Arkei and Regan stood before the jail cell as Straya unfolded her proposal.
“There’s a planet of people known as Brutes,” she began. “And I know a village of them that houses an Empath.”
“I know of the Brutes,” Arkei began, “but how can you be so certain they have an Empath?”
“One of my partners…” Straya paused and turned her gaze toward Regan. “One of my friends who you so efficiently murdered… was from this place. We did business with them often.”
“The Brutes never struck me as the business type,” Arkei commented.
Straya turned her gaze back to Arkei. “Well, aren’t you quick to judge?”
“You tried to murder us and loot our ship,” Regan noted, realizing that he said our ship. He stuck by it and continued, “Why should we trust anything you say?”
Straya stood up and approached the bars. The color of her skin shifted as she moved away from the wall in the cell. “Because I don’t particularly care for being left in a cage, and I figure if I prove to be of great help to you, then perhaps you’ll let me go.”
Arkei grabbed Regan by the arm and led him out of the cell room and back to the command room. She kept her voice low.
“I don’t trust her,” she said.
“I don’t trust her either, but she’s our only lead to an Empath.”
“Even if what she says is true, these Brutes are a strange and barbaric species. They are people of their word, but they are a warring race and crave violence.”
“Class C, I assume?” Regan asked, feeling like he was figuring it all out.
“Of course.”
“Well, we’ve both been learning not to judge too quickly, haven’t we?” Regan smiled, trying to seem suave. “We’ll keep her in restraints, but I think it’s worth a try.”
Arkei regarded him for a moment. He wondered if she could tell he was doing everything he could to avoid being Mephistopheles’s little pet.
Finally she nodded and grabbed a handgun she took from the pirate ship, placing it on the opposite side of her holstered ray gun. Regan got the feeling that this one wasn’t only meant for stun purposes.
“If she tries anything,” Arkei started. “I blow her away like I should have from the start.”
“If she tries anything,” Regan responded. “I won’t get in your way.”
As the doors opened and the boarding ramp descended before them, Regan’s excitement grew. He was stepping onto an alien planet, the first human to do so.
Well, unless all those other alien abductions he heard about were real too.
Eh, I’ll still call myself the first one in my memoirs.
Arkei explained to Regan that the entire planet had an invisible system involving micro capsules of various gases. They would open when the matching genetic marker of the being visiting came in contact with it.
In a world dedicated to trade, it made breathing possible for every species that visited, not just the natives. It was an outdated system according to Arkei, but still viable. Most planets had newer state-of-the-art systems, but the Brutes didn’t care enough to update their technology.
Straya didn’t walk in front, but she pointed the way, which was through desert-like terrain. He could imagine, at least for a moment, that he was back on Earth, somewhere in the Sahara desert, perhaps. But when they started seeing buildings and the people inhabiting them, he realized they were nowhere near his home planet.
The buildings were huts made of rock and plaster. The people were large and aggressive in their behavior. They were pushing and shoving and throwing things around, though none of it seemed to be actual fighting, just the way they conducted themselves.
They were strong, boar-like, with muscles defining every movement they made. And they had horns that came from their noses or heads, protruding through tough green skin.
The Brutes grunted often and seemed to be laughing at everything.
They’re nothing but a bunch of frat boys.
And the further into the village they went, Regan noticed that many of them seemed to be looking at him and Arkei with surprised expressions. Then he realized they were looking at Straya, who was wearing her binds proudly in front of her. She walked with her head tall and her posture composed. She was showing off that she was a prisoner.
Regan didn’t like the situation.
“They have captured Straya!” one Brute shouted, pointing a finger at the group.
Other Brutes chimed in as well and shouted questions and comments at them.
“They defeated the pirates?”
“Where are they?”
“Why have you taken Straya captive?”
These questions and more like them came hurtling at Regan and Arkei, the breath of these creatures making them both recoil back. Regan wasn’t sure what the right answer was. But he also knew that the Brutes would continue to surround and inquire until they had their answer.
Arkei raised her hand and spoke up.
“The pirates attacked my ship. I defeated them…” she looked at Regan “…with the help of my friend from Earth.”
“It’s a human!” one of the onlooking Brutes gasped.
“A human killed the pirates!” another shouted.
“Congratulations to the human and the Hiveroth in their victory!” another roared.
Regan then understood that this culture welcomed violence, battle, and victory. Class C indeed. They didn’t know him, or anything about him, and yet they raised a goblet or a fist in his name for simply defeating others.
For murdering others.
Again, Regan felt like a mislabeled warrior. A pillar of success that he couldn’t represent. But how else could he respond?
He smiled and raised his arm to the cheering Brutes.
An older Brute lady rubbed one Brute’s shoulders before handing him a tray and sending him toward Regan.
This Brute raised the tray. It had two goblets on it—one for Regan and one for Arkei.
Regan and Arkei looked at each other with mild concern, but decided it was best not to offend them. And so they each took a glass.
