Page 25 of Oh No, I Shot A Spaceship And Kissed An Alien Cyberchef

Though I might explain to her the misunderstanding later tonight… Just so she’s aware of how some males are willing to challenge another for the female. I’d of course fight for her, but I’m a chef, not a warrior. I’d rather not fight if possible. And that just requires her to declare me as her mate, just as much as she is mine.

Major Zoreth’s eyes light up when she replies back to him, giving me a gleeful glance. “Earth cuisine? How fascinating. I can’t say I’m familiar with... paella, was it? Please,tell me more.” He steps closer to Laura, his body language open and inviting.

Where is that human Zoe when you need her? She’s quick to violence. Maybe I can throw her at him, use her as a living weapon.

“It’s a complex dish,” I say, unable to keep the edge from my voice. “A mixture of rice, various meats, and vegetables, all cooked together in a large, shallow pan. We’ve substituted Grokian grains for the rice and used Drek’nar tentacles as one of the protein sources.” Take that, Mr. Fancy Horns. Can you make tentacles taste good? I think not.

The Major turns to me, raising an eyebrow. “Ah, you must be the famous Cyberchef. I’ve heard whispers about a Volscian working here. It’s... unexpected to find one of our own in such a position.”

My lip curls up in a sneer at the insult. It’s true that our people tend to be warriors. Our species is known throughout the universe as being some of the strongest fighters, with many species wishing to ally themselves with us. To point out so bluntly that I’m slaving away in the kitchens…

To him, I’m just a simple chef, not a warrior worthy of respect. The old insecurity rises within me, the feeling that I’ve somehow failed my people by choosing this path. Maybe I should have become a warrior. I could have been great. I could have been a contender. Instead, I’m just a lonely chef with a fancy metal arm and a collection of really sharp knives.

“Thank you,” I say stiffly. “It’s... gratifying to explore new culinary traditions.”

Like the tradition of not punching guests in the face. It’s a challenging one, but I’m tryingto master it.

I cannot hit him, as much as I want to. Not only would it create a scandal for the hotel, but my dear Laura stands between us. I will never, ever risk her being hurt. Not even by my own actions. Plus, I just got this cybernetic arm polished. Blood is so hard to get out of the joints.

Zoreth scowls at me. “Have we met before?”

“We have not,” I reply promptly. I’d remember crossing paths with him, especially given his attitude towards those of the working class. Besides, ever since the incident, I make it a priority to limit my interactions with others, especially those who might recognize me. It’s not paranoia if they’re really out to get you, right?

Laura looks between us, a small frown creasing her brow. “Major, if you don’t mind my asking, how long have you served under General Karzak?”

I breathe a sigh of relief as the male shifts his focus to her, and then promptly the frustration rises at how he’s switched focus to her. I can’t win.

“Oh, I’ve had the privilege of working alongside the General for several years now,” Zoreth replies, his attention fully back on Laura. He leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I could tell you some fascinating stories about our victorious war campaigns, if you’re interested. Perhaps later?”

“We already have plans,” I snap, stepping up beside Laura. I grit my teeth, forcing breath between them. “As long as Laura is still interested?”

The question hangs in the air. The only sound in the kitchen is my furiously beating heart. Will she claim me as hers, so that we might form a full mating bond? Or will I be left here, holding my ladle in disappointment?

Suddenly a hiss fills the room. The pot’s boiling over, liquidcascading down the sides and into the fire.

“The food!” Laura cries, eyes wide. She moves to grab a heat-proof glove, all to protect her delicate skin. Major Zoreth is faster, dashing to the pot before I can reach it. He quickly moves it from the fire, stirring the remaining contents to ensure they don’t burn.

With a relieved breath, I see that much of Laura’s hard work remains.

“Did I ruin the meal?” Laura asks, looking at me, distraught.

I move to her side, hyperaware of Zoreth’s presence on her other side. The sauce looks perfect to my trained eye, but I lean in closer, inhaling deeply. The rich, complex aroma fills my senses. There’s a subtle bitterness about it. Perhaps Laura squeezed the Grokian blood fruit a bit too hard. It’s subtle; most wouldn’t even notice it. The way she looks at me, so hopeful that I’ll approve of her hard work… I can’t bring myself to even criticize her slightly. Especially after yesterday, when she made me realize just how difficult I was being.

Honestly, I’m proud of her. She’s made this entire dish by herself. Chefs train for years, and she’s mastered it in one day. She’s extraordinary.

“It’s good,” I say softly. “You’ve done well, Laura.”

She beams at me, and for a moment, it’s like we’re the only two people in the room.

“I had a good teacher,” she replies, her voice equally quiet.

The moment is shattered by Zoreth’s deep voice. “I must say, watching you work is truly inspiring, Laura. You have quite the talent. Have you ever considered a career in a more... prestigious establishment?”

“I—”

The kitchen door swings open. Again. I’m going to buy ablasted lock the moment I get a chance to breathe. Screw waiting till tonight! Maybe I can steal one off one of the hotel’s suites. No one has to know it was me that took it… surely no one will notice that they cannot get into a room they visit multiple times a day…

“The kitchen’s closed to guests,” I announce, turning to the doorway.

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