Sergey recoiled, scrambling back, glasses sliding down his nose. This was no ordinary alien invader. She didn't belong, didn't fit in, stood out like a colorful Christmas tree inexplicably existing in the middle of the warzone.

  “What’s wrong, cutie?” the Maned Wolf asked.

  "You... smell odd," he muttered.

  "I smell like cheer!" she corrected. "Come on. Take me to your glorious leaders!"

  Sergey blinked at the aberrant alien, struggling to plot an escape route. "My… leaders?"

  "Yeah," she said, "the prad-masquerading humans you were sitting with earlier. Your group doesn't taste like the others. You're... different."

  "In a good way, I hope? You're different too," Sergey stated as the festive prad rapidly steered him back toward the large booth where his 'friends' watched with amused expressions.

  "Copernicus returns!" Dave roared. "And he brings... Whoa! Is that a Christmas sweater?"

  "It is a festive garment of the Slayer's most radiant See-Mass spirit!" the festive prad announced brightly, shoving Sergey into the booth and sliding in right next to him.

  Silence fell across the table of his friends.

  The Clouded Leopard stared. The Badger stopped chewing her coaster.

  "Hi!" The Maned Wolf beamed at the group, waving a clawed hand. "I am Comet Evergreen! Found this one for you!" She patted Sergey's head. "He looked lonely on the floor."

  "Ha!" Tom barked a laugh. "The astronomer found a comet! That's like... uhhh... like destiny n' shit!"

  Sergey glared at Tom.

  "Sup! I am Oppenheimer," Steve declared loudly, pointing to himself. He gestured to the others. "This is Darwin, DorkVader, and C4P4. And our new friends, Scrut Sevviya and Knight Uarri."

  Comet seemed to freeze for a second, brown eyes igniting with emerald spirals.

  "Oppenheimer," she purred, "like the inventor? Lovely. And Copernicus? Like the star-gazer, yes?"

  "We like science," Oppenheimer said, pouring a pitcher of beer. "What are you supposed to be? I didn't think the Frontenachii did holidays."

  "Yeah, what's with the getup? You with the greens?" Uarri tilted her head. "Or you one of the Stabalist Overseers?"

  "Neither! I am with the Order of Saint Nikky," Comet said smoothly.

  "Saint Nikky?" Sevviya blinked. "Which is what?"

  "I serve an ever-holiday-outreach Charity in Omnithornia," Comet said. She reached into the pocket of her sweater and pulled out a large bottle of wine with a red ribbon tied around the neck. She slammed it on the table. "The Stabalist Oversight Committee gave us a special pass to spread cheer to the indigenous unenlightened population. Here! Ambrosia-vodka blend. Courtesy of our Saint."

  She began pouring shots into everyone's glasses.

  "A festive wolf-fox!" Steve winked at Sergey. "Great job, dawg. Keep at it and you'll totally win the pot tonight."

  "I did nothing," Sergey hissed back, struggling not to stare at Comet's curvy body. "She just… appeared."

  "The holidays do sneak up on people." Comet leaned her chin on her hand, eyes boring into Oppenheimer. "Your group seem... particularly well organized. Code names. Cute challenges. Is this how you coordinate the resistance with your Emperor?"

  "The Emperor?" Dave snorted. "No way. Nobody knows who he is. He is like... an internet cryptid. A meme that got out of hand."

  "A meme," Comet repeated, "So he has no... headquarters? No physical address I could deliver a... fruit basket to?"

  "If we could sniff out his friggin' address, we wouldn't be stuck drinking here," the Scrut leopard huffed.

  "He is everywhere and nowhere," Tom added philosophically. "Like Anonymous. Or Batman."

  "Batman has a cave," Comet noted, "and a butler. Does your Emperor have a butler? Perhaps a... Magic fox with too many eyes?"

  "No idea," Steve said. "Before today, most people thought he was a crazy man who claimed to represent us."

  "And now?" Comet tilted her head.

  "We still think that he's crazy." Dave shrugged. "But like, a... successful kind of crazy?"

  "I think that it could be a false flag operation," Sarah said. "To weed out the local resistance! It could all be fake!"

  "You think that the Frontenachii blew up their own capital ship to find human resistance?" Sergey asked. "No freaking way. It's not fake. I saw the explosion through my telescope!"

  "True words ‘dat." Uarri grabbed a handful of peanuts, crushing them in a fist before shoving the debris into a mouth full of sharp teeth. "Our masters are cheap bastards."

