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A fireball hits the shrimp advancing on me and, with a shriek I know is going to haunt my dreams forever, it’s blown to one side, curling up into a ball before rolling away.

I scramble to my feet.

“Rosalie!” I hiss as loudly as I can. I get no response other than a low whooshing sound which is cut off suddenly. “Rosalie?” I take a risk and peer into the passage where I last saw her.

It’s empty.

I scuttle up the passage, knocking on each door as I go until I reach the one where I last saw Rosalie.

The knock rings hollow. A red symbol appears on it, one I can’t read even if somehow both Rosalie and I can understand alien languages, but it’s pretty clear through the small porthole in the door what the egg shape dropping away from the slab side of a ship means.

Rosalie ended up in an escape pod. She’s tumbling through space right now.

The entire ship shudders and a loud clang echoes through the entire place. I still don’t know where the flame came from to cook the shrimp, and I’m not sure I want to know. But these noises and sounds don’t bode well either.

I have to get off this ship and somehow find Rosalie.

I scrabble at the other doorways, kicking and punching at them, but it’s clear they’re not unlocking any time soon, so I can’t use any of them to follow my friend. Tears threaten my eyes. This situation was bad enough when there were two of us.

Another blast of hot air hits me. It’s not the same flame which cooked the shrimp, but it carries with it a strong smell of smoke…

along with something else. Something not unpleasant, a faint spice perhaps.

But given all we’ve been smelling during our time on board is alien farts, just about anything has to smell better.

With a trembling hand, I pull out my hand-drawn map. There is an airlock, or at least Rosalie said it was an airlock, not too far from where I am. I doubt very much if it’ll present a way off this ship, but as the escape pods are not going to work for me, I have to do something.

Anything.

I pocket the map, and having checked the coast is clear, I leave the still steaming body of the shrimp and creep along the open passage towards the airlock. The smoke gets thicker the further I go, and a further fear grips me about the ship being on fire.

What happens to a ship on fire in space? Does it go out? Does it implode? These are the sort of questions Rosalie would answer. But she’s not here.

I hold back a pathetic sob. It wasn’t like I had much in this universe, but having a friend anywhere is a good thing.

The smoke swirls around me, and within it are huge, dark shapes, much bigger than any of the aliens I’ve seen so far.

“That’s not a Bloar,” a voice rasps through the air. “What is it?”

I turn, ready to run, and instead slam into a hard abdomen. The impact, like before, sends me skidding backwards on my bum until I hit the side of the ship.

The smoke clears as if sucked outside, and I find I’m looking up at a creature so very different from the seafood I’ve seen so far.

For a start, he is enormous, well over seven foot in height.

And he is most definitely a he in all senses of the word.

Eschewing clothing on his upper half, his golden scaled body, all defined muscles, glistens at me.

A long, sinuous tail wags behind him, covered with a healthy selection of bony spikes.

Smoke curls from one nostril as if he’s just taken a drag on a cigarette.

Only there’s no sign of one—only the heavy laser rifle he holds in one huge clawed hand. Long dark hair hangs around his face meaning all I can see is a pair of glittering eyes, focussed directly on me.

“Looks like I found a snack,” he growls, voice rasping its way to my ears in the way only a habitual smoker can do.

“Er…nope.” I pop the “p” as I get to my feet and dart away from him down a side passage.

I doubt very much I’m going to get far away from this behemoth of a creature, but I’m going to damn well make him work for his meal.

Who knows. Maybe I’ll also find an escape pod?

But seeing the shadows of other huge creatures coming out of the smoke tells me I have no escape. All this time in space, and I never considered being eaten was an option.

I guess I’m on the menu. And this tasty morsel has nowhere left to go.