Farewell. Please say hello to Murphy when he clobbers you.
Those had been her last words to the human. They should have been the last words she ever spoke to the insane mammal.
Yet there it was. Hale and hearty. Enjoying a brew with the other Galactics in a seedy bar that also boasted Unsuitable Food on the menu.
“How?” she demanded. “How did you survive? I barely made it out of that melee with my hide intact!”
The human grinned. “Have you heard of the term, ‘lucker’?”
“Sounds like a curse.”
“Oh it is, it is,” the human took a generous swig of its drink. “It’s the ability to fall into a privy pit and come out with gold. It’s the knack of tripping and breaking a toe, only to find that you tripped over a priceless relic. And in one case, its accidentally chopping off your finger while making a speech about how soft you’re not.”
Jerl glared at the creature. “That… doesn’t sound very lucky…”
“It was extremely lucky for the Vardian Empire. Got a bunch of right bastards to back down. Earned the nickname Gregor Elfhand ever after… but that’s what lead to the discovery of the Luck gene. Unfortunately, it comes with a heavy side of Clumsy.”
Jerl reassessed the layers of scars visible on the humans’ hide. There didn’t seem to be any fresh ones.
“Hi,” said the human. “I’m Wanda the Unfortunate. I got an overload of Clumsy and half the Luck. Which, by pure chance, is just enough Luck to live.”
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