We Cum In Peace

Heads up, some mention of dysphoria, a little touch of corruption but everything's mostly above board.

*****************************

Of all the planets to crash into, why did it have to be one with all the giants?

It wasn't the first time Trixi had asked herself that question. From her position concealed in a forested ridgeline, she could look down upon an apparent marshaling yard for this world's primary intelligent life form. As she scoped the flat basaltic expanse beneath her, the hairless goliaths ambled in and out of their smog-belching ground vehicles. Staggered groups traipsed towards a rectangular colossus, where they entered a series of automatic sliding doors. It looked for all the worlds like they were being chewed and swallowed by a great polyhedral monster.

Her translator program ran the name of the building, and she shook her head in disbelief. What were all these people so scared of that they all needed to purchase 'Walls' at the same time?

A crashing sound startled her out of her observations, followed by the baying of loud, carnivorous beasts. She had to get moving. Trixi scootched out from her observation post and pushed through the dense undergrowth, the little brambles snagging on then snapping as they failed to dig into her skin-tight flight suit. Normally airtight and climate controlled, she'd already reconfigured to hostile environment survival mode. As she moved, the light sensitive panels fed details from one side of her body to the other, mimicking the processions of trees and branches in a form of active camouflage. Unfortunately, her helmet had cracked open in the crash, so Trixi had left it behind. It was a good thing her skin was a similar shade of green to the foliage.

As she made her way deeper into the thicket, she keyed the audio recording feature on her wrist-top comm unit. Without an ansible to transmit it, it would have to go at the speed of light. She might as well throw a message into the air and hope it got to ARC command. Pushing away the doubts, she continued her log. If someone found her one day, there ought to be a record. If only for historical purposes.

"Log 3. This is Trixi tee Niribubble, Pilot of the Autonomous Research Collective ship Gribbler, recording again for posterity and in the case of my capture and/or consumption by the inhabitants of this planet. It has been several local days, and at least a month of real days, since my ship crashlanded. I am hoping that my ship's emergency beacon went off in time, but as time passes, I begin to worry."

As she followed a dirt path lined with glass bottles and other detritus, she continued. "As I feared in my last log, the locals have seized the crash site. Though primitive, even these lumbering giants couldn't miss the hail of flaming debris. All I could retrieve was my survival kit and my Q-Ray." She patted the holstered weapon at her side, the heavy deutronium casing a reassuring weight rather than a burdensome one.

Her path came to a wilted metal fence. Not wanting to risk leaving evidence behind, she decided to scale it rather than try to cut through. Sturdy legs and arms carried her up and over, landing on the other side with an exhale of effort. Gravity was a lot less than what she was used to, but it wasn't minimal. That kind of stunt could have broken a bone back on Gob Prime.

A discordant buzz from her wrist interrupted her train of thought. The log recording automatically paused, and ultrared text scrolled right to left on the small screen.

"WARNING: Nutrient Deprivation Detected. Augment protein reserves with survival supplements."

Trixi grumbled. She hated the taste of emergency supplements. But without the right balance of nutrients, her health would be compromised and getting back to civilized space would be near to impossible. She opened the container on her suit's thigh compartment and reached in without looking. To her dread, her hand came up a sticky mess.

"Froogle," she spat, this time visually inspecting the pouch. It contained several thin disks, each with a hyper concentrated variety of nutrients her body could need. Over half of them had been split open, their contents rapidly oxidizing and rendered useless. "Double Froogle." It would be all over if she didn't get protein into her system. She could already feel the light-headedness coming on! Or so she thought. A part of her mind thought it might be a placebo type effect, but indecisiveness was also a symptom of protein deprivation!

She punched up her suit's scanning system and put it to work snooping for signs of a compatible nutrient source. Though both her and the locals were carbon based, they only shared a percentage of amino acids. Finding the specific combination she needed might be difficult, if not impossible.

