Page 7 of Space Daddy’s Guide to the Galaxy (Villains in Space #2)

7

MICAH

Reentering Stellaria’s bubblegum pink atmosphere never got old.

I’d once asked Ziggy if everything here was glittery to camouflage a Stellarian’s yassified true form, but he hadn’t seemed eager to answer the question—which was answer enough for me.

The silence is LOUD with that one.

Regardless, I was looking forward to visiting some of our favorite local haunts—like the dunes where you could race tricked-out vehicles, or the “safest” bazaar in town.

Complete with the occasional blood puddle for ambience.

As much as I enjoyed our space adventures, I was also more than a little excited to play house until our next assignment. Ziggy preferred to exist in his Earthling skinsuit even here, and seeing him puttering around his modest home—cleaning his weapons, organizing his weapons, obsessively feeding and watering me—gave me all the domestic feels.

The first order of business was handing off Pedro to Honnor, which didn’t sit right with me. I trusted Ziggy’s maker implicitly, but walking into the audience chamber of Candyland Court always triggered me. This was probably thanks to the time Ziggy put me to sleep so he could fight the entire Astrum Force Command by himself, only for me to still need to face off against the Head Commander while thinking the love of my life was dead.

Good times… said no one.

To their credit, Honnor and their partner, Bron—the space dads, as I liked to call them—had put serious work into revamping Astrum Force. It was no longer a totalitarian dictatorship, and the missions assigned to its Star Units, or stray mercenaries like us, were more focused on humanitarian efforts than colonialism.

Case in point: Rescuing kidnapped alien babies and returning them to their natural habitat.

Wherever that is…

As if knowing I was thinking about them, Pedro made an adorable trilling sound and snuggled closer in their makeshift sweatshirt baby carrier.

Ugh.

“Hopefully, that creature isn’t imprinting on you,” Ziggy muttered as he strode beside me down the bustling Gumdrop Pass. “It will make the handoff difficult.”

I sighed, doing my best to ignore how indifferent he sounded about the situation. Zig used this same emotionless tone in most public situations as part of his mercenary mask, but I’d thought a furry ball of cuteness might crack his stony exterior.

After all, I managed to do it!

In the end, he was a product of his orphaned upbringing, although he’d come a long way from the emotionally constipated, Deathball-playing ‘hero’ in a stolen skinsuit I’d first met at my family’s house back on Earth.

Nowadays, he talked about his feelings—occasionally and only to me, and mostly when Dr. Micah was in session—but he was trying.

Baby steps.

So, while I didn’t necessarily expect him to leap at the chance to fulfill my Mando and Grogu Space Daddy fantasy, I was determined to get at least one photo of them together before my dreams died.

“You’re right.” I dug Pedro out of their nest and held them out for the taking. “Maybe you should transport the asset from here.”

Ziggy instinctively shrank from the bundle of joy, but as soon as he realized I was serious, he sighed and dutifully let Pedro climb him like a tree.

The instinct is real.

Once the little creature reached Zig’s shoulders, they draped themselves around his neck like a scarf—creating the perfect photo op.

“Must you?” my man grumbled as I took at least twenty rapid-fire photos with my phone.

“Yup!” I cheerfully replied, taking twenty more.

I’d made it my mission to get the two of them acclimated to one another during our short flight back to Stellaria, mostly through the same form of trickery I was using now.

Forced proximity and big puppy dog eyes.

While they weren’t the besties I’d hoped for—or the scrappy father-son duo I’d dreamed of—at least no one was hissing anymore.

Including Zig.

“There are the brave soldiers!” Bron called out in Stellarian the instant we walked through the doors.

This friendly greeting was in sharp contrast to the intimidating vibe of the last Astrum Force Command lineup. It helped that the twelve raised thrones they’d perched on to loom over us had been removed so everyone could be on equal footing during an audience. The walls of the audience chamber were still made of a stone so black, it sucked the light from the room, but Zig had explained this material was mined from deep within Stellaria’s core, so it was meant to be more a show of pride than anything.

Whatever you say, Space Daddy.

It’s still creepy.

Even with the new Head Commander being his maker, Ziggy had still worn his Stellarian armor for the occasion—which I greatly approved of—and of course, the commanding officers had done the same.

