《A Psychopath in Space》


 00 - INTRO

    2039. Solar System, space, somewhere around Jupiter.


    My name is Jonathan Trent. I¡¯m 29 years old, 193 centimeters tall (6''4), and 95 kilograms of mostly muscle (210 lbs). I¡¯m also, objectively speaking, an attractive man¡ªnot that I had much say in my face, but everything else? That was all me. My body is a product of discipline, hard work, and precision. A perfect diet, years of daily training, mixed martial arts twice a week, tennis on weekends. When I walk by, people turn their heads to stare. Of course they do. I would too.


    But this was never about vanity, I¡¯m not that sad of a person. No, this was about strategy. Studies show that height, attractiveness, and an imposing presence subconsciously influence how people perceive you, to the point there is a verified correlation between looks, status and income. If you don¡¯t believe me, look it up. Or just take my word for it. After all, why wouldn¡¯t you? I¡¯m about to be the first man to orbit Saturn. Surely, that title carries some degree of credibility.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Why am I here? No idea. NASA wants it done, and I am the one they chose to make history. Jonathan Trent, the first man to orbit Saturn. Not bad. The pay? Excellent. Enough to make this my last job. When I get back, I¡¯ll be set for life. Then? Politics. Should be easy for me, I¡¯m already a hero back on Earth. Eight years should be enough to reach my financial goals. And after that, who knows? Maybe I¡¯ll like it. Maybe I¡¯ll run the whole damn country. I do have a few ideas about that.


    But that¡¯s getting ahead of myself.


    I glance at the countdown on my ship¡¯s display. Three months to Saturn. Two years in orbit. Then nine months to return home. Three years total. I¡¯ll be 32 when I return. Plenty of time.


    I tap a few commands into the console, watching as my cryosleep pod fills with cold liquid.


    See you in three months, Jonathan.


    Lights out.

 CHAPTER 1 - CELL

    I wake up, disoriented. This is not my spaceship. A well lit room, and a grey wall in front of me. I¡¯m on a vessel of some kind.


    The good news is that I¡¯m alive, but what now? Has the mission... failed? Will I be considered a failure?! No, I¡¯ll blame the engineering team. I did nothing wrong. The ship must¡¯ve been defective. I¡¯m still getting paid of course, but how will the public react to my failure?


    Not that they should care all that much. Who even cares about Saturn, really? There¡¯s nothing out there worth investigating. We all know that, deep down. The mission was about my self-sacrifice, putting myself in danger for humanity¡ªor something like that. Maybe I¡¯ll cry. Yes, I¡¯ll say, ¡°I¡¯m so sorry I disappointed everyone¡­¡± and shed a few tears.


    Too much? What if I come off like a crybaby? Should I-


    Before I can finish my thoughts, I feel a light tap on my shoulder. I freeze, startled. I look to my left. My heart skips a beat. I recoil instinctively, trying to distance myself from the strange creature that touched me. It has tentacles on its face¡ªfour eyes, maybe five? I can¡¯t understand if that one in the center is an eye or something else. And dark green, slimy skin. Horrible.


    The creature doesn¡¯t move. It just stands there, tentacle still raised, waiting.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to scare you,¡± it speaks.


    I regain my composure in an instant, sitting up straighter. "You didn¡¯t scare me," I say, my voice calm. It did.


    The creature retracts its tentacle and lowers its head slightly. The tentacles on its face contract too, like it¡¯s reacting to what I said. Creepy.


    "I am Xo-Ran-Ti," it replies, voice strangely neutral. "I was captured¡­ a while ago. I lost count of the days. I was mining on..."


    Mining eh? Not that interesting. But what is interesting is the way its disgusting face moves: it is speaking, but the words don¡¯t quite match its facial movements. Weird alien anatomy? Maybe. Or the work of some kind of translator. The ship''s system? Or¡ªwait, could I have already been experimented on? A translator implant, perhaps? I tap my neck, and sure enough, I feel a small scar just below my right ear. Looking down, I notice I¡¯m no longer in my suit. Instead, I¡¯m wearing some kind of plain white uniform. No shoes, either. The squid-like creature is dressed the same way.


    Xo-Ran-Ti is still speaking. ¡°... and this is how I ended up here. What about you?¡±


    Huh, I wasn¡¯t listening.


    ¡°I don¡¯t wanna talk about it,¡± I say, turning away to face the wall. Xo-Ran-Ti does the same.


    I hate this creature. It smells weird and talks too much. But wait... It talks. It¡¯s intelligent. And I¡¯m.. on an alien ship. How could it take me so long to realize the importance of the situation I''m in?!


