“I’m a parasite.”

“A parasite?” The man stops the recording device. I note that he deletes the previous take and starts it over. Waving for me to continue.

“Y, yes. We are a bug-like species.”

“I can see that.”

I pause briefly at his tone, observing the strangers' reaction. I wonder if the bared teeth were one of amusement or hostility, it’s hard to tell with these mammals. Considering air left in a snicker I decide on amusement but anxiety still makes my wings shiver a bit. 

“Um yeah. Neither male nor female we are able to produce and fertilize eggs but not incubate them.” I wait, with only the sounds of a keypad being pressed on the see through screen in the man’s hands.  

“My kind is unable to afford missing a breeding opportunity, the loss of an egg is tragic.” My voice breaks… “I need to lay my eggs, and soon.”

The man pauses, “And for that you need a host.”

I nod.

“If a woman were to consent to that-”

“It does not need to be a woman.” I shift, getting used to having to clarify that.

The man seems shocked but quickly moves on.

“As I was saying, if someone were to consent to that there wouldn’t be a problem.”

I tilt my head a bit not used to the indifference. “Would you help me find someone?”

“No. I will continue to help you get more comfortable here and start the process of making you a resident. I suspect you know the basics of interacting with other alien species?”

“I know not to interact with other species if I can help it.” I lower my head. 

He watches my reaction. “Has your species considered machines that incubate? Technology has come a long way from the little sealed tin cans we shot into space a long time ago. Hell we’ve got-” 

“In emergencies.” I cut in embarrassed, “Survivor rates are lower.” I subconsciously touch my clutch of eggs snug and safe in my almost painfully full torso. “A living host is always more successful.”

“And how long does it take to hatch?” He mutters wind out of his sails writing the information down. 

I look around the sealed, dark room, “On my planet, 2-3 months so I'd estimate about 1 in generic.”

Standing he shuffles the papers together and gives me a piteous look from the condition I’m in. “I’m sorry about how the others of my kind treated you up till now but you have rights here. As long as you follow the rules you’ll be allowed to live and move around freely.”

I look down at my freshly wrapped wounds and then nod. 

“For your peace of mind I will have an incubator brought to your room.” He writes a note, “You may try to find a willing host but I better not get any complaints about you harassing anyone, someone tells you no, you leave it.” His tone becomes very scary and I nod quickly to show I understand. He stares for a second and then nods back satisfied.

I jump as the door swishes open and shrink as I’m outnumbered. Groveling isn’t something common for my species, it’s something I learned. Eyes wide with fear I flinch away as the armed men reach for me. 

“Gentle.” A softened voice causes my head to jerk up. A scientist-type of individual enters but stays far from me observing me with interest. 

“Would you come with me…please.” He says and I practically scramble around the table to get away from the guards, who, he seems to hold off with just his presence. 

I cower as I approach him, to look weak and nonthreatening I’m doubled over almost in half. I also make sure not to make direct eye contact. 

“Poor thing.” The scientist soothes, starting to reach out comfortingly but doesn’t seem to know where they can touch me. Quickly glancing down at my medical records to avoid an awkward interaction and possibly find the answer.

I take the opportunity to look over the human thoroughly, they have a work focused, calm, relaxed demeanor. If I stand at my full height I’d tower over them so I stay hunched face turned away and quick to flinch or winch submissively when he looks at me. 

“You’ve been through a lot.” He starts walking and encourages, “It’s fine to stand up all the way if you can, I’m not threatened by your height.”

My antennae twitch a little nervously as I reduce the drastic hunching. I see him eyeing one of my missing arms. 

“They did it to make me look more like them.” I say putting a hand over the area. “Said it made me easier to fuck.”

“How horrible.” He recoils. 

“They will grow back on my next molt.” I reassure. Expecting the usual ‘Oh that’s good.’ Or ‘I wish my limbs could grow back.’ 

But instead he responds in a very genuine tone. “It must have hurt.” 

It makes me stop and look at him, he seems not to notice the pause. ‘Yes. Yes it did hurt, the whole experience did.’ I think to myself getting emotional and have to force myself to refocus on the here and now.

He’s getting ahead so I hurry after him, arms wrapping around my torso instinctively protecting the eggs there. I’m in an unfamiliar environment around many, many different species not suitable as hosts and therefore I’d prefer to avoid completely. 