“No more Zeanidions?” I joked in English, knowing they could understand me even without my harp.

I only play that for Ziggy.

Bron was nothing but a swirl of stars behind the open visor of their helmet, but I could plainly feel their amusement. “We grew tired of those terrestrial forms,” they replied as Honnor wrapped up their nearby conversation with a Star Unit squadron leader and joined us. “So back to the communal skinsuit closet they went!”

I cringed and glanced at my stellar collision. I’d gotten a little tipsy during our last dinner with the space dads and let slip how much I enjoyed browsing Ziggy’s closet and making him try on different outfits for me.

While I hadn’t outright said why we played dress up, I'm sure the subtext had been loud and clear. Zig had been horrified by my confession— what else is new? —but Honnor and Bron responded by cackling their starry little heads off before dragging us both to the “communal skinsuit closet” for a family field trip.

The closet was located a few levels below the audience chamber—only accessible by star hopping, of course—and the sheer selection was awe-inspiring.

And boner-inspiring, if I’m being honest.

Since Honnor and Bron were as patient with my endless questions as Ziggy was, I also learned why a resource of this magnitude needed to exist. Star Units typically traveled to their destination together, either by star hopping or aboard a generic carrier ship with no room for the massive closet they’d need to outfit everyone, so they suited up before they left. This meant thousands of vessels were needed at any given moment, and those that weren’t being used were left vacant, awaiting possession beneath our feet.

Which is weirdly… not creepy.

You might think there’d be mixed opinions on the ethics of Stellarian body-snatching habits, but besides the understandable fear this top predator inspired, the intergalactic consensus seemed to be that they were simply following their natural instincts.

It is what it is.

Hot, in my opinion.

I’d also discovered most Stellarians preferred their starry true form, either free floating or encased in their cozy, leather-lined armor. That is, unless they’d discovered a perfect candidate for their true purpose in life—as a muse melded with their ideal vessel.

Zig and I had accidentally discovered this arrangement during our final boss battle with Astrum Force Command, but most Stellarians weren’t aware it was an option.

Because their leaders hid the truth from them.

And continue to…

The “True Stellarians”—as the rebellion called themselves—knew the truth, but even after returning to their home planet, they’d been hesitant to share with their less-enlightened brethren. Honnor explained it was too risky, that most Stellarians had been conditioned to believe conquest was their birthright, so encouraging them to take over someone’s body with the hopes they’d leave them alive had the potential to go horribly wrong.

So, until it was deemed safe to spill the tea, the current focus was on goodwill missions—like rebuilding Kaalanesea—to educate these katana-wielding murder machines in the fine art of empathy and emotional intelligence first.

Dr. Micah has been consulting on an unofficial basis.

I would have been more involved in this mass deprogramming project, but Zig didn’t want to risk me being asked to stay while he flew off on missions of his own.

Even if I was left behind on the ship for this last one…

“How did the extraction on Marox go?” Honnor asked, pure parental pride radiating from them as they observed Pedro perched on Ziggy’s shoulders. “No casualties, I see.”

Well…

I glanced at Ziggy, remembering how he’d advised we not talk about the Maroxian I fought and killed. Our mission was supposed to be covert—with no bloodshed—and an unnecessary trail of bodies would not look good for the new Astrum Force.

So, the old in-and-out is what we did.

Which is also true, in a way…

“Uneventful,” Ziggy smoothly replied for both of us. “The security the Maroxians had guarding the asset was pitiful.”

“Pedro,” I added, wincing as all three Stellarians turned their attention to me.

“You named it?” Bron asked, tone dripping with amusement again.

“Yes, I named them,” I corrected, annoyed these nonbinary star clusters weren’t understanding the importance of a gender-neutral pronoun. “Because they’re a living creature and just a baby and shouldn’t be experimented on in any way.”

Real smooth, Micah…

Unsurprisingly, it was Honnor who stepped in to calm me down. “We have no intention of experimenting on Pedro, although we will need to gather a few samples to help determine their planet of origin.” They turned to Ziggy. “Were you able to gather any intel during the mission?”

What?

I had no idea snooping had been part of the plan but, then again, this mission hadn’t exactly been a team effort.

