How to Save the Universe with a Drunk Space Ninja

by Jay Key

  “Po’l!” shouted Duke.

  The Neprian looked up and smiled. “It’s about damn time, LaGrange,” he yelled back. “Everyone, this is Duke LaGrange and Ishiro’shea.”

  “Yes, I know who he is,” said Gha mockingly. “He’s the almighty champion of the Tournament of the Shield.”

  “Good to see you too, Gha,” Duke said, extending his hand. Somewhat reluctantly, the Gurlfian shook it. “How ‘ya feeling after the Tournament?”

  Gha’s hands moved to cover up bald patches in his fur, presumably from when he was zapped by Maxx Gemstarr’s power gauntlets. It was clear that he was still self-conscious about the blemishes.

  “Have the Four I’s made their way to Gurlf?” asked Duke.

  “No way,” snapped the Goother Rat. “I doubt they know that we even exist.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “I like to fight.”

  “Fair enough. And who do we have here?” Duke said, extending his hand to the Hilterian female.

  “I know who you are as well, Mr. LaGrange,” said the Hilterian, batting her eyelashes. “My name is Lutra. I believe that you knew two of my relatives, Turla and Arlut.”

  Not good, thought Duke. Whatever I do, don’t mention MechaBurgers. Nothing about MechaBurgers.

  “Those names don’t ring a bell, I’m sorry,” he said. “But it’s a pleasure to meet you. And I mean ‘meet’ as in make your acquaintance. Not ‘meat,’ like a MechaBurger.”

  Lutra’s eyelashes fluttered at an accelerated velocity.

  “Thanks for your service,” Duke said hastily. “And these two strapping young bucks?”

  The Psitakki duo bowed slightly.

  “We know who you are as well,” said one of the cephalopodans. “Duke LaGrange—a bounty hunter.”

  “Oh, were you guys at the Tournament?”

  “Yes. And I must say, the way that your bout with Gjrazzel went down wasn’t—”

  “He’s a tough bastard,” interjected Duke, knowing full well where this conversation was headed. He turned to the green-skinned Keltians. “And I’m assuming you two know who I am as well?”

  They shook their heads and replied, “Nope.”

  “Wonderful. I’m Duke LaGrange. And this is Ishiro’shea.”

  “We gathered that,” said the male Keltian.

  “We really should get back to strategizing,” added the female. “It was nice to meet you, Duke LaGrange. Now, if you would excuse us...”

  Duke didn’t know whether to be insulted or relieved. “Actually, I was hoping to grab Po’l for a minute. We need to chat about a few things.”

  Before the Neprian had a chance to reply, a slim Keltian interrupted. He was panting heavily. Must be a scout, concluded Duke.

  “Sorry to barge in, but they’re here. They came. An entire warship full of them.”

  Duke glanced around the room. All faces were frozen, eyes wide and mouths agape.

  “I’ll be damned,” said Gha, breaking the silence.

  “This should help our ground defenses substantially,” Lutra added.

  “Duke, this is huge,” Po’l began. “I’ve never seen one but, from what everyone here has said, we just got a much-needed boost to our force.”

  “We already know about the Gartoshians,” said Duke. “Lilly went up to help the Queen with communications.”

  “The Gartoshians are here too? On our side?” Gha asked.

  “Yeah, ten thousand of them, stationed on the other side of the planet. Even brought a few ships along,” replied Duke.

  “This just keeps getting better,” said the female Keltian.

  “But then who are y’all talking about?” said Duke, puzzled.

  An erratic clanging noise drew Duke’s attention to the back of the compound. The warehouse doors raised, revealing a cave.

  That must be the back entrance from the surface, surmised Duke.

  Hundreds upon hundreds of armed soldiers marched in perfectly-aligned columns through the entrance. The legion of skeletal warriors stopped their procession and raised their sabers aloft. They let out a collective primal scream that shook the very foundations of Cyborg Joe’s.

  “To go along with our Gartoshian friends, looks like we have a warship full of Hausen-Ra,” stated Lutra.