    I¡¯ve met intelligent life. Me. Jonathan Trent, the first human to make contact with another species. This changes everything. Forget a few million dollars. Forget eight years in politics. This is my ticket to the top.


    I can already picture it: shaking hands with the President, flashing cameras, questions flying from every direction. I¡¯ll need to remind myself to smile. A documentary?! I¡¯m sure Netflix executives will be bombarding my phone with calls. "First Contact with Jonathan Trent." No, wait, my name first.


    ¡°Jonathan Trent: The Man Who Reached for the Sta-¡±


    My thoughts are interrupted by a sudden noise. The door to the room slides open. Two aliens walk in¡ªmilitary, by the looks of their black uniforms, although they are quite simple in design. Red lizard people or something. Then it hits me. Serendipity.


    They¡¯re not from the same species as the Squid guy. That means I haven¡¯t just encountered intelligent life¡ªI¡¯ve stumbled into an entire Galactic community.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°They¡¯re here¡­¡± Xo-thing whispers, interrupting my train of thought.


    No shit, I can see them too. This guy is really starting to get on my nerves.


    "On your feet," a voice crackles through the intercom.


    I obey without hesitation. Best to make a good impression¡ªshow them I can follow orders. My slimy cellmate, however, is less disciplined. It squirms in place, a strange, wriggling motion. Its species'' version of shaking, perhaps. It is afraid.


    I smile. I see what happened here. Let me guess: he was mining illegally, probably on the rings of Saturn, and got caught. Me? I was probably mistaken for his accomplice. This is a misunderstanding, plain and simple. I¡¯ll explain it, and I¡¯ll be out of here in no time.


    One of the guards grabs me by the arm, pulling me roughly. That¡¯s it. I¡¯ll demand an apology once everything¡¯s cleared up. These idiots are ruining what should be a historic moment. First contact, and they fuck  it up like this?! I¡¯ll make sure they¡¯ll live to regret this. Maybe even demand their firing. Or an execution perhaps¡ªdo they do that in their culture? I hope they do.


    Xo¡¯s panic is almost palpable. The creature¡¯s small¡ªless than 150 cm tall (4''11)¡ªand lighter than I would¡¯ve thought. He must be, because one of the guards is carrying him with a single arm, like he¡¯s nothing more than a child.


    As for me? I can tell my guard¡¯s trying to play rough, but he¡¯s no match for me. He must be.. 180 cm tall (5''11), more or less, and judging by their body composition, he¡¯s no more than 65 kilos (145 lbs). Their bodies are... slender, and the red scales? Not bad looking, I suppose. But those lizard-like faces? Hard pass.


    I¡¯ve met two alien species, and both are hideous. Guess I¡¯m not going to be the first human to have intercourse with an alien. Oh! But wouldn¡¯t that make the movie about me much more interesting? Perhaps present Jonathan will have to take one for the team.. Future Jonathan will surely be thankful!


    We arrive in a larger room. Xo-thing has stopped struggling, likely realizing there¡¯s no point in resisting anymore. A lizard alien sits at a desk, reading from a tablet of sorts. He¡¯s wearing something resembling a lab coat, instead of a uniform like the other lizards. When it turns its head toward us, I swear its tongue licks its own eye for a split second. Classy, I think. That has to be the alien equivalent of picking one¡¯s nose in public. Unprofessional. Nasty.


    "Those are ready. Put them with the others," it says, voice flat and unemotional.


    Others? This is not happening, no. I have shared a cell with that thing already, and I will not tolerate this one minute longer.


    I speak up, my voice calm but firm. ¡°There must be a misunderstanding. I am not a criminal. In fact, I¡¯m from a species that is new to spacefaring. We have not yet encou¡ª¡±


    Before I can finish my sentence, a punch hits me square in the face. It stings. Not much, but it does hurt a bit. My upper body jerks slightly, but my feet remain firmly planted. I feel my anger starting to boil.


    ¡°Silence, slave! Get in the cell.¡± One of the guards growls, the one who hit me, obviously.


    I turn my head and lock eyes with the lizard for a moment, his hand still raised in the air. He¡¯s surprised. I can tell. I bet he thought I¡¯d be a lot weaker. Maybe he thought I¡¯d crumple under the punch. His hand hurts too, I imagine. Is that a hint of fear I see in his eyes? It eases my anger a little, but only a little.


    I step into the cell in silence, trying to keep my cool. Inside, I see more aliens. A strange assortment, some more bizarre than others. I¡¯ll have to memorize their features for when I get back to Earth. I¡¯m not letting this slip away. But, before that, It would seem we have more pressing matters.