“How many sets of arms do you have?” He turns to see that I am getting overwhelmed.

“Two…sets.” I answer distracted at how nice he seems but humans and other aliens are quick to get out of his way, or maybe my way. I’m not sure. 

I’m led back to his lab with an emphasis on medical supplies and stand up taller.  Wings twitch, a little happier to be in a more comfortable environment. I walk around touching things carefully and observing the information on screens. I’m grateful that one of the translations is in Generic. 

I turn back offering an explanation, “I was studying in a lab just like this back on my planet.” I mess with something small enough to carry with me and sit on the bed as he gestures to it. “I had to learn about the reproduction process of so many mammals.” I watch his reaction carefully, “Humans were on that list.”

“Oh were we?” He smiles and even his eyes twinkle. Such strange intimidating eyes, everything relying on one small black focal point, not multiple. And the colors. I realize I’m staring, I shake my head, “I’m sorry, you are more colorful than most humans.”

He pauses and then lets out a disbelieving noise. “Am I?”

I focus my attention on the lab again but he seems to like the conversation, asking, “What did it say about us, not optimal for incubating?” Looks like he wanted to say more but changes his mind.

“I’m,” I shiver, “I’m not sure our records are accurate honestly.” I close my eyes as I remember being young and excited for my first egg batch, everything was going so well at first and then we were given our hosts. I’d gotten a smaller skinnier human and then was last minute switched out for a much, much larger one. I couldn’t have known how things would have gone so wrong and then gotten worse and worse.

“Hey it’s okay, you’re safe here.” The scientist soothes. I snap back to reality and realize I’ve been whimpering and holding myself. I look around and slowly unhunch, “If I find a host, this will be my first successful hatch.” I grip my insect-like arms, “I have to have this batch.”

“Why? Will your species do something to you if you don’t?” The way he asks it makes me unsure if he knew that could be insulting.

I shake my head no, “I want to go back home but I can’t until I have had at least one.”

“They won’t let you back?”

“They would...but I don’t want them to know how many I’ve failed to have until now, I’ll be chastised.”

The man makes a note mouthing, 'Feels shame.' “Chastised?” His eyes are so sharp, I feel myself struggling not to look away.

“We’re food for other aliens, our numbers are dwindling, we, we've created a program calculating how many eggs we’d need to hatch to get to a point where there is still enough genetic diversity that we don’t have to worry about going extinct.”

He's nodding along and at the word extinct he looks more serious. “I should probably add you to the endangered species list.” He makes another note on my chart.

“So you’re currently carrying?”

I nod.

“Am I able to check on the well-being of your..? Brood?”

I remember a flash of how the last batch of humans treated me when I was carrying eggs and flinch away from him. Lifting a leg protectively as I sit up, "No!" I snap my mandibles for emphasis. Then as his eyebrows go up cower a bit. "I mean it's fine as long as you are careful," I look down exhausted, "Just please don’t touch my stomach, they're easily damaged.”

“I won’t then.” He soothes and makes another note. “I’m not going to touch your stomach,” he says again, “Can I touch your arm?”

I’m confused but offer it and he observes the regrowing spikes along it. 

“Are these for self-defence? Are there any toxins I should worry about?”

I just shake my head, no, lost in thoughts of desperation. He ended by gently holding my humanoid hand, more like a paw really. He seems facinated by my tarsal pads. “Gently grip my hand,” he asks and I do. “Now slowly increase your grip until I tell you to stop.”

I’m hesitant but listen until he winces a bit, “That’s enough,” He writes something down, “Around how much strength do you think you were using?”

I flush, “All of it but I think I’m supposed to be stronger, I’m still recovering.”

“I’ll need you to be careful with your strength around a majority of the creatures here then.”

I nod eager to please him unconsciously hunching again. He observes me out of the side of his eye. “You don’t need to hunch.”

“I learned it pleased your species.” I observe expecting a smile and affirmation.

Again the mammal bears their teeth. Something about it feels hostile and so I duck harder. He looks like he immediately regrets it, covering his face with a sigh, “Sorry that was a sneer. I'm just going to say no one from my species needs you to bow and grovel, if they're actually confident. You're tall and quite strong, probably stronger than most humans once fully healed. Whoever did was insecure they only forced you to, to make themselves feel bigger.”

