by Jay Key
The bounty hunter paused to take a deep breath.
“And the crowd. When I was engaged with my opponent, the noise dissipated. It just went away. I knew it was there, somewhere, but I couldn’t tell if they were for me or against me. It provided a spark of adrenaline, but also, counter-intuitively, it gave me clarity of mind.”
“And your opponents?” asked the Psitakki.
“I hated every second of every fight. I was doing this for what? A Shield? I was hurting other life forms for a trophy? It made me sick. But I kept fighting. The only thing stronger than the illness that the Tournament caused was my desire to win it. For every gut-wrenching moment, there was a smile; for every fleeting instant of joy, there was a sidesplitting sense of agony.”
Duke looked up to the ceiling, his eye moistened by tears.
“I see,” said Grozzel, his voice cracking.
“You don’t believe that garbage,” cackled Admiral LePaco. “Really? You can’t honestly take that seriously. I have the Shield. I was there. He’s just—”
“Admiral, please,” interrupted Grozzel. “This man here—”
“Is a liar? A charlatan? An idiot?” interrupted LePaco in turn.
“This man here is a fellow champion. He is a brother.”
“And that makes you an evil bastard,” added the Timorian.
The ninety-nine warrior about-faced to point directly at LePaco and his contingent of Four I’s soldiers.
The admiral simply shook his head. “I guess you lot are equally as thick as LaGrange. You could’ve been my elite guards, my detail; now you’ll just be dead.”
He tilted his forearm, aiming the device at the champions.
The rebels began to spill over the barricade protecting them from the Four I’s assault. They stormed past Duke and joined the ninety-nine warriors, filling in the gaps and creating one sweeping mob, readying themselves for a final charge against LePaco’s force. The injured bounty hunter felt a firm, comforting hand on his shoulder.
Thanks, Ish.
Another hand rested on his other shoulder. He turned and exchanged smiles with the beautiful Neprian, Ja’a. Behind her was Lilly, supporting the recovering Queen Joe.
“That was beautiful, what you said, Duke,” said Ja’a. “I don’t know if I’ve ever heard you speak like that before.”
“I made it up,” replied Duke with a smirk. “The sand just felt like... sand.”
“You’re an ass,” said Queen Joe.
“I agree,” added Ja’a.
“But I can’t think of a better ass to stand beside me at this moment,” said Joe.
“I agree with that even more,” Ja’a replied.
“That means a lot, don’t get me wrong,” replied Duke, “but if LePaco figures out how to fire that thing with anything more than light, none of this matters.”
It wasn’t the Queen or Duke or Lilly that led the charge. A roar from within the ranks of the ninety-nine warriors signaled the advance. But then it was a collective shriek from the combined force that signaled their sudden stop.
A bolt of green energy shot from LePaco’s arm, darted over the heads of the rebels, and blasted through the ceiling of Cyborg Joe’s. Constant bombardment from an entire armada of battleships couldn’t make a dent on the exterior of the famed watering hole, but one whizzing beam of emerald light from the weapon ripped a hole in the ceiling big enough to survey the entirety of the Keltian sky.
The rebels were mostly sprawled out across the barroom floor, many lying on the ground. Admiral LePaco’s eyes bulged. The Key, protruding from the Orb, was radiating the same green as the laser. The color then migrated to the Orb itself. Then the Shield.
Joe looked over at Duke, Ishiro’shea, and Ja’a. Her body was trembling; had she not been held in Gartoshian clutches, she would have collapsed.
“It’s powering up.”
Chapter 31
Of Penguins and Blenders
“I GUESS THIS IS WHERE I would insert my villainous diatribe of power, right?” said Admiral Lothario LePaco. “But we all know how that sort of thing typically ends.”
The weapon on his forearm pulsed rapidly, its glow turning Cyborg Joe’s interior a rich shade of green. No color was spared. Even greens became, somehow, greener.
“So, without further ado,” he continued, “I’m going to blast you all from the very fabric of this existence and into your inter-dimensional graves. I would say it’s been a pleasure and that you put up a good fight, but we all know that wouldn’t be an honest assessment. LaGrange, you were pretty much as expected but I did think you, Queenie, would provide more resistance. I guess I didn’t realize how powerful I really am.”