    I sit on the floor, back pressed against the wall, trying to settle my thoughts. But I can¡¯t stop thinking about that red lizard who hit me. I want to hurt it. I tap my foot in frustration, trying to ignore the low buzz of the cell.


    The Squid alien approaches me again. It almost touches my shoulder with one of its disgusting tentacles, but stops just before it makes contact. I swear I would¡¯ve grabbed its neck and ripped it apart. I wonder if it would shoot up ink in self-defense.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± It asks, and I can feel the translator trying to convey genuine worry.


    I start tapping my foot faster. Everyone else is silent in the cell. They didn¡¯t see what happened. Good. Saves me the embarrassment.


    Then a voice, a feminine tone, breaks the quiet. ¡°What happened to him?¡±


    ¡°One of the sla¡ª¡± Xo-Ran starts to speak, but I cut it off sharply.


    ¡°Nothing happened,¡± I snap. ¡°Now shut up for a moment.¡±


    I lean back against the wall. Don¡¯t remind me, little squid. He called me a slave. He hit me. No respectable law enforcement would lay a hand on a prisoner like that, let alone one of my status.


    The obvious conclusion hits me like a slap in the face. Slavers. I was captured by slavers. A slave. Me.


    I almost burst out laughing. My chest feels hot, my heart rate rising. The absurdity of it all¡ªme, Jonathan Trent, a slave. What a joke.


    I need to get out of here. I will. And when I do, I¡¯ll make sure they regret this. Every single one of them.

 CHAPTER 2 - PRISON BREAK

    I take a deep breath. Succumbing to anger will bring you nothing, Jonathan.


    A diplomatic solution is clearly off the table¡ªat least with the lizards. That much is obvious. I shift my gaze to the aliens around me. Other than the Squid, I count about a dozen creatures. Roughly half are humanoid, while the rest are... less appealing. I¡¯d rather not engage with them if I can help it.


    Some, at least, resemble Earth creatures, which is mildly comforting. One has a canine-like structure, another looks like some kind of blue-furred mammalian. Then there are those two¡ªslender, grey-skinned, large black eyes¡ªalmost like the classic greys from movies, just taller.


    Raising my head, I speak, voice as calm and measured as ever. I try to add a friendly spin to it, too. ¡°I need information.¡±


    A familiar feminine voice responds from across the cell. I see her now¡ªa humanoid feline-like creature.


    "We''re on a slaver ship. We¡¯ll be taken to one of the Verni¡¯s planets and.. sold there.¡±


    Right. That much I already figured out. Not exactly useful. I breathe in and out, keeping my frustration in check.


    "Can anyone here pilot this ship?" I whisper.


    A few aliens stir, but no one answers.


    ¡°Why? Planning an escape?¡± The feline girl again. Seems she¡¯s the leader personality in here*.* Her voice is too loud, though. I hope the cell isn¡¯t monitored, but at this point, I have to take that risk.


    "Maybe," I reply. "I¡¯m confident I can take down those two guards. But I need to know how many are on board, and if someone can fly this thing, if it comes to it."


    ¡°Be quiet or you¡¯ll get us all killed!¡± someone blurts out.


    Tempting to respond, but the situation demands calm. I settle for a simple, reassuring: ¡°It will be alright.¡±


    My black-furred feline accomplice seems to appreciate that answer¡ªher ears perk up slightly.


    "I can do it. These small vessels can be piloted by a single individual, though they¡¯re usually dual-piloted. I¡¯ve personally seen three armed slavers, plus the one in a lab coat who checked our health levels."


    Five or six at minimum.


    ¡°¡­These ships typically only have space for five people to sleep comfortably, so I doubt there are many more onboard," she adds.


    She could be useful after all*.*


    Our hands aren¡¯t bound. No one has stormed in to execute us for openly discussing escape. These slavers are amateurs.


    I smile. Jonathan Trent¡ªfirst human to make contact with intelligent alien life, now on the verge of a daring escape from slavers. My legend keeps growing. Forget simple fame. Once I return to Earth, I will go down in history books.


    As I relish my destined greatness, the Squid speaks, ruining my moment.


    ¡°But¡­ are you sure you can take them on?¡± he asks, voice thick with fear. ¡°The Verni are strong...¡±


    Ugly, and a coward? I hope this thing doesn¡¯t make it.


    Before I can answer, Feline Girl does it for me. ¡°Look at him. Big, built like a rock. I¡¯ve never seen his species, but he looks like he hits hard.¡±


    That strokes my ego a little.