The heavy percussive thrumming of a rotary aircraft's blades jolted her out of her mental tangent. They were still pursuing her. If she didn't find a place to hide, fast, getting a balanced diet would be the least of her worries! On her inner thigh, she pulled out a trio of spheres and tossed them to the ground. They unfolded into a shape similar to the red cicadas of her homeworld. With a quick tap of her wristtop's controls, she accessed a jammer macro. The trio issued a beep of confirmation each, then flew off in different directions. There they would blanket the area in electromagnetic noise, hiding her presence from any of the primitive systems these giants favoured. They'd also take time to self-replicate, making the system only more resilient over time. Now all she had to worry about was being visually detected. It would be very embarrassing to have all this technology, only to get shot by a chemical propellant weapon.

She hurried along down the path, seeing the thick vegetation become more sparse and replaced by the walls of small, isolated domiciles. Her scanner click-click-clicked its way through a half-dozen of the isolated houses, each bordered in patches of useless carpet plants. Each had at least one humanoid life sign. She'd nearly given up hope when, at last, she stumbled onto the edge of a curved street and detected an empty house.

Sanctuary. Perhaps.

After a moment's hesitation, she left the protective cover of the treeline and snuck across the green stubble yard to flatten herself against the back wall. The door leading inward was locked, but it was merely a mechanical deadbolt. A single pulse from her suit finger's magna-key and the deadbolt flipped open, letting her slip inside. Once the door was closed, she pressed her back to it and let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. She was safe...or something close to it.

With detainment momentarily postponed, her new priority had to be obtaining the nutrients she needed. The house had a food preparation alcove, so she switched her scanner to search for the specific assemblage of amino acids her physiology required. At first she was careful, pulling open cabinets gently, then sweeping her wrist over each item in turn, listening for a beep of acknowledgement. By the time she got to the harder to reach stuff, she was becoming frantic. Jumping up on the countertop she yanked the last visible cupboard nearly off its hinges, spilling contents out with an errant hand.

"Carbohydrates, starches...animal pieces?! Don't these big blargs eat anything nutritious?!" The closest thing she found was a half filled tin of salted legumes encased in a fragile shell. She emptied the whole container into her mouth. It helped, but it was far more appetizer than main course. There had to be something in this domicile worth eating...

***

Raven fumbled with her keys and watched with resignation as they slipped from her hand and landed on her welcome mat; a cherry on top of the terrible day she'd had.

"Dipshit boss, cancelled weekend plans, prescription bullshit...what else could go wrong?"

She retrieved her keys and unlocked the door, leaning into it to push her way inside. There was an old mirror to the closet next to the entrance, but it'd been years since she'd used it. Raven knew exactly what it contained. Too tall, too much shoulder, too square a jaw. Black hair grown long to cover a great many uncomfortable realities, though it couldn't hide all of them. She'd been taking E for close to six months now and, while emotionally she'd never felt better, physically she still had the body of that depressed young man she'd always loathed. Locked into her disrobing ritual, she didn't see the scattered debris from the kitchen until she'd dropped her rumpled work shirt on a can of tomato sauce lying on its side.

"What the..." Her eyes slid along a trail of food packages that led around the corner into her kitchen. The shadow cast by the overhead fluorescents was too indistinct to source, but the grumbling and incoherent noises made it clear it wasn't some trick of the light. Her mind leapt from possibility to possibility as a cold chill ran up her spine. Had a raccoon gotten in? A creeper with a knife? A raccoon with a knife?!

She picked up the can of tomato sauce, tossing it once to check the weight. Whatever this was, it wouldn't like 700 grams of italian ketchup in the noggin. Steeling her nerve, she leapt around the corner, reeled back with the can, and screamed.

"What the fuck?!"

Standing on a chair and rifling through her fridge was a feminine form who, despite only being around 3 foot tall, had some of the largest breasts that Raven had ever seen in person. A skintight bodysleeve left very little to the imagination, covering all but her head. There, two pointy ears perked out like old television antennae. Hair the colour of an electric orange contrasted harshly with her dark green skin. The being turned to face Raven, screamed, then reached for something on her belt. A gun!