“For someone that wasn’t going to start the clichéd, long-winded bad guy speech, you sure are starting a clichéd, long-winded bad guy speech,” jabbed the Nova Texan. “You remind me of your half-brother.”
“Are you sure pissing him off is the best approach, Duke?” whispered Lilly.
“Probably not but it’s just so natural,” answered the bounty hunter.
“Fine, LaGrange, I’ll hurry up and get on with killing you and your friends. And I bid you all farewell.”
The admiral lowered himself, his legs sprawled out to brace himself against the recoil of the weapon.
“Again, LaGrange, I bid you, the Queen, and everyone else fare—”
The blast came from the opening in the ceiling. It wasn’t exceptionally loud, or bright, or green. But it was accurate. It struck LePaco’s forearm, forcing the maniacal criminal to the ground. He partially released the weapon, but not before he commanded it to serve up another surge of emerald devastation. Once again, the beam entered the Keltian night sky—this time through the preexisting opening. However, LePaco’s fall caused the beam to clip the edges of the gaping hole. And the unknown shooter. Ceiling fragments exploded into the air and tumbled down to the floor of Joe’s, bringing with it the heroic warrior that had winged the admiral just as he was about to wipe out the last vestiges of hope for the universe’s survival.
The marksman hit the ground unceremoniously, coming to rest amongst the debris. He was sprawled out, motionless and clinging to life.
“Dallas.”
Even as Duke’s brain raced to digest the situation, LePaco was up, appearing to have shaken off any damage caused by Duke Dallas. He made his way to his feet and soon located the weapon, a few paces away. The admiral reached for it but was tackled by a tiny blur. A tiny blur named Yumi Nobunaga-Flaherty. She had broken free. LePaco regained control rather quickly and threw Ishiro’s mother to the ground. But was then met with a slightly larger blur, the Father. He wrapped the admiral in a tight bear hug and flung him to the ground. The Father then pounced on the crazed overlord, fists raining down on the turtled LePaco. It wasn’t clear how many of the haymakers were connecting solidly but it probably didn’t feel good.
Yumi dove on top of the weapon, acting as a human shield between it and the admiral. She was only slightly larger than the device itself.
The Four I’s soldiers came to the aid of LePaco, prying the spry Irishman from their leader. He fell to the floor—landing next to his wife, still guarding the weapon. The admiral drew his pulse pistol and aimed it directly at Ishiro’shea’s parents.
“I think you have my weapon,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his eyes filled with white-hot fire.
A loud crash rang through Cyborg Joe’s. It was the sound that a penguin makes when you put it in a blender—then drop it on a landmine.
Oh, that familiar sound.
Duke LaGrange, Nova Texan bounty hunter and playboy, was holding his beloved out-of-date Widowmaker sonic shotgun. It was aimed where the admiral once stood. But Ol’ Betsy made sure that the admiral was no longer able to stand. In fact, he was no longer able to do anything that had the prerequisite of being alive. Duke LaGrange had just killed Admiral Lothario LePaco.
Time seemed to stand still; ages seemed to pass.
It was the Hilterian ambas
sador, Lutra, who broke the silence, shouting, “Let’s go!”
Grozzel; Eux-Auhr-Herx; the ninety-seven other past champions of the Tournament of the Shield of the Colossal Calamari; Lilly, the anthropomorphic musk ox from one of the moons of Gartosh; Lutra, the Hilterian sharpshooter; and Gha, a feisty Goother Rat from Gurlf joined a mix of Keltian freedom fighters and other alien volunteers and charged the disciplined squadron from Intergalactic Infrastructure Improvement, Incorporated.
The Four I’s soldiers attempted to flee outside of Cyborg Joe’s—but were cut off by even more Keltian defenders, a legion of Hausen-Ra, Gartoshians, Sabromms, and other species that had just taken out the remainder of LePaco’s ground force. Hovering in the air above, visible through the gaping hole in the ceiling, was the Deus Ex Machina, flanked by the victorious fleet of Earth and Gartoshian ships, led by Maxx Gemstarr.
