“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—he 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—”

“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—give 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—”

“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—

“You… you kind of executed one of them…” she mutters.

Oh. Right.

“He—Look, 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—just 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—I 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—humanity 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—there’s a new messiah in town!

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I spend hours talking to Vira, carefully steering the conversation to extract as much information as possible while revealing little about humanity—especially our technological shortcomings. For a princess, she is surprisingly naïve, offering up valuable insights to a complete stranger of an unknown species as if it were casual small talk.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

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—engineering, ship design, the inner workings of advanced technology—is 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—her 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—two 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—entertainment, 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—yesterday’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—my 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—quickly.

“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—shame, 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—one 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—FBI, 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—98% 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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