Rolas clutched the small cuttings of the revertant herb in her pocket, its blue leaves shimmering faintly under the greenhouse lights. What started as a simple decision, didn’t seem as simple anymore. Obviously she had to meet up with Zarel and get the herb back to Mitra to restore her body, but maybe the plan didn’t need to be rushed. Maybe if they stayed just a bit longer undercover they might discover even more valuable information that could help them in the future. What if there are more clues in this facilities research that could clear up the mystery around their prophecy. Of course all of these thoughts were clear excuses for her to hide behind so she could cling on to the one thing that gave her happiness currently, her coworkers, no…friends, that she had grown close to over the last day and a half.

Her comm link buzzed softly again, Zarel’s urgent message scrolling across the small screen: “Rolas, status? I’m… changing. Need that herb fast.” The words hung in her mind like a weight, pulling her back to their mission, to Mitra waiting as a bog creature on Cryzx, to the prophecy that bound them as triplets.

But then Lira’s voice cut through the hum of the irrigation systems. “Come on, Rolas! The harvest party’s starting. Jax is firing up the grill and you don’t want to miss out on the bio-engineered veggies he’s cooking up. They taste like heaven.”  Again, Rolas looked torn, as her eyes went from Lira to her comm. “You can’t bail now; you’re basically family at this point.”

That was the sentence that took hold in Rolas’ heart. They considered her family now.  Rolas glanced at her coworkers: Lira with her petal-hair fluttering in excitement, Jax giving a rare grin as he adjusted his tool belt, and the others waving her over. The greenhouse felt alive, not just with plants, but with laughter and camaraderie she’d rarely known on their endless space voyages. Her job tending to exotic flora and solving plant growth puzzles with her bionic arm had grown on her. It was steady, rewarding, and fun, which was a far cry from the chaos and transformations of her normal adventures. In that moment of reflection, Rolas made up her mind.

She typed a quick response to Zarel, “The Herb is secured. But we have time left on our mission. Our cover hasn’t been blown yet so what’s the rush. Let’s stay undercover for another day or two to avoid suspicion. Hang tight.” It was a half-truth.  The harvest party was calling, and deep down, Rolas wanted just one night of normalcy. So she cleared her communication link with Zarel and turned back to her botanist friends with a rare smile. “You know what, I’m in. My errand can wait a little bit longer.” she said to Lira, pocketing the comm link. “Lead the way.”

As they headed to the outdoor pavilion, Rolas pushed thoughts of Zarel aside for the meantime. The mission could wait a little longer. What harm could one evening do?

Back in the medical bay, Zarel’s tail flicked nervously under her increasingly tight nurse’s uniform. The bovine changes were advancing with know end in sight. Her breasts had ballooned out even further, straining against the fabric, and a soft moo escaped her lips every so often when she least expected it. The suppressants Swenson Alpha had given her were barely holding the line. She felt a growing docility, an urge to comply that terrified her. But what terrified her most was Rolas’ response to her plea for help.

Her comm link vibrated with Rolas’s reply, “The Herb is secured. But we have time left on our mission. Our cover hasn’t been blown yet so what’s the rush. Let’s stay undercover for another day or two to avoid suspicion. Hang tight.” Zarel’s eyes widened in frustration. Time? She didn’t have time. The transformations were accelerating, and Alpha’s “treatments” were becoming more invasive, more controlling.

“No, Rolas, you don’t understand,” she whispered urgently into the device, her voice trembling. “This serum I accidentally infected myself with is changing me faster than expected. I’m growing horns, I have a full on tail, and I’m starting to have other bovine urges. I can feel my mind slipping and these docile thoughts keep creeping in. We need to extract now. Get the herb here before—”

A shadow fell over her. Swenson Alpha stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her blue eyes narrowing. Zarel knew exactly how suspicious she currently looked and was fully prepared for Swenson Alpha to foil her mission. “Nurse Zarel? Who are you communicating with? This isn’t break time.”

Zarel’s heart raced, her budding horns throbbing with panic. If Alpha discovered the comm link traced back to Rolas in the greenhouses, their whole infiltration would crumble. In a split-second decision, Zarel crushed the device in her hand, the screen shattering with a spark. “N-Nothing, ma’am. Just…checking vitals on my personal scanner. It must have malfunctioned.”

