Derek
The residential quarters are not what I expected.
I don't know what I was expecting, exactly, maybe something that looked like the inside of a spaceship from a movie, all metal corridors and blinking lights.
Instead, Kav'eth leads me through hallways that feel more like an upscale hotel, if hotels were designed by someone who had only seen pictures of human buildings and tried to recreate them from memory.
The walls are a soft cream color instead of the sterile white of the medical bay, and there's actual artwork, or at least, what I think is supposed to be artwork. Abstract swirls in blues and greens that seem to move slightly when I'm not looking directly at them.
"Is that... alive?" I ask, nodding toward one of the pieces as we walk past.
"Bioluminescent algae cultivation," Kav'eth replies without slowing his stride. "It responds to movement and electromagnetic fields. Our research indicated humans find kinetic art... soothing."
"Right. Of course it does." I'm still feeling dizzy, and the moving art isn't helping with my equilibrium. "Your research seems to indicate a lot of things. Let me guess, it also says humans prefer romantic lighting for... compatibility assessments?"
Kav'eth's skin flushes that blue color I'm learning to recognize. "The environmental design is optimized for comfort during evaluation periods."
"Evaluation periods," I repeat. "That's definitely the most romantic way anyone's ever described a date."
We stop in front of a door that looks exactly like every other door we've passed, smooth, seamless, with no visible handle or keypad. Kav'eth places his palm against a section of the wall, and the door slides open with that same soft whoosh sound from earlier.
"Your quarters," he announces, gesturing for me to enter first.
I step inside and pause, taking in the space. It looks like an expensive furniture showroom that's been completely drained of personality. Everything is perfectly arranged, immaculately clean, and rendered in shades of white and pale blue that remind me of a high-end spa.
The couch is sleek and modern, the coffee table is polished to a mirror shine, and there's a bed visible through an archway that looks like it belongs in a luxury hotel. It's all beautiful, technically perfect, and completely soulless.
"This is supposed to be romantic accommodation?" I ask, walking slowly into the room. The floor is some kind of smooth material that feels expensive under my feet.
"The design parameters were based on extensive analysis of human living spaces," Kav'eth says, following me into the room. "Our research teams studied optimal comfort configurations for partnership evaluation."
I settle onto the couch, which is actually incredibly comfortable despite looking like a museum piece. "It's very... clean. Very 'sterile bachelor pad meets alien medical facility.'"
"You find it inadequate?"
"No, it's fine. Really fine, actually." I run my hand over the couch's fabric, which feels luxurious but unfamiliar. "It's just very... showroom perfect. Like nobody actually lives here. Or dates here. Or does anything remotely human here."
Kav'eth's skin flushes that blue color I noticed before. "Our research focused on optimal design rather than... personalization."
"Makes sense for an alien dating setup, I guess." I look around again, noting the complete absence of anything that feels lived-in or romantic. "So this is where I'm staying for the next three days while you figure out if I'm suitable alien boyfriend material?"
"For the duration of the partnership assessment period, yes," Kav'eth confirms with obvious discomfort. "Though you will not be confined to these quarters exclusively. The assessment includes various activities throughout the ship."
"Activities." I look at him directly, then around the sterile room again.
"Speaking of activities, where exactly am I supposed to work out?
I don't see any weights, no cardio equipment, no resistance bands, nothing.
And before you suggest I can skip it, I haven't missed a workout in two years.
My entire dating profile is basically built on this physique. "
Kav'eth tilts his head slightly. "Dating profile?"
"You know, how I present myself to potential partners. Physical fitness, consistency, discipline." I gesture at myself. "This doesn't just happen by accident. If you're evaluating me as partnership material, you need to understand that fitness is a huge part of who I am."
"You can abstain from physical training for three days," Kav'eth says dismissively. "The assessment period is brief."
I stare at him. "Are you insane? I can't just stop working out for three days like it's no big deal."
"It is not a significant hardship," Kav'eth says, clearly not understanding why this is an issue.
"Not a significant—" I stop pacing and turn to face him.