The Four I’s were overwhelmed.
Duke rushed to the pile of debris that covered his father. He began to cast away fragments of wood and stone with the strength of eight T’ckuvians. Ja’a joined him. The amount of debris left in the wake of the weapon’s blast was enough to bury an entire colony of three-headed ice wombats. The duo soon cleared away enough to make out a humanoid form.
Duke continued digging until a face looked back at him. And though he’d only seen that face for the first time in adulthood a short while ago, it was part of him. It was his DNA. It was a mirror into his future. It was his father.
“Dad, Dad!” Duke screamed. “Can you hear me?”
“Now you call me Dad?” said Dallas faintly with the slight hint of a grin on his battered face.
“How did you—Why?” the bounty hunter stammered.
“Stop, Lafayette. Stop. I don’t have much time.”
“We’re going to get you out of here,” Duke pleaded.
“Stop. Please, stop.” He looked to Ja’a. “Pretty lady. Tell him to stop, please.”
The Neprian clasped Duke’s hand tightly, her other hand gripped his forearm.
“We can get you out—”
“Lafayette, stop and listen to me. I’m dying. So shut up and let me talk.”
Duke tried to fight back his emotions. His jaw quivered and his vision grew blurry as salty tears burst from his eyes.
“I’m glad that I sent you back. I know you had a hand in this.”
“How’d you survive the attack back on Tardasio 5?”
“Most of us survived. Who knew that BHU and organized crime could work so well together. Maybe a little too well. But we did the opposite of what everyone predicted. When our backs were against the wall after that sneak attack, we fought harder. We laid waste to that entire planet. The Four I’s won’t be able to produce a construction paper hand turkey with what we left. Then I got a message from a guy claiming to be your best friend. A guy named Maxx.”
“Maxx, he’s a—Never mind, it doesn’t matter.”
“He said you’d say something like that.”
“However you got here, thank you for saving me. For saving us.”
“It’s the best that I could do, Duke. I spent my entire life not doing the best that I could do, with you in particular. I’ll never be able to make that up.”
Duke Dallas’ voice trembled and he began to cough. A single stream of blood fell from the corner of his mouth. “I never planned on it being like this, but I should tell you about your mother. I owe you that.”
“No need, Dad, I knew my mother. She died a long time ago on Nova Texas.”
A river of tears cascaded down Dallas’ cheek and washed away much of the blood.
“Trix was a great woman. I wish you would’ve had more time with her, Son. I really do.” He paused. “But, if you do want to find your biological mother, I would start your search on Omarellia. I don’t know if she’s still there or if she still answers to ‘Juni,’ or even if she’s alive, but that’s where I would start. But beware… You probably don’t want to know. If it were up to me—and I know it’s not—I would leave it alone. But it’s not and you deserve the right to make that decision, despite what I say.”
“Thank you,” replied the bounty hunter. “Thank you.”
“And one last thing, Son. I know I don’t deserve a last request but if you can find it in your heart, I would appreciate it.”
“Yes, anything,” stammered Duke.
“Bury me. Bury me on a planet that’s—” He stopped, his coughing increasing.
His lungs are filling with blood, concluded Duke.
“Yes, Father.”
“A planet that’s peaceful. I’ve only known violence. War. Criminal activity. The death of innocent beings. Bury me on a place that has moved beyond war and death. Or one that wants to. Somewhere untouched by guys like LePaco and criminals like Hefty.”
Ja’a strengthened her grip on Duke’s arm and rested her head on his shoulder.
“I know the place,” Duke said. “You’ll love it. Sweeping plains dotted with glass-like ponds. Majestic mountains like you’ve never seen, protecting vast valleys. And you’ll get a kick out of this: they have winged panthers flying around everywhere. There are swamps, full of life and diversity. There are forests, dense forests. And caves… Oh, are there caves.”
“What’s the name of this paradise?” asked Duke Dallas, his voice reduced to a whisper.
