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

Chapter 12

Chapter

Twelve

LAURA

“ S o you might not have heard, but the entire hotel suffered a power failure. It may or may not have something to do with me attempting to blast the General’s ship from the sky,” I tell the detective, trying to sound casual about my accidental act of interstellar warfare.

“Laura…” Nelan warns, his body going stiff beneath my fingers. I know exactly what he’s thinking; that I’m about to give myself up to save him.

As if! I’m not that stupid.

“It’s fine!” I wave him off. “The General forgave me. Training practice for his troops! Besides, I cooked him lots of tasty meals as an apology. Nothing says ‘sorry I nearly vaporized you’ like a good casserole.”

The detective’s head is bouncing between us, looking all the more bewildered. Given how crazy aliens are, this can’t be the most absurd story he’s ever heard, surely. Then again, maybe I’m setting a new benchmark for extraterrestrial shenanigans .

I hold out a small device to the detective. It’s like a USB stick... only you don’t need to plug it into anything. A wireless hard drive, I guess. All I know is that Zoe promised me that it would work. That the detective would know how to use it.

“This... thing... contains the security video recordings of the hotel,” I explain, trying to sound more tech-savvy than I feel. “What you’ll find is that moments before the General was poisoned, Major Zoreth here entered the kitchen.”

“That means nothing. I do not hide that I was in the room,” Zoreth snarls. “Nor does it prove that I poisoned my own commander!”

The detective has raised his arm. I watch in absolute fascination as a hologram projects in the air before him, depicting the scene that I am recounting. You know… it is kind of cool. Why haven’t I seen someone do this before? Imagine just stepping away for a quick smoke break (only I don’t smoke), to catch up on your favorite TV show. Assuming aliens have TV shows, that is.

In the holographic projection, Zoreth can be seen walking into the kitchen, talking to us… and leaning over the pot while Nelan and I are absorbed in conversation.

“Why would I poison my own commander?” Zoreth cries. Only this time, his voice holds a note of fear and desperation.

“Because you see me as defective,” the General states, understanding dawning on his face. My earlier conversation with him finally becoming clear.

“I’ve suspected for some time that not all would be happy with my decision to defect to Prince Rist’s command, but I never suspected one of my own trusted soldiers to go so far,” the General hangs his head, looking pained.

“You are a traitor!” Major Zoreth glares at the General. “ How could I not act? Your loyalty should be to the rightful king. Instead, you throw your lot in with some rejects!?”

“You personally swore allegiance to always obey and to always fight for our people. Didn’t you, Zoreth?” The General grinds out through gritted teeth. He pushes himself to standing, roughly pulling off the wires and needles connecting him to the machine. Alerts beep, but he ignores them, apparently immune to both poison and common sense.

“You see these males as rejects? As traitors?” The General cries, waving his hand at Rist and Nelan.

Rist groans and squeezes the bridge of his nose. “You are saying that far too much...”

“These males care!” The General roars, ignoring the distraction. His voice gains strength with each word. “While our ‘king’ lives a lavish life, our people are starving. He has allowed the corrupt to rise in rank, as long as they enable his greed. He doesn’t care that they hurt the innocent or that our once-proud civilization crumbles around us!”

The General’s eyes blaze with fury and conviction. “I’ve seen children begging in the streets of our capital, Zoreth. I’ve watched as hard-working citizens lose everything to the king’s excessive taxation. Our hospitals lack basic supplies while the royal palace gleams with imported luxuries.”

He takes a step forward, his voice dropping to a fierce whisper. “And worst of all, I’ve witnessed good soldiers – our brothers-in-arms – sent on suicide missions simply because they dared to question the king’s decisions. Is that the Latium you swore to protect?”

The General shakes his head, pausing for breath. His shoulders slump. “Prince Rist and his followers aren’t rejects or traitors. They’re the only ones brave enough to stand against this tide of corruption and cruelty. They fight not for personal gain, but for the very soul of our people.”

He gestures around the room, “Look at what they’ve built here. A refuge. A place where beings from across the galaxy can find safety and purpose. Tell me, Zoreth, when was the last time our king created something that didn’t serve only himself?”