    ¡°I do,¡± I say, letting a hint of smugness slip into my voice.


    I don¡¯t mind this one. Maybe I am a cat person after all.


    ¡°They might not be listening, but I bet they¡¯re watching. They have to be monitoring us somehow, it wouldn¡¯t make sense otherwise. Pretend you¡¯re sick. I¡¯ll do the rest.¡±


    My newly acquired minion doesn¡¯t waste time. She clutches at her chest, staggers a little, then drops to the floor, seemingly unconscious.


    What. Was. That.


    There¡¯s no way they¡¯re falling for this. That was atrocious. The overacting of a 14-year-old in a school play. I am surrounded by useless id¡ª


    The doors slide open.


    I blink. They bought it.


    Surprise mixes with disappointment. I expected intergalactic slavers to be smarter than this. At the very least, you¡¯d think they wouldn¡¯t just walk into a cell full of unrestrained prisoners.


    And yet¡­ here we are.


    My heartbeat spikes. My body tenses. Adrenaline floods my veins. Life or death.


    A quick glance to my left: one guard near the door, armed but not aiming. The other moves past me, heading toward the girl. He¡¯s too focused on her.


    That¡¯s my moment. I spring forward.


    Right arm around its scaly neck. Left arm slides under its shoulder and locks my grip. His head is mine. I press. Hard.


    It struggles. Weakly. My grip is iron.


    The second guard panics. I turn, shifting my weight, positioning my meat-shield between us.


    "What the fu¡ª Let him go!" he shouts, pointing his weapon towards me. He¡¯s scared. Inexperienced. My gamble paid off. He should¡¯ve killed us both already, but he cares about his colleague¡¯s life.


    "Easy now," I say, voice calm, smooth. I need to show him who¡¯s in control. "Don¡¯t do anything stupid."


    That¡¯s right, I hold the cards. My shield is gasping for air. I let it breathe, just a little. Don¡¯t die on me yet, I have use for you still.


    The feline girl moves. She¡¯s quick. She grabs the weapon from my lizard-shield¡¯s holster. Unexpected, but I¡¯m not complaining. She ducks behind me and my cover, and raises the gun towards the slaver.


    I wait. One second. Two seconds. Three.


    She¡¯s not shooting.


    Why is she not shooting?!This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    I hear heavy footsteps. Someone¡¯s running.


    The third slaver.


    ¡°Just fucking shoot him already!¡± I bark.


    The cat hesitates. The slaver doesn¡¯t. Gunfire erupts.


    I duck behind my shield. It hits him. Hits one of the other captives as well, maybe more. Screams. Panic.


    Finally, the cat fires back. Sloppy. Miss. Miss. Lucky shot¡ª headshot. The guard drops.


    No time to waste now.


    I shove my wounded shield forward, rip the weapon from her hands and point it at the wounded Verni on the floor. It turns around, raising one hand towards me, trying to shield himself somehow. I think it tries to speak, but I don''t let it. I put him out of his misery with a shot to the head.


    But this isn''t over just yet.


    I lift my weapon and hold steady, listening to the approaching lizard¡¯s clumsy, heavy footsteps pounding against the metal floor. It''s coming.


    My reaction time? Perfect as always.


    I pop its head as soon as it turns the corner, before it can even raise its weapon. The body jerks violently, spasming, a puppet with its strings cut. Yuck.


    I must say, I am quite impressed with myself. I must add sharpshooting to the list of things I excel at.


    I step over the lifeless bodies of the lizards and move out of the cell, pressing my back against the wall beside the door. A quick glance down the hallway¡ªclear. I turn back to the cell. The others are still huddled inside, some tending to the wounded captive. Seriously? We¡¯re not done yet, you idiots.


    ¡°You. The girl who helped earlier. Get out here and grab that weapon. Now.¡± My voice is firm, but I rein in the aggression. No need to scare off my only useful ally.


    She snaps out of her daze and does as she¡¯s told, though I can tell the sight of the corpses unsettles her. Can¡¯t blame her¡ªit¡¯s my first time seeing dead bodies up close too, and it is not a pleasant sight.


    The scientist lizard wasn¡¯t armed last time I saw it, but the pilot, or pilots, might be. That means at least two more threats remain.


    ¡°I¡¯m the best shot here, and you¡¯re the smallest target. You go first, I¡¯ll cover you,¡± I say. It¡¯s the truth, and it makes tactical sense. But my main priority here is not being shot, if I have to be completely honest.


    She hesitates, fear clear on her face, but after a moment, she nods and moves ahead. Huh, I am slightly impressed, I didn¡¯t think she¡¯d have it in her.