  The eager crowd of amateur soldiers and Keltian refugees rushed around the mysterious Hausen-Ra contingent, showering them with handshakes, hugs, and the occasional kiss.

  Chapter 19

  The Treaty

  “WELCOME TO MAURITIUS, GENERAL NOBUNAGA,” said the security officer outside the hangar. “May I take your belongings?”

  Takeo handed the officer his unloaded pistol, a tiny satchel of coins, and his wallet, which only contained photos of his family. The security officer continued staring at him.

  “You need my sword as well?”

  “There are to be no weapons allowed in the room, General. Even your sword.”

  “This sword has helped turn the tide of this war, son. You do know that, right? This magnificent and mysterious pendant, see it? It leveled advancing Coalition forces. It repelled invading troops. It restored freedom to areas of this planet that were being mistreated and abused by the OC.”

  “I have heard the stories, General. They are amazing tales, sir.”

  “Stories? Tales? Is that what they are, Officer?”

  Beads of sweat rushed down the soldier’s forehead. “I’m sorry, sir. I meant they are great...” He struggled to find the words.

  “At ease, Officer,” said Takeo, placing his hand on the anxious officer’s shoulder. “Here you go. Here’s my sword.”

  “Thank you,” said the relieved solider. “I promise to return it to you as soon as you exit the room.”

  “I would expect so,” said the general with a wink. He marched through the open door into the hangar bay.

  Takeo traversed the hangar, making his way to a room guarded by a dozen heavily-armed soldiers.

  I hate guns. So messy, he thought as he bowed and acknowledged each soldier in turn.

  The room was a plain metal box with no adornments or decorations, just a table and three chairs. It looked as if they had been shrunken down and locked away in a filing cabinet. An overly dull filing cabinet, at that.

  “Please sit, General,” instructed a lime-skinned Keltian female.

  Takeo sat. Across from him was the Czar of the Oceania Coalition, Arlo Sebastian Northcott. The czar’s eyes danced around the general’s face but never locked on Takeo’s gaze. Northcott had clearly seen better days.

  “Czar Arlo Sebastian Northcott,” the Keltian moderator began, “representing the Oceania Coalition and all of its subordinate territories. Seconded by the Assistant Czar, Arlo Sebastian Northcott, Jr.”

  “Present and acknowledged,” muttered the elder Northcott.

  Interesting spin on a family business, thought Takeo.

  “General Takeo Nobunaga of Japan, representing the multinational force of Japan, Ireland, the United States, India, Morocco, Poland, Finland, Mexico, Venezuela, Yemen...”

  “Present and acknowledged,” said Takeo, politely interrupting the Keltian’s reading of the thirty-five partner nations.

  “And your second, President Dougal Fionnlagh of the Republic of Ireland.”

  “That’s the grand Republic of Ireland, my good woman,” added President Fionnlagh.

  “Very well,” replied the Keltian. “Moving on. As all parties should be aware, much of the treaty has already been discussed independently and agreed upon verbally. These proceedings will finalize all elements of the agreed-upon contract and will, hopefully, usher in a new era of peace to this planet. Because, off the record, Earth is somewhat of a laughingstock in our neighborhood. So, let’s not screw this up, okay?”

  The Earth representatives looked at each other and nodded.

  For the entirety of the meeting, both men signed, initialed, and shook hands on each and every point. With the help of some Keltian ambassadors serving a
s the chief architects, the Treaty of Nobunaga appeared to be a well-crafted springboard to peace for the war-riddled planet. When the last signature from Northcott was inked on the page, the Oceania Coalition was dissolved and the war was officially over.

  Takeo stood up, bowed to the Keltian moderator and to his adversary.

  “So what are your plans now, General?” asked Northcott.

  The general smiled. “Peace, Arlo, peace. That’s what we plan to have.”

  “And how does one achieve peace, General? Do you know? I thought I did at one time.”

  “Peace by brutality and coercion is not real peace,” replied Takeo.

  “So how, then? Or are you going to make me wait and find out?”

  “First, by removing elements of evil,” the general said bluntly.

