Page 16 of Space Daddy’s Guide to the Galaxy (Villains in Space #2)

16

MICAH

Apparently, what came next was Ziggy looking like a Wookie.

While I had flipped through his skinsuit closet from end to end at this point, my body-snatching alien’s ‘outfits’ were encased in carbonite when not in use. This shrink-wrap effect either left nothing up to the imagination or more questions than answers, depending on whether the vessels were covered in skin, scales, or fur.

Or a Sasquatch-level pelt.

Which… I’m not hating…

“Dang, Zig. If you wanted me to roll all over you like a bearskin rug, all you had to do was ask,” I teased, eye-fucking his full furry splendor, knowing it would get a reaction from my man.

He didn’t disappoint. Ziggy’s ferociously furry face morphed into a grumpy scowl before he replied in the trade language. “Presenting myself as a Borque seemed appropriate for our current situation. They are a fierce but relatively peaceful species Hydrassians will be familiar with and, therefore, comfortable encountering in their world.”

I nodded solemnly, drinking in how he chose to attach the baby sling to himself for the mission ahead. It also didn’t escape my notice that Pedro was gurgling up a storm in my arms, reaching for Ziggy with clawed grabby hands.

“Makes sense,” I breezily replied. “And it’s just a happy accident you chose a skinsuit that looks as close to a certain someone as possible, hmm?”

I see you.

After quickly checking the karnilian - masking shields I’d created for Pedro before we allowed the Hydrassian on board, I handed our furbaby to their favorite— furry—space dad, before staring at Ziggy expectantly.

“It crossed my mind that choosing a visually similar skinsuit might help disguise what Pedro is to those unfamiliar with Trols,” Ziggy huffed as he focused on settling his Mini-Me into their cozy kangaroo pouch. “This is an intel-gathering mission, so I’d rather not engage in combat unless necessary.”

We have wildly different definitions of “necessary” when it comes to violence.

My attention snagged on another part of his redirection. “Okay, but… wouldn’t it be safe to assume Hydrassians are familiar with Trols? At least the elders will be, right?”

Ziggy cocked his head. “Yes. However, between your shields masking the karnilian and Pedro staying out of sight, it should be assumed they’re nothing but my— our— offspring.”

I seeeee youuuu….

“We could also leave Pedro on the ship,” I continued teasing, physically unable to give this poor man a break. “I managed to get the nanny bot up and running?—”

“Well, I would prefer to test out the nanny bot while we’re present,” Ziggy sniffed, trying so hard to act indifferent. “To ensure everything functions correctly.”

I. See. You.

Before I could continue my second favorite hobby—after Tendril Touchy Time—Ziggy added, “And I’m uncertain how much the other species on the planet know about Trols, so I’d rather keep Pedro close.”

Wait.

“Other species?” I yelped. “What? I thought all these planets we’ve been going to were homogenous…”

Borque-Ziggy gave me an odd, accidentally threatening look. “Why would you think that? Humans may be the dominant species on Earth—supes, I should say—but that doesn’t mean your planet only supports life for a single species, correct?”

“Hmm…” I replied, forcibly stopping myself from asking a million follow-up questions to this bombshell. “I just assumed , since I haven’t really seen other species anywhere… except on Stellaria.”

A smirk twitched the fur covering Ziggy’s lips. “Just because you haven’t noticed other species doesn’t mean they’re not there, noticing you.”

Well, that’s not creepy or anything.

“Okay, then,” I huffed, crossing my arms, annoyed yet again that I was being given only partial intel. “What other creatures should I be looking out for on Hydrassianidesellaria?”

Yeah… I don’t know what the planet is called…

Ziggy raised his furry paw to his mouth for a pretend cough. “Dionaea. The planet is called Dionaea —after the dominant species.”

I chewed on my bottom lip, dredging up my rusty Latin to remember what on Earth was in the Dionaea genus.

Oh, gawd…

“Are you telling me there are going to be giant flies on this planet?!” I gasped, clutching my Han Solo vest dramatically. “Like… Jeff Goldblum-sized flies?”

Jeff Goldblum—smash.

The Fly—pass.

There was no mistaking the baffled expression on Borque-Ziggy’s face. “I’m talking about Dionaea muscipula, Micah. I believe Earthlings have welcomed adolescent versions into their society as ‘Venus flytraps.’ Unwisely, I might add.”

“EXCUSE YOU?!” I shouted, startling Pedro into popping their furry little head out of the baby sling.

Okay, but that’s adorable…

After quickly snapping a dozen photos with my phone, I refocused. “Venus flytraps are actually aliens? I thought that was just Little Shop of Horrors lore.” My blood ran cold as the rest of his statement caught up with me. “Wait… so what we have on Earth are only adolescents?”

Ziggy nodded. “Yes, and as long as Earthlings aren’t stupid enough to feed the adolescents human blood, they will remain a manageable, relatively safe size, unlike what’s on Dionaea.” He paused to give me a hard look. “So stay away from the tree line once we’re there.”

DULY FUCKING NOTED!

“You don’t have one of those in your skinsuit closet, do you?” I shuddered as I checked my own shields. “Because ya boy is also swiping left on man-eating plants.”

Along with Lacertus and those creepy giant spider things…

Arachs.