The General’s eyes lock onto Zoreth’s, challenging and pleading at the same time. “I defected because I could no longer stand by and watch our people suffer. If that makes me defective in your eyes, so be it. You can think whatever you want. But I ask you, Major Zoreth: who is truly betraying our people? Those who fight to save them, or those who blindly follow a tyrant to ruin? Who truly is the defective one here?”

Silence descends. The General looks exhausted, like he just doesn’t have the strength to go on anymore. After all he’s been through, he’s probably thinking that too. I felt that way once too: lost, with no hope, and all alone.

“You’re not alone, General,” I tell him, moving forward and putting my hand on his arm. “Whatever we can do to help, we will do.”

“You disgust me. A vow is always a vow. It cannot be broken!” Zoreth snarls.

Zoreth turns to face me, his red face filled with fury. “And you, you ruined everything!”

I gasp as the male lunges forward. It’s like the world moves in slow motion. I know he’s moving fast, but all I can see is the blade in his hand as he moves towards us. Towards me.

I’m not sure I even have time to raise my hands to defend myself. I can hear Nelan cry out, his face filled with absolute terror. I want to tell him it’s going to be okay. I want to tell him we will laugh about this one day, probably over hot drinks and delicious food. I want everything to be safe and cozy, like my kitchen. But sometimes, life is dangerous. Sometimes life beats us down. In those moments of panic and fear and pain, we feel so alone.

But if we look hard enough, there’s always someone willing to help. You just have to keep fighting, even if it’s in your own way, even if it means just putting one foot forward each day until you find them. Or in my case, hoping someone else has faster reflexes than I do.

My breath swooshes from my lungs as I slam against the floor, hard. I’d cry out, but I can barely gulp air. I shove my hands beneath me, crawling backwards, trying to understand what’s going on. My gaze lands on the General and Rist as they fight to restrain Zoreth. The male struggles, spit flying as he fights their grasp.

“Laura! Are you hurt?” Nelan grabs hold of me. He looks me up and down, his eyes scanning frantically for injury.

“No, I’m fine,” I tell him, my eyes glued to the struggling males. The detective approaches them, and with practiced ease he’s shoving metal bracelets on Zoreth’s wrists. Zoreth’s struggles weaken, then slow, and he finally slumps forward. They let him fall, uncaring that his body thumps heavily to the ground.

“That should keep him knocked out for a while,” the detective states. He looks at me. “Is the female harmed?”

“She’s fine,” Nelan replies.

I cling to him, body shaking. I’ve been attacked before… but this… did I nearly just die? Stabbed to death? That would have been really unpleasant.

Nelan’s arms wrap around me, holding me close. He grips me like he nearly lost me… which I guess he nearly di d. For the first time, I notice that he’s holding me. The handcuffs he was wearing are gone, now on the real criminal. From restrained to restrainer in one easy step.

I slump into Nelan’s arms, grateful.

“Thank you, Sir, for saving my mate,” Nelan says.

“I…” I manage to escape Nelan’s grasp enough to look at the others. Blood dribbles down the General’s chest, soaking his shirt, but he seems rather unfazed by it. Crazy male. I’d be freaking out if that was me. Probably screaming. Maybe fainting. Definitely not standing there like I’d just spilled ketchup on my shirt.

I’m really not a fighter. Not at all.

Oh, right. “Thank you?” I manage, feeling like I’m seriously underperforming in the gratitude department.

“You are welcome, female,” he tells me. Then he turns his gaze to Nelan and bows. Bows! “I’ve already taken enough from you, Nelan. Please accept my deepest apology. I am indebted to you. I swear to always protect you and what is yours. Just as I should have done in the past.”

I glance up at my mate. Tension runs through his body, his grip tight on me. I can feel his claws prickle my skin, not quite breaking, but really lending strength to how much this is affecting him.

Nelan glances down at me.

“If my mate has taught me anything,” he tells the General, “we must find a way to be at peace with our pasts, so that we can focus on our futures and what is truly important to us. Even if it takes time to heal.”

I reach out, my hand shaking, and touch his cheek. Nelan softly smiles at me.

“I love you too, Laura,” he tells me. “I should have asked you properly before. I cannot wait any longer. Will you be my mate? ”

I laugh. How could I possibly top off this insane day? Near-death experiences and marriage proposals. All that’s missing is a feast, and that’s one thing that I know I can handle.

“Yes, Nelan, I’ll be your mate.”