Galactic Bandits
Book 1
Duke Campbell
Contents
Newsletter
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Thanks for Reading!
Newsletter
About the Author
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Chapter One
As Regan waited at the bus stop for yet another long commute home, he contemplated his life’s choices. What was this constant grind for? Why this dead-end job? Why these empty relationships?
Once the bus arrived, he stepped inside, seeing the usual glum faces of his fellow commuters. He assumed they shared in his struggle, working unfulfilling jobs, drowning in student debt, and living alone.
Regan wanted to make use of his engineering degree and start a business. But he didn’t know where to begin, nor how to approach investors. Without money, it was difficult to achieve much of anything.
He tried to push those thoughts out of his mind, remembering the advice he gave to a coworker earlier that day.
Nobody will hand you an opportunity. You must make opportunities for yourself.
Regan smiled. He loved building and knew his prototypes could be worth something, if only he took the first step.
He imagined living in a cabin in the woods, isolated from the noise and chaos of society. There he would develop his designs in peace, achieving a destiny greater than anything society might hand him.
Then the bus speaker chimed and announced his stop, snapping him back to reality.
Exhausted from fixing gaming electronics all day at the warehouse, Regan kicked back on the sofa in the confines of his modest apartment and powered up his gaming console. He put his headset on, adjusted his mouthpiece, and booted up his favorite game.
He popped open a beer as War Games 2 loaded. It was his only respite at the end of an exhausting day, and he was going to enjoy it.
Picking up the controller and firing those first few rounds reengaged his muscle memory. He was in control, dodging ships and evading blasters.
Regan enjoyed shit-talking and destroying the armies of twelve-year-olds populating the servers of War Games 2. He had mastered this game years ago, having spent hundreds of hours earning his reputation as a Gold Warrior. He wouldn’t give these kids an inch.
After an hour of play, he popped open another beer, pausing mid-sip as his old friend, Larry, logged in. Larry invited him to a voice chat in-game, so Regan joined.
“Hell yeah!” Regan shouted. “Welcome to the arena, Big Cat! Ready to get your ass blown to shit?”
Larry snickered. “You wish, bro. I just got an ultra-rare laser from a loot box. Your ass is mine.”
“Yeah? Well unequip your pay-to-win weapons and we’ll see how tough you are, pal.”
Regan smugly awaited Larry’s response, only to be answered with silence. Then the power cut off.
The screen in front of him, which had been flashing with glorious explosions moments ago, was now black and empty. His lights, too, had flickered off, with the only illumination coming from the glowing city outside his windows. Regan dropped the controller in his lap and groaned. Just when things were heating up too!
Something behind him hissed. It sounded otherworldly and predatory, unlike any animal he had heard before. He pictured something large. Something threatening. Something weird.
He spun around in a hurry. All he could see was darkness. No movement.
I know I heard something.
Regan kept a baseball bat beside the sofa for protection. The sofa was the most centralized position in the apartment, so he had always kept his weapon there.
He gripped the bat with a nervous hand. His phone vibrated on the table with a message alert, so he snapped a hand out to silence it.
Dammit, Larry.
A loud clanging from his kitchen regained his attention. He jumped up and lifted the bat, ready to swing. He still had the phone in his other hand, which he slid into his pocket.
I can’t believe there’s somebody in my apartment!
He took slow steps toward the kitchen, his knuckles tight on the bat’s grip.
He hesitated outside the hallway, building up the courage to confront his intruder.
He counted to three and took a deep breath with each count.
One…
Two…
Three!
He jumped into the kitchen with his bat raised, trying to wear the most menacing face he could.
But his expression turned from menacing to wide-eyed when he saw the person standing before him.
Is “person” even the right word?
A beautiful woman stood in his kitchen. She was taller than him, her skin light blue and shimmering. Her fierce eyes sparkled with gold. Her hair reminded him of a galaxy, dark as night but full of glitter.
Regan had no words. Even his thoughts vacated him. His jaw dropped as he stared.
It took him a moment to notice she had a robotic arm grafted to her left shoulder. Then he saw the ray gun holstered on her belt, and his expression changed.
It must have changed enough to cause alarm, as she unholstered her ray gun and pointed it right at him in less than a second. She was fast.
Before Regan had time to acknowledge what was happening, she zapped him unconscious.
Chapter Two
Regan woke up with a splitting headache. It felt deep, almost artificial, and kept him from opening his eyes straight away. Then, in a rush, he remembered what happened.
Did I really get zapped by a ray gun?
He forced his eyes open, as if ripping himself from a dream. His blurry sight faded into place. It took longer than he expected, but then again, he’d never been shot by a ray gun before.
