Oh No, I Shot A Spaceship And Kissed An Alien Cyberchef (At The Alien Hotel #3)

Chapter 8

Chapter

Eight

LAURA

I slip out of Nelan’s room, my bare feet silent on the cool floor. The corridor is mercifully empty; the last thing I need is to be caught doing the walk of shame by one of the other girls. Or worse, by Rist. The guy’s pretty much the same age as me, and yet somehow he’s become a bit like a father figure; someone you really don’t want to let down. Or see you in last night’s clothes. Talk about an awkward family dinner.

As I sneak along the corridor, memories of last night flood my mind. Nelan’s strong arms around me, his lips on my skin, the way he made me feel safe and wanted... My body aches in all the right places, a reminder of the night’s activities. I shake my head, trying to dispel the images. What was I thinking?

“Way to go, Laura,” I mutter to myself. “Fall into bed with the first guy who shows you a bit of kindness. Real smooth move there.”

I can’t escape the nagging voice in my head.

You’re weak. You’re pathetic. You swore you’d never let a man have this much power over you again .

By the time I’ve reached the kitchen doors, I’ve built up a solid wall of self-loathing. It’s probably the only thing I’ve ever successfully built without burning, breaking, or turning into an unidentifiable goo.

“Pull yourself together,” I tell myself sternly. “You’ve got work to do. The girls will be wanting breakfast soon. And God knows they turn into hangry velociraptors without their morning not-coffee.”

I’ll lose myself in the familiar routine of food prep. It’s always helped in the past. Chop, dice, sauté – it’s like meditation, but with the constant threat of finger loss. But as I push through the door, I’m greeted by the concerned faces of Elana and Charlotte. So much for my stealthy entrance. I might as well have come in with a marching band playing “I Just Had Sex.”

“There you are!” Elana exclaims. “We’ve been worried sick. It’s not like you to be late for breakfast!”

Guilt gnaws at me. In the aftermath of overhearing Rist and the General, followed by my night with Nelan, well, I may have slept in a bit. Or a lot.

“I’m sorry,” I say, moving to the NutriSynth to start on the not-coffee. “It’s been... a long night.” And a short morning, apparently.

“Spill,” Zoe demands, perching on a nearby counter. “Did the General like the food? I know how long you worked on that one dish.”

I take a deep breath, focusing on the motions of preparing hot drinks. For once in my life, the machine actually works. Oh hey, the power’s back on! I didn’t even notice at first. I’ve been distracted by other… things. Nelan’s big thing, to be precise. And by “thing,” I mean his... personality. Yeah, let’s go with that .

“He liked it. But that’s not... I overheard something. Something big.”

Three pairs of eyes lock onto me, curiosity and concern evident in their expressions. I feel like I’m about to drop the galaxy’s juiciest gossip bomb. Move over, space tabloids.

“Define ‘big,’” Charlotte says, leaning forward. She shoves her round glasses up her nose, the thick lenses making her eyes comically large.

I glance around, making sure we’re alone, before lowering my voice. “The General isn’t here for a vacation. He’s trying to convince Rist to go back to Latium. To lead some kind of coup against his brother.”

A stunned silence falls over the kitchen.

“Holy shit,” Elana breathes. “Are you sure?”

I nod, recounting the conversation I overheard. As I speak, I watch their expressions shift from shock to worry to determination.

“So what do we do?” I ask. “I mean, this is way above our pay grade, right? Last I checked, ‘Intergalactic Political Conspirator’ wasn’t in my job description.”

“Is it, though?” Charlotte muses, her brow furrowed in thought. “We might not be politicians or soldiers, but we’re not exactly uninvolved bystanders either. This hotel, this refuge Rist has built – we’re all a part of it.”

“Charlotte’s right,” Elana agrees. “If Rist leaves, what happens to us? To all the refugees who’ve found safety here?”

The weight of the situation settles over us like a heavy blanket. I hand out mugs of not-coffee, the familiar routine a stark contrast to the gravity of our conversation. It’s weird that only yesterday I hated this task… and now, I want to have a long future serving drinks to my besties. Funny how impending doom changes your pe rspective.

“But what can we actually do?” I voice the question we’re all thinking. “It’s not like we can march up to the General and tell him to leave us all the hell alone. ‘Excuse me, sir, could you kindly take your coup and shove it?’”

“No,” Charlotte says slowly, “but we can support Rist. Let him know he’s not alone in this. That he has a family here, people who care about him.”

“And maybe,” Zoe adds, “we can start preparing. Just in case things... escalate.”

We all nod, the implication clear. If Rist’s brother decides to come after him here, we need to be ready. I mean, until recently it was a running joke among us residents that there are cannons powerful enough to shoot ships out of the sky on our rooftops. Sutek proved that’s a real thing. He’s been ready for a while. Now it’s time for us to be too. This time we’ll turn the cannons on, for good this time. Nothing says “Welcome to our hotel” like a face full of laser fire.

“Okay,” Zoe says, clapping her hands together. “So we’ve got a plan. Sort of. Now, can we talk about the elephant in the room?”

