The Golden Spoon by Jessa Maxwell

Floating through the vacuum of space wasn’t Tejeda’s thing. Not knowing which way was up or down made him want to puke his guts out. But he couldn’t. Not in that spacesuit. That would have meant staying in his own puke indefinitely. The image made him want to vomit even harder.

What was the point anyway? Weeks, months, or even years could pass till a spaceship would drop out of hyperspace in this god-forsaken part of the universe. It would have been best to take out his helmet and breathe in the void. But the cold touch of the spoon that hung on his neck strengthened him. Tejeda’s resolve was mightier than ever. He wasn’t about to let his poor lovely Carmen float in space forever.

The Nubilae slowed down his breathing to preserve the oxygen and entered a peaceful state of meditation. His plan to pass as a human hadn’t worked out too well for him and led him into this predicament. Tejeda sighed. He should have known better than that and not mess around with his prey.

The contemplation of previous events was abruptly interrupted by a ragged ship that passed by at impulse speed. A beam of light caught him in its gentle embrace, moving him towards the ship’s hangar bay. Tejeda came close enough to observe that numerous patches covered the vessel's exterior. It had more stitches than he got after his body was almost torn apart in his fight with the Alpha Pirates.

Once he reached the entrance to the hangar bay, the beam dropped him from two meters above the floor. The familiar feeling of gravity was a delight. As a result, Tejeda overlooked the little back pain produced by the fall. This would not have been an issue if he had been in his normal form, since he didn't have a spine to maintain. Humans were such fragile beings!

The Nubilae took off his helmet and took in the air from the ship. It was better than the one from his spacesuit’s tank, but it had a horrid taste of mold. Was that what glued this ship’s pieces together and kept it running?

When he shifted on his side to get up, Tejeda glimpsed a pair of black boots. As he slowly raised his head, a woman’s figure came into view. Her bodily shape was flawless even beneath the ragged grey uniform. Several thoughts raced through Tejeda's mind, most of which revolved around the physiological differences between males and females.

‘Maybe next time, I will try to turn into a woman. That would be interesting.’ As this idea rooted in Tejeda’s brain, a dumb smile appeared on his face.

"Get up, scumbag!" The woman’s voice was rough and showed she was accustomed to giving orders.

Two other men dressed in similar grey uniforms helped him get up and out of his spacesuit. The woman measured Tejeda from top to bottom with a disinterested look. He was tall and a bit muscular, his shoulders broader than those of the men next to him. Was that a good thing? Was he handsome? Tejeda never understood the standards of human females.

"I am Shayla, and I am the second in charge of this ship," the woman introduced herself. "Who are you?"

"Tejeda." He gave her a plain, simple answer. If she wanted more details, she would have to ask.