  “How cheap?” Dave asked.

  "My dude, they steal magic spoons from dungeons," Uarri continued, spraying crumbs. "They steal planets. They steal people. If it is shiny or magical, they put it in a box and keep it forever. If it walks on two legs, they bind it with blood contracts to eternal servitude. Blowing up the Slayer's Sword? No ‘effin way. That is the opposite of the Frontenachii attitude. The Admiral would sooner eat her own legs than scratch the paint on her oversized hoard-box."

  “Collecting stuff is how the Frontenachii roll,” Comet agreed.

  “We should drink to that!” Oppenheimer declared, lifting up his glowing shot glass. "This is a legit victory of humanity over sexy alien oppression!"

  Sevviya rolled his eyes at Steve. Then she turned to the Maned Wolf.

  "You," Sevviya stated, sniffing the festive prad.

  Comet turned a beaming smile toward the Scrut. "Me?"

  "I don’t get you," Sevviya stated. "You DO NOT smell like a normal prad."

  "I told you," Comet stated "I am a charity worker from Omnithornia."

  The feline leaned closer, nostrils flaring. "You smell like... wrapping paper? You smell like a song stuck in my head. You reek of... holiday anticipation? It is making my whiskers itch. All of them. It's... weird. You're like... like a walking dungeon... not a prad girl."

  "It is the Ambrosia-vodka," Comet deflected, waving the open bottle. "Top shelf Omnithornian spirit, made from dragonblood diluted with extra-distilled Leviathan blood drops! It clings to everything. Come on now, have a drink, brave Scrut."

  She slid a shot glass toward Sevviya. The Scrut sniffed the liquid suspiciously, then rapidly tipped it into her maw. Free alcohol was evidently a universal language.

  “Hrmmm,” she let out. “This is… verrrry expensive stuff. Top shelf. Sold only during See-Mass.”

  The badger drowned her shot. The humans followed with the exception of Sergey.

  “Courtesy of our newest donor!” Comet declared. “A wealthy Omnid who wished us to bring See-Mass spirit to the Slayer-deprived locals!”

  “Pretty sure it’s summer here now,” Sevviya pointed out.

  “It's winter See-Mass wherever I go,” Comet snapped her finger. Snowflakes started to drift from the ceiling, landing on the table. “Part of our whole charity theme, see?”

  “Our? How many of you are out there?” Sergey found himself asking. Since he couldn't escape the booth, boxed in by the damned, stunning x-mas themed alien girl, at least he could investigate whatever the fuck threat she potentially represented.

  “Me and my eight reindeer sisters,” Comet replied. “Plus our Saint!”

  "Ugh. You are seriously driving my nose bananas," Sevviya grumbled, rubbing her muzzle. "Why do you smell so... loud?"

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Comet blinked innocent hazel eyes. She poured more of the slightly glowing liquid into shot glasses. "I smell like the spirit of giving! Saint Nikky insists we bathe in high-magrad Cinnamon-Pine extract before every mission too. It helps with... approachability, relaxes the uptight Omnids. Some of them can be quite... rough around the edges, you know."

  "It smells like a bakery exploded inside a forest," Sevviya muttered, taking another shot. "I cannot smell your intent. I cannot smell your fear. I cannot smell anything except…”

  “Joy and Goodwill towards all?” Comet tilted her fake antlers.

  “Yeah that,” the leopard huffed. “It's fucking annoying.”

  The drunk humans laughed.

  . . .

  "To new friends!" Comet Evergreen cheered.

  The Maned Wolf raised her glass high. The little silver bells on her wrist jingled. The bottle of Ambrosia seemed bottomless.

  “Drriiiiink!” Steve encouraged, waving at Sergey. “This is seriously good stuff!”

  Copernicus hesitated. Every instinct jostled by the terrifying vision of the moon-tree urged him to flee this festive predator. She was too tall. Too friendly. Too jolly. Too pretty.

  "Come on. Drink with us, star-gazer," Comet purred. She nudged his shoulder with her own.

  "Fake green,” the leopard slurred. “What are you hiding under all that nutmeg?"

  "Only the spirit of giving!" Comet beamed. She leaned forward, the bells on her choker chiming. "Tell me, Sevviya Minnilissi... have you been a good girl this year? Have you served your masters well? Or have you been... naughty?"

  The question hung in the air, feeling loaded.

  Sevviya looked confused, ears tilted back. "I... I follow orders. I am a soldier."

