Galactic Bandits Compilation

by Duke Campbell

  Arkei explained to Regan that domes like this one allowed many species to survive the environment, regardless of the air they breathed. The entire area was a series of streets and pathways, lined with storefronts. Some storefronts were tent-like, while others were more stationary. Some even looked like magazine stands common in Earth cities.

  Various species roamed through this area and made deals with others. The deal-making was aggressive too, with many vendors pushing customers around and vice versa. Regan even saw two fights break out over apparently stolen goods.

  “It’s a tough place,” Regan said to the ladies, thinking out loud more than anything.

  “A warrior like yourself shouldn’t worry,” Arkei said.

  Straya was leading the group to the contact she had. She led them down several walkways and kept telling them, “It’s just a little farther.”

  Regan noticed something else while walking around this place: the smells. Some of these huts or vendor stands had goods that smelled horrible, like grease or gasoline or other repair-related chemicals. But there were also some huts that had amazing smells. Regan saw various foods being cooked and though he couldn’t tell what they were, it was tantalizing to his senses.

  He instantly became hungry.

  I gotta stop forgetting to eat. Too much sex and battle, not enough food.

  But these thoughts were cut off as two large bionic dudes intercepted them. Regan thought they looked like soldiers, or maybe cops. Either way, they each carried a large weapon that looked like a laser gun.

  Whoever they were, they were not to be screwed with. One of them blocked the pathway in front of them and the other stepped out behind them. They had the group trapped. Whatever they wanted, Regan and company would have to hear it.

  “Straya, been a long time,” the bionic mercenary up front said. “What brings you back here?”

  “Well, I was actually on my way to see Bulkey,” she replied.

  Both bionic musclemen laughed at her reply. “Yeah, I’ll bet you were,” the one up front said.

  “Who are you?” Regan asked, maybe louder than he intended to.

  The large bionic grunt looked at Regan right over Straya’s head, as he was that much taller. He smirked a bit, then he looked back at Straya.

  “Your man is impatient with his questions,” he said to her.

  “His name is Regan,” Straya said. “And he is a warrior. He even bested the Brute King.”

  Well, that’s the best introduction I’ve ever received.

  But the bionic grunt just laughed.

  “Well, Regan,” he said. “You may be what she says you are, and you’re clearly impatient to get wherever you’re going, but we’ve grown impatient too. Straya here owes us quite a lot of money.”

  “I told you,” Straya said with more directness in her tone. “We’re on our way to see Bulkey now.”

  “After all this time, huh? Why?”

  Straya looked him straight in the eye. “That’s between me and Bulkey.”

  “It’s not gonna be pretty unless you got his money,” the bionic muscle warned.

  “I got it,” Straya said, and lifted the bag she had brought from the ship. “Now you can either lead the way, or we’ll just continue as before.”

  Both bionic grunts chuckled a bit, then they waved the group to continue walking. They followed closely behind.

  Reverie was nervous. Regan could tell by the way she got close to him as they walked. She took hold of his bicep.

  “It’ll be fine,” he whispered to her.

  I hope it’ll be fine.

  Bulkey, the black market merchant, sat behind an iron desk with an impressive collection of hardware behind him, and two more bionic mercenaries at his flanks.

  Regan didn’t know what any of these materials were, but judging this pile by others he had passed on the walk here, this Bulkey guy had quite a collection.

  The two bionic grunts who led them there stood behind the group as they approached Bulkey. Straya was out front.

  “Hey Bulkey,” she said, her friendly tone obviously fake. “I was just on my way to see you when two of your asshole grunts started hassling me.”

  Bulkey laughed. His voice had a deep chuckle and his large cheeks vibrated when he did so. His red eyes squinted at her, and his teeth reminded Regan of a shark’s.

  “On your way to see me, huh?” he asked with a chuckle. “You pirates are all the same. Liars and thieves, only honest when it suits you. So, tell me, after all this time of avoiding me, why now did you decide to visit?”

