“Good morning, class. My name is Ava Payne and I’ll be your substitute teacher for today.”

A collective groan passes through the classroom, and already I can see some students close their laptops and head for the doors. Off to a great start…

“Not so fast,” I protest. “I know you all came here to see Dr. Granger, but unfortunately, she can’t be here today. Or tomorrow. Or the rest of the semester, for that matter.”

“Why not?!” a blonde girl on the front row protests as she pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “We all took this class especially to meet Sarah Granger!”

“She is on maternity leave,” I say.

My best friend got herself knocked up by a big, blue Zoran warrior, and I get pick up the pieces.

“However, I was on the Spearhead as well,” I continue. “I traveled alongside the Suuna. I’m sure you were dying to quiz Dr. Granger, but I can answer all of your questions as well.”

“Oh yeah?!” the prissy blonde in the front says. She grabs a copy of her textbook and holds it up for me to see. My Life on Archon — 24 Hours with the Nezdek or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Zoran. The book Sarah wrote about her adventures on Archon, dealing with the Nezdek has become a runaway hit. “Were you enslaved by aliens? Did you face the Demogorgon in the pit? Did you strike down the otherworldly beast with your own two hands? Have you been embraced by a Suuna and seen the Drua, Miss Payne?! Have you found love in the hands of a wounded alien warrior?!”

I knew this wasn’t going to be an easy class to teach — Sarah is a hard act to follow, through no fault of her own — but they’re really giving me a hard time out there. Hundreds of eyes are looking at me, each one scowling, filled with disappointment and anger.

“No,” I say. “No, I haven’t been impregnated by a Zoran, if that’s what you want to know.”

And I hope I never am. Yeah, they’re sexy, tall, strong — but they’re also cocky, arrogant, impossible. Possessive. I can’t be tied down like that, I’m a bird. I need to fly.

“But, I am Sarah’s best friend, whether you believe it or not. I started off as her research assistant, but a lot has happened since then, as I’m sure you’ve all read by now. I was part of the Spearhead, of the mission, and even though I haven’t been through the same horrible ordeals as her, I’m still the most suitable person to teach this class. After all, you’re here to learn ‘Alien Etiquette’,” I say, pointing at the title of class up on the beamer behind me. “You’re here to become diplomats and ambassadors, are you not?”

“Yes,” the class responds unenthusiastically.

“Good, then let’s get started.”

Our mission aboard the spaceship the HF Spearhead was to find a new home for the Zorans; the growly, seven-foot-tall alien warriors that have made Earth their home since their world was destroyed, several decades ago. Instead, we ended up with no fuel in the middle of nowhere, and Sarah and her Zoran bodyguard, Kazim, had to go ask the local aliens for help.

The local aliens turned out to be of the enslaving raping murdering kind. The Nezdek, they’re called — tall, thin, ghostly pale, with white eyes and long hair and a penchant for torture. Sarah and Kazim barely escaped with their lives, and we rushed home, freeing their Suuna slaves in the process.

Now, Sarah and I are lecturers at the Federation’s Academy, preparing the latest batch of fresh-faced recruits for what horrors they might face in deep space.

At least, that’s what I’m trying to do. Instead, all they seem to care about is Sarah’s daring escape, or how Kazim changed from a bare-knuckled boxer to a hero, like this is just some fun, adventurous story.

This is not some story to me and Sarah. This is our life!

“Now, if you’ll all turn to ‘Chapter Three: First Encounter’ on your tablets. Who has read this one?”

All hands fly up in an instant. At least they’ve done their homework!

“Good! Can anyone tell me what this chapter is about?”

A dark-haired girl with a red sweater raises her hand. I realize I should know all of their names, but this is my first class, and there’s hundreds of them. Articles of clothing it is.

“Yes, red sweater?”

“It’s about how defiant Sarah is, when faced with the slaving aliens!”

“No,” the prissy blonde interrupts. “It’s obviously about how courageous Kazim is! God, can you even read?”

“Be nice, white cardigan,” I tell her. “You’re both wrong, as a matter of fact. It’s not about courage, or defiance. It’s about adapting to the situation! The Nezdek consider women a commodity. To them, we are slaves. Servants. Cattle. Breeding stock. We could say we’re shocked, outraged and horrified, and trust me, you’d have good reason to be, but you can also say: now that we know this, how do we deal with them? When faced with this prejudice, Sarah and Kazim adapted to the situation. Kazim took the lead in the negotiations, even though Sarah technically outranked him. That, to me, is the core of this chapter.”

The red-sweatered woman raises her hand again.

“Are you suggesting we accept their backwards morals? I mean, they’re slavers! Shouldn’t we be fighting them?!”

“So, you are suggesting we, as humans, are always right? That our moral compass is infallible?”

The girl scrunches her nose. “Well, in this case… yeah.”

“In this case, you’re right,” I say. “Of course the Nezdek’s ideas are barbaric. However, you have to remember that Sarah and Kazim were stranded in space, without fuel. They were helpless, and completely at the alien’s mercy. They had no other choice than to cooperate, really. And in the end, they used the Nezdek’s rules against them, using an ancient ceremony to free the Suuna and themselves. Poetic justice.”

The class furiously scribbles notes, and I feel like I’m finally getting somewhere. Beforehand I was so nervous I got stomach cramps. Facing evil aliens is one thing, facing a class full of critical students is another!

“Great. Now, please turn to Chapter Four, and —”

Before I can finish my sentence my world is flipped upside down.

Literally.

I’m floating, my feet up straight in the air, my dark hair touching the ground. For a second I wonder if I’m having a bad dream; if this has all been some kind of weird, stressful nightmare and I’m seconds away from waking up, clammy and tangled up in sheets, but then the entire class screams. The high-pitched noise hurts my ears, and I cover them with both hands, my feet kicking up in the air — senselessly.

The roof itself is lifted off the university roof with a hellish sound that makes the entire building quake. A white, blinding light surrounds me, and I’m floating up into the air.

This must be a bad dream. It has to be.

As I’m lifted up high, I can see the rest of the city — and it’s going up in flames. Thousands of spaceships are opening fire, seemingly at random, shooting, burning, killing.

The sound of senseless destruction washes over me like an ocean, and I’m too stunned to even react. Instead, I just stare, my mouth open, my eyes wide. A single thought crosses my mind.

Those alien spaceships have the same three-pronged design as the Nezdek ships.

They followed us.

And they’re invading Earth.