“Bugs on a Ring” fan-fiction (Patreon)

Every now and then I get a crazy idea for a story that I don’t write because “What the heck would I do with that?” Perhaps it’s a short story without a place to submit it, something that I could never turn into a novel, or maybe it’s something that violates canon.

The other day, I was in a chat when someone asked, “Suppose I had a button, and if you pressed it, you’d get a hundred thousand dollars, but someone you knew would die. Would you do it?” Unsurprisingly, none of us were takers, but then he followed it up with a much more tantalizing question: “Would any of your main characters?”

My main characters tend to be nice guys and even if desperate for money, I couldn’t see them risking a loved one. The other authors felt the same way, except for @WyattWinters. He figured that Stitson would do it, just for a chance to kill Atresia.

I love Stitson. He’s such an asshole. If you don’t know, he was the main character from a short story in our anthology called, “Bugs on a Ring”, and I got the pleasure of working with Wyatt to turn his draft into a real winner. If you haven’t read it, do yourself a favor—head over to my shop at https://gre7g.com and pick up the eBook. Read it first, then come back to this. I’ll wait.

Done? Great.

So needless to say, I wanted to write a scene about Stitson and the button, but what could I do with such a thing? Rick Griffin and I agreed that we wouldn’t add magic, the supernatural, or telepathy to the Hayven Celestia, so I can’t publish this…

But that’s what makes Patreon so great! I get to share this with you instead. Enjoy!

———

M’reza got me back to my ship and I got the fuck off of Narata as fast as my engines could carry me. She let me go! She was gonna see me hang for what I’d done, and she let me go. I laid on my bunk and stared at the dry splatters on the ceiling.

Yeah, yeah, gross, I know. But that’s how life in zero-g can be when you don’t always have a tissue handy.

Anyhow, I stared at the ceiling and contemplated my fate. I was gonna live and she—like me—now wanted that bitch of a governor, Atresia, dead. Life sure takes some funny turns. One moment I’m beating myself up for being … well … me, frankly, for hurting M’reza more than anyone had ever hurt someone they cared about, and the next…? Well, that cute lil geordian gal was looking for revenge in a more reasoned, rational way than I had ever managed.

Had I … ruined her somehow? Had my awfulness rubbed off on her? I sure hoped not. I have a history of fucking up everything I’ve ever touched, but I was really hoping to change that. M’reza was so … perfect. She was gentle and kind. She cared about people she’d never even met before. If I could ever hope to be a better person, I wished I could be a little more like her and a little less like me.

Not to mention that feline ass of hers was really bangin’.

I sighed wistfully as my ship hurled through the void. Maybe she didn’t hate me quite as much as I thought. Maybe there was some crazy timeline out there where she and I end up together. That would be so heavenly.

I had just started working on my next ceiling stain when I smelled something strange… “Sulfur?”

“I prefer to call it brimstone,” said a stranger’s voice. I looked over and he was sitting at my table, sprawled back in one of the chairs like he owned the frickin’ place. He took one look at the swollen member in my paw and looked away. He put up his weird, hairless paw to block the view, in case he turned back. “No, no, no,” he said with a nervous chuckle, “don’t let me interrupt you.”

“Who the fuck are you and what the fuck are you doing on my ship?” I screamed. I had been in such a hurry to get off-planet that I hadn’t taken the time to check the shuttle for stow-aways. I had Old Faithful aimed at his red head before he even saw me move.

“There’s really no need for that, Mr. Stitson,” he said.

I boggled. I gasped. My mouth opened and shut like a hranza eel that couldn’t get enough air. But the stranger didn’t seem the least bit worried about me killing him. And while I was reeling, trying to recover from the shock of this weirdo knowing my name, I might as well take a moment to describe what this jack-off looked like.

He was a big guy. Not broad, but tall and smooth. Seemed like the sort that could talk his way out of any jam. Tall as a geordian, so maybe twice my height, but mostly hairless. Red skin, blue eyes, black eyebrows, neatly cropped beard, small black horns on his forehead, and the strangest excuse for ears on either side of his head. Most of his body was wrapped in a suit of some sort, but not something bulky like a spacesuit. No, this was much fancier, much classier—black jacket with a white shirt beneath—and two small hooves peeking from the legs of his pants.

“How,” I finally gasped, “do you know my name?”

“I know everything about you, Mr. Stitson,” he said with a grin. “But that’s not important. What’s important is what I can offer you.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” I groaned as I climbed from my bunk. “The last time I accepted a gift from some whack-job freak, I managed to kill a whole frickin’ planet. Well, most of a planet, at least.”

