn’t break, not now, not in front of everyone.
A hug by Lily interrupted his thoughts. Her warmth soothed part of the ache, but it still gnawed at his soul. Lily wiped away his tears, then in one swift move, lifted Haydn into her arms, and carried him down the steps with ease. Haydn’s face burned wildfire hot, and he buried himself into her arm, earning a coo. He was set down amongst a pile of pillows, an Anomalocaris plush placed in his hands. He looked up and saw Lily, eyes full of concern, head haloed by the artificial sun, with a smile that matched. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
Someone whispered in Lily’s ear, and her face grew serious. Lily leaned down and said:
“I’ll be back in a moment to check on you,” kissing Haydn before turning and getting back on the stage.
Haydn was struck dumb, ignoring the roar of cheers to focus on the more important matters. She was probably just trying to calm him down. It meant nothing. Florets were flirty and physical all the time. Lily was a lesbian and he was a guy. It meant…
A voice rang out through the haze, “Hibiscus Alocasia, there you are!”
Haydn looked and saw Taro, running towards him at full speed. His mind told him to flinch, but his body leaned forward. In the blink of an eye, he was tangled in her vines, looking up at her disappointed face. The ache was gone, replaced with overwhelming content.
“I told you that you didn’t need to be a part of this union,” Taro continued. “I’m trying to give you room to grow into yourself. You’ve been through enough already.”
Haydn felt shame sink into his gut. A soft “sorry,” was mumbled into her vines. He hated how pathetic it sounded.
Taro smiled, “Now come on, let’s…”
“Excuse me Miss,” a voice said.
Both of them looked down. It was Rose holding a tablet.
“Is Hibiscus Alocasia your floret?”
Taro looked at Rose like if an ant had begun talking to a Terran “She is…”
“I’m her steward, and in Article XXV, Section 1, Sub Clause A of the Floret United 1579 CBA in effect starting…” Ding! “...now, any floret who has suffered severe emotional distress is mandated one mind break or suitable alternative within 24 hours of the initial incident.”
Taro was stunned for a moment, vines still. Then, she turned to Haydn, showing off all of her very sharp and pointy teeth in a terrifying smile, saying, “Is she now.”
“Now, wait, we don't have to…” Haydn said, flailing in her ever tightening vines.
“Sorry petal, but my vines are tied,” Taro said, several needle tipped flowers rising up.
Haydn looked over at Rose, hoping to find some sympathy, only to see her smiling and giving a thumbs up. Vines pulled his face back, forcing him to stare into Taros brilliant prismatic eyes.
“Keep looking petal, let yourself fall into me.”
Haydn could do nothing but listen. Several needles drove into his neck.
“Good girl.”
“And that’s why us florets need a union,” Hibiscus concluded. A chemical hug radiated from her neck. Mistress was happy with her!
“My partner is right!” Lily continued. “We make sure you’re treated like proper pets, regardless of conditions or owners.”
The florets of the Abelia responded with a massive round of applause. After some final questions and a few thank you pets from the sympathetic Affini in the room, another successful meeting was over. The Abelia ’s local was smaller than some of the others, but it was having massive success, already getting recognition from the Affini captain as a bargaining unit. With more of these events, it was bound to finally get that first contract.
“So…” Lily said, sweeping Hibiscus up into a crushing hug. “How are you doing?”
“Eep.”
“Aww, I take that as a good sign.”
Hibiscus could only shake her head. As much as she liked presenting and promoting the union, the events left her too exhausted to speak. The only thing that cured it was…
“Mistress!” Hibiscus scrambled out of her girlfriend’s arms, and jumped headfirst into the waiting vines of her owner.
“There’s my little union maid!” Mistress said. “You did such a good job!”
“Thank you Mistress!”
“And you know…” Mistress grinned, causing Hibiscus to shutter. “It’s time for your union mandated break…”
There was a pinch in her neck, and a cocktail of xenodrugs began radiating out from it. The last cognizant thought Hibiscus had was: “Thank Stars for the Union.”