  “I came to repay the debt,” Straya said.

  “Bullshit,” Bulkey replied without hesitation. “You need something.” He looked over the rest of the group and frowned in surprise. “You keep strange company these days. Stranger company, anyway.”

  “Yes,” Straya began. “Well, my life sort of took a turn when my pirate ship was destroyed and my entire crew killed.”

  Bulkey shrugged, hardly feeling sorry for her. “What did you expect? The life of a pirate is a short one. But I’m not interested in sob stories or excuses. You borrowed 50,000 doubloons from me. And I—”

  Bulkey stopped speaking, eyeing Regan as he started laughing at the word ‘doubloons.’

  “Seriously?” Regan asked. “Doubloons?”

  Arkei leaned over to him and said, “It’s the universal currency.”

  No one was sure why it was funny, especially Bulkey.

  Regan realized that perhaps ‘doubloons’ was the best word the Universal Translator could come up with.

  “Your human seems to think that amount of money is laughable,” Bulkey said, angrier this time.

  Regan didn’t like the tone this guy was taking with Straya. He fired back quickly, maybe too quickly.

  “I’m not her human,” he said. “She was my prisoner. And that’s why she wasn’t able to come and pay you back. But we worked that out, so now we’re here to make it right. You’re welcome, by the way.”

  Regan realized then that he wasn’t sure exactly how long Straya owed the money, but either way, he wanted to get an upper hand somehow. He wanted to put this black market punk in his place.

  Bulkey frowned again.

  Straya acted quickly and set a bag on Bulkey’s table. It was a collection of jewels given by the Brutes after Regan’s victory. Beforehand, she had made sure that it equaled her debt—with some extra change to sweeten his mood.

  However, Bulkey wasn’t interested in the bag. He fixed his eyes on Regan.

  Arkei tried to intervene, gripping Regan’s forearm and whispering in his ear, “Maybe lay off the machismo with this guy. He doesn’t seem to respond well to it.”

  But Regan just tapped her hand. He kept his glare on Bulkey.

  “Well, well, well,” Bulkey said. “It’s true what they say about the human species. Feisty and combative. Ready for battle at a moment’s notice. I’m impressed. But you know what I’m not impressed by? Your attitude.”

  Bulkey stood from his seat and leaned over the table, still looking at Regan. He lifted the bag that Straya had placed before him, but he didn’t look inside.

  “I’m assuming this is the 50,000 that I’m owed,” he growled. And then, without consideration, he tossed it behind him onto a pile of valuables. “But I’m also assuming this doesn’t count interest!”

  “Oh no—” Straya started but was cut off as Bulkey raised an arm and projected his voice louder.

  “Which in this case,” Bulkey continued louder than before. “Is an additional 50,000 doubloons!”

  You gotta be kidding me.

  “And since you claimed to be responsible for the late payment, you undocumented scoundrel, you will be the one to pay it back!”

  Many thoughts raced through Regan’s head. He realized he was treading in dangerous waters now, and had gotten himself here in a hurry. He also thought of how much additional treasure they had on the ship. The Brute King’s sword perhaps could do the trick.

  “I th
ink what you’re asking is unreasonable,” Regan started, taking a step forward. “But I have many jewels, treasures, and weapons that could be valuable to you, so I’m sure we can come to an agreement before my next request.”

  Bulkey started laughing.

  “I’m not finished,” Regan said. “We’ll come to an agreement on this so-called interest, then I’ll purchase a Universal Translator chip from you. After that, we’ll be on our way.”

  Bulkey sat back down and looked at Regan closely. His face was closer to Regan’s now, and when he exhaled, Regan could smell his foul breath.

  “You don’t understand, little human,” Bulkey said. “I don’t accept interest in the form of additional gold. I accept it only in the form of sport.”

  Shit. I’ve been kicking ass all around the galaxy. I can handle whatever you throw at me.

