Page 16 of Stripped By the Alien

The question lingers while I consider it. "No. Force would waste valuable opportunities."

Sris remains thoughtful. "Her world may possess immense resources."

"It does appear that way."

"The information could be worth more than the female herself. So much more, in fact, that it would reduce her wellbeing to complete insignificance."

I look down at the suit fragment resting in my hands. The statement is difficult to dismiss. If our assumptions are correct, the location of her homeworld could alter the course of my Brood and Swarm.

"Fortunately," I reply as I set the fragment aside, "we don’t have to choose between learning from her and preserving her goodwill."

The female watches every movement from the resting platform, her attention going back and forth whenever either of us moves. She clearly understands that the discussion concerns her, even if she cannot understand the words themselves.

For a time, the only sounds come from the Beast and the occasional click of Sris's claws against the table. Then she raises one claw thoughtfully. "If obtaining information is the objective, I have a question."

I already dislike the tone. Experience has taught me that Sris only sounds this reasonable when she is preparing to become troublesome. "I’m not surprised."

She gestures toward the female. "Why is she here?"

My gaze follows the motion. The female immediately tightens her grip on the fabric wrapped around her body. Her suspicion has become remarkably consistent. Every time I look at her, she behaves as though I am moments away from doing something alarming. Perhaps that assumption is understandable.

"Because she requires observation," I say.

"There are observation chambers."

"Those are designed for dangerous specimens."

Sris turns one eye toward me. "Are you suggesting she is not dangerous?"

I think back to the minefield, the ruined vessel, and the determination she displayed even while approaching death. Most creatures would have abandoned hope long before reaching that point. The female appears to regard surrender as an offensive concept. "I don’t think the word ‘dangerous’ quite describes her," I reply.

Sris's antennae twitch. "Then there are guest chambers."

I set down a section of damaged suit plating and straighten. "Guest chambers are used for guests."

"An excellent point! Which raises a new question." Sris climbs down from the table and begins circling a damaged section of the alien vessel. "If she is neither a dangerous specimen nor a guest, then what exactly is she?"

"She is a unique discovery," I say. "The first representative of an unknown civilization. Communication attempts will require consistency, and familiar surroundings may encourage cooperation."

Sris stops beside the damaged machinery and studies me. "In what sense would you say that your private quarters are familiar surroundings to this alien?"

“Certainly this place is better than a cell,” I explain. “It’s lived in, it’s cozy. It’s well decorated.” I point to the trophies on the wall. “She’ll know to appreciate it.”

I begin arranging several fragments of the suit into their original configuration. The process occupies my hands without requiring much thought.

"Will you be reporting the discovery immediately?" Sris asks.

I don't answer at once. The question has been approaching since the moment I lifted the female from her wrecked vessel. The procedure is clear. An unknown civilization beyond that difficult minefield is precisely the sort of discovery that should move rapidly to the Queen. Harrowers have advanced entire careers on much less significant findings.

Sris notices my hesitation. "Chief Harrower?"

I set aside the final piece of damaged equipment and straighten slowly. Through the transparent section of the chamber, stars drift past in silent brilliance. Somewhere beyond that darkness lies the place the female came from. A populated planet. Resources, industry, and opportunity on a scale that is still impossible to estimate.

It could make our Queen the greatest of them all. It could elevate our whole Brood to strip such a target and leave it a blackened, smoking husk in the best tradition.

She could make me a Royal Mate!

"Her Majesty will be informed," I say.