    She reaches a door, and I position myself on the opposite side. Locked. Could I force it open? I guess I have to find out.


    ¡°I¡¯ll try to break it open. Stay sharp,¡± I warn. She still looks doubtful, but nods again.


    I plant my feet firmly and grip the small handle on the sliding door with both hands. It¡¯s likely there for emergencies¡ªif the power fails, it can still be forced open manually. Smart design, but it will be their ruin.


    I pull with all my strength, every muscle tensing, every fiber of my perfectly honed body working in unison. The metal groans in protest.


    A quick glance at my feline companion¡ªher ears perked, eyes wide. Yeah, she¡¯s impressed. You like what you see, huh? I know you do.


    With a final yank, the door wrenches free, sliding open almost all the way.


    A voice shrieks from inside. ¡°What the fuck?! M-Monster!¡±


    An understandable reaction, I¡¯d be scared too.


    I step inside slowly, taking in the room. An office, his office I imagine. The scientist lizard is backed into the far corner, trembling. No weapon in sight.


    ¡°Well, well, well¡­¡± I mutter, a smirk creeping onto my face.


    The cat-girl follows behind, scanning the room with nervous energy. I don¡¯t mind her caution.


    I keep my voice steady, lowering my weapon slightly to appear less threatening. ¡°Now, let¡¯s stay calm. No one has to die here.¡± Of course, that¡¯s a lie. He¡¯s not making it out of this alive.


    ¡°Stay away, freak!¡± he screeches, pressing himself further against the wall. He¡¯s absolutely terrified. I can¡¯t say I dislike this feeling.


    Maybe I should drag this out, take slow, deliberate steps, let him squirm a little more. Flash a grin, maybe lick my lips? No¡ªtoo much. Control yourself Jonathan, this is not the time for fun.


    I close the distance, his panicked attempts to retreat utterly useless. Nowhere to run.


    ¡°I¡¯m not gonna hurt you,¡± I lie again. ¡°I just need to know how many of you are on this ship.¡±


    ¡°Five! Five! There¡¯s five of us!¡± The answer comes instantly, no hesitation. He¡¯s too scared to lie, and that number lines up with what we expected.


    ¡°And how many weapons? Are the others armed?¡±


    This time, he hesitates. I must snuff out the flames of defiance from his head at once.


    I press the barrel of my gun to his head. ¡°No lying.¡±


    ¡°Three! Only three of us have guns! B-But Derek might have a knife or something!¡±


    Derek¡­? What kind of alien lizard is named Derek? But that¡¯s good news. Sounds like we¡¯ve already taken out the biggest threats.


    ¡°And where is Derek now?¡±


    ¡°In the cockpit! He probably heard the shots and locked himself inside... Just don¡¯t kill me! I¡¯ll do anything!¡±


    Pathetic. But I need him calm¡ªif Derek panics and does something drastic, like destroying the controls, this escape could get a lot more complicated. The other slaver hesistated to shoot his fellow lizard. Maybe Derek has a heart, too.


    ¡°Alright, me and you are gonna take a little walk. We¡¯re going to Derek, alright?¡±


    He nods frantically.


    I step aside and let him move ahead, keeping my weapon trained on his back. ¡°No funny business, or I¡¯ll be forced to hurt you. And I don¡¯t want to.¡±


    He nods again, picking up the pace.


    Through all of this, the feline alien has been watching me in silence. I catch her gaze¡ªwide-eyed, unreadable. Awe? Disgust? Hard to tell. Admittedly, if someone walked in right now with no context, I¡¯d probably look like the bad guy here. But she hasn¡¯t stopped me, hasn¡¯t objected. She¡¯s following along without a word. That¡¯s good enough for me.


    We reach another door. Locked, of course.


    I gesture to the scientist. ¡°Knock.¡±


    He obeys, rapping his knuckles against the metal. ¡°Derek... Derek, it¡¯s me! Open up, man, please!¡±


    He doesn¡¯t even try to mask the fear in his voice.


    From the other side, a voice responds. ¡°Roy? Is that you?! What happened?!¡±


    I blink. Roy? What the.. Who is naming these aliens?!


    ¡°T-the slaves they¡­ Just open the door, man! They¡¯ll kill me, please!¡± Roy wails, desperation thick in his voice.


    ¡°I can¡¯t¡ªI-I¡­ Stay away! I¡¯ll destroy the controls! I swear I will! You¡¯re going down with me!¡±


    Exactly what I feared. His voice is shaking, but I believe him. He¡¯s scared, but not bluffing.


