Someday My Alien Mantodean Prince Will Come

On a chilly day in the middle of term, Carmela Rodriguez, student in Xenolingual Steganography, is sprawled on the bed in her room, watching her friend and room-mate Hark'll gesticulate with all zir polite appendages in a way that makes it quite clear that the A'Kthari has had enough.

"And worse, my hemini decided that the old tradition of sibileth should be maintained, and publically announced it at the kuangi! Publically!"

"Lots of people?"

"Hundreds of thousands, including half the lsewwi of the empire." Hark'll says and flumps down in zir 'hammock'. Somehow, all zir appendages find a place to rest, and zir tail curls up and tucks between zir third and fourth legs, the tip flicking in annoyance.

Carmela understands the annoyance. She'd be pissed if her Papi – or, more likely, Kit – announced that anyone who wanted to romance her had to carry her off in a raid in the middle of the night. "Well, at least you're out here and not back home."

"That won't stop them," Hark'll mutters. "Just you wait. It'll be all over campus by tomorrow, and I won't get a decent night's sleep... Ugh. I bet things aren't as awful for you."

"Not even close." Carmela sits up as she realises something. "Wait, you mean to say that the raids - the sibileth – are going to start, here? From tonight?"

"Or whenever the first lsewwi decides to drag his asther along." Hark'll gives her a rueful look and zir tail flicks irritably. "It could be tonight, it could be next week, it could be the night before exams."

"But they'll just...turn up?" Not that Carmela's especially studious – but she does prefer getting a full night's sleep, and strange lsewwi climbing in the window—

"You'll actually have to marry whoever pulls this off?"

"Well, not immediately," Hark'll waves a couple of appendages in the air. "Once I finish my studies. But I'd have to partner eventually, and I don't really have any preferences. But I've been telling my hemini that we needed to bring the A'Kthari forward into the fifteenth aeon, instead of dragging ourselves back to traditions that date back to the third aeon! I thought he was listening!"

Carmela's met Hark'll's hemini atthe last open day and...well, 'old fashioned' isn't the worst of it.

Still, there's more than one way to change parental expectations. After all, she made it out here, didn't she?

"Carmela?" Hark'll is watching her through those lovely, opaque A'Kthari eyes.

"Hmm?"

"I know that look."

"What look?"

Her roomie's bark of laughter fills the room. "Oh, Powers, 'Mela! Please don't start a war! I'd like to come back here next year, you know."

"Oh, I won't start a war," Carmela says cheerfully. "Although they might."

Mind you, when it comes to the crunch, Carmela is no more pleased to be tumbled out of the sheet and onto the lumpy deck than her captor is to discover ze grabbed the wrong room-mate entirely.

"Who are you?"

"Oh, my god," she groans as she sheds the 'prosthetics' that deceived the sibileth party and drags herself up on the uneven floor. Some of those lumps are sharp. "Surely it'd be easier for you guys to have flat floors – even if you've got six legs to stand on?"

Her arm is caught up in a clawed grip – not punishingly hard, but certainly uncomfortable. "I asked you a question, thaki!"

"And I asked you one back, sheka," she retorts, looking up into the face of the A'Kthari lsewwi. Unlike Hark'll's opaline gaze, zir's eyes are a rich, deep blue – and, if the shape is any indication, studying her with some surprise at her fluency in A'Kthari insults.

When she pulls at her arm, ze lets her go and she draws herself up, ignoring the other A'Kthari around them – his asther. Most are gaping at the oddity in their midst, but one or two are starting to look worried – their tails have curled up tight, a sure sign of A'Kthari anxiety.

"My name is Carmela Rodriguez, and I am informing you that you're in direct violation of the Buthidi Treatise Zeph-Cobin-Welv, Section Volf, Paragraph Tiba, Instructional Fort: No A'Kthari shall detain or limit the freedom of any student at the Buthidi Endeavourence—"

"Oh, Powers," someone mutters.

"—With the exception of another A'Kthari, and only then under the laws and treatises of the Halar and the Athi."