Alpha stepped closer, her gaze sharp and unyielding. She glanced at the crushed remnants on the floor, then back at Zarel’s flushed face. “A scanner, huh? You seem awfully jumpy for this to be a simple malfunction. Are you hiding something?”

Zarel swallowed hard, her enhanced curves heaving with each breath. “No, ma’am. Just… the changes. They’re making me clumsy.”

Alpha’s lips curled into a knowing smile, but her eyes remained cold. “Clumsy. Right. Well, if you’re that far along with your changes, then perhaps it’s time you met my sisters. They’ve been dying to evaluate some new… talent. Come with me.”

Zarel had no choice but to follow, her tail swishing involuntarily as they left the med bay. Destroying the communicator had saved Rolas for now, but it left Zarel isolated and even deeper in the ranch’s clutches.

The walk to the central ranch house felt eternal, Zarel’s hooves, wait feet, were clopping awkwardly on the dirt path as subtle changes had already reshaped her soles into something more cloven. Swenson Alpha led her in silence, her lab coat billowing like a cape of authority.

The house was a sprawling, rustic mansion with high-tech accents, with automated feeders and genetic scanners at every door. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of hay and something sweeter, almost intoxicating. Alpha guided her to a lavish lounge where two women lounged on oversized couches, sipping from frothy mugs.

“Beta, Gamma, meet our promising new nurse, Zarel. She’s progressing quite nicely don’t you think?”

The Swenson sisters, Beta and Gamma, were a stark contrast to Alpha’s severe professionalism. They were thick and curvy, their bodies a testament to the ranch’s enhancements.  Both had wide hips, generous bosoms spilling from skimpy outfits that left little to the imagination. Beta wore a cropped top barely containing her assets, paired with denim shorts that rode high on her thighs.  Her long wavy hair cascaded like golden wheat. Gamma sported a halter top tied loosely and a mini-skirt that fluttered with every giggle, her curves jiggling as she shifted.

“Ooh, yummy, fresh meat! She has progressed nicely indeed. Look at those cute cloven feet! She’ll fit in perfectly with the others.” Beta cooed, her voice bubbly and playful. She bounced up, circling Zarel with appraising eyes.

“And look at those horns starting to poke through. How adorable! And that tail? So swishy. Alpha, you always bring us the best toys.” Gamma licked her lips, setting down her mug filled with what smelled like an oddly sweet milk. “Mmm, yeah. She’s definitely got potential. Alpha you always know how to scout out the best talent amongst our help. They always make for the best pets. And I love how innocent they all are at first. It makes me want to break them in slow and steady.  It also helps make ’em extra docile and fun.”

Zarel stiffened, her bovine instincts urging her to enjoy the banter, but her resolve tried fighting back. “Pet? I’m not—”

Alpha cut her off with a wave. “Ah-ah-ah, no talking nurse. We are having a business discussion. However, I do apologize for their forwardness. They’re not as business-minded as I am. You see, Beta handles the ‘entertainment’ herds that we train here at our personal home on the ranch. And Gamma l, she handles the breeding programs. Both are experts in their fields, and have a rather…hands-on approach.”  Her sister gave Zarel a disturbingly hungry smile. Now, since you destroyed that ‘scanner’ of yours, and we both know you were using it for some hopeless undercover mission, I think some time with both of my sisters will help give you a better perspective on what we do here.  And maybe their training will show you that whatever scheme you were cooking up was pointless, and that your true purpose in life is to serve your loving new owners.”

Zarel’s eyes went wide at the mention of owners, but before she could process everything, Beta grabbed Zarel’s arm, her touch lingering. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s get you fitted for a proper collar. We’ll start slow, maybe a little serum to boost those udders. A little accelerant for that growing libido. And before you know it, you’ll love being our favorite hybrid cowgirl.”

Gamma giggled, pressing close from the other side. “Yeah, and once you’re all pervy and obedient, we can play more properly. Docile pets like you are the best. They moo so cutely when we milk ’em.”

Zarel’s mind reeled as they led her deeper into the house, the sisters’ skimpy clothes brushing against her. The transformations were one thing, but this perverse game? She needed Rolas more than ever, but with the communicator gone, hope was fading fast. Meanwhile, somewhere in the pavilion, Rolas laughed with her new friends, oblivious to the peril closing in.