Roak's War: A Roak: Galactic Bounty Hunter Novel

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Roak's War: A Roak: Galactic Bounty Hunter Novel Page 10

by Jake Bible


  Roak slipped back into the darkness, but it was no longer pure. A golden shimmer danced at the edges and Roak focused on that shimmer. He could live in that shimmer. He wanted to live in that shimmer.

  He shifted his body and gasped.

  The darkness retreated and the golden shimmer disappeared.

  "Careful, tough guy," Ally said as she kissed his cheek, his neck, his chest. "Don't move around. You're still pretty fucked up."

  "Where…?" Roak cracked his eyes open and was glad the room was only lit by the lavatory light. "My cabin…?"

  "Yeah," Ally said. Her hands caressed his skin, her fingertips playing with the multitude of scars that crisscrossed his body. "It's a little more cramped, though. I had Hessa move a larger bed in. Good thing is we can roll out of bed right into the lavatory or right into the corridor. Makes things easier."

  Roak closed his eyes, but he knew Ally was smiling at her jest. He could feel the smile coming off of her. He really liked that smile.

  "Sorry if I scared you," Roak said quietly.

  He tried to lift a hand to touch Ally. That was a mistake.

  "Which part of don't move did you not hear, dumbass?" Ally snapped.

  "Just trying to cop a feel," Roak said and chuckled. The chuckle became a gasp.

  "There'll be plenty of time for that later," Ally said. "Right now, you sleep. You sleep and heal."

  Roak wanted to argue. He really wanted to cop that feel. In his opinion, Ally's ass was all the healing he needed.

  "You know," Ally said, "this part of Roak should come out more. Maybe show the rest of the team that you aren't all hard edges and homicidal danger. Open up a little."

  "I'll open up when I'm dead," Roak said. Another chuckle. Another gasp.

  "You are the most frustrating being I have ever met," Ally said. A soft kiss to his cheek, to his lips. "Lucky it's why I love you."

  Roak tried to grasp that last part. He tried with all of his willpower. He tried so hard he thought he might actually have it, but Ally's words slipped away from his mind as his mind slipped away from conscious thought.

  But as the darkness once more took him, he knew he had something that he could come back to when light finally returned, so he let the darkness in and embraced it with his entire being.

  11.

  Yellow Eyes looked on in horror.

  "They're…they're eating it all," he said, his voice filled with panic. "Hessa!"

  "We have plenty of gump stew," Hessa replied from the loudspeakers set in the mess' ceiling. "I think…"

  "You think? You think!" Yellow Eyes waved his nubs frantically. "Don't think! Know!"

  Across the mess table from him, Roak and Evil Roak shoveled in as much stew as their mouths could hold, both barely taking the time to chew and swallow before shoveling more in.

  "How are you watching that without getting sick?" Reck asked as she walked into the mess and sauntered over to the wall.

  She was dressed in a pair of pants, a sweat-stained tank, and was coated head to toe in grease and grime. She tapped at the food interface. Then punched it.

  "Hey! Did they eat all the stew?"

  "No, they did not eat all of the stew," Hessa said from the speakers. "Give me a moment to reload the food dispenser."

  "I got like ten minutes to eat before I get back to work," Reck complained. "So move ass, lady!"

  "While I am not happy with the snappy tone, I do appreciate the lady comment," Hessa said. The food dispenser kicked out a tray with four piping hot bowls of gump stew. "Why aren't you eating in Pol's mess?"

  "Are you fucking kidding me?" Reck replied as she took the tray and walked to the mess table where the Roaks were still vacuuming up their own stew. She hesitated then sat down next to the stunned Yellow Eyes. "Go get some. It's hot and fresh."

  "Recently thawed, but close to fresh," Hessa countered.

  "Stew!" Yellow Eyes shouted, causing Reck to almost overturn the first bowl she was spooning into.

  "Whoa, dude," Vogga said as he walked into the mess. "Chill. It's just stew."

  "Best stew!" Yellow Eyes cried, a full tray of stew in each hand-nub. He sat down and tried to match the Roaks shovel for shovel. "Best stew!"

  "It is good," Reck said. "But to answer your question, that's not why I'm eating here."

  "Too many bots," Vogga said. "This Pol guy has a fetish, if you ask me."

  "That," Reck said and flicked stew across the table as she gestured with her spoon at the Chassfornian. "Nothing but bots everywhere. You'd think the old tech would build some synthetic beings. But it's nothing but bots, bots, bots."

  "At least the bots are fast at building the cloning tech," Vogga said as he waited for the dispenser to produce his order. "I'm impressed."