“I know,” he said. “A real nasty bit of business with those bugs. But you don’t have to worry about killing tens of thousands—like you did on Narata. No, this little gem is made for killing only a single person.” And with that he took a metal thing out of his pocket and set it on the table. The device was a little dome that was smaller than my fist and made of tarnished brass. Inset in the top was a black button that reminded me of a nipple.

“Oh yeah?” I asked quietly. I lowered my energy pistol slightly, not actively threatening him with it but nowhere near ready to put her back in her holster.

“Absolutely, Mr. Stitson,” he said, showing too many teeth. “You see, if you were to push this button, it would kill someone you know.”

I stared at him for many long seconds, blinking, waiting for anything he had just said to make sense before I finally managed to utter, “Wut?”

The stranger laughed long and hard. He slapped the table—though I noticed, not close to the button itself. He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

“Please, sit. Sit,” he asked. “Sit down, and I’ll explain.”

I pulled back the chair opposite from him, set Old Faithful beside me—but didn’t take my paw from her—and eased myself back in the chair. “Okay, I’m sitting. Now explain. Who does this thing off when you push the button?”

The stranger grinned and laid one hairless paw on top of the other, then leaned in closer, conspiratorial. “There’s no way of predicting. That’s how it was designed.”

I guess I must have looked pretty confused, so he explained, “You see, if you were to press that button, it would make a list of every living person you know, scramble them up, and then pick one at random. That’s who it would kill.”

I sat there with my jaw slightly open for the longest time. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Is it?” he asked, still grinning too wide. “You see, I’m not talking just about your friends. No, this little beauty takes a list of everyone you know, regardless of whether you love them or hate them. Everyone. It takes that list, picks one at random, and kills them.”

A little light shone above my head and I felt a warmth trickle down my spine.

“Everyone?” I asked.

“Everyone.”

“Even…” I thought out loud. “Even if that someone … was a krakun? The governor of a planet?”

“Everyone,” he said again, grinning even harder. “No matter what species they were.”

“Whoa,” I whispered, taking a moment to sit way back in my seat. “That’s quite a thing.”

“It is indeed.”

It would kill someone I knew, randomly! Imagine that. I didn’t like many people. In fact, it was truly rare for me to like anyone at all. So statistically speaking…

But still, random? What kind of madness was that? And how could such a thing possibly exist? But still, if it did exist … would such a thing be worth taking the chance? I mean, only a few hours ago, I was willing to throw my own life away just for a chance at killing Atresia … and this thing might do it?

Might.

I looked back up at the grinning stranger. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch, Mr. Stitson. Just good old-fashioned luck. Do you feel lucky?” he asked. “Do you suppose your time has come, that it’s time for the dice to finally fall your way?”

“Uh-huh,” I muttered. I didn’t like the sound of that, but… “And the cost?”

He shook his head. “No cost. You push it or you don’t. I keep this little number on a shelf in my office and only bring it out when a truly interesting client comes my way. And you, Mr. Stitson, are a truly interesting client. What you did on Narata intrigued me, so I had to let you try it. Mostly I just wanted to see what you would do.”

“Uh-huh.” I could stand looking at his ugly face any longer, so I stared at the button instead. It was right there, only centimeters from my paw. I could do it. Just move my paw, push the button, see what happens. Maybe it was time for the dice to fall my way.

I started to shake my head and the stranger seemed surprised. He arched an eyebrow. “Really? You don’t want this opportunity? I promise you; it won’t come around again.”

I stared at the button some more.

“Oh, why the hell not?” I put my finger on the little plastic nipple and with a firm press, I felt the thing click.

Then I sat back in my seat and crossed my arms over my chest.

The stranger across the table stared at me with his mouth wide open, staring. Then he covered both paws over his mouth and howled with laughter.

I could feel my ears slowly dipping into a smile. His laughter was really infectious, but as I was opening my muzzle to ask him what was so funny, a second stranger appeared.

And by “appeared”, I mean appeared, I mean that literally, like “poof”, out of thin air!

The second stranger looked much like the first. Green eyes instead of blue, no beard, and his clothes—although not shabby—looked much less formal than the first. He seemed to be dressed more casually.

“The fuck?” I gasped.

“Hey man,” said the second to the first, “you left this on my desk.” And with that, he lifted a cheap golden cup mounted on a lacquered wooden base.

“Actually,” said the first stranger, “that belongs to Mr. Stitson here.”

The second stranger looked at me, then looked at his buddy, then looked at me again. “No way. He pushed the button?” He chuckled, but when his friend nodded, he set the trophy down on the table in front of me. Then he opened a folded wallet that he took from his jacket pocket and spent a moment rummaging through the contents before pulling out a colored slip of paper. “I’ll be damned,” he laughed. “Twenty credits, as promised.”

