My Queen desired Earth for its animals.

She kept a menagerie on board her Regency Monitor, full of creatures of all types. Strictly speaking, I was part of it.

When I was first abducted, the menagerie, thankfully small at the time, was not well cared for. My Queen’s servants knew little of caring for Earth animals, and while they were fed and cleaned up after, they were not given proper medical care or enrichment. Emboldened by the amount of free range I was given despite my captivity, I started making demands and was surprised to discover that everything I asked for was quickly provided.

Eventually, under my watch, the menagerie grew to encompass a large section of my Queen’s ship. I assisted my Queen in selecting animals that would flourish in captivity. One of my Queen’s gardens was converted into an aviary where birds could fly where they pleased and hunt insects. Cats and ferrets bounding through the corridors became a regular sight, much to the annoyance of many of my Queen’s servants. A day-night cycle was implemented to the lights in this area.

Most of my days were occupied by the animals. Typically unwilling to trust anyone else with the job, I would feed them, clean up after them, let them out for exercise and play, lock them up again and make sure they had the proper bedding and toys. I also cared for them when they were sick. Thankfully, my training as a vet tech and access to the Earth’s internet enabled me to diagnose and treat most of the problems that came up. And my Queen’s servants could procure any medication or treatment I needed.

I never found out what happened to any of those animals after I returned to Earth. I hope my Queen kept them. I hope she ensured they were cared for. I kept a list of each animal and its needs for her servants on days when I was unable to complete my tasks, but I couldn’t help but feel as if I had let them down, failed them in some way for being separated from them.