She turns to me, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Laura, honey, you look like you haven’t slept a wink. And correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that Nelan’s shirt you’re wearing?”

I glance down at my body in utter horror, heat rushing to my face. I hadn’t even realized I’d grabbed one of Nelan’s shirts in my haste to leave his room. Great. I might as well be wearing a neon sign that says, “I Just Got Laid.”

“I... we...” I stammer, searching for words. Eloquent as always, Laura.

“Oh my god, you totally slept with him!” Elana squeals, practically bouncing in her seat. “Finally! The sexual tension in that kitchen was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. And then probably serve it as a main course.”

“Keep it down!” I hiss, mortified. “It’s not... I mean, we did, but it’s not like that. It’s complicated. Like, quantum physics complicated.”

“Laura, it’s okay if you have feelings for him.” Charlotte, ever observant, leans forward, her eyes searching my face. She says gently, “But that’s not what’s bothering you, is it? You look like you’re carrying the weight of the galaxy on your shoulders. And trust me, that’s not a good look with bedhead.”

I feel the walls I’ve carefully constructed around my past start to crumble. These women are my friends, my chosen family. If I can’t trust them, who can I trust? Besides, they’ve already seen me cry over burnt toast. This can’t be much worse.

“The thing is...” I start, my voice barely above a whisper. “There was someone. Before...”

The kitchen falls silent, the only sound the quiet hum of the NutriSynth in the background as it churns out another not-coffee. Probably plotting world domination, one mediocre beverage at a time.

“He seemed perfect at first,” I continue, the words spilling out now that I’ve started. “Charming, attentive. He made me feel special, you know?”

The girls nod, encouraging me to go on.

“But then... things slowly changed. So slowly that I didn’t notice.” I wrap my arms around myself, as if I could physically hold the memories at bay. “He started... commenting on what I wore, who I talked to. He’d get angry if I spent time with friends or family.”

I see understanding dawning in their eyes, mixed with growing horror.

“It got worse,” I say, my voice shaking. “The put-downs, the constant criticism. Making me feel like I couldn’t do anything right. Like I was worthless without him. Before I knew it… I…”

I pause to take in a shaky breath. There’s more – so much more – but I can’t bring myself to voice the worst of it. The night it all came to a head when his emotional abuse turned physical. The terror, the pain, the overwhelming shame. It’s like trying to describe a black hole – words just don’t do justice to the crushing weight of it all.

And it is crushing. Nothing has ever been so hard as realizing in that moment I needed to walk away. That I was better off for it.

I try to tell them, to say anything, but the words lodge in my throat. Even now, after all this time, I can’t talk about it.

“Oh, Laura,” Elana breathes, rushing around the counter and pulling me into a tight hug. “I had no idea. Here we’ve been joking about your love life, and you’ve been carrying this around.”

“None of us did,” Zoe adds, her usual bubbly demeanor subdued. “Why didn’t you tell us? We could have... I don’t know, formed a protective circle around you and hissed at any man who came near.”

Despite her words, she makes me laugh. It’s little moments like this that remind me that what I did, what I had to go through every day to get to this point, was worth it.

I grip Elana back, holding tightly onto them like they might suddenly slip through my fingers. “I was embarrassed, I guess. Ashamed. I mean, I should’ve known better, right? How could I let someone treat me like that?”

“It’s not exactly something you casually bring up in conversation,” Charlotte comments from her seat. She walks up to me, putting a hand on each of my shoulders until I’m forced to stare into her overly large eyes. Through the glasses and my tears, she looks ridiculous. I also wouldn’t change anything about her.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Charlotte says firmly. “None of what he did was your fault. You hear me? If I ever meet this guy, I’ll introduce him to my favorite kitchen knife. For purely culinary purposes, of course.”

“I know that. Logically, I know that,” I say with a deep sigh. “But emotionally? It’s hard to shake that feeling, you know? And last night, with Nelan... I felt myself slipping. Wanting to just let go, to let him take care of everything. I can’t do that again. I won’t. I won’t let a guy ever have that kind of control over me again. This time I’ve got my own superhero cape, thank you very much. Even if it is a bit wrinkled and smells faintly of garlic.”

“Oh, honey,” Zoe says, hugging me tighter. “Wanting to feel safe, to let someone else shoulder some of the burden – that’s not weakness. It’s being human.”

I pull back, wiping at my eyes. “But what if I’m wrong about Nelan? What if I’m just seeing what I want to see? What if I’m just repeating the same mistakes?”

“Laura,” Charlotte says, her voice gentle but firm. “I’ve seen the way Nelan looks at you. The way he respects your skills in the kitchen, even when he’s being a grumpy ass about it. That’s not a man looking to control you. That’s a man who sees you as an equal.”

I snort, thinking about all the times we’ve argued in the kitchen. “It’s not like he wants me here,” I say bitterly. “He probably dreams of a Laura-free kitchen. Probably has a dartboard with my face on it.”

