How to Pick Up Women with a Drunk Space Ninja

by Jay Key

  “Ja’a, no! You can’t do that! They might be simple, but they did try and help me! I know they’re good people that can help us.”

  “I wish I shared that same optimism, Uu’k.”

  “So, Ja’a, what if Ishiro and I agreed to help you?” Duke paused as Ishiro’shea kicked him in the back again. “We can help you take out some of the Northerners and get to Orbius. We can strike a deal. Hell, we have to get our ship back anyways to get home. I don’t have time to wait around for your lot to invent space travel.”

  “I’m sorry, Duke. Your weapons are too powerful and we are too few in number. With what I have seen—the General Gar episode aside—if I give you the weapons, you can kill us too easily. There is nothing, outside of Uu’k’s belief in you, that can make me agree to that. Our elder leaders maybe—but not me.”

  A loud scream permeated through the cave. A Southern tribesman stumbled backward into the room and collapsed. He had a Neprian javelin lodged in his stomach.

  “Ja’a! They found us!” screamed Po’l. “One down. We’re outnumbered! Ten to one!”

  Po’l let loose an arrow from his bow. It whizzed through the cave and out into the unknown.

  “Hurry, Ja’a!”

  A crackling of rapid-fire ‘dings’ filled the air as the pointed tips of Neprian javelins crashed against the stone exterior of the cave.

  “Hey, guys. I have an idea!”

  Ja’a and Po’l both looked back at the smiling bounty hunter.

  “Shut up!” Po’l shouted. “Can’t you see that we’re under attack? I don’t have time for your plans.”

  Another spear entered the opening of the cave hideaway and skipped across the rocky floor before coming to a stop near to the cage that held the two bounty hunters.

  “Uu’k, go hide behind the cage! Okay, Duke. What do you got?”

  “Seriously, Ja’a? Are you crazy?”

  Another javelin whizzed by Po’l.

  “Their aim’s getting better, ya’ know,” smirked the Nova Texan.

  “What do you propose, Duke? Make it fast!”

  “Well, first off—make Po’l apologize.”

  Ishiro, for a third time, kicked Duke squarely between his shoulder blades. Duke responded with a laugh lacking anything resembling panic.

  “What?” screamed Ja’a and Po’l in unison.

  “You’re insane!” continued Po’l.

  “Give me my guns and this will all be over,” Duke responded in a calm cadence.

  “You just want those guns so you can escape.”

  “Partly—yes. I don’t want to be killed in a cage on a primitive third-rate planet by some malnourished priests with really big needles—so escapin’ has crossed my mind. It’s kinda funny if you think about it.”

  “What is?”

  “You’re worried about us killing you if we escape—but if you would’ve never caught us, maybe they would’ve never tracked us here. So, either way—we killed you. Sorry, bud.”

  “Duke, I want to help you—but this is ridiculous.”

  “Ja’a, wait a second. Hear me out.”

  “Hurry, we don’t have much time to hear you out,” Ja’a responded.

  “They’re closing in,” shouted another rebel from just outside the entryway. “We’ve taken a few out but we’re running low on arrows. We didn’t pack to fight off a full squad of Northerners.”

  “Duke?”

  “Okay, you don’t trust us, right? Give us a chance. Let us out—give us our weapons. We’ll get y’all out of this jam. Or try to, at least. If we survive, we promise to go with you to meet your council and see if we can help your cause. We’ll give you a chance to persuade us.”

  “That’s it?” shouted Po’l. “You need us anyways.”

  “And why is that?”

  “You don’t know how to get to Orbius’ fortress up north—where your ship is.”

  “True, but—”

  “No ‘buts’. He’s useless, Ja’a. I’m going to end this.”

  “Slow down, Po’l.”

  Po’l headed over to a patch of dirt and stones along the inner wall. He kicked aside some of the chunkier rocks and picked up the Widowmaker sonic shotgun.

  “Hey, get your hands off Betsy!”

  “Or what?”

  “Ja’a, look, you better warn him. This is not advisable. If we die here, not only do we, ya’ know, die but our weapons end up in the hands of your enemies. Even if we ran out on ya’, at least our guns’ll run out on Orbius’ minions too.”