Raven was quicker. She hucked the tomato sauce can with all the verve of a pitcher trying to bean the guy who was fucking his wife. The alien yanked up her weapon and discharged it from the hip. In what seemed like slow motion, a bolt of green lightning intercepted the can, made it glow, then exploded it. Tomato sauce splattered outwards in all directions, coating her entire kitchen in a fine red mist. Raven stood stock still, partially covered in tomato sauce, unsure as to what to do now. The small creature kept her gun levelled, but started playing with a device mounted on the hand that held the weapon. It whined at the effort of some kind of new task.

The green lady said something, but it wasn't intelligible. Raven tried to reply, but was cut off by another burst of adjustments to her wrist computer. This time, she was sure she could make out some words.

"You...understand...voice?" the shortie asked in a perfectly regionless newscaster accent.

"I...sorta do."

The creature nodded. "Good. Now hands up in the air, giant!" She pointed the weapon, something that looked like a cross between a 1950s raygun and a water pistol. Despite its goofy design, the splattered tomato bits everywhere testified that it was the real deal. Raven's hands shot up over her head.

"What do you want? I don't have a lot of money, despite what the house might imply. You see, my parents-"

"Quiet, biglegs! I don't want your pathetic national scrip. I need..." Her sentence ended in an untranslated word. She cursed, checked her wrist screen again. Meanwhile, something else on her suit beeped. Her eyebrows raised.

"Is that a bomb?" Raven asked, backing away.

"Hold right there!" the tiny woman demanded. She held out her arm, and the beeping got louder. She took a step. Louder. She got close enough to touch. Louder. She lifted it up and it got quieter, then went off the chart when it levelled directly at Raven's waist.

"Uhh...what are you doing?"

"You...make..." The untranslated word followed again, but she remained undeterred. "You make food? Nutrient?"

"You want me to cook something?" Raven asked, much to the little lady's chagrin. She went to work on her screen for a while. When her attention returned, a screen projection of what looked like a movie followed. But by the state of undress of the participants, it wasn't something she'd be seeing at the local theatre. A trans woman was in the process of being orally pleasured by another woman, her cock glistening evidence of a much longer session that had already occurred. Then, with a squeal of excitement, tiny squirts of girlcum painted the pretty face of her partner.

"You make?" the perverted gremlin asked, and despite blushing hotly at some stranger showing her porn, Raven finally understood what she was asking.

"First of all, very rude." She folded her arms. "I just found you rummaging around in my house, and now you're asking me to...no, no way, too far. I don't know where you think you are, but I'm not doing jack. You're just gonna have to shoot me."

For a second, it looked like she might be considering that option. But instead she sighed, holstered the raygun, and cleared her throat. "Apologies. Maybe started on the wrong thruster. My name is Trixi, and I am...was...the Captain of a space vessel. You see, your planet is not the only one in the universe-"

"So you're an alien, okay, fine," Raven said, then caught herself by how casually she took that revelation. "Huh. Yeah, I guess that's fine. Barring this being the most realistic hallucination of my life, that'll have to do. And if I was stuck in a coma dream, I would have bigger problems than an intruder in my brain-kitchen. My name's Raven, by the way."

"Oh! You've met other non-Earthers before?"

"No, I'm just a big nerd." She left the kitchen to grab some towels, tossing one to the alien. Cleaning up the tomato-y mess, or at least most of it. "So you crashlanded, fine. Why are you in my house?"

Trixi didn't answer right away. Instead, she typed in a little control panel on her wrist with her other hand. In moments, a floating image appeared, projected by little nodes in her suit. It was a wireframe map of the local neighbourhood, and judging by the movement of the little cars on the street, it wasn't just a still image. This presupposition was confirmed when a helicopter swooped into existence on the far left of the map. It paused, adjusted, then took off toward the north. Rather than a news chopper, this one looked military. Raven heard the dull, distant hum of propeller blades, adding credence to this being a live image.

"I crashlanded several planetary rotations ago on the outskirts of this village," Trixi began. "Although I come in peace, it seems your local government institutions do not believe this. They are scouring the area with their primitive scanners. I have my sensor bugs jamming the neighbourhood, but I cannot become invisible. Not without my helmet, anyway. So I needed a place to hide out for a while, and this house had no current occupant when I entered."

Raven's mouth quirked to the side. As much as she wanted to be mad about the whole thing, it wasn't like she was about to turn the poor creature over to the feds for dissection.