  “I guess that’s me,” retorted the former czar.

  “You know what you’ve done, Arlo. And once those that are globally recognized as ‘bad’ are eliminated, we can all be on our merry way. Independence and freedom breeds peace.”

  “If I may interject,” said President Fionnlagh. “What the general is trying to say is that once the allies decide on a strong, fair-minded leader, it will usher in a new era of peace.”

  “No, President, I didn’t mean to say that. I meant to say that every nation can focus on themselves, and figure out what’s right for their own people and culture.”

  “But General, what happens when a great threat like the czar here—”

  “Former czar,” corrected Takeo.

  “Yes, like the former czar here, rise up. A bunch of secluded tribes can’t stand up against that.”

  “With all due respect, President, this is not the time nor place to discuss these things.”

  “Not so easy, is it?” chimed in Northcott. “It all starts with a seemingly insignificant disagreement. And your magic weapon can’t help you with this, General. In fact, who’s to say that I don’t have someone out there trying to steal your precious sword as we speak?”

  “That would make me pretty angry,” said Takeo. “I love that sword. It’s a family heirloom, you know.”

  “Screw the sword, what about the weapon?” shouted the president. “I’ll go look for it. I have my guys out there.”

  The Irishman dashed to the door, swung it open, and disappeared as it closed with a twang.

  “Relax,” said Arlo. “I’m not that crazy. How did I lose to you morons?”

  “I’m not that stupid, either,” replied Takeo with a wink. He tapped his chest, where something made a faint protrusion under his shirt.

  “The ol’ decoy,” smirked Northcott. “Very sneaky.”

  “Good luck with your exile, Arlo. I hear that where you’re going is nice this time of year.”

  “No, good luck to you, General. Good luck with convincing those power-hungry politicians that are still on a high from winning the war that they should hitch their buggy to your winning horse. That we should all go back to happy, mind-our-own-business pockets of civilization. You’re going to love it.”

  The former czar and his son exited the room.

  “He’s right, you know,” said the Keltian moderator. “I’m not sure that your brethren believe in independence as much as you do, Nobunaga. They have power in their hearts. Not freedom.”

  “They will see the light and their hearts will be filled to the brim with freedom.”

  “I hope you are right, General, I do. And I hope that they get it before it’s too late.”

  Chapter 20

  Hope

  “YA’ KNOW, LITTLE BUDDY, I wish I woulda said ‘no’ to Po’l when he asked to come with us. I feel that we just got him killed.”

  Ishiro’shea appeared to consider this, but offered no sort of indication as to whether he agreed. Duke was used to this tactic, which forced him to review the words that had just left his mouth. On most occasions, some alteration was required to his initial thought.

  “But it was his choice,” he added reluctantly. “How could we have predicted this?”

  Damnit, he did it again, thought Duke.

  They walked back into the main bar area of Cyborg Joe’s. The Queen and Earl were in conversation behind the bar. Keltians, Hilterians, and a few Psitakki milled about and appeared to be engaged in “war things.” The bounty hunters sat on the two stools closest to the Queen.

  Joe looked up and addressed them before Duke could ask a question. “Bigger than you thought, right?”

  “What?”

  “The force. More people came than you thought, right?”

  “I didn’t really have a number in mind...”

  “The Four I’s and LePaco’s goals mean an end to everyone that doesn’t offer up their resources—their people and their freedom—to their cause. We didn’t pay these people. We didn’t force them into military servitude. We just asked. In some cases, we didn’t even have to ask.”

  “Queen, I’m not challenging the reason that you’re leading this resistance. We’re part of that resistance, in the larger sense. I’m just saying that a pitched battle on this already-injured planet, with a makeshift, bandaged-together army against a much larger, fresher, and finely-tuned operation isn’t the right way to move our cause forward.”

  “You still think that I should run?”

  “Yes. Legions of Hausen-Ra and Gartoshians aren’t going to take out two-hundred-plus spacecraft packing the most advanced life-elimination devices,” argued Duke. “The Orb is our most precious resource.”

