Page 29 of Oh No, I Shot A Spaceship And Kissed An Alien Cyberchef

“Of course he didn’t!” Rist laughs, squeezing my arm reassuringly. “He was accused, but even during the... interrogation... he maintained his innocence. No, I truly believe my brother was at fault, not that I could ever prove it. And unfortunately, that meant that Nelan and others suffered. Some more than most.”

Rist’s eyes dart to Taruk the Beastmaster. Scarred Taruk. The one everyone jokingly calls ‘the beast.’ One particularly brutal scar running across his face, all because he was captured...

“Is Nelan going to be okay?” I ask, wrapping my arms around myself. I’m not a fighter. There’s no way I can just storm in and rescue him, like some damsel-not-in-distress. I mean, the best I can do is drug the food!

Damn... maybe I am more vicious than I first thought I was.

Rist’s expression darkens. “I’ve sent an emergency request for a Galactic Federation detective to investigate. Given we are in Federation territory, Major Zoreth will have to comply. But given Nelan’s history, it’s still likely he’ll be automatically charged with the crime without a thorough investigation.”

The room erupts in outrage.

“They can’t do that!” Zoeshouts, her fists clenched at her sides.

“It’s not fair!” another girl cries out.

“What happened to innocent until proven guilty?” Elana demands, her hand already reaching for one of her many concealed weapons.

I feel my heart sink. This can’t be happening. Not to Nelan. Not when we’ve just... when I’ve just...

“I’m not a fighter,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. The room falls silent, all eyes turning to me. “I’m not like Elana or Sutek. I can’t just storm in and save the day. I’m just... I’m just a chef.”

A chef who can’t even save her own soufflé from falling, let alone save a wrongly accused alien. My ex was right about me; I’m a failure.

Charlotte steps forward, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Laura, you’re not just anything. You’re smart, resourceful, and you know Nelan better than anyone here.”

I look up at her, tears threatening to spill. “But what can I do? I feel so... helpless.”

Charlotte’s eyes light up behind her thick glasses. She looks far too happy for this situation. It’s like she’s just cracked the case in one of her mystery novels. “Well, if this were one of my mystery novels, what would the protagonist do?”

I blink back the tears, considering her words. What would a plucky heroine in one of Charlotte’s books do? She wouldn’t sit around feeling sorry for herself, that’s for sure. She’d probably whip up some elaborate plan involving disguises, secret codes, and inexplicably convenient coincidences.

“She’d... she’d find the real culprit,” I guess, the gears in my mind starting to turn. “She’d gather evidence to prove Nelan’s innocence.”

Charlotte grins. “Exactly. And she wouldn’t do it alone, would she?”

I look around the room, taking in the determined faces of my friends. My chosen family. For the first time since this nightmare began, I feel a spark of hope.

“No,” I say, straightening my spine. “No, she wouldn’t.”

I take a deep breath, pushing down the fear and doubt that’s been plaguing me. It’s time to step up. It’s time to fight for what matters. I’m a chef, and it’s time for me to serve up some justice.

For a moment, the old insecurities threaten to overwhelm me. “You’re defective,” the voice in my head sneers. “You can’t save anyone. Not even yourself.”

I swallow hard, pushing back against the familiar words. I’m not defective. I’m not. And I’ll prove it, not just to everyone else, but to myself. Maybe I am broken in some ways, but that doesn’t make me worthless. I can still fight. I can still make a difference. After all, some of the best recipes come from happy accidents and broken rules. My abuela taught me that.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” I announce, my voice stronger than I feel. “We’re going to find out who really poisoned the General, and we’re going to do it before that Federation detective gets here. It’s time to turn up the heat on this investigation.”

Elana grins, cracking her knuckles. “Now you’re talking. What’s the plan, boss?”

I can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. It’s like watching a puppy get excited about going for a walk, if that puppy was armed to the teeth and had a penchant for explosions. “First, we need to identify the source of the poison. Right now, there’s no real proof it came from the cooking.”

“I can help with that,” Charlotte offers. “I’ve read enough forensic science books to know a thing or two about toxicology.”

“Perfect,” I nod. “Zoe, we need you to check the security cameras over the past few days for any suspicious activities. You know, like how we used them to round up all those yum-yums. If we can’t find any other source of poison, then focus on the one’s in the kitchen, even if it’s just to prove Nelan’s whereabouts. His alibi.”

Zoe’s eyes light up. “Ooh, detective work! I’m on it!”

“Elana, Sutek,” I turn to the deadly duo. “We need a way to reach Nelan discreetly. Maybe you can find a way to sneak onto the Volscian spaceship? At least let him know that he’s not alone in this.”

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