  "Creeps me out," Reck said. "They're so orderly and controlled. Every bot is in line and working at full capacity."

  "That's a bad thing?" Hessa asked.

  "Do this ship's bots work at full capacity and in a perfectly ordered line?" Reck asked.

  "Well, no, but that's mostly because of the chaos we live with," Hessa said. "Chaos is Roak's orbit and Roak's wake."

  "Can't argue there," Evil Roak said around a mouthful of stew. "Seven Satans this is good."

  "Yeah," Roak agreed. "I have never been so hungry in my life."

  "Welcome to my existence," Yellow Eyes said. "I ain't fast because I have a slow metabolism."

  "Gonna burst," Evil Roak groaned as he pushed back from his last bowl of stew. He patted his belly which wasn't exactly slim even considering he was pretty much made of nothing but ripped muscle. "So full."

  "What do we call you?" Vogga asked. He had to sit one table over due to his size. The bench creaked under his weight. "Evil Roak doesn't seem right since you aren't really evil anymore."

  "Evil Roak works for me," Evil Roak said then held up a finger. "Better yet, so shit is less confusing, just call me Evil. It has a ring to it."

  "I'm down with that, dude," Vogga said.

  Reck pointed her spoon at Evil.

  "We're going to have a nice chat soon," Reck said. "You've been avoiding me."

  "Have I?" Evil replied.

  "You have," Reck said. "You know shit. You have memories that ugly Roak here doesn't have. Or can't recall. Memories I can't recall."

  "No way I could have your memories," Evil said, patting his round belly.

  "But you have his memories of me," Reck said.

  "Maybe," Evil said.

  "No maybe," Roak said as he stopped eating and took a deep breath. He winced at the pain in his ribs, but was thankful it was only a twinge and not agony. "She's right. We need to know what you know."

  "Yeah. Sure. No problem," Evil said. Then a beeping sounded from the interface on his wrist. "Uh-oh. Time to goo."

  "Ha!" Yellow Eyes laughed. "Nice one!"

  Evil belched loudly then his body started to dissolve until he was a puddle of goo under the mess table.

  Everyone shuddered then went back to eating.

  "He's going to have to get chatty when he's back in form," Roak said.

  "Yep," Reck agreed then finished off her stew, almost matching Yellow Eyes' speed.

  She belched as well, but didn't pat her belly. Instead, she aimed a finger at Roak.

  "Are you sure you're up to this?" she asked Roak.

  "Why wouldn't I be?" Roak asked.

  "Because you nearly died and you've only been up and walking for a couple of days," Reck replied. "Until now you've been eating in your cabin."

  "I'm up for it," Roak insisted. "You done? Ready to give me the tour?"

  "Tour? Kiss my ass," Reck replied. "I've got work to do. Pol may have stolen the schematics for the clone tech, but it's taking all hands-"

  "And bots," Vogga interrupted.

  "-on deck to get this job done," Reck finished. "We screw up even one tiny connection and we end up with goo clones like Evil there."

  "Careful," Vogga warned, "he can hear you."

  Roak and
Reck turned to the Chassfornian, scowls on their faces.

  "He can hear us?" Roak asked.

  "He can hear, see, smell, taste," Vogga said. He snapped his fingers. "Touch. All the senses. He's just doing it while goo."

  The siblings shared a look, eyes narrowed, then both smiled.

  "No!" Yellow Eyes shouted. "Do not smile while I'm eating!"

  "He might come in handy," Reck said.

  "That's what I'm thinking," Roak said.

  "Does he have to reform?" Reck asked Vogga.

  The Chassfornian stopped eating and looked thoughtful then shrugged and went back to eating.

  "No idea," he said. "You should ask him when he's solid again."

  Reck stood up. "Come on, asshole. I'll take you to our new home."

  "I don't think I'd call it home," Roak said as he stood and followed Reck out of the mess.

  "Hey," Ally said as she passed them on her way into the mess. She leaned in for a quick kiss from Roak then was gone from sight.

  "You two are so fucking cute," Reck said.

  "Shut up," Roak replied.

  "Make sure this love thing between you guys doesn't make you lose your edge," Reck said. They walked to the lift. "You can be soft after we wipe Father from all the universes."

  "I'm going to ignore anything you have to say about me and Ally," Roak said. They stepped into the lift. "Tell me what you know about Pol's facility."

  "The first thing I know is that facility is an understatement," Reck said. "The damn thing is like its own tiny planet. Or moon. It's got to be ten times the size of the House of Teeth. And speaking of teeth?" She grinned. "The place is armed to them. I don't even think a Father controlled GF armada could take this place."

