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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Void_Vagabond on 2024-12-27 18:07:04+00:00.

“I’m gonna have sex with her.”

“Please, don’t do that.”

Private Roger Rodriguez sat around a table in the communal section of the Starship Worthy Endeavor, eating lunch with his only two friends off Earth, Private First Class Ovcharov and Corporal Bauer, or Ovi and Babe. But Rodiguez had his eyes on the Octurian girl that just recently joined the crew. And she had her eyes on him. At least, he was pretty sure. They were all black with little white spots, like a view of the stars through a porthole, and at least three of them were pointing at Rodriguez. He recognized the look. It was the, get over here and do nasty things to me, look.

“She wants to bang.”

“It’s her first time in a different star system,” Ovi reminded. “She’s never seen humans before.” Then he glanced over at the new arrival and relented. “Okay, maybe she wants to bang, but why you?”

“Cause I’m sexy!”

Ovi and Babe just laughed at that.

“Yeah. Five-foot-seven, a hundred fifty pounds wet,” Babe remarked. “The pinnacle of human potential. The Corps is lucky to have you.” Then she took a drink and turned around to check out the Octurian, who quickly looked away with her four spider-like eyes.

“She is kinda cute though. Despite the eyes, and the… fangs. I think? And the pale exo-skin, and the tentacle hair, and everything else. At least she’s humanoid. Blur your eyes, take a few shots, and she’s a solid nine.”

“Apparently it’s very common,” Ovi noted with a final glance at the alien girl. “Researchers say it might be due to mechanical advantages. Bilateral symmetry allows for efficient mobility. Bipedal movement frees up extra appendages to work as object manipulators. Plus, the central nervous system stays high off the ground. And—”

“—Ass and hips allow for leverage in the thrust,” Rodriguez interjected as his eyes roamed over every curve on the slender alien. Her face may have been a shock at first, but he was starting to think of it as cute. Or at least unique. As for the rest of her, he couldn’t help but think, Jesus-Lord, gimme! In other words, she wore her form-fitting pressure suit very well.

Besides, Rodriguez liked the attention, alien or not. Because the Octurian had been eyeing him since she arrived, and even though she was currently turned away he could still see that the skin where her lips should have been curled up into a slight smile. Ovi had said Octurians didn’t smile or communicate through body language in the same way that humans did, but one look at the alien woman told Rodriguez otherwise. She wanted him.

“She’s still technically an officer,” Babe warned as she shoved Rodriguez. “And some kind of big shit back in her star system. So don’t be a dumbass.”

“Hey. I would never do anything… uncouth. That’s a word, right?”

Ovi nodded.

“Yeah. I wouldn’t be uncouth toward a lady. I’m a Space Marine. Gotta represent.”

Princess Shi’ark eyed the hairless, stubby human from across the public module of the human starship. He was the one, the only warrior among the spaceborne humans trained in hand-to-hand combat, and a damn good fighter according to the records of the Intelligence Ministry.

And, even more importantly, he was young, dumb, and full of… whatever the humans called it. Shi’ark clearly saw the heat radiating off the young male in waves as he stared her down. He obviously wanted her. She could even smell his pheromones among all the others. It stunk like the blood and fat of a fresh drun’dna kill, so much so that she struggled to keep her face from cringing in disgust.

Still, Private Rodriguez had his own kind of appeal.

He was a little misshapen, like all humans, but obviously strong for his size. Yet even better, he was a trained grappler and striker, and he was very, very strong compared to Octurians. Again, just like the rest of his species. It was ridiculous, really. Not only did the humans evolve in a gravity well twice as high as that of the average habited world, but they also escaped their hellish planet early in their development, and so retained the physicality of a brute creature.

He’ll be a force of nature on Octurai, Princess Shi’ark thought with an excited twitch of her mandibles. Sure, Private Rodriguez was not the most handsome thing, but he was a skilled warrior from an allied world of immense power, and the more she imagined him barreling through blaster fire and waves of her enemies in Octurian armor, the more excited she became.

