Introduction

Person 1: “Be yourself, and the right friends will be drawn to you.”

Person 2: “Reciprocate movements and mannerisms; a sense of commonality makes people feel more comfortable, which will typically lead to a more relaxed conversation.”

Me: “Err… um, excuse me, can I get another fortune cookie? This one just says, ‘go fuck yourself’.”

Chapter 4

How to Savior Ass

The pod’s main door was opened from the outside by someone who was clearly familiar with alien technology, but I had yet to see the intruder. Unfortunately, my box of dangerous toys had been emptied into the vessel’s main area during the chaos (which was… predictable) and I, who didn’t know how to work the lock, somehow trapped myself inside it.

All I remember was flopping around like a ragdoll, then everything went dark. To be honest, I thought I died for a moment, then remembered that it’s impossible to think when you’re dead and quickly realized what had actually occurred. Fortunately, I’m decently certain that all my creations are still intact.

“Hello?” a voice called into the empty chamber… in English. I remained completely silent, cursing my terrible luck and Cutlass’s handle, which had slipped out of my belt just to wedge itself between my crotch and the crate’s back wall. Ugh, please don’t turn on, I’m not sure which way the blade is facing. “If there isn’t anyone here, I’m going to take your stuff, okay?” the voice came again, followed by a defined clatter of something entering my pod.

What am I going to do? Am I supposed to just let this other random person who somehow survived the apocalypse scavenge the ship? I released a light breath as the internal debate flared inside my head, which was (apparently) a lot louder than I had intended. “Ha, gotcha!”

Oh no.

My location now revealed, I immediately wrenched Cutlass free and… caught a three-foot metal rod moving about 100 mph with my face. Thankfully, it didn’t majorly damage any equipment, though it did tear some of my mask (near the forehead), blow up a perfectly good container, and send me tumbling backwards into the wall.

“What the hell…?” my assailant mumbled, deeply confused. I cradled my skull for several moments, even though the pain had already passed—just trying to buy myself some time to think. I really don’t feel like killing someone right now… but I will if he or she starts talking about forming a partnership or alliance that involves a group of lowlifes going on a quest.

This isn’t a Lord of The Rings knock off—it’s Star Wars’ inevitable evolution to “a little while ago in a galaxy near you” with darker themes and a heavy reliance on me getting my ass kicked (you haven’t seen anything yet). If I’m being honest, the only notable comparisons I’ve seen so far are the not-lightsabers and my own shameless adoption of plot armor. Also, what’s with concussions in movies? ‘Don’t worry, he just has a concussion. He’ll be haunted by Barney the Dinosaur and probably need to wear diapers for the rest of his life, but he can still use the Power of Purpose to keep cool until after the climax.’

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” my thoughts were interrupted. It appears I’ve used up all my time digressing from the task at hand, as usual. I paused, cautiously peering up through my goggles and playing into the ‘mysterious stranger’ role that was forcefully bestowed upon me. The figure in question was much taller than me, standing at around seven or eight feet (minimum) as it waited intently for a reply.

First, I’d like to note that the weapon in use was a handheld railgun, which is theoretically capable of hurling metal at the speed of light. Nothing else, I just thought it was cool. All defining facial features were concealed under a sleek mask (like the one I scavenged from the pod, but a bit narrower), but the black skinsuit clearly outlined the alien’s gender. That is, unless this is supposed to be a male with a small dick and boobs.

Well, I fell right into a very shitty situation with my mouth wide open. Why does her gender change my plans? Shouldn’t I hate everyone equally despite their breast size? Let me explain; I don’t hurt girls because I don’t feel like it. I have no use for traditional obligations like ‘a man should never hit a woman’; this decision is based solely on the fact that I won’t because I don’t like it.

Killing her just to prove my own indifference is the dumbest goddamn display of conformity I can think of. Acting against my own interests just to fit a badass self-image is fucking moronic—I need to establish something important: I’m not against people, I just hate them and want them all to leave me alone. I have emotions; I’ve merely isolated them, giving in to their pull only when necessary to balance sanity with efficiency. One of these ‘weaknesses’ happens to involve women, so fuck you for trying to typecast me.

