We're in Space ... So What?

Chapter 1: Punchlines and Punches

The dusty, red dunes of Planet Zogin stretched as far as the eye could see, a vast wasteland of nothing except the occasional alien carcass and random bits of scrap. Judah wiped the sweat from his forehead as he inspected a battered piece of armor, frowning.

"Do you think we can sell this?" Judah muttered, his practical side showing as usual.

"It's got character," Jamie chimed in, leaning casually against their ship, the *Barely Functional*. He always found a way to use charm, even on rusted metal. "A few dents give it... personality."

Ryan chuckled, adjusting his jacket. "And here I thought 'personality' was the reason you keep that ragged coat."

Jamie grinned. "This coat has seen things, man. It's been through adventures. Ladies love a coat with a story."

Judah shook his head. "I doubt alien guts and bad repair jobs count as adventures."

Just then, a loud roar echoed from behind them. They turned to see a massive alien, eight arms, three heads, and far too many eyes, stomping toward them. It looked angry. Very, very angry.

"Uh, so... diplomacy?" Ryan asked, half-joking, half-hopeful.

"Sure, after we try a rocket launcher," Judah replied, already loading his weapon.

Jamie pulled out a small, shiny dagger. "Let me try my way first."

Judah sighed. "You always want to try your way."

"Trust me," Jamie said, flashing a grin, "aliens love jokes."

As the alien approached, Jamie stepped forward, holding up his hands like he was about to tell the best punchline in the galaxy.

"Hey! What's got three heads, eight arms, and looks like it could use a spa day?" Jamie shouted up at the creature.

The alien paused, confused.

"This guy!" Jamie pointed dramatically at the alien, trying to diffuse the situation with humor.

For a brief second, it looked like the alien might laugh. Then it roared again, louder, and swiped at Jamie.

"Okay! Violence it is!" Jamie yelped, jumping back as Judah unleashed a barrage of rockets. The alien staggered, but kept coming.

"Ryan, some help here!" Judah called out.

Ryan, who had been eyeing the alien warily, nodded. "Time for plan B." He pulled out a grenade and lobbed it right into one of the alien's many mouths. There was a satisfying explosion, and the alien dropped, smoking, into the dirt.

Jamie dusted himself off. "See? It liked the joke."

Judah shot him a look. "No, it just didn't like you."

They all laughed as they surveyed the aftermath, bits of alien scattered everywhere.

Ryan checked his communicator. "We still need to scavenge more if we want enough to upgrade our ships."

Judah nodded. "Right. More armor, less alien guts."

Jamie, looking at the wreckage, grinned. "Maybe we can sell alien guts too. I hear there's a market for exotic alien smoothies."

Ryan grimaced. "Yeah, maybe in the most disgusting parts of the galaxy."

"Just saying, never underestimate the value of a good sales pitch," Jamie said with a wink.

They loaded their haul into the *Barely Functional* and prepared for takeoff, ready for their next adventure. They didn't have much in the way of money, and their ships were falling apart at the seams, but they were surviving—and laughing their way through it.

And as Judah set their course for the next planet, Jamie leaned back, feet up on the dash. "Next stop, let's try a planet where the aliens appreciate good humor."

"Or where they don't eat us alive," Ryan added.

Judah sighed. "Just strap in."