Femboy on alien tentacle action! It's a little non-con-y a bit but the protag can stop it at any point so I think it's not too bad. Heads up, just in case though!
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Lan felt like he was going to explode watching the blue flames of a hullcutter torch slice through the heavy airlock door. Every party of his Queensguard training told him to leap up, take a defensive position, ready a vibro-halberd, do anything and everything to prepare himself. Instead, he sat like a lump in a ridiculous pink dress while the rest of his comrades did all the work.
The royal yacht looked nothing like it had mere weeks before. All the ornate organic wood paneling and furniture had been stripped out, along with anything else nonessential or that took up power, weight, or space. Bare conduits snaked up skeletal walls and slid underneath half exposed deck plates. Frayed tufts of carpet and upholstery fabric hung off exposed rivets, hinting at how comfortable the interior had once been. Lan himself sat on a box of Q-rations, feet just barely dangling off the floor. Only seconds left before they came. The torch was putting out an awful lot of heat, but that's not the only reason he was sweating.
"At least give me a blaster," he grumbled to the imposing woman standing beside him.
Vexa shook her head, eyes locked on the cutting flame. "You know our orders. The longer they think you're really the Princess, the more time she has to slip through the blockade on the other ship. The Azal know she's not a fighter. Just look helpless and you'll do fine."
It still stung. The entire operation rested on there being a convincing body double for Princess Astra. As the slightest built member of the Queensguard, it had fallen to him. He was a smidge over the Princess' 5'4, and had the same high cheekbones and button nose. The team's medic had induced his short brown hair into a growth spurt and dyed it to match her tailbone length neon green locks. He wore her exact prescription of glasses, despite the effects they had on his own vision. Even the dress he wore was straight out of her wardrobe, specifically picked out as the one she wore in her official state portrait.
Nine other members of the Queensguard stood nearby. Their trademark polearms humming ominously pointed at the airlock as the nova hot torch rounded the final corner. They didn't have a chance of beating back a battleship's worth of alien attackers, but had to make it look good. Too easy and the enemy might figure out the ruse. Too much of a fight and a lot of people could get killed. It was a delicate balance, and every second would count.
"Are you scared?" Vexa asked. She was an imposing woman, standing 6' tall with a lean, muscular physique. Her gorgeous red hair pulled back into a ponytail, trailing along the back of her armour when she swept her sightlines for threats. Everything about her equipment was standard Queensguard issue, save the golden ring she wore on her finger. Len wore an almost identical one, only the name inscribed on the inside differed.
"I know what the Azal are like," Len replied, "If it comes down to it, let them take me. I couldn't bear to see you get hurt on my behalf."
She shook her head. "We knew what we were getting into when we got engaged, sweets. Our duty above our desire. Don't worry; if all goes to plan, we get ransomed in a week. A month tops. The Azal are signatories to the Treaty of Aldebaran, same as us."
The torch's flame flicked out of existence. A fraction of a second later, something bashed the sliced metal out of the hole. Humid, salty air poured into the yacht. Lan clenched his teeth.
The first Azal through the door swept down two of the soldiers with polearms before they could even swing. Green-black tentacles moved like bullwhips, snapping out to catch heel or wrist and yank their prey to the deckplate. A blaster caught it in the torso and it dropped, but three more interlopers swept into the hole. One went right and harangued the pilot, who sliced his halberd like an amateur. One went left, which Vexa caught with a broad sweep of her blade. The third crawled along the ceiling with its suction cups, and Lan found himself gawking. They moved like lightning, their semiorganic spacesuits formfitting and allowing their dextrous tentacle-like limbs full range of motion.
More shots rang out, this time from the alien weapons. Mounted on their arm-equivalents were stubby protrusions that shot out thick globules of grey slime. These adhered to everything they touched, then groped around to connect with one another, forming gooey restraints. Most of the Queensguard dropped to those, Vexa herself taking at least a dozen shots before the combined strength of the adhesive bound her hands to her legs and made her topple to the deckplates.
It only took a few more moments. Lan tried to look as regally as possible, all while sneaking glances to make sure his wife to be was alright.
After the last shot was fired, and the Azal wounded were hauled away back into the ship, a new figure emerged. Rather than the intimidating battle armour, this one wore a skinsuit with beautiful, swirling designs on its surface. Indeed, she looked unlike any alien that Lan had ever seen.
Her body represented a harmonic fusion between their two species. Her, he was vaguely certain that was the right pronoun, her hair took the form of dozens of motile tendrils that wiggled restlessly on her head. Her arms and legs resembled human limbs, but displayed a dexterity to them as she moved that wouldn't have been possible had she an internal skeleton. The alien glided over the deckplating, smiling serenely.
"Princess Astra," the alien began, her voice an approximation of a native Earth speaker if they could enunciate while gurgling water, "It is with great pleasure that we meet for the first time. That is the right word, right? Pleasure?"
Lan stiffened his back, raised his voice as high as it could comfortably go, and began the deception. "It is I, yes. It would seem you have me at a disadvantage."
"I might assume you were referring to how I have subdued all your protectors. But I believe, if my language guide is to be believed, you are requesting a name." She performed a gesture somewhere between a bow and a curtsey in a fashion that could not be performed if her limbs were to actually have bones in them. "My name is Azal. I am to serve as an ambassador of sorts between our two peoples."
Lan raised a meticulously plucked eyebrow. "I thought your species was named Azal?"
"It is. And I'm their representative. I speak for Azal, so then I must be Azal. Apologies if you find this confusing, but rest assured we found primogeniture inheritance of terrestrial property equally incomprehensible. Suffice it to say, our two peoples do things differently and move on from there."
"I see. Very well, what can I do for you, Ambassador Azal?"
