Page 47 of My Big Fat Fake Alien

I bite my lip to keep from smiling. The remote in his hand is just for the car's sound system - I recognize it from our drives together. But the Grolgath don't know that.

The reptilian soldiers exchange glances, their scaled faces uncertain. A few take tentative steps forward.

Karc brandishes the remote. "Not one step closer, or we all go to meet our respective gods."

The Grolgath freeze, their weapons wavering. One of them hisses something in their native tongue that makes the others back away slightly.

The click of boots on metal draws my attention to a familiar figure striding across the hangar. Giscard. He's in his human form, immaculate in a tailored suit despite the late hour.

"What seems to be the situation here?" Giscard asks, his voice smooth as silk.

Karc waves the remote. "One press and this whole ship goes up in flames."

Giscard's lips curl into an amused smile. "Go ahead then." His eyes lock with Karc's. "I'm calling your bluff."

My stomach drops as Giscard turns to his soldiers. "If he tries to leave the vehicle, shoot the woman."

The ship reeks of sterile air and something faintly metallic, like blood that’s just started to rust. My wedding dress is a lost cause, the white fabric smudged with grease and what I hope isn’t Grolgath spit. Karc sits beside me, his golden scales flickering faintly under the ship’s harsh lighting. His eyes—those sunset orange eyes—are scanning the room like he’s already planning how to take this place apart.

The walls shudder as the ship docks with the space station, and the hatch hisses open. Giscard steps through, still in his human facade, that smug smile plastered on his face.“Welcome,” he says, sweeping his arm toward the station’s interior.

I step out, and my breath catches. The station is... insane. On one side, it’s a jagged, cratered asteroid, like something ripped straight out of a sci-fi movie. But the other side—holy hell. It’s a city, sleek and glowing under a translucent dome. Buildings rise like crystal spires, their surfaces shimmering with iridescent light. The streets are alive with movement—Grolgath in their true forms, their scales catching the light in a kaleidoscope of colors.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Giscard says, his voice dripping with pride. “All for the glory of Ataxia.”

I can’t help it. I laugh. “Glory? You’re planning to wipe out billions of people, and you’re calling it glory?”

“They won’t die,” he says, like he’s explaining basic math to a child. “They’ll be reborn. As Grolgath. It’s a gift.”

“A gift?” I snap. “Who the hell are you to decide who lives, dies, or gets scaly? Your god’s got some serious issues if this is his idea of a favor.”

Karc steps forward, his claws flexing at his sides. “How are you planning to do it?”

Giscard’s smile widens. “Patience, my dear Kirk. Soon, you’ll see for yourself.” He gestures for us to follow, and we’re ushered down a gleaming corridor.

I lean closer to Karc, keeping my voice low. “You think he’s actually going to show us the big bad weapon?”

“Doubtful,” Karc murmurs, his eyes still scanning every detail. “But he’ll let something slip. Arrogance always does.”

“Great. So we’re blindfolded on a spaceship, and the only plan is ‘watch the bad guy monologue.’ Super reassuring.”

His lips twitch, the closest thing to a smile I’ve seen from him in hours. “Trust me. I’ll get us out of this.”

“Trust you?” I mutter. “You tossed a guy out of a flying car. I’m not sure ‘trust’ is the right word.”

He glances at me, his gaze softening for a split second. “You came back, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, well, don’t let it go to your head.”

Giscard stops at a massive window overlooking the city. He spreads his arms like he’s about to sing an aria. “This is the future, my friends. A new dawn for the galaxy.”

I cross my arms, raising an eyebrow. “You sure about that? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like a really expensive death trap.”

Karc steps closer to the window, his reflection rippling in the glass. “You’re not the first to try this, Giscard. And you won’t be the last to fail.”

Giscard chuckles, a low, dangerous sound. “We’ll see.”

The floor beneath us hums faintly, and I can’t shake the feeling that we’re running out of time.

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