Another metallic rod slammed into my stomach, tearing yet another hole in Duncan mark II. I doubled over as my breath disappeared and released a series of painful coughs while trying to get it back again. “Nevermind, Earthling. I found you in the database.” The alien lowered the weapon as her obscured face turned slightly, probably distracted by a list of information... about me?

I straightened my back, slowly leaning against the wall for support while quietly studying the creature before me. Why doesn’t she have a metallic suit of her own? I guess that would explain why I could find an elastic suit that could fit me. She speaks English fluently, which is a likely indicator that the aliens had been studying us for much longer than just two days (they hovered over us for two days before we nuked them). The “database” she mentioned likely gathered information from the internet, and then connected it to their own systems—the perfect link to potentially create an ‘Alien to English’ translator.

“I required the services of an elite soldier, but all I got was another fucking human.” She casually lifted the railgun and fired another bolt into my stomach, “I’ve disabled entire ships with only this weapon, yet it fails to even bruise your flesh.” Two more shots pounded against my chest and imprinted my backside on the wall behind me. I coughed once—then twice before fully recovering and looked back up at the alien defiantly. She paused for a moment, adjusted her aim, then fired another rod at my groin.

I released a short breath and bent over, cradling my genitalia as she calmly continued, “Now everyone, including me, is going to die a horrible death. You, on the other hand…” something clicked, then a torrent of giant metal bolts beat against me, obliterating both of my Bladed Boots, all of Duncan mark II’s mask (including the air filter), and exposing every inch of my scrawny body from the waist up as well as the knee down, “…w-why won’t you fucking die!?”

Yeah, I had almost the exact same reaction at first. The mind-numbing pain quickly faded after the last round clattered on the floor, allowing me to think and respond with a certain degree of clarity. “You wanted an elite soldier, but he’s been dead for several days.” I gave a response, choosing my words carefully and using an unfriendly tone in hopes of discouraging any friendly vibes I might be giving off. Just because I’m not perpetuating this unnecessary violence doesn’t make me a potential ally.

“Chances are, you will never be able to damage me. Fortunately, all I want is to be left alone.” I leaned heavily on the wall and gradually rose to my feet, being careful to avoid being shot again. Wait, what am I doing? I don’t want to be left alone until I get a device that can decipher this weird-ass alien language, and I doubt any better opportunities will present themselves anytime soon. I need to salvage the situation quickly.

“I can provide a weapon or two in exchange for a translator—that is, if you have one. Apart from that, it would likely be in your best interest to leave.” I said, realizing how dumb I must sound but far too irritated to care. The alien destroyed some valuable shit before I had a chance to test it out, meaning any improvements I make will be based on theoretical situations rather than actual experience.

I can’t really complain, though. Based on what the she-alien said, her struggle to survive is about to end gruesomely—along with several others whom I will (hopefully) never meet. Hang on… did her posture change? The weapon is lowered completely, and her head was curiously cocked to the side as she silently measured my qualities. Good. I’m not a very pleasant person to be around (it’s my own fault, really), so this should speed things along nicely.

“Did you kill him?” she pried; astonishment evident in her tone. Perfect. “Yes,” Came my response, “I killed him.”

Now I will be marked as both a ‘threat’ and a ‘monster’ for killing the one who was supposed to save her and her people. I can live with being a ‘bad guy’ if it means people will leave me alone, and since she’s already seen how resilient I am, staying out of my way is probably the best route for her to take… unless she’s… absolutely desperate. Holy shit, what have I just done?

The railgun clattered on the floor, a loose shot ejecting from its two-railed barrel and burying itself in the far wall. “Please, I need your hel-“ her voice was overflowing with desperation, just as I had suspected, so I cut her off mid-sentence by activating Cutlass. From my hand, a ten-foot blade of yellow light pulsed as it hovered threateningly next to her mask, but she didn’t move.

“Leave. Me. Alone.” I reiterated, trying to appear more dangerous than I actually am. Fuck me, she didn’t even flinch… this looks a lot cooler in movies. “We live in a small biodome with plenty of resources—you can even have a translator if you help me.” She continued, trying to ignore the blade that was slowly creeping towards her mask.