I tilt my head confused, “I know they made me smaller to feel more comfortable.” I touch the nub of my upper left arm, rubbing it remembering that they were in fact, very strong. 

He looks at me but presses his lips together to prevent saying anything else. 'Again,' I note. 

So I look over at the equipment. Are you going to use your technology to check on my eggs?

“If it’s safe I would like to, yes.”

I nod. 

“I…I was angry at my species, not you,” The scientist says as he smears some liquid over my stomach and then up my torso, as I advise, then puts a large arching machine over me. It moves up and down and “prints” an image on the screen. I look at all the eggs. Anxiety causing my mandibles to shiver looking for damage or cracks. 

“They’re very cramped,” I worry, voice shaking. I move the machine to get up and point, “Normally we don’t produce this much but I must have…I must not have had enough nutrients to produce the full amount the last few times.” I turn to the scientist. “Please,” I put all my emotion into the begging, “If I can get them all to hatch I won't be too ashamed to return to my kind. They may even,” my voice cut out. 

‘They would ask why I was still dozens short.' I sink down and cry, the human seems interested in the familiar action. Familiar but alien. 

“I wonder if I could help you produce more eggs each time.” He muses up at the screen. “To catch you up to how much you were supposed to produce by now.”

My body doesn’t react at first I lower my hands and look up at him disbelievingly.

He continues, “I’d like to know if your species has a set amount or if we can add to the numbers. If it’s a set amount you’ll stop producing eggs sooner.” He seems to notice my shock. 

“But…what about my host?”

“Oh I can probably find you a few, you definitely shouldn’t try shoving one alien full of that many-”

I grab at the human but quickly remember myself and clench my padded hands together, “You can?! But the other human made it seem like it’d be difficult.” 

The human smirks, “At least for my species but this is actually a kink- ahem an experience some really want, if only humans were compatible incubators-”

“But our records say…”

“It’s okay,” he dismisses and turns to the computer. “I’ll put out a job offer for some hosts and…” he looks back, flashing a practiced embarrassed look which I don’t believe for a second. Before returning to business, “I’ll need to see your breeding apparatus, I’m assuming you’ll be inserting it inside the hosts...”, he motions to his mouth, “Or?”

I look down and wonder if I can bring it out without losing control, “I can describe it to you but with how broody I am I’m worried I won’t be able to put it away, uhm, jobs? What do you mean?”

I think about the way credits work, “I don’t have any money, and in this condition I’m afraid of doing anything strenuous.”

“I’m paying you for adding to our database.” He says deadpan then catching himself makes eye contact then smiles, without teeth which I appreciate. 

“Really.” My eyes widen, “but I’m not “doing” anything.” 

Suddenly I freeze up. What if they expect me to, to do “that”. I shiver uncomfortably. Can I suffer through it again for my eggs?

“Nonsense, information is valuable.” He points at the notes. “The more you can tell us about your species and the more tests you let me run on you, er, join in or agree to, the more money you’ll earn.”

I blink almost disbelievingly. “It’s the only way so I have to agree.” I say defeated lowering my head and curling up. 

He opens and closes his mouth. “Of course you have a choice.”

“Not if I want my eggs to have hosts,” I look up, “and I need to, you don’t understand. It hurts to lose just one.” I try not to start panicking but my bloods racing.

“Alright lets keep calm, I’m…sorry you are in this situation. I will make sure the tests aren’t distressing.” He looks around mumbling, “Probably shouldn’t take blood but there’s still plenty of non-invasive.”

“It’s okay.” I resolve to do this, anything, it’s not like I haven’t suffered before. “I will do anything I need to do. I’ve already been invaded before.”

He makes a face I don’t understand and then surprises me by pressing, “I’m not sure you understand…what do you think I’m asking of you?”

I wrap my insect-like arms around myself, “Everything, it’s fine.”

He starts to respond but someone knocks. I feel my attenae twitch and then freeze as a larger furrier alien approaches the scientist, “Can I have a refill of the, oh you’re with someone else.”

I make myself smaller as I watch the teeth flashing.

The scientist notes my discomfort. “The door said do not disturb, I’ve got a pretty sensitive client here.”

“Really?” The furry alien asks and to my horror approaches to look. The scientist sputters and then very angrily puts himself between me and the predator, “Get. Out. Now!” 

But it’s too late it sees me and even worse recognizes what I am.