"Okay, let me explain something to you, Councilor.
My entire lifestyle is built on consistency.
My body, my career, my mental health, all of it depends on maintaining my routine.
And you're telling me to just... take a vacation from it while you're evaluating whether I'm suitable long-term partner material? "
"The ship's facilities do not include recreational fitness equipment."
"Of course they don't," I mutter. "Because why would aliens understand that physical fitness might be important for evaluating a potential partner?"
Kav'eth's skin flushes slightly. "Nereidans maintain fitness through different methods."
"Great. What methods? Maybe I can adapt instead of losing my mind over missed workouts."
"Swimming. Aquatic resistance training."
"Swimming." I look around the sterile room. "Where?"
"The cleansing facilities include aquatic environments suitable for physical exercise."
"So I can swim in your alien bathroom. Fantastic." I run my hands through my hair. "This just keeps getting better."
I settle back onto the couch, already annoyed.
"Okay, let's talk about this assessment.
You promised me specifics about this alien matchmaking program, and I'm pretty sure 'activities throughout the ship' doesn't count as specific.
Also, please tell me these activities don't all involve sitting around talking, because I'm already going stir-crazy. "
Kav'eth moves to what I think is supposed to be a chair, though it looks more like a modernist sculpture that someone decided to upholster. He sits with perfect posture, his hands folded in his lap, every inch the formal diplomat.
"The partnership compatibility assessment is divided into three primary categories," he begins, and his voice takes on the tone of someone reading from a manual. "Social interaction evaluation, physiological compatibility testing, and emotional bonding assessment."
"And in normal human language, that means...?"
"The first category involves observing your response to Nereidan social customs, shared activities, and interpersonal dynamics. This includes meals together, recreational activities, and evaluation of your ability to adapt to partnership-based lifestyle patterns."
I nod slowly. "So you're going to see how we get along on dates. Got it. And let me guess, there's no consideration for the fact that I usually plan my meals around my training schedule and macro targets?"
Kav'eth looks genuinely confused. "The nutritional content will be optimized for human metabolic requirements."
"Optimized," I repeat flatly. "Right. Because that's totally the same thing as food I actually want to eat or that fits my nutrition plan."
"What's the second category?" I ask before he can respond to my sarcasm.
Kav'eth's skin flushes slightly again. "Physiological compatibility testing involves medical evaluation to ensure safe intimate contact between our species.
Basic health assessments, genetic analysis, and metabolic compatibility verification.
Your scans were already taken when you were transported, nothing else needs done on your end. "
"Safe intimate contact," I repeat slowly. "You're going to test whether we can... physically be together without it killing one of us."
"Among other factors, yes. The tests are non-invasive," Kav'eth says quickly. "Simple scans and analysis to ensure our physiologies can coexist safely in... close proximity."
"Okay, that actually makes sense." I'm relieved it's about basic safety rather than anything more invasive. "At least someone's thinking about whether this whole thing might kill me. What's the third category?"
"Emotional bonding assessment evaluates your capacity for empathic connection, long-term attachment formation, and psychological compatibility for life partnership."
"Empathic connection," I repeat. "So you're testing whether we can actually fall in love, or at least tolerate each other long enough for a serious relationship."
"Your adaptability to long-term partnership dynamics and emotional intimacy, yes."
I lean back in the couch, processing this. "So basically, you're going to put us through an intensive three-day relationship boot camp to see if we're compatible for alien marriage."
"You are being evaluated for potential long-term pair bonding compatibility," Kav'eth corrects with typical alien precision.
"A three-day marriage compatibility test," I say. "With someone I just met. Who's from a completely different species. And who kidnapped me." I shake my head. "My dating life has officially reached peak weird."
Kav'eth's flush deepens slightly. "The circumstances are... unconventional."
"Unconventional is one word for it." I look at him sitting there in his perfect posture, trying to maintain diplomatic composure while discussing whether we might be suitable life partners. "Can I ask you something?"
"You may."
"Have you ever actually been in a relationship before? Like, any kind of serious relationship, not just the weird alien assessment kind."