At that very moment, I was struck with two conflicting instincts. The first was a standard 'fight or flight' reaction, urging me to get the hell out of the hotel- or, barring that, to make sure that Mr. Kao got blown up again. Unfortunately, with the great deal of firepower in the hands of the guards, and my own lack of armament, neither one of these options were available.
The second impulse was centered on Helen; the less that can be said about that it, the better. I'm sure you can figure out the gist of it on your own. Suffice it to say, Helen was quite an attractive girl- one that I had seen in the nude before, no less. Thankfully, this wasn't the case in this particular situation, as I doubt that I would've been able to think clearly if she was. As the situation was, I couldn't think too clearly anyway, befuddled as I was by shock. Thankfully, Helen broke the uncomfortable silence hanging over the dining room like a shroud.
"Hi Jim."
The dam of disbelief broken, a barrage of words issued forth from my mouth, unleashing a torrent of questions. "What the hell are you doing here? You shouldn't be here- Kao's a madman! Wait, no- You're related to Kao? Why didn't you tell me that earlier? What the hell are you doing here? And what am I doing here?" I paused, sucking in breath as to provide oxygenated ammunition for my next verbal salvo, only to be cut short by a wave of the hand by Kao.
"It's simple, Mister Hawking. Helen wants to get married."
"Married? Then why the hell am-" That's when it hit me. Hard. "…Damn."
To put it simply, at that moment, I'm fairly certain that my brain broke. I can't clearly remember the time period immediately after that statement, as I was completely stupefied by the revelation. There I was, inside a slanted hotel that I shot my way out of months earlier, held at gunpoint by a man I thought that Gene blew up in the same incident, being told that I was supposed to marry a damsel who I saved from an unpleasant fate as a sex-slave some months earlier.
Somehow, during my state of nigh-unconsciousness, someone had placed a glass of a strong-smelling amber colored liquid in my right hand. Booze. I drank, draining the entire glass in a grateful gulp. Somewhere in the back of my mind, enough cognitive processes kicked back into gear to note I just slammed down some of the best damned whiskey that I had ever tasted.
Another part of my brain told me that I shouldn't have been drinking in such a dire situation.
I didn't listen to either. I set the glass down, only for one of the suits (with his gun neatly strapped across his back) to pour me another drink, which I promptly drained in a similar fashion to the first. For a third time, the glass was filled- but I chose not to drink it down in a single gulp. I planned to just sip at it, that's all. The strength of the liquor kicked my thoughts back into gear. Throat raspy from the scalding liquid, I managed one word.
"…Pardon?"
"It's simple. Helen wishes to marry you."
So much for glass number three. I shot a questioning glance to Helen, who meekly nodded in a far-too-girlish manner for my liking. It was entirely out of place in the situation.
Fingers tightening around my glass, I glanced around, warily. Too late, I realized that the liquor I slammed down moments ago could've been drugged, poisoned, or laced with any number of nasty compounds. With a sigh, I consigned myself to such a fate (if I had indeed been poisoned) and fell back on one of the few weapons left in my arsenal: sarcasm. "You know, I'm not exactly sure how different things are in this neck of the galaxy, but it's usually not proper custom to attempt to kill the potential groom before you drag his unconscious body back to your place before you propose."
"I never thought you'd be such a stickler for tradition, Mister Hawking."
"You'd be surprised."
"Allow me to explain." Kao sighed, swishing his own drink in his glass as he gestured. "I owe you, Mister Hawking, for saving the life of my niece, Helen. A rival businessman- A C'tarl C'tarl, to be exact, kidnapped her in order to gain some leverage over my holdings. I wasn't sure what to do: Helen is, sadly, most of the family I have left these days. But, before I was forced to make any fateful decisions, you so graciously waltzed in and single handedly killed an entire ship full of slavers- including my cattish rival. An impressive task, indeed. Of course, such dashing, heroic actions will have certain…effects on a girl, won't they, Helen?"
Helen nodded, still smiling demurely at me. Somehow, she didn't seem to notice the men with guns posted in each corner. Go figure. "Jim, ever since you saved me from those evil men, I've been wanting to…thank you…but I never got the chance." Which was entirely true: I was comatose for a good amount of time after that particular escapade; fighting a C'tarl C'tarl in single combat will do that to a guy. "And, well…now that my Uncle's gotten you here…I can!" she giggled- actually giggled –as she went on. "I know you've had a hard life, Jim: you are an Outlaw and all that. But now, you don't have to worry about that anymore! Once we get married, you won't have to worry about being poor and getting shot at and rescuing damsels! We'll settle down on a nice resort world and have a bunch of children and you'll never, ever, ever have to worry about all that nasty Outlaw stuff again! It's the best way to thank you for all you've done for me, after all." she let out a contented sigh as she went into her domestic fantasy, firmly convinced in the fact that it'd pan out.
I had to talk. I had to talk her out of this scheme. "Don't you think we're taking things a little…fast? I mean, we're both young, and we've barely known each other for very long. And…I'm not you're type! Too Scruffy! Too unsophisticated! Too…Short!"
"Oh, my Uncle Kao told me you'd say that. But that's okay! He told me that I'd have to be quick about marrying you, before you could wind up flying to another planet and get yourself killed or something. And of course you're scared about it right now…but once it's all over and done with, I know you'll learn to appreciate it. And now that we've found you, we'll have the ceremony tomorrow! …Once we get you cleaned up, that is." She giggled again; a pleasant sound, but hardly comforting in this situation. "You'll just look darling in a tuxedo. I know it."
From his place at the head of the table, Kao smiled. It was hardly a pleasant expression; instead, his grin bore all the semblance of a victorious predator having cornered its helpless prey. It's at that moment that I really realized what Kao's motives were hardly benevolent on his part. He could've cared less about the feelings of Helen, misguided as they were.
I began to wish that Mr. Kao had just taken me here to detail some evil plot, or even an interrogation session. I'm used to that sort of thing. I sipped at my whiskey to knock a little sense back into myself, concentrating on the burning sensation as it made its way down my throat. I wanted to run, to escape, to go back to the standard, relatively carefree life of an Outlaw; the kind of life where one has to worry about people trying to shoot at you, not the world of diapers and PTA meetings.
Settling down is possibly the worst thing that could happen to a proper Outlaw. Outlaws often don't talk about the subject; it's just that terrifying. If an Outlaw meets his end by getting lost in space, or by getting shot full of holes by a crew of pirates, one can expect that he'll be properly memorialized by his associates in a night or three of drinking to his memory. But to merely submit to a mundane life of generic domestic-ness? It's unheard of. (This isn't to say that an Outlaw can't get married; it's just that there is usually some sort of extenuating circumstance to justify it; and even then, it's better when both parties are Outlaws themselves. Just balances out better.)
In less then twenty four hours, Mr. Kao planned to effectively erase any and all notoriety of Jim Hawking the Outlaw, transforming him into Jim Hawking, the Family Man.
Never had a more fiendish plan ever been hatched in the realm of revenge. And at that very moment, nothing could be done about it. Well, almost nothing.
"…Could I have another drink?"