He blinked hard at what he saw.
A ship. A… spaceship? The cold metallic ground vibrated from a subtle hum which Regan assumed originated from an engine. A slight floating sensation only added to his initial suspicions.
Yeah, this was definitely a spaceship.
He jumped to his feet and looked around. The quick movement didn’t help his headache, but he had other problems to consider.
The room resembled a set from a cheap sci-fi movie. Lights, knobs, and switches covered the wall panels. Screens with galaxies and constellations displayed their wonders with little fanfare. A consistent beep sounded every few moments, signaling who knows what. Or it signaled nothing, these details being mere window dressing to an elaborate prank.
The room was a perfect, generic recreation of a sci-fi movie spaceship. He had to wonder now if this was a joke.
It had to be, right?
It was too much. A beautiful alien chick broke into his place, ray gunned him unconscious, and brought him aboard her spaceship?
No fucking way. Something else has to be going on.
And then he looked up.
The alien babe was on the ceiling. Regan couldn’t tell if she was floating or holding on, but her eyes glowed through
the shadows like a cat’s. She was looking at him, inspecting him.
Regan waved, then felt stupid.
Then it hit him that this was real. No practical effects could make a normal Earth woman look like the alien before him.
Holy shit. She really broke into his place, really zapped him, and now he really was on board a spaceship. Taken hostage. Being transported to… where, exactly?
Regan panicked.
He looked around, but wasn’t sure what he was looking for. He became fidgety and nervous, wishing he had his bat. He thought of Larry. Did his friend call the cops for him? Not that it would do him much good in space! His mind was racing out of control. And that damn beeping sound seemed to increase in speed as his anxiety grew.
Is that beep connected to my heartbeat? Am I being monitored?
The alien woman spoke, calling him from the ceiling.
“Settle down. I’d rather not put another one of you humans in cryostasis.”
Regan stopped and stood still. He was a prisoner at her mercy, and the thought of being frozen in cryostasis was somehow worse than being space kidnapped. Definitely the most impressive threat ever leveled against him.
The beeping sped up.
He wondered why she hadn’t put him in cryostasis from the beginning. If that were an option, his being awake made him a liability, didn’t it?
Hold up. Did she just speak to me?
“You speak English?” he asked.
“For all intents and purposes,” she said. “All that’s important is that we can understand each other.”
“I don’t get it.”
The woman dropped from the ceiling. Again, Regan couldn’t tell if she flew down or was just extremely graceful. When she landed, she did so silently.
She remained in shadow.
“I put a Universal Translator chip in your brain,” she explained, as if he knew what that meant. When he frowned at her, she continued, “It’s a device that allows conveyance and reception of information, regardless of language barriers.”
Regan nodded. He was on a spaceship, speaking with a beautiful alien chick who put a chip in his brain. At this point anything seemed possible.
She stepped out from the shadow toward him, in clear view for the first time. She looked almost human, except for her shimmering blue skin. Her natural arm had clawed fingertips, capable of ripping right through Regan’s skin if she pleased.
But she doesn’t seem interested in harming me, despite kidnapping me from Earth and all.
Two extra eyes peered at him through her hair. They were small and rested on antennas. They moved with her hair. Blinked even.
This made Regan smile despite himself.
And for the first time, the beautiful alien smiled as well.
“What do I call you?” she asked.
“Regan,” he said, after clearing his throat.
“Regan,” she repeated. She said it with a curiosity, and Regan felt strange hearing his name spoken by an alien in space. His smile grew. “I’m Arkei.”
He extended his hand to shake hers, which caused her to recoil a bit. It clearly wasn’t a customary practice wherever she came from, but she soon understood his intentions. She took a step forward and extended her blue hand to him.
It was warm, the texture nothing like human skin. It was silky and seemed to collect his hand more than just grip it. There was a pulse that emanated from her palm. He was in no hurry to let go.
It reminded him of her other arm, the robotic one.
She noticed his glance toward her artificial arm and pulled her hand away.
“It’s just a defect,” she snapped.
“Oh, I didn’t—”
“It’s caused me a great deal of humiliation throughout my life—banishment even. So spare me the comments.”
Regan raised his arms in defense. “I was just looking, honest. I think it’s, well… I think it’s awesome!”
This response surprised Arkei. She arched an eyebrow, hesitant to respond. “I was born with it,” she finally said. “It’s stronger and faster than my other arm—a mutation that makes me asymmetrical, an undesirable trait among my people.”
“They banished you for being born with an upgrade?”
“The hive doesn’t like abnormalities.”