Charlotte smiles softly. “Yeah he does. Want you here, I mean. Not the dartboard thing. He looks miserable when you aren’t here, and every single time that door opens he’s practically jumping on the person, just hoping for it to be you.”

I wipe my eyes, scowling. I didn’t know that. “But he…”

“Is a grumpy bum-bum?” Elana supplies.

“A complete and utter gas cloud.”

“He thinks only with his little head.”

“The wheel is spinning but the hamster is lame.”

I laugh as the girls list expletives, their words getting more colorful as they try to avoid activating the child-locked translators. Somehow swearing has become more fun for all of us since you can’t actually use certain phrases. It even considers some normal ones, like ‘oranges,’ as highly volatile. It really makes me wonder what that means in some other language. Probably a ‘yo momma’ insult. Note to self: be careful at the fruit stand.

“I’m positive he just wants you to be happy,” Charlotte tells me. “You’ve met these guys. They hate to see females working, always wanting to take care of them. Even the freaking guests are trying to treat us like we’re the ones on holidays. I’m sure Nelan just wants to be the one to pamper you, not have you slaving away in a kitchen. He probably fantasizes about feeding you grapes while fanning you with a giant leaf.”

I snort at the visual, but reflect on their words. Once I started sharing stories of cooking with my abuela and how much I loved cooking, his grumpy attitude changed. He’d become… more accepting of me being nearby. Have the last few weeks just been some big misunderstanding?

“And let’s be real,” Zoe adds with a tentative smile, “if anyone’s going to be doing the controlling in that relationship, it’s probably you. I’ve seen you boss him around in the kitchen. You’re like a tiny, adorable dictator. With better hair.”

Despite myself, I let out a watery laugh. “I do kind of enjoy that,” I admit. “It’s nice to be the one calling the shots for once. Even if those shots are just about how finely to dice the space carrots.”

My mind flashes to last night, to all the memories I made with Nelan. There’s no way I’m going to forget that experience any time soon. I’d definitely been the bossy one. I’d taken a risk, telling him exactly what I wanted… and it had worked. No more lying around waiting for the guy to get what he wanted, just to be left wanting. This time I made sure both of us were pleased with our night alone.

“Look,” Elana says, squeezing my hand. “We’re not saying you have to jump into a relationship with Nelan. But maybe... maybe it’s okay to let yourself be open to the possibility. To take a risk. Think of it as a recipe – you’ve got all the ingredients. Now it’s just about finding the right balance.”

I bite my lip, considering her words. The thought of opening myself up, of being vulnerable again, terrifies me. But then I think about Nelan – his quiet strength, his dedication to his craft, the way he makes me feel both challenged and supported.

“And if he does do anything to upset you… We can sic Elana here on him,” Charlotte adds to the conversation, snickering.

Elana beams, as if the idea of violence is something she looks forward to. Or perhaps she’s just proud to be our group’s chosen protector - a gun-slinging warrior in her own right.

“Actually… given how bloodthirsty she looks right no w, maybe we should keep her on a leash,” I tell Charlotte with a giggle.

“I’ve got one if you want,” Elana says with a mischievous smile.

“Oh gods!” I throw my arms up into the air. “No one wants to hear about you wearing a leash and collar.”

“Who says I’m the one to wear it?!”

Charlotte throws back her head, cackling like some deranged witch. Our laughter soon joins hers until we are all bending over, clutching at our aching stomachs and gasping for breath. The tension from the morning finally breaks.

“Thank you,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know what I’d do without you guys. Probably cry into my not-coffee and accidentally poison half the guests.”

“Now that we’ve covered interplanetary politics and matters of the heart... are you going to tell us about this mind-blowing night with Nelan, or do we have to use our imaginations?” Zoe asks.

“Oh, they finally banged?” Jen asks, opening her eyes. She slips into a stool, looking at me like she half expects me to sprout a long nose or horns or something. “How was it? Best night of your life, right? Did the earth move? Or I guess in space, did the stars realign?”

I feel my face heat up again, but this time, it’s accompanied by a flutter of excitement in my stomach.

“Well,” I begin, a small smile playing at my lips, “let’s just say those cybernetic fingers of his are good for more than just chopping...” I pause for dramatic effect. “They make a mean back massage too. What did you think I was going to say? You are so dirty-minded!”

I feel something shift inside me. The wall I’ve built around my heart doesn’t come crashing down – years of pain and fear can’t be erased in a single night, after all. But maybe, just maybe, a few bricks have started to loosen.

Control isn’t about never letting anyone in. It’s about choosing who to trust, who to let see the real you. And maybe, just maybe, it’s time for me to start making those choices again.

Whatever this strange galaxy throws at me, I’ll face it head-on, be it facing down intergalactic political intrigue or opening my heart to the possibility of love.

Because that’s who I am. Laura Rodriguez – survivor, friend, kick-ass chef, and maybe, just maybe, a woman learning to love again.

And hey, if all else fails, I can always threaten to poison their food. That’s the real superpower of a chef in any galaxy.