  “I’m tired of this guy. I’m going to end it.” Po’l examined Betsy. “Doesn’t look too hard,” he muttered. “This is how I saw that moron do it before.”

  “I can hear you.”

  “Something like this.”

  “Is that a question? Not a lot of confidence, huh?”

  “Shut up!”

  Po’l marched to the cave opening and pressed his back against the rigid wall. Veins protruded from his neck all the way down to his pectorals, which were visible above the rounded neckline of his chest plate. Dude needs to chill. Never a good idea to operate a Widowmaker sonic shotgun when you’re this tense.

  “I know what I’m doing. I’m not one of those Northerners.”

  Po’l held the gun and pointed it in the right direction. Okay, he’s one better than Delix. Betsy’s butt rested comfortably on his cheek.

  “Yeah, I wouldn’t hold it that way—”

  The roar from Betsy filled every crack and crevice of the cave; the sound waves ricocheted like a pinball in a rubber-lined hallway. Debris fell within the dwelling; small pebbles doing their best impression of a light rain. Duke heard Uu’k's scream from behind his prison. That had to rupture an eardrum—assuming they have eardrums in those giant head flippers they’re sporting. Poor kid.

  Then silence. The athletically-built Neprian rebel lay halfway between the entryway and the makeshift jail cell—motionless.

  “What happened in there?” a watchman shouted from just outside the cave. “Tell Po’l to fire again! All he hit was a tree! They’re preparing another volley!”

  Ja’a slid to where Po’l’s body had been launched after his ill-advised handling of Betsy.

  “Po’l! Are you alive? Answer me! Please!”

  She shook him—no response.

  “Uu’k, get me some water. Quickly, child.”

  Uu’k ran and grabbed a leather pouch and filled it with water. She delivered it to Ja’a, cupping her hand over one ear. Yep, ruptured. Dumb-ass, Po’l.

  “Is he alive, Ja’a?”

  “I don’t know. I think so. Answer me, Po'l!”

  She lifted his face. One side was completely blackened and seared by the gun; blood flowed steadily from the left side of his mouth. His eyes remained closed, already morphed into deep purple mounds of swelling.

  The familiar sounds of Neprian javelin tips hitting the façade returned. The rebel fighters retreated to the confines of their bunker.

  “What are you doing? We can’t let them in here!”

  “Ja’a, we can’t hold them off out there. They’re picking us off one by one. There’s too many.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Look, Ja’a—we’re beat. We have no chance. Let’s have our stand and take out as many of those bastards as possible.”

  “Heroic," smirked Duke.

  “No time for your quips! We probably have a few minutes before those priests are on top of us. How many are left?”

  “We took out a good number. So, maybe twenty or thirty.”

  “How many do we have? Just everyone in here?”

  “Afraid so.”

  Po’l moaned.

  “He’s alive! Uu’k, get some more water! Uu’k? Where are you? Uu’k!”

  Two more javelins bounced into the cave.

  “Help me move him!”

  Ja’a and one of the watchmen helped drag Po’l to the side and propped him up alongside the walls as he continued to unleash wails of agony.
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  “Okay, grab your arrows—let’s pick them off as they make their way in. One at a time. When we're out of arrows, we’ll fight at close quarters. Just like we trained. Understand?"

  “Yes, Ja’a!” the soldiers replied in harmony.

  “Let’s make sure Orbius and his brainwashed lackeys remember us this day.”

  The five Neprian rebels formed a wall a few paces from the opening. They readied their bows.

  “Don’t waste a shot—let’s drop them all!”

  “Where do you want me? Betsy doesn’t like hanging out in the back, ya’ know.”

  The bounty hunter stood behind the line with his beloved firearm resting on his shoulder, propped up by his left arm. In his right hand he held his laser revolver. Ishiro’shea stood a step behind him to the right, his sword in attack position.

  “How—”

  “Ja’a, no worries. We’ll take care of this.”

  “But how—”

  Ja’a turned back to face their prisoners’ recent residency.

  “Uu’k! How could you? How did you?”

  “Please don’t be mad, Ja’a. The keys flew off of Po’l when he tried to use Duke's weapon. I just picked ‘em up and let ‘em out. I know Duke and Ishiro will help us. I trust them. I just know it!”