“They call it Neprius.”
“It sounds wonderful, Son. It sounds—” Duke Dallas’ voice trailed off as his last breath exited his body.
“It’s wonderful, Dad. I once thought it was nothing but a primitive, backwards world. But now I know it’s the most beautiful place in the whole universe.”
As Duke sat motionless on the pile of rubble, he noticed Ishiro’shea race to his parents. The ninja removed the mouth covering on his mask and the recognition was instant. All three burst into tears as they embraced. Despite the emotional ordeal that he had just experienced, Duke smiled.
Just next to the feet of the reunited family, still glowing a radioactive green, were the Key, Orb, and Shield. The hobbled Queen Joe made her way to the trio and extended a firm hand to Ishiro’shea’s parents. She hugged the ninja with as much emotion as his own parents did. Ishiro’shea picked up the weapon and handed it to the Queen.
She closed her eyes. From around her hands, the obsidian smoke that typically signified one of her stormy lightning assaults began to fill the air. It formed into winding tubes, weaving around the weapon. The intensity of the artifacts’ glow faded until they appeared inert and harmless.
Joe fell to the ground, dropping the weapon. The three artifacts broke apart, scattering to encircle the inter-dimensional being lying on the floor of her bar.
She exhaled deeply, as if she had been holding in her breath for an eon.
Chapter 32
Another Round of Whisky
“WE CAUGHT THIS ONE TRYING to escape,” said Grozzel the Great, holding up a battered Mazilda Cloax by the neck, her feet dangling in the air. “I think she just woke up. What should we do with her?”
“Just kill me, you bastards,” she said through cracked lips matted with dried blood.
A bruise extended from her ear, across the bridge of her nose, and halfway down her opposite cheek. Grozzel poked it with his long cephalopodan finger. The assassin writhed in pain. The Psitakki giggled. “She’s feisty.”
“Duke, thoughts?” asked Queen Joe. “I feel that this is your call.”
“What’s your plan, Grozzel? Where are you guys headed now?” asked the bounty hunter.
“We all discussed it and the only place that we’d feel at home is Psitakki. Some of us have been away for a million years. Having the arena and the Psitakki people there will help to ease our transition, we think.”
“I’m sure we’ll be celebrities,” added Eux-Auhr-Herx, his chest puffed out and his chin aloft.
“Most definitely,” concluded Duke. “How about you guys take her?”
“To Psitakki?” blurted out the Queen.
&
nbsp; “Yeah, there’s a Chief Interrogator General that will know what to do with her,” said the bounty hunter. “Just tell him that Duke LaGrange said to be as creative as possible.”
“Sounds fun,” replied Grozzel. “We’ll do it. And, if I haven’t said it already, it was nice meeting you, Duke LaGrange. Now we know all one hundred victors. I don’t think we ever thought this day would come. It’s provided some much needed closure for us.”
Duke removed his hat and placed it against his chest. “I’m humbled to have met all of you. Thank you for your help and for trusting us.”
“You made a compelling case with your speech. Very compelling. It sent chills up and down my old spine.”
Duke smiled and shook the Psitakki’s hand.
He then approached his former love. Mazilda’s gaze, even with one eye swollen, was harsh. She opened her mouth but Duke closed it with his finger. She didn’t fight back.
“No, you’re done talking,” he said. “I knew I had bad taste in women. Like really bad. Epically bad. But I thought you were different. I beat myself up, over and over and over for cycles, for letting you go; wondering how different my life would’ve been with you in it. And I was right to think you were different. You were worse than anyone else that I’d ever met. Way worse. Goodbye, Mazilda.”
The bounty hunter kissed her on the cheek, putting just enough pressure on the bruise that it caused Mazilda to cringe in pain.
Duke turned to Ja’a, who had been watching the exchange curiously, and flashed her a wink.
“You are awful at picking women, Duke LaGrange,” she said.
“What does that say about you?”
Queen Joe was sitting at the bar. The three inter-dimensional artifacts rested on the counter before her.
It’s odd seeing the Queen sitting down on one of her own barstools, thought Duke.