  “You’re wrong, Duke. Our most precious resource is hope.”

  The bounty hunter rolled his eyes. “You’re too good for tired old clichés and motivational tactics. Hope is good. It doesn’t win battles.”

  “Remember when I told you that if something isn’t worth fighting for, it’s not worth having?”

  “I thought it was ‘Anything without a cost isn’t worth having,’ or something like that.”

  “Close enough.”

  “I’m not saying that our freedom isn’t worth fighting for... Just not fighting for right now.”

  Queen Joe’s face scrunched.

  “So, why now?” asked the Nova Texan.

  “This is my fault. I let these weapons surface, and two of them fell into the hands of someone as dangerous as any Flying Rot. This is our best chance—no, this is my best chance—to right the wrong.”

  “Why?”

  “All three items could conceivably be in the same place at the same time.”

  “Which also means that LePaco has the ability to get ahold of the missing piece to his plan for universal domination.”

  “It is a risk.”

  “I can’t be part of this,” huffed Duke. “This is going to get a lot of good people killed. Did you even ask the others if they agreed with this plan? Did you give them options?”

  For the first time in as long as Duke could remember, the Queen seemed to not have a retort. As hard as it was for Duke to believe, she seemed flustered.

  Cyborg Joe’s began to rumble and shake. A chain of ear-bursting explosions followed. Everyone hit the ground.

  “Everyone to the bunker,” commanded Queen Joe. “This is it—the assault is on!”

  “Ish, think we can make it to the parking lot?” Duke yelled. “We have to get out of here. We can do a lot more damage to LePaco from the Deus.”

  He began to head towards the back door but the ninja grabbed his arm, yanking him almost to the ground. Ishiro’shea shook his head.

  “We can make it...”

  The barrage escalated until there wasn’t a single pocket of dead air, just one long, extended kaboom.

  Duke sighed. “The bunker it is.”

  Beyond the training stations, the annex of the main bunker was now filled with more people than just Po’l and his colleagues. Duke didn’t recognize the newcomers, save the Queen, Earl, and an anthropomorphic musk ox from one of the moons of Gartosh.

  “Ishiro’shea! Duke!” screamed Lilly. “They said that you
two were here but I didn’t know if I’d get to see you.”

  “I wish it was for a different reason,” responded Duke.

  “Don’t we all. Yvonne spoke very highly of you two. Sounds like that was quite an adventure on Psitakki.”

  “Without a doubt. What’s going on out there?”

  “As predicted, the Four I’s have begun an assault on Cyborg Joe’s—well, all of Oldish Kelt, really—to try and knock out our ground-to-air defenses.”

  “The joke’s on them,” interjected Gha, the Goother Rat, “because we don’t have any ground-to-air defenses. They’re just wasting energy and ammunition.”

  “Not exactly a sustainable strategy,” replied Duke.

  Gha sneered and went back to his conversation with the pair of Keltians.

  Duke turned to the Queen. “Will this bunker hold?”

  “It will, Duke,” she replied. “And the other bunkers will hold, as well. When the battle comes to the surface, we will be ready.”

  “Why would they ever bring it to the surface? They’ll just bomb us until we run out of food, drink, or hope.”

  It was clear that the Queen didn’t appreciate that last jab from the bounty hunter. “You think we’ll run out of drinks? This is a bar, isn’t it?”

  The laughter was proof that the Queen had deflected the query perfectly. Before Duke could respond, she cut him off. “Do you think that our entire strategy, which is built around forcing them to face us in a ground battle, was discussed and agreed upon without us having a way to actually get them to the surface?”

  “Well, no, but—” the bounty hunter stuttered.

  “Lilly?” The Queen gestured to the musk ox.

  “Yvonne and the Gartoshian force on the other side of the planet will engage LePaco’s fleet,” said Lilly.

  “And get mauled. Lilly, there’s no way that two dozen of your fighters can overcome a ten-to-one disadvantage. Even if you take out half of their fleet, they’ll just wait until they overwhelm you and resume bombing us down here. I feel this strategy is still without realistic expectations.”