Page 31 of Oh No, I Shot A Spaceship And Kissed An Alien Cyberchef

I’m never going back to that nightmare. I will rise above my ex and be the person I’ve always wanted to be. And I’ll prove my worth by saving Nelan, one bowl of soup at a time if I have to.

“Hold on, Nelan,” I whisper. “I’m coming for you. And when this is all over, we’re going to have a long talk about timing and proper proposals. Because I swear, if you don’tpropose then I will, and we both know how bossy I can be. I probably won’t even ask, just demand it.”

I giggle at the visual, before quickly sobering. It’s a good thing this guy doesn’t seem to mind my nature. He’s probably the only one in the universe who finds my bossiness endearing. Talk about a match made in... well, wherever we are in space right now.

I push open the door to our medical ward. It’s basically a storage room crammed with tables, shelves, and what I am pretty sure are a few boxes of linens. On the far wall, already sitting up and watching me warily, is the General. Rather than a bed like I expected, he sits in what looks like some sort of futuristic space pod. He’s got a few stiff wires plugged into his body, hooking him up to the device like some sort of robot covered with skin.

It’s a really disturbing visual.

I’m one of those weird people that never kept up with technology. Sure, I knew how to use a computer to check emails. If you gave me a spreadsheet... I might look at you blankly. My phone lets me use my bank accounts, but that app was designed to be simple to use for people like me. In other words, technological toddlers.

All my life, I’ve trusted the things directly in front of me. Things that I can touch, smell, and feel. It’s why I learned how to cook. It felt safer. No computer could take away my job. It could never match what made home cooking unique.

I think that’s why I waged war with the NutriSynth all this time.

“I’ve brought soup,” I tell the General as he struggles to sit up. “My abuela used to say that soup was full of strength. Though her English wasn’t the best, and her soup required you to be strong with how much chili she put in it.”

I suppress a chuckle, remembering how her “healing” soup often left us gasping for water. It was less about healing and more about making you forget whatever else was ailing you.

I place the tray down in front of him, within arm’s reach.

“On Earth, a lot of people swear by soup. Magical healing,” I explain, with a smile. “I’m hoping it’ll help you at least feel better until the poison is identified.”

“Thank you,” he rasps. Just as I hoped, he takes the tray from me without hesitation.

“Rist is bringing the detective here now,” I tell him as I pull up a nearby table for him to rest his food tray on. “But I had some questions for you first, if you don’t mind?”

The General nods to me as he breathes in the steamy air above his bowl.

“What made you consider defecting to support Rist?” I just throw the question out there. No hesitation. No take-backsies. Subtlety, thy name is definitely not Laura.

The General chokes on his food. “I... what?—”

“I overheard you talking to Rist the other night,” I explain, handing him a napkin. “You said that life on Latium is getting worse. Do you know someone that needs help?”

The general stares at me for a long, hard moment. Despite the fact that he’s still a voodoo doll to a machine, I’m reminded just how much larger he is than me. It would be really easy for him to deal with me. Given everything going on, he could probably just claim I attacked him first. It’s funny how sometimes abusers can claim self-defense when you fight back. It’s funny how some people will abandon you when you finally stand up for yourself, even those you thought you could alwaysrely on.

It’s so incredibly hard to not feel alone, to not blame yourself. It takes a strength to stand up again. It’s also taken me a long time to learn that there are good people out there, people who will treat you right if given the chance. You just have to give them a chance. Not everyone in this universe is evil. Some people are genuinely good. Some people genuinely want to help others, even if it means doing questionable things. Like becoming an assassin, or leading a coup, or maybe poisoning a meal. You know, normal Tuesday stuff.

And then maybe, one day, you’ll be strong enough to help others out too. Even those who don’t show their wounds for all to see. Because let’s face it, some of us are walking wounded, held together with duct tape and sheer stubbornness.

“I have no mate, and I am the last of my line,” he tells me with a heavy swallow. “There is no one in particular to help.”

I take a hard, long look at the General. If I had to make a guess, he’s a bit older than Rist and the other guys. He’s got fine grey strands threaded throughout his black hair. Even sick, he holds himself straight and with dignity. His muscles are honed beneath his clothing, his hair impeccable. His horns are capped in metal, gleaming under the low light. And his eyes are sharp, studying me back just as intensely.

I snort.

“You better watch yourself while you are here at the Alien Hotel,” I tell him with a smile. His eyes narrow at that. Perhaps I could have phrased that a bit better. “There are a lot of women around, and some girls have a thing for a guy in a uniform.”

“A thing?” He asks.

I wave at him, indicating his whole body. “You aren’t to my tastes, obviously. But I’m certain there’s already gossip going around, maybe some cat fights about who gets first pickings. It’s just the kind of things that Earth girls do.”

“I understood about half of what you said,” he tells me plainly.

I smile as I explain, “I’m sure there’s at least one of my friends wondering if you’re mated and if you’re looking for one.”

I indicate that he should continue eating before it gets cold.

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