He made a chuffing sound that was probably a laugh. “Very well. I will add Dionaea muscipula to the extremely short list of skinsuits you’re uninterested in. Any others you can think of at the moment?”

I ignored his painfully accurate dig in favor of giving his Wookie wardrobe an exaggerated once-over.

No doubt noticing my perusal, Borque-Ziggy grinned, exposing a pair of vampire-worthy canines that promised fun, bitey times ahead. His fur— pelt?— was pin-straight, chestnut brown, and so glossy, it reflected the various lights blinking in the landing bay, indicating our imminent arrival on Dionaea. It was also thick, because when my gaze drifted south, there was no way to tell what he was packing below the proverbial belt.

Since I don’t think my man is wearing any clothes beneath all that fur.

The thought of some random Hydrassians—or oversized house plants—seeing Ziggy naked made near-psychotic jealousy blast through me, but I banished the ridiculous concern. Western Earthling standards of so-called “decency” didn’t apply in outer space, as I’d come to learn many times over during our adventures, and I doubted the snake-headed seers would find him attractive anyway.

While we’re on the subject…

“I would also like to remove Hydrassians from the body snatcher buffet menu,” I added decisively. “Anything reptilian, really…”

It’s all a little too close to big bro’s supe form.

“Noted,” he chuckled. “I don’t believe I have a Hydrassian in my closet anyway, since I’ve never needed one for a mission before.” Those big canines came into view again. “Perhaps I should add to the collection today?—”

“No, Zig,” I mock-scolded, knowing he was only kidding.

During one of his many sessions with Dr. Micah, Ziggy had confessed that, since leaving behind the twin Kaalanesean kings, it no longer felt right to take over any bodies he hadn’t already acquired.

While I appreciated the sentiment, I’d told my Stellarian not to promise anything that went against his nature. Inhabiting another’s body was what he was meant to do—even if his true purpose in life was to provide inspiration to his stellar collision.

That’s me, bitches.

Before I disappeared down the Ziggy-fucking-me-from-the-inside fantasy rabbit hole I’d been inhabiting lately, I refocused once again. “On that note, shouldn’t we be letting our Hydrassian out of their holding cell now that we’ve landed?”

There was a small holding cell on the Lodger 79—only accessible by star hopping—and even though the Hydrassian we’d liberated from the space dads wasn’t technically a prisoner, there was quite literally nowhere else to put them on the ship.

Aside from the boiler room.

Ziggy nodded before disappearing, reappearing a moment later with six sputtering snake heads attached to a lizard creature.

“There is no need to treat us so roughly! We have already agreed to take you to the elders?—”

“Yes, you have,” Borque-Ziggy loomed all seven-and-a-half feet of hairy goodness over our tour guide. “And it shouldn’t need to be said, but if you reveal what I am—what either of us are—I will wipe out your entire settlement.”

Babygirl boner imminent!

“Understood,” the Hydrassian shook themselves free before noticing the baby sling. “You… have a child?” They glanced at me, confused. “Together?”

I grinned, unable to hide my excitement over both Pedro’s karnilian - masking shields working and this alien thinking we’d gotten down to baby-making.

Only in spirit, unfortunately.

“That’s none of your concern,” Ziggy growled, placing a protective paw over the sling, making me swoon. “Now,” he practically shoved his fellow alien down the deployed ramp, “take us to the elders.”

“It wasn’t our intention to pry,” the Hydrassian muttered, sneaking another peek at Pedro’s bundled form. “We were simply unaware Stellarians reproduced at all. Not much is known about your kind, aside from your reputation for killing other aliens indiscriminately.”

Ziggy didn’t respond as we walked a blessedly foliage-free path toward a nearby mountain range, but I sensed the tension ratcheting up a few degrees.

This already does not bode well.

“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear,” I replied, earning me a warning growl from my man. “I mean, yes, Stellarians can kill any alien in the… our paths, but that’s not our purpose in life.”

I could tell Ziggy didn’t approve of the loose lips I was exhibiting, but my tea spilling was strategic.

Trust equals more tea.

The Hydrassian hummed thoughtfully. “That is unexpected, and in stark contrast to most war-minded species. When one’s only goal is to conquer, it does not leave much room for nuance.”

All or nothing.

“Do species come to you for predictions on anything other than war?” I asked, genuinely curious.

The Hydrassian seemed surprised. “Yes, occasionally—although the desire for love, marriage, or offspring is not usually treated with quite the same sense of urgency as the lust for war.”

Ya boy begs to differ.

“And is karnilian used for those rituals as well?” I asked, even more genuinely curious.

Incredibly invested, you could say.

The Hydrassian laughed sadly, leading us through a cleverly disguised opening in a craggy rock face. “No, the stones used for domestic matters are far more common and easily acquired without bloodshed.”

Of course.

As we followed our guide into the depths of the mountain, I was reminded of when we visited the True Stellarians hiding on the three moons of Invenio-Astralis.

Genero, Interitus, and Apotelesma.

Birth, death, and the effect of the stars on human destiny.

Pedro had also been displaced from their planet of origin—a refugee hiding in plain sight—and if anyone could help us get them home, it was possibly a species with no skin in the game aside from guiding others toward what may or may not already be written in the stars.