Page 8 of Alien Naga's Prize
My stomach growls. I didn’t get breakfast or my usual cup of tea this morning. I take my seat as I hear the door being closed up.
There’s a row of windows next to me, and I watch with growing anticipation as the port is cleared and the ship begins to move. We reach the forcefield and pass through, out into open space.
I feel like cheering. At least until I see the comm on my wrist and I’m brought back with a bump.
“The trip to the hub will take a nova day, Miss.” The bot is back. “For your comfort and safety, I’m authorized to give you this.”
“What?” I ask as yet again, without warning, I’m jabbed in the arm. My vision dims, and my ability to speak disappears as the drug takes effect.
The last thing I hear is my own voice attempting to get out a final insult.
“You utter bast-t-”
“Ah! Awake! Rise and shine!” A shape looms over me as I jerk upright in yet another squashy chair.
I’ve been drooling on my own shoulder, and I feel like complete crap. The shape resolves into a figure—blue skin, a shock of pink hair, and…tentacles.
“I’m Piet, your Starlight Brides liaison officer,” he says, far too brightly. “You’ll feel better in a few nova-minutes. I’m sorry we had to knock you out. The more primitive species don’t cope well with wormhole travel.”
“Starlight what?” I’m definitely sitting straighter.
“Starlight Brides,” he repeats. “Now if you’ll complete this form and make your mark at the bottom.”
He hands me a vid-tablet. I stare at it. The heading is “Starlight Brides.”
“There’s some mistake. I won the lottery. I’m not a bride or anything like that.” I stare up at him.
I’d like to run, but my legs are not playing this game. They are resolutely still asleep.
“The lottery is to be matched with a suitable mate, so you can start your new life,” Piet says with more excessive brightness. “There are so many males who need brides. It’s the reason the lottery was started.”
I shake my head. “No, this isn’t what I won at all.”
“Oh.” The smile fades a little from Piet’s face. “You don’t want a new life then?”
“I don’t want to marry someone I don’t know to get to it,” I respond.
My eye is caught by the wrist comm glinting under the cuff of my jacket. Intelligence said they’d get me out if I needed to get out. Perhaps I should play along. After all, I’ve already uncovered something about the lottery which is of interest…it isn’t a lottery.
“But I’m here for adventure,” I say, matching Piet’s earlier brightness. “And if it involves being”—I check the form I’ve been given—“a bride or…a breeder?” I stare up at him as I grasp the meaning of the two words.
“You only have to choose one,” he says with an indulgent smile. “Or both if you wish.”
I stare at the options.
“Oh well, I guess I’m up for it. In for a penny, in for a pound,” I say out loud. “That’s my motto.”
And I tick both boxes.
AZUL
There’s a strange scent in the air of the Starlight Brides hub. I lift my head to better draw it over the olfactory organ at the top of my mouth.
“Azul of Gylcon, so pleased to have you here.”
My scenting is rudely interrupted by a Kraken who gives me a deep bow.
Starlight Brides insisted I attend their large and luxurious space station, currently orbiting an ice moon which makes my reptilian blood chill simply looking at it.