  "Good," Comet declared. "Then drink. It is rude to refuse a gift from the Saint."

  Sevviya looked at the glass, and then knocked it back. Her eyes widened. She coughed violently. "Slayer's Sword! That tastes like... happy memories? How?!"

  "The purest Ambrosia." Comet winked. "Spiced with finest joy. Three shots and you remember your warmest holiday memory as if it was yesterday!”

  Copernicus looked at his own glass. If it could take down a leopard person, it would probably kill him.

  "You too, Copernicus," Comet whispered. Her breath tickled his ear. "Do not be rude. Accept the gift of my Saint."

  Her caressing, teasing words seemed to force his hand into action. He drank.

  It did not burn going down like ordinary alcohol.

  A supernova of warmth flooded his chest, racing down his limbs to his fingertips. The prickling headache behind his eyes vanished instantly. The terror of the moon-tree receded, replaced by a fuzzy, warm sensation that everything was going to be absolutely fine.

  "Whoa," he breathed out.

  "Good, yeah?" Comet asked.

  "Festive," he agreed, his tongue feeling loose.

  Comet pulled a thick, red ledger from somewhere inside her sweater. Then, she produced a fountain pen that looked like a sharpened candy cane.

  "Now," the Maned Wolf said, opening the book. "I need to know who I am drinking with. For the list. The Saint likes to keep track of... notable individuals."

  "Didn't we introduce ourselves already?" Tom asked.

  "Yeah! I'm Oppenheimer," Steve announced proudly, puffing out his chest. "We're like... super notable!"

  The leopard at his side let out a deep sigh.

  "Just think of it as a festive game," Comet said as her quill scratched across the paper. "Oppenheimer. Leader." She looked at Dave. "And you?"

  "Darwin," Dave said. "Uhhh... I'm a... an Evolutionary specialist!"

  "Darwin," Comet repeated, writing it down. "Specialist. Very good."

  She turned her golden gaze to Tom.

  "DorkVader," Tom said with a grin, adjusting his sunglasses. "Tactical... uh... enforcement. I can choke our enemies with the Force!"

  "Enforcement," Comet murmured. The tip of her tongue poked out as she wrote. "DorkVader. Is that a rank?"

  "It is a title of great power," Tom lied gravely.

  "Adorable," Comet beamed. She looked at Sarah.

  "C4P4," Sarah beeped and laughed, pointing to the robot on her dress. "Communications and... droid relations!"

  "Communications," Comet underlined something in the book three times. "And Copernicus here is the star-gazer. The watcher."

  "Yep." Copernicus nodded. The alcohol made him feel warm and important. "I see... things. Big things."

  "I bet you do," Comet purred. She closed the book with a snap. "You are all so... organized. You sure you aren't the resistance?”

  "The resistance?" Oppenheimer laughed. "Yeah, sure! We are totally the resistance. Resisting sobriety, am I right?"

  He high-fived Uarri.

  Copernicus noticed that Comet put a hand on his thigh. The heat radiating from her fingers felt intoxicating.

  "Another round!" Comet announced. "On the house! We must celebrate your... bravery to flaunt victory over the Frontenachii so openly!"

  "Yes! To our fantastic bravery in the face of excessively curvy n' tall alien babes!" Oppenheimer shouted.

  Sergey inhaled. Comet smelled so good.

  Like a childhood Christmas morning, before he learned that Santa was just his dad eating cookies in the dark.

  "You are tense, Seer," Comet observed. Her hand moved across his leg and then offered a gentle squeeze. Her claws were sharp, pricking the denim of his jeans. "Is the weight of the stars too heavy?"

  "The moon," Sergey blurted out.

  He clamped his mouth shut.

  No. Do not talk about the tree with the sus x-mas fox-wolf! Do not...

  "The moon?" Comet tilted her head. "What about the moon?"

  "It is... big," he managed. "And bright. And... very far away. It, uhh, causes the tides..."

  "Not so far," Comet smiled. "The Slayer's Sword reached it quite easily."

  "Yeah," Tom agreed. "Big-bada-boom!"

  "Boom indeed," Comet chuckled jovially. "Naughty boys breaking expensive toys. Drink with me, Seer!”

  She poured more drink into his mouth before he could protest and then did a shot herself.

  "You know," Comet said, leaning in until her muzzle was inches from his face, red-black whiskers tickling his cheek. "I like a man who watches things. It shows... patience. Discipline. Are you a patient man, Copernicus?"

