Despite how her colleagues joked, Perennial didn't dislike humans. Who could? They had tiny little hands and clumsy little legs and such absolute certainty in their ability to fight the universe. She just preferred avians, especially the ones that flew. There was something about the way they moved- on land they were stiff and sluggish, but then they spread their wings and became joy incarnate. She couldn't imagine why anyone would choose a human over that, especially when humans seemed intent on constructing ugly, cramped, miserable little battleships like the Verona, whose corridors she was currently navigating with all the poise and splendor of a collapsing beaver dam.

It wasn't as though this had been a particularly difficult rescue. The ship had apparently lost all propulsion, but every light was on, and half the crew seemed preoccupied with little capsules that even at a glance they should have recognized as sugar. The hardest part had been navigating shuttles out to intercept it, since whatever system failure had caused the problem was also blasting radiation in every direction. No sense in pulling it through the intake port; better to dismantle the silly thing here in the void, once they had coaxed out all of the passengers.

As she rounded one corner, Perennial felt a momentary twang of pain and realized she had scraped a vine on an exposed metal panel. Even if there were still any humans on board, it was going to be tricky getting them out without scratching their delicate skin on one of the innumerable sharp edges.

Dirt. Dirt dirt dirt, thought Perennial as she pulled herself through another tight tunnel. Why am I even on this hunk of scrap when I should be taking care of-

She stopped in front of a thick door. It was so tempting to try and convince herself that no human would hide in there, but of course, it would seem like the perfect place. With a sigh, she reached out several thick vines and forced open the entrance to the incinerator. 

"Ah, you're here. I hope the crew didn’t give you too much trouble"

Perennial paused. There was indeed a human inside, looking the picture of innocence, sitting directly beneath a nexus of flame jets. Even unlit, they made her nervous. Still, there was etiquette to follow.

"Hello, little one. I am Perennial Inosculata, Third Bloom, and I am, er" Dirt dirt dirt "I'm here to stop you from doing something really stupid, okay?"

"How would you define stupid?"

The human tilted its head to one side- adorable but unhelpful. Perennial groaned internally. So this one was trying to be clever. It would undoubtedly say something very brave before attempting to slam a button and ignite the fire, oblivious to the fact that Perennial's shipmates had control of the ship's electronics and that she herself could pin its arm to its side in barely a second. 

"As an example, would it be stupid to set up a radio-controlled bypass on the fuel line, triggered by a deadman switch?" At this last word, the human subtly gestured towards a small device in its hands.

Okay, so it's REALLY trying to be clever, thought Perennial.There was every possibility that the human was bluffing, but was she willing to risk it? Clearly this needed a delicate touch.

"I understand, you are scared," said Perennial, raising her upper vines in a gesture of submission, while those resting on the floor began blossoming with flowers. Once the human had inhaled a few spores, the rest would be simple. "We're already bringing your little friends back to our ship, but if you come with me, I'll make sure that you get to play with them as often as possible. They didn't try to fight too much, so they're going to get softer treatment."

"Good, I am glad that my plan worked. No casualties on either side. I trust?"

"Your plan?"

"Yes. Had I not intervened, you would not have taken the crew."

"Oh, so you cut the engine," smiled Perennial, her voice humming with biorhythm. "You're such a clever human, aren't you."

"You presume much," said the human. "Is it not possible that no human on board was planning to fight? Perhaps the officers deliberately sabotaged the ship to ensure detection. Maybe, having failed at every other type of warfare, the rebellion was trying their luck at psychological."

"What? How?"

The human nodded towards the floor, where Perennial saw a baggie of capsules very similar to those she and the other affini had taken from the crew. "Cyanide isn't particularly cute, is it. Would finding a ship full of corpses have inspired you to call for a truce?"

Perennial reeled at the mental image. "No," she said. "If anything, I guess we would want to finish domesticating humanity sooner, before they did more stuff like that. But seeing it would’ve hurt."

"Agreed. Instead, someone snuck on board and swapped the supply with placebos."

"Very good, little one. You saved their lives."

"We saved their lives," corrected the human, smiling in a way that Perennial was beginning to find irksome. Still, she smiled back.

"So, what is it you want? Would you like us to let you go free, to return a hero?"