Regan and Arkei lifted their glasses. The rest of the surrounding villagers repeated the gesture.
“What can we do for you, dear warriors?” the kneeling Brute asked them.
Regan felt the opportunity to maintain his spot as a feared warrior and before taking a sip of what he assumed was an alien lager, he laid out his request.
“We have come for an Empath!” he said, projecting his voice with confidence. Then he lifted his glass to his lips.
The villagers grew quiet, only to erupt into cheers. This confused Regan as the drink touched his lips.
Strong lager for sure!
Regan soon understood the celebration at his request when the kneeling Brute said, “The human challenges the Brute King for his prized Empath!” The Brute stood and raised both arms in the air. “We are in for a violent showdown to the death! What a glorious event this will be!”
Regan didn’t spit out his booze, but he did nearly choke on it.
A violent showdown to the death?
He glanced at Arkei, who gave him a worried look. Then he looked at Straya, who winked at him, before blowing him a kiss.
She had set him up.
The Brutes carried Arkei, Regan, and Straya into a large public space in the center of the village. It resembled a courtyard, with many tents surrounding. All the Brutes seemed to be pouring drinks and cooking meat. It was a celebration of sorts.
When the Brutes put them put down, Arkei huddled over Regan and Straya.
“You set us up!” she hissed at Straya.
“You murdered my entire family,” Straya said in return. “I wasn’t going to just turn around and help you, you know.”
Regan grabbed Straya’s arm and pulled her face close to his. She resisted slightly, even had a flash of fear in her eyes as he glared at her.
“I spared your life,” he said calmly. “And let’s not forget, you at
tacked first. You’re in no moral position to cry about the consequences of that.”
He then let go of her arm and she fell off balance a bit.
Straya looked at him, then down at the ground, regaining her composure. Finally she scoffed. “Pfft. Morals. Like that’s made any difference in my life.”
The Brutes brought Regan more trays of booze, but he simply smiled and waved them away. He knew that too much alcohol—or whatever the substance was—wouldn’t make things easier on him.
Then there were horns and drums. It was crude sounding, announcing the Brute King. He was large and muscular, each step seeming more threatening than the previous one.
He raised his arms as the Brutes welcomed him to the courtyard with great applause.
“I hear I have a challenger!” he shouted, and the applause only grew louder. “Finally!”
Then people cleared out of the space between the Brute King and Regan. The two locked eyes from across the courtyard, then the Brute King walked toward him.
Regan felt that he too should approach the Brute King, so he did. He took steady steps to not appear afraid, but when he stood before the giant, he felt as if he were about to be pulverized.
The king stood nearly double his size, with large earrings in his pointed ears and a horn coming from his nose. He resembled a standing boar, with fists as large as Regan’s head.
The Brute King arched an eyebrow in surprise.
“A human?” he asked. “Far from home, aren’t we?”
“He defeated the pirates!” someone shouted from the crowd which was met with much applause.
“Impressive,” the Brute King said. “All victories are worth celebrating, which is what we shall all do tonight!”
He raised his arms in the air and the cheering crowd grew mightily.
“Tomorrow the challenger will fight a lesser warrior than myself,” the monstrosity announced. “After all, you need to prove yourself worthy of fighting the king.” The Brute King laughed as he said this. Most of the audience did too. “But tonight, we feast!”
A group of Brutes lifted Regan and carried him into a celebration tent where they offered him just about everything he could want. Yet at that moment the only thing he wanted was to be far away from here.
The party raged on into the night as the Brute King drank goblet after goblet of the heavy lager. He laughed and smiled all evening, surrounded by beautiful women who fed him various foods and refilled his cups.
Regan sat not too far from him. And while they brought him all the same items, he refused them. The king made fun of him for his refusals, but credited the warrior for staying focused on the eve of battle.
Regan thought he might get sick.
“Your majesty,” Regan said. “In preventing the pirates’ attack and then defeating them, I looted their ship, gaining many valuable items and weapons.”
“Well done!” the Brute King said.
“What I’m saying is, perhaps you would be interested in trading them for the Empath?”
The Brute King just laughed and laughed, thinking that Regan was joking.
“You are funny, human!” he bellowed. “I look forward to seeing your skills tomorrow on the battlefield!”
Regan simply nodded his head, realizing this would likely be his last night alive.
He stood from the plush mountain of pillows he sat on and nodded to the Brute King.
“I should rest then,” he said, walking away.
“Rest well, challenger!” the Brute King said.
Regan took several steps when the Brute King called after him.
“Oh, and challenger!” he started. “You have named your conquest—my Empath. But you have not revealed what you will give up should you lose…”
Regan thought about it, then turned back to the king.
“If I lose, then my prisoner, Straya, is for the victor.”
The Brute King nodded. “A fine specimen indeed. I look forward to tomorrow’s battle.”