“Thanks,” said the first as he took the money. “Friday, for drinks?”

“Friday! But you’re buying the first round,” laughed the second. He spared one last look at me, shook his head once more, then he disappeared as mysteriously as he had arrived.

“What the actual fuck is going on here?” I shouted, scrambling to my paws.

“This is your trophy, Mr. Stitson. For the stupidest man in the galaxy,” he said. He leaned forward slightly, adding, “It’s a travelling trophy, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t destroy it. I’ll need it back next year so we can award it to someone else. No one has ever won it two years running.”

“The fuck?” I screamed, grabbing Old Faithful once more. She trembled in my paw as my body filled with rage. Oh sure, I’d be called worse plenty of times—often by people I actually liked, but today … today was not the day for me to put up with that shit. I had fucked up more today than in every other day of my life combined and I didn’t need some halfwit in a suit talking down to me because I’d done exactly what he told me to do!

I was just about to level Old Faithful at this weirdo when a third stranger popped into existence where the second had stood. This one looked like the other two, but his clothing seemed finer, fancier. From the way that the first guy stiffened and held himself at attention, I figured this new arrival was important.

“What the fuck is going on here?” I shouted. “Is this my ship or the Trailways space station?”

Ignoring me, he said, “Haagenti tells me that Stitson pushed the button.” He didn’t introduce himself.

“He did, sir.”

The newcomer took a quick glance at me, nodded, and returned to his conversation. “Nicely done. I came to give you this plaque.” And with that he handed his subordinate a glossy rectangle of wood with an engraved metal plate affixed to the front.

That got the first stranger up off his seat. “Employee of the year? No way!” he shouted.

“You earned it. Keep up the good work.” Then, glancing back at me, he added, “Both of you.”

The new guy disappeared as the other guy collapsed back in his seat, staring at his award.

The moments ticked by until I could take it no longer. “What the fuck is going on here?” I screamed.

The smiling guy looked up from his prize. “Well, you killed M’reza, of course.”

“What?” I gasped; my voice barely audible.

“M’reza, that geordian gal. You killed her by pushing the button.”

“No…” My pulse beat a deafening rhythm in my ears, blocking out the rest of the galaxy. My head spun slightly, and I turned to look at the hateful thing on the table. “I… I… B-But what about Atresia?”

“The governor of Narata?” asked the stranger with a sly smile, as if he’d been waiting this whole time just to ask. “Do you … know her?”

I looked back and nodded, but that only made his smile turn darker. “Oh really? You’ve met her?” he asked. “You know what she looks like?”

My muzzle was opening and closing on its own again, gasping for air.

“You don’t know Atresia,” he said. “You didn’t even know her name until M’reza told you. You just wanted revenge on a krakun, and you heard there was one running the ring-world. She was never someone you knew.”

“But… But…” I fell back in my seat and stared at the cursed thing in front of me. “What… What… What if I pressed it again?”

The stranger rolled his eyes. “It wouldn’t do anything. You don’t know anyone else, Stitson. M’reza was it.”

“What? No!”

“Your old crew,” recounted the guy, “dead. Your family, dead. You don’t know anyone. There was never any question who it would kill because the gal you were crushing on was the only person you actually knew.”

“Wait! Wait!” I gasped in a full-fledged freak-out. I scrambled for an escape. “W-What about that lio guy! Yeah! That crazy lio guy with all the injuries—the guy who gave me the bugs in the first place! The button could have picked him.”

“You knew him, huh? What was his name?”

I racked my brain, but the guy had never said. “What about… What about that geordian guy?” I grabbed my head with both paws, trying desperately to think my way out of this crisis. “The guy with the … the uniform and the key card?” What the fuck was his name? “M’iki! M’iki! I know his name! His name was M’iki. What about him?”

The stranger shook his head, trying not to smile too wide. “Dead. Eaten by bugs.”

I stared, gasping.

“You don’t even know my name, do you, ringel? Face it, you’ve met tons of people in your lifetime,” he said, “but the only ones you ever got to know were your crew and M’reza. Your crew is long gone and so now is your would-be girlfriend.”

He picked up the trophy off the table and thrust it into my chest. I don’t know why I took it. I was numb, drifting.

“And that’s what makes you the stupidest man in the galaxy.”

He smiled again, adding, “This year, at least.”

———

Perhaps I should do fan-fiction of other stories I loved? What do you guys think?

Reviewer's link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1z28Z7hs62KrI91UMpiE_SGRHNYRffAJ7_mW742YL48c/edit?usp=sharing