  “So what is it? Another fight to the death?” Regan asked, his tone almost bored.

  “That’d be too easy for you,” Bulkey replied. “Which is why it won’t be that type of sport. Something more for an educated mind.” He leaned even closer and grinned. “Something where a weapon will do you no good.”

  What is he talking about? What’d I get myself into this time?

  Bulkey stood up. He pointed to the ladies standing behind Regan, and quickly his bionic grunts restrained Straya, Arkei, and Reverie.

  “They’ll watch the game from my table, while you play for Straya’s interest. If you win, then so be it, but if you lose… then their lives belong to me.”

  “That’s pretty ridiculous. Even you have to admit that.”

  “This is my realm. We play by my rules.” Bulkey gave a toothy smile. “Now follow me to the table and let’s get the game started.”

  Regan had no choice but to follow. He wondered what this game would be, if there was any Earth equivalent he could draw experience from, or if he was downright screwed. But he reminded himself to stay focused. He had worked his way out of many situations before. What was one more?

  Chapter Fourteen

  The bionic men led Regan into a dingy room down a hidden alley. It was smoky in this place, with several tables set up in the center. It was dim too, with Regan barely able to see the entire place. His eyes would adjust, but the initial scene made him nervous.

  He felt eyes watching him from the dark corners of the room. He didn’t trust it.

  They took the ladies to a small sofa inside the VIP section. Bulkey sat with them. He ordered drinks for them all without asking if they wanted anything.

  Again he was in a situation where the lives of Arkei, Straya, and Reverie were in his hands. He didn’t like it.

  This jackass couldn’t care less about money. It’s all the same. Sex and power.

  Regan assessed the place a bit more as he was being led to a table. Then it hit him. It was a bar. It was a grimy, dark bar. And the tables were full of what looked like gamblers. But these weren’t cards like Regan knew them. Or dice. Still, the concepts seemed familiar.

  They pushed Regan into a seat across from a dealer who was a small wrinkled green woman with scruffy hair and a set of eyeglasses that were pitch black. Regan always thought it was cheap when players sat down at a gambling table wearing sunglasses. Dealers included.

  But he had to be careful. He didn’t know what type of game this was or how dealers worked here.

  “You are the second human I’ve had at my table,” the dealer said in a soft and scratchy voice, like she’d been smoking since birth.

  Regan wondered if that was really true. “I’m surprised that another found their way this far from home.”

  The dealer chuckled. “This was as far as he made it.”

  Another player sat down at the table. He was small and sharply dressed. He had three arms, one which held a drink that he never set down. It had a long straw that stayed put in his mouth.

  “They told me you’re my challenger this evening,” the player said, taking sips between words.

  “Seems so.”

  “Name?”

  “Regan.”

  The player smiled.

  “I’m Kassat,” he said. “And this table only works for me. I know this game. You humans are known for your barbaric brutality. Well, that ain’t gonna help you here. This is a game of sophistication.”

  “That’s what I hear,” Regan replied. “How about telling me what it is?”

  “It’s called Toker,” the dealer said. “And it’s a game involving five slats.”

  Regan blinked.

  This game isn’t just poker but with a ‘t,’ is it?

  As the dealer described the game, Regan couldn’t help but notice the similarities. Slats were cards. The suits all had comparable looks and feels. Even the name of the game was eerily similar.

  As the dealer continued to explain the rules, Regan had a tough time seeing any differences at all. Even the numbers and letters were the same as poker, which Regan chalked up to the Universal Translator. It was as if the game had originated from yet another space-faring human who came long before him.

  Well, shit. Regan knew the game!

  But he couldn’t let on that he did. Clearly they assumed he knew nothing. They thought that battle and war was all he knew, all he cared about.

  “May I ask the origin of the game?” Regan asked.

  “Getting nervous about playing a civilized game?” Kassat chuckled, taking a long sip from his drink.