I’ll learn to love the smell, the princess told herself. Health Minister Ayr’Thia assured me that reproduction was possible between our species, on the Octurian side, at least. But she maintained that it was a game of odds. If I want even one batch of eggs, me and the ‘Mar-een’ will have to keep to a schedule. No less than three tries a cycle. Regardless, the monarchy should be secure after just one success.

The alien girl pressed against Rodriguez as they squeezed into her guest cabin. He could feel her sharp breath against his skin. It smelled sour like liquor, but her eyes and posture were sharp like a predator. The claws of her hands softly scratched the skin of his arms as she grabbed onto Rodriguez.

“Uh. Nice cabin,” he muttered as she stripped out of her uniform, trying his best to stall for time and look anywhere else but into the alien’s face, because goddamn, she was hard to look at. The young Marine tried to summon his courage, but the poor fool didn’t have a drop of alcohol in his blood or a single other Marine to encourage his next mistake. He didn’t even know how things had progressed so fast. All he did was say hello, then she asked about Taekwondo and kickboxing and Brazilian Jujitsu, and the little bit of amateur fighting he’d done. And then she offered sex!

Rodriguez hadn’t done much thinking from that point onward.

The Octurian woman pressed her smooth, almost plasticy skin against his own as her lower, second set of stubby hands clawed at his abs, which seemed to send her mandibles into a frenzy. It took Rodriguez every bit of his strength not to push her off as the memory of their first terrifying kiss flashed in his mind. Mandibles and lips and fangs fighting for dominance, but the young Marine was determined not to screw things up. He was already halfway out of his jumpsuit and standing at attention. She was as naked as the day she was born. Or hatched. Or however, they did that.

And Jesus, lord, did her body look good.

And holy hell, am I ready to go! Rodriguez thought to himself.

I’m gonna do this. I’m gonna be the first man to bang an alien!

Rodriguez closed his eyes and thought of the two other women he’d been with. If he could do them, then surely, he could do it with the Octurian. She’d be an enormous step up, all things considered.

“So… How does this work?” the Marine asked. The four eyes of the alien woman watched Rodriguez as she pulled him closer. A jolt shot up his spine as he made contact with a surprisingly soft and warm something.

Her mandibles twitched and a chittering sound came out of her mouth, which the translator collar on her neck instantly converted to English.

“The same as it works with human females. Unless… You don’t want to.”

She pulled away, triggering the monkey part of Rodriguez’s brain that compelled him to procreate at all costs, despite the fear he felt at the sight of his partner’s face. His arms shot out to wrap around her and he offered a brave smile as her mandibles twitched some more.

“No, no, no. No. I can do this.”

“Colonel McTaggart, you have an urgent message from the Worthy Endeavor.”

Phil McTaggart groaned before opening his eyes.

Sleeping in zero-g was hard enough but trying to get a full six hours with two starships in orbit around Jupiter Station, fifteen other vessels in transit, a new refueling satellite under construction, and alien ambassadors visiting the Trojan Lagrange, it was just impossible. Phil missed the days when Jupiter Station was a sequestered, quiet place for people who directly interacted with alien species. The three-year minimum quarantine imposed on station occupants usually meant peace and quiet.

“Colonel McTaggart,” his computer repeated into the cool darkness of his cabin, “you have an urgent message—”

“I know. I know. Show me the message.”

Phil unzipped himself from his sleeping bag, rubbed his eyes and slapped his cheeks to wake up as he floated in the dim light of his work computer. On the screen Phil saw the stern face of a woman that he’d learned to associate with dumb problems, and so, he groaned again.

“Colonel McTaggart,” said the recording of the grim Captain Lewis, “We have a situation.”

Phil rolled his eyes and mentally bet himself the rest of his sleep that the situation in question involved three specific individuals.

“It’s the Space Marines, sir.”

Here we go.

“One of them has impregnated the Octurian Princess.”

Phill stood up.

Or rather, he tried. What the man actually did was extend his legs, slam off the deck, and bang his head into the overhead, both of which were covered in storage lockers and hurt like hell. On the screen, Captain Lewis continued.

“We detained the Marine in question and the Octurian guests have returned to their starship, but they are now demanding the Marine. Apparently, he initiated relations with the Princess, which, according to their cultural practices, makes him the new protector of her family. The Octurian …

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