My partner briefly glanced at me before straightening. “I… forgot.”

What?!

This was clearly bullshit. Ziggy was the most meticulous creature I’d ever met. If he’d been unable to track anything down while on Marox, it was because the intel didn’t exist.

Or…

“It was my fault!” I blurted out, making Ziggy tense. “I distracted him—as always—so he ran out of time.”

And this is why I get left behind.

Bron hummed thoughtfully. “Yes, our mates can be extremely distracting. It was all I could do to stay hidden when you captured Honnor in that tractor beam on Zeanides.”

“Oh, you mean before you attempted to kidnap me?” I replied dryly while Ziggy bristled at the terrifying memory.

“Yes.” Bron chuckled in the musical way Stellarians could in their true form. “That was fun.”

I wouldn't have called it that.

“It’s all right, Ziggy.” Honnor once again diffused the situation. “It will be easier for us to identify the creature now that they’ve hatched.”

Honnor reached for Pedro but quickly withdrew their armor-covered hands when the newborn hissed and clung tighter to Ziggy.

“Ruh-roh, Zig!” I sang, beaming at my scowling stellar collision. “Looks like someone might have imprinted on someone else.”

“No one has imprinted on me,” he snapped as Bron snickered. “Pedro is simply a lifeform of lower intelligence with a barely developed brain!”

Is that all he got out of his phone call with Zion?

Because, yeah, big bro told me everything.

I rolled my eyes. “My bad. I forgot. All Stellarians are geniuses at birth.”

“We are.” Ziggy crossed his arms and sniffed haughtily, trying his hardest to look cool with a hissing furball peering over his shoulder. “We are one of the highest forms of intelligence in all the galaxies.”

Sounds like someone wants a certificate.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t make assumptions, my child,” Honnor gently replied. “You know better than most that not everything is as it seems when it comes to other species.”

Mic drop!

Ziggy didn’t reply, but I knew he’d give his creator’s words the consideration they deserved.

To their credit, Honnor didn’t push. Instead, they patiently waited for Ziggy to unhook Pedro’s claws from around his neck and hold the agitated creature out like a smelly sock, ripe for the taking.

It’s okay, little guy.

Or girl.

Or… nonbinary alien.

I guess they’ll figure that out soon enough.

Knowing the waterworks were on the way, I pulled Pedro into my arms for a goodbye snuggle.

“I’m gonna miss you, furbaby,” I murmured as the expected tears threatened to fall.

“We promise, Pedro will be well looked after until we can safely return them to their home planet,” Honnor soothed, and I felt Pedro go limp in my arms, as if suddenly overcome by exhaustion.

When I narrowed my eyes at Honnor, they chuckled before throwing in a blast of our shared resonance for good measure.

Cheater.

“If you would like, you may stop by the lab tomorrow while our scientists conduct their examination,” Bron piped in.

I glanced at Ziggy, but my man was busy fiddling with his Celestial Cube, apparently already done with the conversation and the orphaned alien baby.

Hmph.

While I wasn’t super jazzed about seeing Pedro being poked and prodded, making sure no Stellarian scientist turned the creature into a lab rat had its appeal.

“I’ll be there,” I announced, lifting my chin. “We’ll be there.”

“What?” Ziggy snapped, but I was already handing Pedro off, glad the little alien seemed way more chill about the handoff than before, thanks to the sleepy ish.

I’m still gonna get emotional about it, though.

“Why did you offer to get involved?” Ziggy hissed as we headed back down Gumdrop Pass. “Our mission is over?—”

“Maybe because I’m having a hard time letting go!” I barked angrily, which was a rare enough occurrence to have him snapping his mouth shut for the remainder of the walk.

Oops.

“I can fix things,” he confidently stated once we stepped outside, and my salty attitude weakened in the face of such assured competency.

Oh, what will Space Daddy do?

Ziggy took my hands in his and gazed so intently into my eyes, my breath caught.

Wait.

Is he…?

“Micah Salah,” he began, and I grew lightheaded, swaying unsteadily on my feet.

IS THIS HAPPENING?!

“Sunshine.” He dipped his head and kissed me sweetly before straightening. “What you need is for me to feed you some cock.”