Page 5 of Space Daddy’s Guide to the Galaxy (Villains in Space #2)

5

MICAH

What the hell is that thing?

And why is it so cuuuuute?

While my brain knew it was an alien of some kind, I quickly decided it was also a cuddly kitty—albeit, the anime version, able to transform into a deadly monster at any moment.

What else is new around here?

After departing Marox and setting a course for Stellaria, I’d switched to autopilot and taken a closer look at what Ziggy was up to. Yes, he’d mentioned a “vermin” problem, but to a bad bitch like Zig, that could’ve meant anything from a single rat to a horde of Maroxians.

Once I’d determined the only heat signatures were coming from the ventilation system— and just what my man was doing in there was anyone’s guess —I checked on the egg through the live feed of our closed circuit security system.

That’s when I realized I needed to step in.

It wasn’t that I thought Zig couldn’t handle himself—even if I would prefer him to take me on all his missions—but stalking a helpless baby through the ductwork was not part of the assignment.

That man needs to shape up if we’re ever going to have space babies together!

Ignoring the delulu vision of my Space Daddy becoming a real daddy, I’d refocused on reality—specifically on the immediate need to stop Zig from killing anyone he shouldn’t.

After disengaging the lockdown doors, I’d hustled along the gangway, following the truly terrifying sounds of pursuit until I reached the kitchen. Picking my way through the various piles of weaponry, I’d tracked the situation to just above the stove’s new range hood, which meant Ziggy had successfully trapped the newborn.

And that went about as well as expected.

I still wasn’t exactly sure what had gone down in the ductwork, but I was currently covered in debris and engaged in a stare down with the most adorable little ball of Big Mad I’d ever seen.

They’re really just a baby.

“Put up your shields!” Ziggy barked in Stellarian, and even though he was being ridiculously cautious in the face of such cuteness, I obeyed.

Because he’s baby too…

Babygirl, really.

Luckily, my man seemed to be letting me take it from here, though I could tell Zig would attack the instant anyone breathed wrong.

Looks like I need to lead by example.

While I also hadn’t experienced nurturing parents, my older siblings—especially Zion—had always taken care of me. Plus, I liked kids and, with a family as large as mine, I was just used to having them around.

And the first rule of dealing with kids is to never show them fear.

“Hey, there…” I soothed in Earthling American English, more to relay a calm vibe than communicate with words.

Since my translation device isn’t picking up on the language here.

When the furball continued to watch me warily, I slid down the wall into a crouch, then extended my hand—palm up—and did the only thing I could think of to diffuse the situation.

I pspsps'd.

“What are you doing?” Ziggy hissed, his incorporeal form pulsing with agitated glow.

Determined not to get distracted by his awe-inspiring appearance, I made the sound again, louder this time, so it would project beyond my shields.

Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.

What my stellar collision didn’t understand was this was the universal language—trade language, if you will—for all things cute and cuddly. I felt no small amount of pride when the baby alien cocked their head before dropping to all fours, pointing their tail at me like a beacon and trotting closer.

There you go.

“See, Zig?” I huffed, disengaging my shields and dropping fully to the floor so they could clamber into my lap. “A little kindness goes a long way.”

Ziggy huffed—as much as a cluster of stars could huff. “I was being kind.”

By not killing it, he means.

I giggled as the creature hooked their baby sloth claws around my neck and snuggled closer. Moving slowly so I wouldn’t disturb or frighten them, I wrapped my sweatshirt—Ziggy’s, actually—around both of us and zipped my new furbaby into a kangaroo pouch.

Ziggy drifted closer, causing the little guy or girl—or nonbinary alien—to tense and growl low.

“You’re scaring them!” I scolded, frantically shooing him away. “Go… change into the least threatening skinsuit you have.”

I should have known which skinsuit he considered harmless, but when Ziggy disappeared, only to reappear a few seconds later, I sighed.

Earthling, of course.

“See, little one?” I pspsps’d again for good measure. “He’s a friend.”

Ziggy scoffed, continuing to eye his fellow alien with distrust. “I am not a friend.”

Sighing, I awkwardly struggled to my feet, stumbling a bit due to the unfamiliar redistribution of weight. When I glanced at Zig, his darkened gaze was drinking me in, especially the large lump hanging around my midsection, implying he liked how I looked right now.

I see you.

Breeding kink for the win.

“Well, you're my friend—my best friend,” I teased. “So I don’t think it should be that hard for you to be nice to everyone on board until we get to Stellaria.”