Regan sat at the edge of the bed the Brutes had made up for him. He had a hut of his own, which was full of foods and drinks, and a bell should he want anything else. They had made it clear to him that anything he wanted was available.
But he wanted none of it.
In the corner of his room was a cage, and when Arkei arrived after leaving him alone for some time, she shoved Straya into it. She then sat on the bed next to Regan.
“You must get some rest,” Arkei said.
“There’s no way I can defeat anything like these Brutes in hand-to-hand combat.”
“Of course you can,” Arkei said, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You’re a great warrior. I’ve seen it.”
Fucking War Games 2.
Regan turned toward Straya and glared at her through her cage.
“I chose you as my prize to give up, should I lose,” Regan told her. It wasn’t a threat, but he delivered the line with subtle anger.
Straya nodded.
“I figured I’d be your offering,” she said. It was somber. “But I’m not worried. You’ll defeat whoever you face, I’m certain.”
Regan stood up and approached the cell.
“How can you believe that?”
“There’s something in your eyes besides sport,” she said. “You have something that I can’t identify, but it’s odd, and something that gives you an edge in battle, I’m sure.”
Regan shook his head and turned away from the cage.
“I’m sorry,” Straya said.
Regan stopped walking and turned back toward her.
“Sure you are,” he said.
“I mean it,” she replied. “I have never met a warrior like you. You spared my life in battle, and I’m sorry for turning against you as I did. Back on that ship, the only thing I could think about was getting out. I spent my childhood in a cage, and the last thing I wanted was to end up in another one.”
She paused as she stared at the metal bars before her. “Now I’ve had time to consider my actions… I’m not used to dealing with warriors like you. Warriors who show compassion, even in victory. I shouldn’t have turned on you.”
Regan waved her off, unsure whether she was telling the truth. He walked over to Arkei and gave her a long look, but said nothing. He needed rest.
He briefly thought of how strikingly beautiful Arkei was right then, and that tonight might be his last night alive. He should have her right there in that bed. He should make Straya watch from her cell. He should indulge himself one last time before his death in the morning.
But Arkei seemed to understand. She stood up and placed her hand on his cheek.
“Get some rest,” she said. “You will only defeat the Brute when your mind is clear.”
She was probably right.
Regan laid on the soft bed. He put his hands behind his head and looked at the canvas ceiling above him.
Arkei blew out the candle in the hut’s corner and laid on the bed next to him.
No touching or teasing occurred. They laid there in silence with their prisoner only steps away and waited for sleep to collect them.
Chapter Seven
The Brutes roused Regan from his sleep with the sound of horns and celebration.
Oh, that’s right. Today’s the day I die.
Arkei was already awake and standing just outside the door of the hut. She stood as if it was her role to be a guard. Regan appreciated the gesture, making it seem as if he was more important than he really was.
He thought of how she’d be disappointed when he fought his first battle today, when she saw what his real-life fighting skills were like.
He also realized how much she had on the line. If he failed today, then it didn’t just mean the end of him, but it meant that Arkei was empty-handed in fulfilling her debt to Mephistopheles. After all, Bob—her first captive—had been rendered useless. And this would mean having to go back to Earth and kidnap yet another human, a risky and illegal task.
Regan turned and loo
ked at Straya, still in her small cage in the hut’s corner. She was looking at Regan with intrigue. She wasn’t trying to hide it from him.
Regan knew that she too had much to lose pending his battle. It would mean her freedom. Even though she was a prisoner Regan knew that whatever the Brutes would do to her in captivity would be worse than the way he and Arkei treated her.
Beyond his own fear, Regan felt the urgency of the battle today for the first time. Others were depending on him. He had to win.
But he had no idea how to do it.
Arkei noticed he was awake and rushed in to see him. She took his hand in her own.
“Today is the day,” she said. “Do you know what weapon you’ll use?”
Regan hadn’t even considered that aspect of this whole mess. His mind went to one of the guns they took from the pirate ship, but he doubted such weapons would be allowed in a fight to the death. This would be personal. This would require strategy and strength, not just pulling a trigger.
But before he could answer, Arkei offered her own opinion.
“The metal club you almost attacked me with in your home…” she began.
The baseball bat.
He had some experience with swinging it. He knew the weight and knew his range of ability when it came time to use it.
He admitted to himself that he had never used it on a living thing before, but at least he had a frame of reference for handling the damn thing.
“Let’s go get it,” he said.
As he stood, Arkei nodded toward Straya, as if asking what they should do with her.
“Let her come with us,” he said. “But keep her bound.”
Straya seemed grateful for the order and nodded at Regan as he exited the hut.
On the ship, Regan swung the baseball bat several times in the air. He swung it hard and gripped it in different places. He felt its weight in new ways. It meant something different to him now. It was the weapon he had defended his apartment with on Earth, and it would be the weapon he’d bring to battle on this planet now. This bat was meant for this day.
Galactic Bandits Compilation Page 5
