Page 2 of Oh No, I Shot A Spaceship And Kissed An Alien Cyberchef

When I glance over my shoulder, Nelan’s expression has hardened into his usual scowl. This guy does not know how to smile, at all.

“I never suggested you were helpless. Merely... incompetent with our technology.”

“Oh, because that’s so much better,” I snap. “Well, maybe if someone had bothered to give me a proper tutorial instead of just expecting me to figure it out on my own?—”

“You seemed quite insistent on doing things your way,” Nelan interrupts, his tone icy. “I believe your exact words were ‘Back off, spaceboy. I’ve got this.’”

I feel heat rising in my cheeks. Okay, so maybe I had been a bit stubborn about learning to use the alien tech. But after years of being told what to do and how to do it, I’ve developed a bit of an independent streak. Sue me. Or don’t. I can’t even figure out how to make coffee, let alone the intricacies of planetary law.

“Fine,” I said, stepping aside and waving my hand at the offensive device. “Since you’re clearly the expert,why don’t you show me how it’s done? Dazzle me with your alien barista skills.”

Nelan nods curtly, moving to stand beside me. His fingers fly over the control panel, inputting commands with practiced ease. Show-off.

“The key,” Nelan says, his tone clipped and professional, “is to input the correct molecular structure for your desired beverage. Simply asking for ‘coffee’ will confuse the system, as it has no frame of reference for Earth drinks.”

“We call it not-coffee, thank you very much,” I retort. My cheeks flare with embarrassment at how I’m acting like a stubborn child. Of course it isn’t coffee; we are out in the middle of who-knows-where in space. This not-coffee is the best we abducted girls have been able to come up with. It’s our little slice of home, even if it tastes more like a slice of despair and wet socks. At least it has caffeine in it, or something close to it. In all honesty, not that far off from some well-established coffee chains on Earth.

I watch, grudgingly impressed, as he manipulates the holographic display with practiced ease. It probably helps that he can read the damn language, rather than simply guess at the meanings. The whole molecular structure thing… yeah, that’s beyond me. Big words don’t make things taste good, though. Last I checked, “delicious” isn’t part of the periodic table.

“I’ve sampled this ‘not-coffee’ you all seem to crave,” Nelan continues, his brow furrowing in concentration. “Perhaps this variation will be more to your liking.”

A steaming stream emerges from the machine’s nozzle, filling my cup with a dark liquid that smells tantalizingly like coffee, but with subtle notes of something... different. Exotic. Like a vacation in a mug, if your idea of a vacation involves being kidnapped by aliens.

“There,” Nelan says. “I’ve adjusted the formula slightly based on my understanding of human taste preferences. I’ve saved it to the system’s memory, so even you should be able to replicate it in the future.”

I reach for the cup, my fingers brushing against his as he hands it to me. A jolt of... something shoots through me at the contact. Probably just static electricity. These alien fabrics are hell on my hair. Definitely not something that implies I’m attracted to him. Nope. Not at all. And if my heart skips a beat, it’s clearly just a minor cardiac arrhythmia. Nothing to see here, folks.

“Thanks,” I mumble, cheeks heating as I take a sip. It still isn’t quite coffee, but it’s close enough to satisfy my craving. Better than the sludge we were making previously. It’s like... if coffee had a one-night stand with a spice rack and this was their love child.

Nelan just stares at me as I sip… unrepentant. It’s a bit unnerving, being scrutinized so much… and yet a small part of me whispers that I love the attention.

Despite all my complaints, and my admittedly poor behavior, the guy still helped me get this life-saving drink. Maybe he’s not so bad. Maybe we can find a way to get along and share the space…

“Maybe…” The kitchen door bursts open, cutting off my offer of a truce.

Zoe stumbles in, her hair a wild mess and her eyes barely open. She looks like she had a rough night. Or morning. Her mate, Taruk, waves at us as he walks past the door, a wide grin on his scarred face. No guessing there then.

“Coffee,” she groans. “Need coffee.”

I can’t help but laugh at my friend’s zombified state. “Coming right up, Sleeping Beauty. Though I think you need a gallon of it, not just acup.”

Within moments, the breakfast rush begins with the other girls filing into the room and finding their usual seats. When it rains, it pours, and these girls are thirsty. Literally.

Zoe collapses over the kitchen counter, looking ready to sleep there if given the chance. I flash a smile at Elana as she grabs the stool beside her, looking equally tired.

A couple of the girls have recently found their mates. It’s no surprise that they haven’t had much sleep lately. If only all of us were that lucky. Or unlucky, depending on how you look at it. I’m still on the fence about whether alien romance is a dream come true or a cosmic joke.

I steal a glance at Nelan from the corner of my eye. The guy’s arrogant, rude, infuriating and… yep, definitely cosmic joke level.

“Try this,” Nelan replies, serving Zoe. I grit my teeth. Is it because he’s serving her, or is it because it’s made by that damn machine? I’m not entirely sure what this mix of emotions I’m feeling is.

I don’t like it.

“How about breakfast?” I ask, eager to regain control of the situation. “I’ve prepped pancakes. Who’s up for pancakes?”

A chorus of half-hearted cheers rings out… if those moans and grumbles can even be considered cheers. We aren’t all morning people apparently. More like morning zombies, shuffling towards the promise of carbs and caffeine.

I smirk as I crack eggs into a bowl, heaped with the closest thing to flour I’ve been able to find. Some sort of grain that puffs up and thickens when exposed to liquid. At least, I think it’s a grain. Please, for the love of God, don’t be some sort of bug or something… I’ve already had enough protein in my diet from swallowing my pride this morning.

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