“Wait, there’s a hive of people like you? Or… what are you?”
“Yes. We’re millions in number, one in mind. Except for rejects like me.”
“Well, it’s their loss. Your arm looks like a prosthetic of the future. What I’m saying is, it’s really cool.”
Arkei smiled, but then she stiffened a bit. Regan could sense her hesitating to get too comfortable in the conversation.
“Can we turn that beeping sound off?” Regan asked. His heartbeat was all over the place and hearing it was getting to him.
Arkei approached a control panel and pressed a button which ended the beeping. It left the room oddly silent then. It even brought him out of his fascination a bit and he remembered that while this was all interesting, she had kidnapped him.
“Thanks. So…” He wasn’t sure how to broach the subject, so he just went for it. “Why did you kidnap me?”
“I was hired to,” Arkei stated nonchalantly. “You’re to be added to Mephistopheles’s collection.”
“Hold up. As if the spaceship and sexy blue alien aren’t enough, you’re telling me Mephistopheles exists outside of fiction?”
“I think I understand your question, but I don’t know how to answer it. The Universal Translator assigns terms and names that are most appropriate in your language, unless there is no local equivalent.”
“Huh. Okay, sure. That makes sense. So this Mephistopheles guy hired you to kidnap me personally…? Or…”
“Not necessarily. Just any human who fit the criteria. Specifically, one who showed great skill in battle.”
This confused Regan for a moment, as he was hardly a warrior.
Then he remembered what he was doing when she captured him.
War Games 2. Dammit.
“The way you defeated those children in that war simulator was captivating,” she continued. “I knew then you were a great warrior.”
Regan thought about explaining the concept of a video game, but shrugged it off. After all, she had just referred to him as a great warrior, and he wasn’t about to correct her.
Regan stood a bit taller, feeling oddly confident. Though he knew her judgment wasn’t actually accurate, perception was everything, so…
“That’s all well and good, but what does he want a human for?”
“Humans are a Class C species. Very dangerous. Illegal to interact with unless they learn to explore space for themselves. Otherwise, they’re to be isolated on their little planet or moon or what have you. Mephistopheles has a taste for such species.”
“Illegal to interact with? Very dangerous? Yet you had no trouble kidnapping me.”
Arkei smirked and shrugged. “I’m trained in such things.”
Curious what else you’re trained in.
“But I still don’t get it,” Regan continued. “What are the other classes? And what do they mean?”
Arkei walked over to one of the computer screens and brought up a series of infographics breaking down each classification.
“Even your computer is in English?”
“The Universal Translator works on everything,” she said. “Now look, Class A species are non-threatening. Meek.” Regan watched a bunch of different aliens flash on the screen. It was like choosing a character in a video game. Their weaknesses, their strengths, their diets. All of it. “Considering they’re easy targets, the Intergalactic Council usually assigns them a defensive force once they are discovered or have developed space travel.”
“Intergalactic Council,” Regan repeated. “That’s so cool.”
Arkei smiled before continuing. “Class B species can protect themselves and are highly unlikely to engage in war unless provoked.” A new series of species an
d descriptions filled the screen. “Class B species hold their own, though the Intergalactic Council may assist them if things get out of hand. But they’re mostly focused on protecting Class A species. Limited resources and such.”
“Okay, and Class C?”
“Class C are less predictable, more dangerous.” Arkei’s voice grew sterner as the Class C series of species filled the screen. Regan felt odd seeing “Human Being” listed in what seemed to be the criminal lineup, but he supposed it made sense.
“Class C species rarely reach the stage of intergalactic travel and trade, as they often destroy themselves before that happens. The ones who do advance that far, however, are closely monitored by the Intergalactic Council.”
“Talk about a buzzkill.”
“Some do get to space, but it’s quite rare.”
“What class are you?”
“Class B,” Arkei said as she brought up her species on the screen: the Hiveroth. “We are highly defensive and dangerous, but we never strike first.”
“I call bullshit. You kidnapped me,” Regan said, giving her a nudge.
Arkei closed the screen and turned to him, clearly not amused. “I haven’t been a member of the hive for a long time.”
Regan couldn’t tell if she lamented the fact or not.
“I don’t like breaking the rules,” she continued, “but I owe a debt.” She walked away from the screen and toward a control panel on the opposite side of the room. It looked like a navigation console.
Regan followed, inspecting the console as if he knew what a damned thing on it meant. “Must be a serious debt you owe if the repayment requires you to break intergalactic law.” And as Regan was saying this, he remembered what she said earlier about her putting another human in cryostasis. “Wait! Two humans?”
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