"Thank you for ascribing valorous intent to my actions, but it seems much easier to switch sides. After all, the affini always win." 

Okay, either it thinks it can trick the whole Compact, or it actually has two brain cells to rub together. 

"Oh, we'd love to have you." 

"First, may I ask about the process for defecting? You might imagine I'm not eager to share a prison with those who will consider me a traitor."

Perennial scoffed. "We don't have prisons, love. Nor do we have labor camps, or make human stew, or any of the other scary lies you've been told."

"Forgive my paranoia, but I have no way to determine which lies you consider scary. Does that include the one about being made into pets?"

Stones. This human clearly thought too highly of itself to accept that adoption would make it happiest, but Perennial hated lying at least as much as the next affini. 

"It's nuanced? And not forced on everyone, if that's what you're asking."

The human sighed. "Disappointing, but it could be worse."

Perennial bristled. "It very much could be worse. If you do actually end up an independent sophont, I promise that you'll be lonely."

She was surprised when the human brightened up. "Ah, so that is an option? I was wondering whether you were just stalling me until some sort of passive tranquilizer took effect."

At this, Perennial noticed the bank of fans lining the walls of the incineration chamber, venting her pollen and drowning out her rhythm. Mulch!!!

"Listen, you're very cute, but can we move this along? If you're as smart as you think you are, then you've guessed that I have a decent chance of preventing you from releasing that switch, even from here, and failing that I can almost definitely pull you out of the fire before you're seriously injured. Either way, you'll have proven to be a danger to yourself and others, and that's grounds to put you up for adoption immediately. So by the Everbloom, please just walk on out of there so we can get going."

"One question."

"Fine."

"What switch?"

At this, the human opened its hand. Without thinking, Perennial reached out with a vine and grabbed, crushing the human's fingers around the useless piece of scrap electronics.

"Ow," said the human.

"I'm so sorry," gasped Perennial, withdrawing her vine. 

As fragments of the not-a-deadman's switch fell to the floor, the human examined its palm. "Only a couple scratches. Still, I wonder where this ranks on how much injury a terran has sustained surrendering to an affini. Top fifty, would you think?" It looked up and saw that Perennial had withdrawn into a ball.

"I'm awful," she muttered. "I'm the worst affini who ever lived. What was I even thinking, imagining I could..." She buried her head in her vines.

Eventually, she noticed that the human was standing next to her. "Forgive me for prying, but you seem upset about something beyond our conversation."

Quickly, Perennial stood up. She attempted to tower over the human, a challenge in the cramped, low corridor. "It's not your concern, little one."

"Back to deflection, then?" The human sighed. "Well then, perhaps we should move this along, as you suggested."

"Gladly." Perennial moved to scoop the human up in her vines.

"I request that you permit me to walk," said the human, its tone cordial yet full of force, "as a gesture of goodwill and a demonstration that I am neither your captive nor your prize."

"Are you always like this?"

"Yes."

Perennial groaned. "Then may I respond with a practical reason, that I can get us where we're going much faster by carrying you."

"What a privilege, to be both scorpion and turtle," said the human vaguely, its sentence utter nonsense to Perennial. "I accept your rationale and agree to your request."

It wasn't actually that much faster, considering how many gaps and corners wound up being just slightly too narrow for Perennial to safely carry the human through them, but they made steady progress. Eventually, she remembered a point of conversation that had been skipped earlier.

"So, I use she/her pronouns. How about you?"

"Ze/hir interests me. I doubt there is any time better than this to make a change."

"I mean, any time is good, you're not going to find much transphobia in the Compact."

"That’s a relief.  You affini seem more physically capable and technologically adept than terrans, imagine that being wasted on an inferior moral framework."

"...That's a weird way to praise someone."

"I hope it’s clear that I am not challenging you, at least in how you compare to humanity. The dissolution of capitalism was long overdue, and the terran government was corrupt and fascist."

Perennial hummed in vague agreement. Maybe it was just being away from the incinerator room, but she was feeling significantly better. Soon enough she'd be back on the ship, and someone else would have to deal with-

"Oh, I forgot to ask, what's your name?"

The human thought for a moment.  "In the spirit of helping you keep your promise, I shall introduce myself as Lonely."