“Please! I’m only an engineer, and the others are practically civilians! Even now, a small group of rogue soldiers are beating against the walls! If they get in, they’ll… they’re going to…” She trailed off as the narrow beam of my not-lightsaber singed the edge of her mask. Well, now I’m certain that this is all bullshit. I retracted my blade, “Let me guess, they’ll rape, murder, and pillage your… community of helpless civilians unless I play hero and kill them for you; and despite being an engineer with a semi-automatic railgun that can disable entire ships and a dome full of resources, you are helpless against them?”

The alien hesitated, and I took a step closer, “Did you think I would suffocate without my mask?” She tumbled backwards, picked up her railgun mid-roll, and fired three quick bolts in my direction. The first missed, the second glanced off my calf, and the third struck my left shoulder with enough force to flip me on my head. Adrenaline had sufficiently numbed the pain, so I was back up in an instant, calmly pursuing my target with a casual stride.

I stepped onto the soft bed (which I had yet to sleep on, by the way), staring blankly at the alien who was now clumsily fumbling backwards in terror. “Guys, get in here and help me!” she shrieked, summoning a few booming steps and two large shadows that blocked the sky as her associates bravely leapt into the gaping hole above me. Unfortunately for them, I had a ten-foot reach.

After quickly drawing Cutlass, I turned to swing at the air above me. Assaulted only by painful screams, a shower of blood, and the stench of burning flesh, I watched the first massive corpse stain my bed—he was at least ten feet tall and gruesomely split down the midline. Of the second, however, only a large, rubber-bound leg fell.

An ear-piercing scream rattled my brain, prompting me to look up at the mutilated culprit. A single leg dangled through the hole as blood and intestines poured from the other alien’s abdominal cavity. He frantically tried to pack it back in, but it wasn’t hard to recognize that he was already dead. With a flick of my wrist, his other foot dropped, which caused the large creature to bend over far enough for me to decapitate him.

I suppose it’s only fair that I kill the she-alien as well… depending on how close she was to them, living would probably be more of a punishment than a mercy, anyway. I pulled a burnt slab of muscle off my shoulder and tossed it aside. Gross. This could have easily been avoided… what was she thinking? If she had just left instead of perpetuated this fight, then there would be no need to-

“Thanks for the help, my railgun would have never made it through their armor. I owe you one.” A calm and collected voice spoke through her mask, thanking me for my assistance. That was… unexpected. Who did I just help?

“No problem—and nicely done, you really had me convinced.” I retracted my blade, then crouched so our eyes would be about the same level before continuing, “For the sake of my own curiosity, who are you?”

She sat up straight, extending a friendly hand, “I’m Rama, a pretty well-known ‘criminal mastermind’. I ran a cult for a little while, but then it got boring, so I snuck onboard an exploration ship in hopes of finding a more interesting planet. Those two were Grkasee and Ubuway, the guards who found me out.” I warily eyed her hand for a moment but eventually accepted it. What the hell, it’s not everyday you get to shake hands with a criminal mastermind (and an alien one at that).

“Cool. I’m… just weird. The mask you destroyed was known as Duncan mark II, and now I require another home—preferably one with a lot of dangerous shit.” After releasing her hand, I stood up and looked around at the destroyed room, “If you can simply point me in a direction that eventually leads to a pod (or something), I’ll call it even.”

Rama rose to her feet, wiping a few large bits of intestines off her legs as she did, “No, I don’t think so. That would violate our agreement.” I paused… something about this gives me a very bad feeling. “What agreement?” I nervously inquired. She placed a hand on her hip and the other on her chest, playfully acting offended by the question. “I promised you a translator for helping me, not information. You can’t just go tacking on demands after the fact—that’s not a fair exchange.”

I rolled my eyes and let out a reluctant sigh. I guess finding another pod on my own won’t be too hard, and I might be able to craft a few more things once I’m able to read… ultimately, this translator is infinitely more valuable than another pod. Also, I don’t really have a choice. “Okay, that works too.”

“I’m a bit hesitant to give it to a human, but you seem to be capable and… interesting enough.” She paused in a way that made me very uncomfortable, “Still, though, you have to promise that you’ll take very good care of it. A gift like is normally very expensive.” Why is she pushing this? I almost want to refuse just to avoid whatever catch is coming, but then I’d have destroyed my soft bed for nothing. “Fine, I promise. Now, where is it?”

Apparently satisfied with my relent, Rama bent forward so her mask was mere inches away from my nose, then revealed the catch, “You’re looking at her.”