"Okay, that's understandable. And you're welcome to stay as long as you want. I got a couch. But why is it that you want to...erm..." She punctuated the statement with a gesture implying a blowjob.

"What? Oh! Hold on, I have a graph," Trixi said, tapping away at her wristtop's keys.

"Well, now I'm really turned on."

The projected image transmogrified into a simple pie graph. Bite sized slices appeared in various colours, sectioning off 2% here or 3% there. The vast majority, almost exactly 70% but not quite, was taken up by an ivory colour.

"My species, the proud and noble Gobblers, has certain dietary requirements to retain our faculties. Without it, we descend into atavistic, senseless behaviour. The majority of the nutrients we need," she said, poking the air where the off-white slice loomed, "Are an almost identical match for the biological material some of your species releases during mating rituals.

Raven blinked. "You mean semen? You can't be serious. That makes you, what, some kind of cum gobblers from outer space?"

Trixi closed the graph display. "Well when you put it that way it sounds ridiculous, but yes. If I don't get enough protein to survive, I will lose any chance I have of getting rescued by my people. But it needn't be an entirely selfless act on your part. I have access to a full emergency medical nanoprogrammer in my suit. Tell me something that bothers you about your body and I can fix it."

A spark of excitement, and suddenly Raven's heart was beating faster. This alien did seem to have some advanced technology with her...could she help? "Umm...well, there's a lot I don't like about my body. But I guess a lot of it stems from, well, I transitioned later on in life and-"

"Trans...oh! We have that too, though the easy of cloning and body modification makes it less of an issue. Perhaps I can help." The strange woman ran her hand over the lower half of Raven's body. Little whirring nodules on her suit's fingers shot light out and swept back and forth, slowly filling out a cross section displayed on the little screen on her wrist. When it was complete, she held it out for the human to examine. It looked like an MRI of her insides, but in graphic, kinda creepy detail. A list of chemicals appeared alongside it, listed off in Trixi's own language. "According to your blood screening, you're taking hormone supplements to amend your body's deficiencies. Is that correct?"

Raven nodded. "Yeah. Being a guy made me sad. Being a gal makes me...not so sad?"

"And your reproductive organs? Are they something you'd like to keep?"

That was a question Raven had chewed over for a long time. Discussing it with her therapist and doctor was one thing, but saying the words out loud took a bit more out of her. "I...I think I'm fine with them. It's just the 'everything else' that I wish I could change."

The alien nodded sagely. "Plenty to work with here. Particularly these nodules here," she tapped the orbs that were obviously Raven's balls. "What is their purpose? Do they store your protein?"

"Uhh...they do some things. They produce a bullshit hormone called testosterone, and I think they-"

Trixi shook her head. "Tiny, inefficient! Not nearly enough protein." She tapped away on the scanner pad and didn't acknowledge anything Raven said for a full minute. When she snapped out of her work-fugue, she continued. "I've reprogrammed the nanomites to change your orbs to protein production sacs, greatly increasing their fluid output. I also made them produce the correct hormones for you."

"Wait..." Raven held up a hand. "Are you saying you can give me testicles that feminize me?"

"Essentially, yes. Along with filling you with the correct hormones, they'll go to work undoing the work that the chemicals called 'androgens' did to your body as you grew up. These will manifest in the fluid produced in your new external organs, where they can be expelled at your leisure." She plugged an empty vial from a pouch on her hip into the scanner, which quickly filled with a fluid that moved like pink mercury. Once full, she removed it with an audible pop and held it up to her own eye level.

Raven gulped. "Is...is it safe?"

"It's coded to your species' biology now. I'll be monitoring the changes and can pull them back at any time. I've also got your original body stored in my memory banks, so I can also reverse it if so desired. But I won't inject it without your consent."

Raven stared at the vial of mystery fluid, letting the full scope of what had just happened run through her brain. She'd just had a terrible day, in a string of terrible days, and come home to an alien offering a mystery solution to some of her biggest woes. It all felt...too good to be true.

But if this Trixi wished her harm, she had every capability to do so. And she felt no implicit threat in the offer.