He gave me a flat look. “This is a job, Micah. I’m a mercenary tasked with delivering an asset to Astrum Force Command. That is all.”

Such a stubborn Space Daddy.

“Okay, but can we at least not call them ‘an asset?’” I muttered. “They are a living thing.”

Ziggy sighed, but his tasty lips were turning up at the corners despite his best efforts. “Very well. What would you like to call it?”

I opened my mouth, only to snap it closed again, unsure how to answer. It felt weird to randomly give the creature a name without knowing anything about their culture or what language they spoke.

They’re not a pet.

“Pspsps…” a little voice whispered from deep within my sweatshirt cocoon, and I laughed as inspiration struck.

“Pedro,” I blurted out.

“Pedro?” Ziggy arched an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” I powered on, fucking delighted by the internet humor-inspired opportunity I’d been blessed with. “Pedro Pspspscal.”

Ziggy huffed a laugh, unable to resist my antics, as usual. “You’re naming it after the actor from The Mandalorian?”

I SEE YOU!

My man always tried to act annoyed whenever I made him take a goddamn break and watch sci-fi with me. This may have had something to do with my constant questions about ‘accuracy’ while he was trying to enjoy the show, but it was mostly because Zig didn’t know how to relax.

“Well, duh.” I cackled, earning me a trilling sound from within my makeshift baby carrier. “You know I’m a ho for anything Mando. A Mand-HO-lorian, if you will.”

Yes, I crack myself up.

Deal with it.

Ziggy’s gaze darkened again. “Like how you react when I’m wearing my armor?”

I rolled my eyes, even as my cheeks heated. “Again, duh. I told you I had to hustle to my room for some privacy the first time I saw you suited up.”

Insta-boner.

Like the cocky bastard he was, Zig smiled smugly and advanced. “You did tell me, but you never elaborated. What exactly did you imagine while chasing relief, babygirl? My gloved fingers inside you, fucking you slow until your cum decorated my sexy Stellarian armor?”

“Zig!” I gasped, wiping the drool from my mouth before covering Pedro’s ears. “Not in front of the baby!”

But… yes.

He rolled his eyes this time. “It doesn’t understand what we’re saying, Micah.”

“They,” I corrected before glancing down.

Pedro’s enormous eyes were closed, their little face tucked against my chest as they faintly snored.

Ugh, so cute.

“Do you know what species they are?” I asked. “Now that they’ve hatched, I mean.”

Ziggy frowned and peered closer. “I do not, but once we deliver it… them to Astrum Force, tests can be conducted.”

“Tests?!” I hissed, lowering my voice when my bundle stirred. “I’m not letting a bunch of Stellarians cut Pedro open with their katana-tendrils.”

Over my dead body.

My katana-wielding alien smiled kindly. “This was a rescue mission, sunshine, which means we will need to determine where this creature came from—so we can return them to their home planet.” He paused as something like regret passed over his deceptively boyish face. “Remember, this isn’t the old Astrum Force. I promise, Honnor would never allow anything bad to happen to your… friend.”

He’s trying.

“I know,” I muttered, slightly embarrassed I’d implied his kind would treat Pedro like a lab rat. “I’m just… feeling protective, I guess…”

Ziggy hummed, his gaze growing hooded again. “I noticed.”

I bet you did.

“Do you like what you see, Space Daddy?” I covered Pedro’s ears once again, unable to resist flirting with my man. “Does it get you thinking about what Gabe said—about how pretty I'd look all knocked up?”

You’d look pretty too.

“Careful, Micah,” he warned in a tone that made my toes curl. “Before I wreck you all over again.”

As tempting as that threat was, even I could admit I was legitimately sore from Maroxian monster cock.

Plus, we have a mission to complete!

I smirked, determined to get in the last word anyway. “Lemme just go put the baby to bed…” When Ziggy’s eyes lit up, I laughed. “So we can clean this disaster of a ship together! Get your mind out of the gutter, sheesh.”

My man growled in annoyance but dutifully turned and began gathering the weapons I’d dumped here earlier.

And if I took an extra moment to admire the way his ass flexed in his slutty gray sweatpants… Well, who could blame me?

We’ll be alone again soon enough…

Ignoring how weirdly sad that made me, I headed toward the weapons-room-nursery, dutifully focused on settling Pedro into their crib before tackling the Maroxian goo situation on the gangway.

Just another day as a bad bish mercenary for Astrum Force.