  "I waited five years for a grant once," he mumbled, blushing.

  "Mmm," the Maned Wolf hummed. "Delicious patience. You must show me your... telescope sometime. I have a list of stars I need to check."

  "It is a Celestron EdgeHD," Copernicus bragged, his inhibitions dissolving in the syrup-sweet alcohol. "Eight-inch aperture. Aplanatic Schmidt-Cassegrain optics."

  "Talk nerdy to me," Comet whispered. Her fluffy tail thumped against the back of the booth.

  Sevviya slammed her empty glass on the table. "Why do you wear the antlers of a prey animal, Comet?" she demanded. "It is insulting to the hunter!"

  Comet turned slowly to the Scrut. "Reindeer are not prey, little cat. They are transportation. And sometimes... they run over grandmas."

  "What?" Sevviya blinked.

  "An old Omnithornian ballad," Comet said, her smile returning instantly. "You would not understand. It requires a certain... cultural appreciation."

  "She is weird," Sevviya told Uarri.

  "Eh, I like her," Uarri mumbled, half-passed out, face down on the table. “She provffides quali-tey alcohol.”

  "Lightweight," Comet scoffed. She turned back to Copernicus. "Tell me Seer, you meet here often? To plot? To plan your... cultural victories?"

  "Every night," Oppenheimer volunteered, “we’re on a mission to conquer the invaders with love!”

  “Pfshh. You truly believe that shit’s gonna work on us?” Sevviya slurred.

  “Isn’t it?” Steve laughed. “Am I wearing you down with my persistence yet? How seduced are you by my incredible charm?”

  The leopard pursed her lips.

  “Oh, she wants you bad,” Comet purred, white-tipped orange tail swishing. “So very, very bad. But she’s afraid of her big, bad Wendigo Commander punishing her. You should go for it, Sevvy. Grab him and don’t let go. Who knows what snowstorm tomorrow might bring?”

  “Oi!” The leopard’s head snapped to the reindeer-wolf. “You know something, I don’t, Evergreen?”

  "I know that life is short,” Comet replied. “That tomorrow is promised to no one. That you should seize happiness when it presents itself." She gestured at Oppenheimer with a candy-cane painted claw. "This one clearly adores you. Why deny yourself warmth and joy of the hearth?"

  "Because..." Sevviya struggled to form words. "H-high Commander Remmxia said... said we have to be... civil. Extra professional. Especially today. Can't fraternize with the locals."

  "Uh-huh. And your High Commander," Comet said. "Where is she tonight? Is she here, watching you?"

  "Nah," Sevviya yawned. "Probably crying in her Seeker. Or raging at the Greens. Or licking her wounds. One of her male bolds nearly decapitated her. We got Wattica here tho'. She chill-ish. Sometimes." She eyed the Commander occupying a distant booth with a bunch of other female prads. The Wendigo seemed to be preoccupied with a rerun of Peter Pan.

  "Poor dear," Comet cooed. "And what about your Admiral? She’s demoted, I hear?”

  “Yep.” The leopard nodded. "Stripped of rank! Serves her right, the—" She hiccupped. "The pompous beerch.”

  “Exactly! The order is in disarray! For today, you’re free,” Comet said. “Accept the gift of freedom and take what your heart desires. Because otherwise I might…”

  "Might what?" The leopard's heckles suddenly rose.

  "Might ask him... for a dance," Comet grinned.

  “No!” Sevviya growled, clawed hand suddenly wrapped around Steve. “He’s mine! Screw off!”

  “That’s what I thought,” Comet laughed.

  "Brb, bathroom time." Sarah yawned and climbed over the others, vanishing into the dim pub.

  “So you are into me,” Steve elbowed the leopard Scrutimancer with an extra-giddy expression.

  “Ughhhh, yes, fine, Leviathan’s tits!” Sevviya ground out. “I’m into you, you darn persistent human, are you freaking happy?”

  “Very!” Steve laughed.

  Sergey laughed too, feeling totally submerged in the inescapable holiday-warmth permeating the air around them.

  Maybe, Comet wasn’t a harbinger of the Great Coniferous Conversion? Maybe she really was a nice girl from an Omnithornian charity?

  Maybe Neil Armstrong was wrong or lied to him? Why did he choose to listen to a spooky ghost created by an eldritch moon tree anyway?

  The moon with its ghosts was far away and Comet… Comet was right here.

  Sitting in his lap.

  When did she even get into his lap?