    I take a breath, keeping my tone steady, reassuring.


    ¡°Listen, Derek, right? I don¡¯t want to hurt you. I get it, alright? You were just doing your job. It happens. I¡¯m not angry with you. I just need you to take us to the closest inhabited planet and drop us off.¡±


    My acting is flawless¡ªcalm, sincere, not a hint of deception.


    Silence. Then, his shaky response.


    ¡°Y-You¡¯re lying! You want revenge! You¡¯ll kill me! Fuck it, I-I¡¯ll kill us all!¡± He sounds less sure than before.


    Roy sobs. ¡°Derek, just open the fucking door!¡±


    ¡°Wait! Listen! Listen!¡± I cut in sharply. ¡°Why would I even kill you? Think about it¡ªit makes no sense. I don¡¯t know how to fly this ship. You know I¡¯m not a spacefaring species, right? That¡¯s why Roy here had to install this thing in me to understand me, correct? You follow? If I kill you, I¡¯m dead too.¡±


    My voice stays measured, logical. ¡°All I want is a ride. You drop me off, I¡¯m gone. Hell, between us, I¡¯ll even let you keep the other slaves. I don¡¯t know them, and hey¡ªI get it, bills to pay, right? I don¡¯t judge. Just open the door, man. Let¡¯s talk this through.¡±


    I am a goddamn genius. The logic is airtight. He doesn¡¯t even realize it yet, but he¡¯s already lost. Whether or not he truly believes me, the alternative is guaranteed death.


    Silence. Then, finally¡ªthe door hisses open.


    Derek stands there, gripping a pathetic little knife in his scaly hands. A sad sight.


    I shove Roy forward, and he stumbles inside without hesitation, running straight to his friend.


    ¡°See? I¡¯m not gonna shoot you. Just relax, okay?¡± I say smoothly, lowering my weapon.


    The cat-girl does the same behind me. Not that it matters¡ªI could tear these two apart with my bare hands if I wanted to.


    But they don¡¯t need to know that.


    For the first time in a while, the feline alien speaks.


    ¡°I am Princess Tal-Vira of Xilthara, and I will see to it that you are brought to justice!¡± Her voice carries surprising confidence, though there¡¯s a flicker of doubt beneath it. I doubt anyone else picked up on it, though.


    A young princess, perhaps still unaccustomed to wielding authority. Or maybe the chaos of the past hour has shaken her. Either way, she¡¯s holding herself together well enough all things considered.


    ¡°..However, if you obey my command, I promise your lives will be spared from execution!¡±


    They will..?


    ¡°I order you to set a course for Xilthara immediately!¡± she demands. I don¡¯t mind her taking the lead for now. If she¡¯s truly royalty, that means she has power, and I could use someone with influence.


    Derek drops the knife and does as instructed.


    Tal-Vira settles into one of the piloting chairs, right next to Derek, keeping a close eye on him. Smart. Roy, on the other hand, is still shaking, sitting slumped against the wall like a lost child.


    I lean back, allowing myself a moment of indulgence. The lone explorer lost around Saturn, presumed dead, only to return at the head of an intergalactic fleet. A legend reborn. A hero, rescuing the alien princess, bringing humanity into the galactic community. The book deal alone¡ªhell, the movie rights¡ªpractically write themselves. But not George R.R. Martin. No, I¡¯d like the book finished in my lifetime. Maybe Brandon Sanders¡ª


    I¡¯m pulled from my thoughts by the sound of something wet and unsettling. I turn to see the squid alien, Xo-Ran-Ti, covered in dark green blood. Right. The other slaves. I forgot about those.

 CHAPTER 3 - DREAMS

    ¡°I-I¡­ You made it! We need help! There are two wounded back in the cell!¡± It is holding a weapon in his tentacles. Hm, so he was willing to fight. I¡¯m surprised.


    The more I look at this creature, the more unsettling he becomes. But credit where it¡¯s due¡ªhe had the guts to come here alone.


    I glance at Roy. ¡°You. The one in the lab coat. You¡¯re a doctor, right?¡±


    Roy flinches but nods weakly. ¡°Y-Yes, I have medical tra¡ª¡±


    ¡°Then get back there and help them.¡±


    He hesitates but eventually drags himself to his feet and hurries off, Xo-Ran following close behind.


    Now, the main stage is set.


    I step up behind Tal-Vira, resting an arm on the back of her chair.


    ¡°Sooo¡­ Tal-Vira, right? Can I call you Vira?¡± I ask, keeping my tone light. Alien or not, she¡¯s still a woman. I will have her dancing in the palm of my hand by the end of the day. Metaphorically speaking, since we¡¯re in space.