  “Smart kid.”

  “They’re about to penetrate,” shouted a rebel solider, turning the line’s attention back to the battlefront.

  “No worries.”

  “So you said,” retorted Ja’a.

  The first shadow crept across the cave floor—gaunt, emaciated, and possessing an elongated instrument of puncturing prowess. In a fluid dance of muscle memory, Duke sheathed his revolver, transferred Betsy to his right hand, and lined up his shot. She let off a scream of epic magnitude. As quickly as it appeared, the Neprian shadow was no more. Betsy returned to her Ootrelian home.

  “Ishiro, that should be enough confusion to take these stooges out. Let’s do it.”

  The two bounty hunters entered the cloud of smoke caused by Betsy’s blast, Duke with laser revolver drawn, Ishiro’shea with katana at the ready.

  “Goodbye…”

  "See ya’…”

  "Can’t run, buddy,” Duke shouted as he rattled off pulses from the laser revolver.

  His laughter cut through the gunshots.

  “How many is that, little buddy? Twelve? Fifteen? Oh, don’t run away, guys. We’re just starting to have fun!”

  Duke returned to the cave; five Neprians looked at him with stares comprised of equal parts thanks and concern.

  “Well, guys, like I was saying—no worries!”

  “Thank you," said Ja’a in a tone of disbelief. “We are truly in your debt.”

  “Even Po’l?”

  “Yes, I’m sure Po’l won’t question what you did for us today. You saved our lives. I am sorry for doubting your intentions. Please forgive us.”

  “It was nothing. Okay, it was something.” He bowed as he accepted their praise. “By the way, Ishiro, sorry that I didn’t let any more of ‘em make it up here. I know you wanted a piece, too. How many did I get? Twenty?”

  Duke turned to face his companion. In place of his emerald-clad ninja friend stood a Neprian priest warrior, battered and bloodied. Hate and revenge filled his pupil-less eyes and a javelin filled his hand—a javelin aimed directly at Duke.

  “Not if I get you first,” Duke muttered to himself as he reached for his laser revolver.

  He did not get the shot off.

  The Neprian fell to the cave floor. Ishiro’shea stood next to the corpse, a bloody katana at his side.

  “Thanks, Ishiro. I should've known that you'd get yours somehow.”

  Duke pivoted and faced the Neprian rebels again but his eyes skimmed past their collected gazes.

  “Oh yeah, most importantly… Thank you, ya’ little street urchin.”

  Chapter 17

  Mr. Sharpshooter

  “I DON’T SEE ANY,” SHOUTED one of the rebel watchmen.

  “Yeah, but some got away,” replied the Nova Texan from the entrance of the cave.

  “So?” yelled another rebel, checking for stragglers in the foliage outside of the rebel camp.

  Duke shook his head slowly and turned to Ja’a, who was tending to the slowly recovering Po’l.

  “Your team— Well, they ain’t the smartest, huh?”

  “They have heart.”

  “That organ will put you in some pretty precarious situations if you let it.”

  “Duke, I fully agree with you—we don’t have much time before they come back with an even larger army. And possibly General Gar.”

  “Bring that jackass on. I’ll finish him for good,” Duke replied, seething.

  Ishiro’shea slapped Duke on the shoulder and kept his hand clamped there in a comforting manner.

  “Thanks, bud. I’m just pissed. None of this woulda’ happened had I not missed that jerk.”

  Ishiro repeated his gesture.

  “I guess there’s only one thing to do now. Pack up and head out.”

  “And where are you and Ishiro’shea heading?,” Ja’a asked. “Though I do hope you consider joining us, I have no right to object. You’ve truly earned your freedom.”

  “Even though it took the kid over there to trust me enough to let us out, I’m still going to hold up my side of the bargain. I’ll stop by and chat with your leaders; you know what we can do and you know how to get to my ship. Seems an arrangement could be in the cards.”

  “Thank you, Duke. I do appreciate it.”

  “That’s very kind of you, Ja’a. I don’t usually have beautiful creatures like you appreciating me—” Duke paused momentarily. “—except for... ya’ know. I mean, I’ve been known to—”

  The bounty hunter was interrupted by the faint garbled cries of Po’l.