  The dealer looked at Bulkey, who nodded his head. She then turned toward Regan. “The origin is unknown. It has been translated into various forms in this part of the galaxy, but it’s very rare.”

  This part of the galaxy my ass. This game is a rare as a drunk sorority house.

  With that, the dealer began to deal the cards. Regan noticed right away that even the way the dealer distributed the cards was the same. She alternated between the two of them, starting with Regan. Once they each had their five cards, they picked them up, and the game began.

  But it would be a short one. The dealer noted in the rules that they would simply play one hand. The winner of that hand took the game. No rebuttals. No arguments. They probably put this rule in place to make sure one couldn’t get a feel for the game before they lost. Too bad for Bulkey, Regan already knew this game.

  Arkei, Straya, and Reverie watched from Bulkey’s booth. Their drinks had arrived, and except for Bulkey, none of them had touched the glass before them. They were too focused on watching Regan in his new contest.

  Regan realized that they too didn’t know he could play this game. But he could tell from their determined eyes that they all trusted him enough to not question his abilities.

  Good.

  Regan lifted his cards, or rather, slats.

  Straight poker. No hold ‘em. I dig it.

  “You make the first move,” the dealer said to Regan.

  Regan had to force himself to play it cool, but he was already tired of being used as a pawn in this place. He thought about hiding his skill set, seeing how long he could hold out, but what if he did the opposite? What if he just came out swinging?

  After all, he only had a single hand.

  “Two cards,” Regan said and slid two to the dealer. They were each told that they were only allowed a single trade. A single hand, a single trade, and a single winner.

  Regan’s quick action surprised Kassat.

  “My my, the human thinks he knows a thing or two,” Kassat said. “I’ll take four cards, start this whole run over and give my challenger a leg up.”

  Kassat slid four cards across the table, then Regan put his hand up. He knew that you could only trade in four cards if you had an ace or a wild card, and no wild card was mentioned in the rules.

  “I know that you can’t trade in four cards without having an ace,” Regan said. “And I just want to be clear that we’re sticking to the rules.”

  Kassat, the dealer, and Bulkey all looked at Regan with surprise. The dealer glanced at Bulkey, who simply shrugged and said, “
Them’s the rules.”

  “Well…” Kassat started, then paused, unsure what to do. It seemed that bluffing wasn’t quite the same here as it was on Earth. Either that, or Kassat just sucked at it.

  Kassat pulled all his cards back and instead traded in two cards.

  Regan smirked. Whether he had an ace or not, Kassat wasn’t happy with his cards. Meanwhile, Regan was sitting pretty with his. Though it was far from a perfect hand, it definitely offered him wiggle room.

  And since this game was only going to be one hand, he had to go with it.

  But then Kassat’s face changed. His worried grin became a twisted smile as he reorganized his cards. He looked sharply at Regan, then took a sip with his third arm.

  “I got you beat, human scum,” he said.

  “Then lay it on me,” Regan replied.

  Kassat laid down five cards and set apart two pairs. He had the equivalent of two kings and two sevens.

  While Kassat snickered and shot Bulkey a large smile, Regan laid down his cards.

  Right away Kassat jumped out of his seat. “Kings are higher than jacks!” he shouted, pointing at the hand.

  Regan smiled at him and stayed seated.

  “That’s true,” he said. “But three jacks are worth more than two kings.” Regan then separated the jacks more evenly to make sure the situation was clear to Kassat.

  And Kassat realized it then, finally setting his drink down. It seemed he was counting on that deceitful card trade to get him out of this one, and that strategy probably always worked—until today.

  Even the dealer was a bit nervous and turned back to Bulkey, who again shrugged. Scumbag that he might’ve been, he at least could admit when he had lost.

  “The human has won the hand,” she finally announced.

  Bulkey stood up. He looked down at Regan, his expression unreadable.

  Until he finally smiled. “The women are yours and Straya’s debt is clear. It wasn’t the outcome I wanted, but at least I got a good show out of it. Follow me back to my store.”