    She flinches slightly, glancing back at me with cautious distrust.


    ¡°S-Sure¡­¡± Not a good sign. Maybe she¡¯s wary of my earlier... enthusiasm. Not a big deal, I can fix this.


    ¡°I¡¯m Jonathan, Jonathan Trent... Phew, that was close back there, huh? I would¡¯ve been done for in that cell if not for you. Great acting, by the way!¡± A classic move¡ªgive her credit. I would¡¯ve been fine, obviously, but letting her think I owe her? That¡¯s creates a connection, an interlinking of fates, even.


    ¡°Y-Yeah¡­ I did what I had to¡­¡± She hesitates, her expression darkening. ¡°I killed him. I killed that Verni.¡±


    Derek stiffens in his seat. ¡°Y-You did?! Joshua is dead?! Oh man¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut the fuck up, Derek,¡± I cut in before turning back to her.


    ¡°Listen, you had to. It was them or us, you had no other choice.¡±


    She falls silent, thinking. Good. That means my words are sinking in. Now she¡¯ll probably thank me for my heroic acts. You know, now that I take a closer look, I don¡¯t mind the fur that much¡ª


    ¡°You¡­ you kind of executed one of them¡­¡± she mutters.


    Oh. Right.


    ¡°He¡ªLook, I didn¡¯t know how many of them there were. I had to be sure I.. I¡¯m not proud of it, but what¡¯s done is done. What, you think I enjoyed it?!¡± My delivery is flawless¡ªjust the right mix of self-disgust, regret, and a hint of offense. If all goes to plan¡­


    ¡°N-No! I didn¡¯t mean it like that¡­ I¡¯m sorry, it¡¯s just¡­ Great Skies Above. I¡¯ve never seen a dead body before, let alone¡­ because of me.¡±


    There it is. I win again. Though she¡¯s looking a little too shaken¡ªI need to change topic before she starts overthinking.


    I point at one of the screens. ¡°We¡¯re heading the right way, yeah?¡±


    She blinks, refocusing, and turns her head. ¡°Yes. We should arrive in two days.¡±


    Two days? I stare through the windows in front of us into the nothingness of space. We are in the middle of nowhere, and yet we¡¯ll arrive in two days? And no one seems remotely surprised by that. Which only confirms my theory¡ªhumanity is way behind technologically.


    I smile. The good news just keeps piling up. Not only will I be the hero who discovered alien life and saved an alien princess, but I¡¯ll also be the one who drags humanity out of the dark ages.


    I want a temple in Jerusalem. In gold. Move aside, Jesus of Nazareth¡ªthere¡¯s a new messiah in town!


    ------------------------------------------------------------


    I spend hours talking to Vira, carefully steering the conversation to extract as much information as possible while revealing little about humanity¡ªespecially our technological shortcomings. For a princess, she is surprisingly na?ve, offering up valuable insights to a complete stranger of an unknown species as if it were casual small talk.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    The galaxy, as it turns out, is teeming with life. Most civilizations didn¡¯t develop interstellar travel on their own but were instead guided by one of the few ancient species that did. Handed the secrets of the cosmos like a 20$ Amazon gift card. That feels like cheating, if you ask me. Her people too, the Xilthari, are one of these cheaters. But I digress.


    I commit every detail to memory. Of course, the truly vital knowledge¡ªengineering, ship design, the inner workings of advanced technology¡ªis beyond her expertise. But that just means I¡¯ll have to play detective once we reach her homeworld. Xilthara, was it? She describes it as a vast land of endless dunes, scattered with oasis cities. Sounds pleasant enough, though I¡¯ve never been a fan of sand.


    Xo-Ran stops by the cockpit occasionally to update us on the wounded. Seems they¡¯ll live. His interruptions grate on me, but Vira clearly appreciates them, so I tolerate him in silence. I am pleasant towards him, even.


    The bodies of the dead Verni have been stored in Roy¡¯s office. As for Derek and Roy themselves, they¡¯ve been locked away in the cell. Something something irony. The ship is on autopilot, and with Vira at the helm, there¡¯s no need to keep them around.


    Now, I know what you¡¯re thinking: Jonathan, why in God¡¯s good name are they still alive?! You said you¡¯ll make them pay! All of them, right?! Relax, I didn¡¯t go soft. Trust me, if it were up to me, I¡¯d have put the Verni down already, to conserve food at the very least. But it seems our slaver friends had prepared for a much longer journey, so resources aren¡¯t an issue. Besides, our Princess did give them her word they¡¯d survive, and I do not plan on angering her, not over something so small. Not while I still need her.