  “Oh yeah, you. I forgot about you,” Duke paused. “And it was glorious,” he finished.

  “He does add a bit of a wrinkle into our plan of a speedy exit,” started Ja’a. “I don’t think we have time to build a vessel to drag him.”

  “Definitely not. Let’s leave him.”

  “Duke! No!” shrieked Uu’k. Ishiro’shea had made his way over to the young Neprian and was doing his best to tend to her bloody ear. “I know Po’l can be mean sometimes, but you can’t leave him!”

  “Oh, alright.”

  “I knew it. I knew you wouldn’t leave anyone behind,” Uu’k said through a giant smile.

  “Settle down, kid. We still don’t know how we can get ‘Mr. Sharpshooter’ outta here.”

  “I’m fine,” mumbled Po’l. “Let me up.”

  “Po’l, take it easy. We’ll figure something out.”

  The Neprian rebel started to lift himself up with the aid of Ja’a.

  “Quick, guys. Help me with him.”

  The other two rebel soldiers in the cave flanked the injured Po’l; he draped his arms behind each of their necks for stability.

  “You two think you can get him down to the forest and then keep up with us?”

  “We’re going to try,” said the soldier supporting Po’l’s right side.

  “Or die trying,” whispered Duke to himself.

  Ja’a stared at the bounty hunter, clearly having heard his less-than-optimistic retort.

  Duke decided to change the subject. “So, how long of a trip is this to see the brains of your operation?”

  “A few days, maybe more—depending on whether the planet cooperates with us. We have to travel northwest and trek through most of the southern lands until we reach the coastline just below the land bridge.”

  “Great. Not to be a downer but, since Ishiro and I’ve been here, we haven’t had the best ‘cooperation’ from this rock. What are you expectin’, Ja’a? More priesties? Scary monsters? Avalanches and cyclones? Giant fire-breathing flying panthers?”

  “Oh, I didn’t know that you were aware of the grundar.”

  “Huh?”

  “Not many
Neprians that grew up on the southern landmass have ever seen a grundar in the wild; they are native to the northern lands. They're quite ferocious. Most that do see them don’t live to speak of their unique observation.”

  “What are you talking about? What’s a grundar?”

  “Giant fire-breathing flying panthers. Like you said.”

  “Did I ever tell you how much I hate this place?”

  “The likelihood that we encounter a grundar is slim—there are so many other annoyances that I’m more concerned about. Most notably, Gar’s henchmen.”

  “Speaking of those smelly punks, we better pick up the pace,” Duke reminded the team.

  The other two watchmen returned to the cave. Ja’a tossed them their ration bags and some additional arrows.

  “Te’o and Ma’n are going to carry Po'l for the first leg of our journey back to the coast. You’ll need to carry their bags. We can swap out every few hours.”

  “Yes, Ja’a,” they spoke in concert as they each plucked a second ration bag from the air.

  “I don’t need their help. I’m fine. Let me walk,” Po’l muttered. His words trailed off and mutated into an aching groan. “Where’s my sword?”

  The tall Nova Texan stepped in front of the two soldiers propping up Po’l. He hunched over slightly and placed his face as close to the injured Neprian’s without it actually touching.

  “I know you don’t like me,” Duke whispered, “or trust me. I’m not sure why especially, since I just saved your collective asses. If it was up to me, I'd leave your sorry carcass in this cave to be eaten alive by who knows what horrors live in this forest—but Ja’a and the kid, for whatever reason, want to save you. So, if you would keep the moaning and complaining down to a minimum, it would be much appreciated. If not, I can always give you another go-round with Betsy. You have a whole other side of your face to cave in with your excellent gunmanship.”

  “Don’t lecture me, off-worlder,” Po’l countered. “Even if you aren’t working for Orbius, that doesn’t mean I have to trust you.” He pulled one arm from around the neck of the soldier and wiped away some spittle, sprinkled with droplets of blood, from his lip. “In fact, I don’t. I don’t know your endgame and whether Orbius is involved or not, but I get the sense that you’ll screw us over without hesitation to get what you want, regardless.”