The lsewwi is staring at her in what she gathers is disbelief – the deep blue shimmering with faint opalescent colours. Around ze, it's all tight and curly tails now, but the lsewwi is made from sterner stuff – zir tail swings from side to side – A'Kthari consideration.

"You memorised the treatise?"

"Well, yeah. It was one of my first assignments at the Endeavourence."

"And you arranged this?"

"Two for two."

"And Hark'll k'Norv'll k'Plen'll k'Shmonz'll went along with this? And is doubtless informing the authorities as we speak? No," ze holds up an appendage like a finger in the air. "Hark'll k'Norv'll will be waiting for your safe return."

"Well, we didn't organise all this just so we could jump out and yell 'Bazinga!'"

The tip of the tail starts flicking in annoyance, but before ze can come back with a retort, another A'Kthari clatters up to the sibileth party. Gapes at Carmela. Recovers himself. "Uh, Lsewwi Tov'un—"

"Let me guess," Tov'un remarks, tilting zir head in a thoughtful way as zir tail returns to the steady, thoughtful swish. "Contact from Hark'll k'Norv'll k'Plen'll k'Shmonz'll down on the Buthidi surface demanding the return of zir friend, Carmela Rodriguez?"

"Uh, yes, Lsewwi Tov'un."

"And this will be Hark'll k'Norv'll's bargaining chip against zir hemini – that we've broken the treaty and if we don't stop the sibileth, zir will report the A'Kthari, at which point the interdictions will come into play?"

Carmela grins. "You know, you're not as dumb as you look."

"So do you usually get kidnapped by alien princes at uni?" Matt Renwick asks, leaning back against the seat cushions with his elbow on the top of the backrest and one hand scratching through his short, blond hair.

Down and across the table Kit snorts. "Not often enough for my liking!"

They're in The Cephalopod's Revenge – a bar in the middle of Crossings, and one of Carmela's favourite places to hang out with her friends. Today, the group is comprised entirely of humans from Earth – Carmela, Kit and Nita, the still dark, broody, and gorgeous Ronan Nolan, and Matt, who's been working with Ronan on something out by the Katahn empire.

Filif thought he might have time to visit, but sent a message apologising for a delay, and Sker'ret has been finessing gate problems over in the Intergalactic extension and was last traced over at the Andromeda galaxy's equivalent of Rirhath B's Crossings Terminal.

Carmela regards her no-longer-quite-so-little brother with her best look of silent disdain. Then she turns and smiles at Matt – incidentally including Ronan on the edges of it. "The lsewwi aren't actually princes. They're more...warlords. Like the Trovanian sarthanalk but with less responsibility and smaller land units."

"Right," says Matt in his laconic Australian accent. "Basically...alien royalty."

"Which reminds me." Kit sits up. "Didn't we have a conversation about this years ago? When you were grenfelzing with every second alien you were chatting with – or was it emofozzing?"

Carmela rolls her eyes. "Six legs, oxygen-breathing, insectoid. And ze didn't have a battle fleet, just zir asther."

"Do we want to know what an asther is?" Nita asks, nibbling on a pastry-like delicacy.

"I don't. And if ze doesn't have a gender then how—" Kit held up his hand. "No, don't tell me. I don't want to know."

Nita has to cover her mouth against a flurry of crumb-like things as she laughs with her mouth full. "If you don't want to know, why did you ask?"

"The sibileth sounds like a cattle raiding party."

"Except that I'm not—" Too late, Carmela realises she walked into that one. Kit snickers and then yelps as she kicks him under the table. "I'll get you for that, Mr. Nolan."

Ronan grins and drinks his elaaie – Rirhathian beer.

Matt, meanwhile, has tilted his head thoughtfully at Kit. "Hey, wasn't there something about you being kidnapped by an alien princess a couple of years back? Does this run in the family, then?"

Nita chokes – this time so hard that Matt pulls out a medical wizardry to clear her throat, and when it seems she's out of the woods, there are tears in her eyes.

"Helena," she gasps after drinking down Kit's blue drink and Ronan's elaaie. "Running in the family!"

Carmela catches her brother's eye, sees the gleaming thought of Helena being kidnapped by alien royalty that matches her own, and grins.

fin