    As the hours pass, I notice Vira growing tired of our conversations¡ªher tone shifts, her answers shorten. She needs rest. Fine by me. I take my leave, letting her have the cockpit to herself.


    There are only five beds in the crew quarters, but I claim an entire room for myself¡ªtwo beds, all mine. I¡¯ve spent enough time sharing space with others. No one objects. Maybe they fear me, I did kill a few dangerous aliens in front of them. Good. Let them. Tonight, I sleep alone.


    And sleep well, I do. When I wake, I stretch and make my way to the cockpit.


    Vira is still there, slumped in her chair. She must have slept in it. The screen tells me we¡¯re about 17 hours from Xilthara. Today, she¡¯s the one asking the questions. She seems far more interested in humanity than yesterday. That could be dangerous. Yet her curiosity is focused on the trivial¡ªentertainment, music, food. Nothing of real importance. I start to wonder if she really is just a child. An adult, she assures me. About 23 of our years old. Though her species does live slightly shorter lives than us, usually dying of old age at about 75 years.


    I indulge her for hours, careful never to belittle humanity. I don¡¯t want to give these xenos any funny ideas about going on a conquest through our neighbourhood.


    The conversation grows dull. She has nothing more to offer me, and I have no interest in answering another question about human religious ceremonies or whatever nonsense she¡¯s blabbering about now. But I can tell¡ªyesterday¡¯s events still linger in her mind. She¡¯s dwelling on it. The lizard¡¯s death weighs on her.


    An opportunity.


    I wait for the conversation to die naturally. A few seconds of silence. There it is¡ªmy opening.


    ¡°¡­Still shaken up about yesterday, huh?¡± A gamble, but a calculated one. My odds are good.


    Her ears twitch. She looks surprised. ¡°Y-yeah¡­ is it that obvious?¡±


    I suppress my smile. Of course it is. It¡¯s written all over your face.


    ¡°Not really. Maybe a little. Honestly, I just wanted to see if I was the only one still thinking about it¡­¡±


    Take the bait. Take it.


    Her ears perk up. ¡°You are!? I didn¡¯t expect that¡­ You seemed so, uhm... unfazed.¡±


    She¡¯s doubting. I need to fix this¡ªquickly.


    ¡°I get why it might seem that way, really¡­ I kinda just blacked out, you know? Like my body was moving on its own. Must¡¯ve been some kind of survival instinct or something. But now that it¡¯s over¡­¡± I lower my head and look away¡ªshame, universally understood. She has to pick up on it. Maybe I should shed a tear.. No, too much.


    Her hand touches my shoulder. I won. Physical contact? Please. It¡¯s over. Here comes the killing blow.


    I speak. A whisper. Just loud enough for her to hear me.


    ¡°..I-I saw their faces in my dreams last night.¡±


    She gasps. Her pupils dilate. Played like a damn fiddle.


    A moment later, she pulls me into a hug. Too easy. And warm, actually. Pleasant.


    ¡­Okay, she¡¯s holding on a little too long now. Oh. She¡¯s crying.


    ¡°I had them too,¡± she whispers between gasps. ¡°The nightmares¡­¡±


    I hold her a little tighter. I smile. Damn, I¡¯m good.


    The day passes quickly. We talk more. I even make her laugh. I¡¯m on fast track to earning the trust of an alien princess¡ªone with access to the highest levels of classified information of an advanced interstellar civilization. And all it took was making a traumatized girl cry. I¡¯d say ¡®like stealing candy from a baby,¡¯ but that might actually be harder.


    With nine hours left before arrival, I decide to get some rest.


    That night, I dream. Brief, but vivid.


    I step out of my capsule to find a crowd waiting. Men in suits¡ªFBI, CIA, something even higher. They whisk me away for questioning. News headlines explode: Life Among the Stars. Advanced Technology. Jonathan Trent: The Man Who Will Lead Humanity.


    The President of the United States resigns. A special election is held. I win¡ª98% of the popular vote. Record turnout. Every state, of course. The people cheer.


    Foreign leaders call. Presidents, prime ministers, kings. They beg to join the United States under my rule. I accept. There is room for everyone under Jonathan Trent¡¯s guidance. They weep tears of joy. A unified Earth government is formed.


    I ascend the podium¡¯s steps. The world watches, waiting for my triumphant speech. A camera flash blinds me.


    I wake up.


    It¡¯s a bittersweet awakening, but I smile.


    Not yet, my friend. But soon.


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