  The lift stopped and opened onto the cargo hold.

  Roak and Reck left the lift and descended the metal stairs down to the cargo hold's main deck. They walked past bot after bot that were busy repairing everything that needed repairing on the ship. Roak also noticed they were making modifications. He would have to ask Hessa about that.

  Then they were out of the cargo hold, out of the ship, and into Pol's "facility".

  "Ah! Welcome to Station Hammon!" Pol called out from across the hangar where the ship was parked. He navigated his way through the sea of bots and held his arms out as he approached Roak and Reck. "My station is your station! Come on, I'll give you the tour!"

  "He's chipper," Roak said.

  "He's in his element," Reck replied.

  "I don't trust him when he's chipper."

  "I don't trust him at all."

  "Good call."

  "I know."

  "Well, you should trust me," Pol said when he reached them. He tapped at his ear. "Especially since I can hear and see anything and everything that happens on my station."

  "Not everything," Hessa called over the comm. "I still have my ways."

  "Yes, that you do, Hessa. That you do," Pol replied. He nodded at Roak. "Ready?"

  "Sure," Roak said.

  "I'll be on the clone deck," Reck said. "Building shit like always."

  "And it is appreciated," Pol said as she walked away. "Truly!"

  "Cut the happy host crap and show me the place," Roak snapped.

  "I would think a nice, long nap would have done your disposition good," Pol said.

  "It did," Roak replied. "This is my good disposition."

  "Of course. Right this way."

  Pol turned on his heels and slid his way easily around the bots. Roak had a little more trouble, but managed to only step on two and trip on three as they made their way to a set of bulkhead doors.

  "Now, I have to be fully candid," Pol said. "I am not going to, nor will I ever, reveal the entire capabilities of this station. That would not be prudent."

  "Might be less prudent to keep secrets from me," Roak said as the bulkhead slid open.

  "Not if you are captured or possibly have your mind taken over," Pol said. "Both of which are quite possible considering."

  "Considering what?"

  "Considering that we are about to take Father head on. He isn't quite a god, but in a tech sense he has pretty much reached that level of existence. Never underestimate a god or a being with a god complex."

  "You would know."

  "As would you."

  Roak smirked. "Funny. Where are we going?"

  "The control center, of course," Pol said. He snickered and tapped his head. "A physical redundancy for this."

  They walked a wide corridor that had fewer bots than the hangar. But not by much.

  Roak was glad the bots in the corridor moved out of his way instead of him having to move around them.

  "You have this station's control center in your head?" Roak asked.

  "No," Pol replied. "I am the station's control center. Where we are going, like I said, is a physical manifestation of the control center. Please pay attention, Roak. There is a lot to learn."

  Roak swallowed the biting comment he was about to throw at Pol. He smiled instead and immediately felt good about the small flinch that caused in Pol.

  "I have to say that I never intended to see you again after Razer Station," Pol said. "Silly, I know, considering your reputation. But I truly believed I'd have everything lined up and ready to take me back to my universe."

  "Then Father put a wrinkle in those plans," Roak said.

  "He most certainly did," Pol said. "But once we are finished with our task, and Father is gone for good, then I will return to my quest to get home."

  "Everyone's got a quest," Roak said offhandedly.

  "Do they? What is yours, Roak?" Pol asked.

  "Kill Father," Roak answered.

  "I don't believe that," Pol said. They reached another set of bulkhead doors. Pol waved his hand across an interface and the doors slid open quickly revealing a massive room filled with row after row of interfaces. "Here we are."

  Roak followed Pol in.

  "You don't believe that my quest is to kill Father?" Roak asked as he walked the rows, his eyes taking in the interfaces, but hardly comprehending what they all controlled. "I think I've been pretty clear on that goal. It was one I thought I'd accomplished before."

  "You see there," Pol said, "you said goal, not quest. Killing Father is a means to an end. I want to know what the end is."

  "If there is one, and I'm not saying there is, I sure as terpigshit ain't telling you," Roak replied.

  A flash of falling, falling, then colliding with jagged rocks filled Roak's mind and he shook his head.

  "Are you alright, Roak?" Pol asked. "This isn't too much for you, is it? I thought the walking might do-"

  "I'm fine," Roak snapped.

  "Of course you are," Pol said and looked about. "Here we are. Where should I start?"

  "Defenses and offenses," Roak said. "There's no way Father doesn't know this place exists. He'll be coming here soon enough so how do we fight him off?"

  "First, I disagree with your assessment," Pol said. "I have improved the Skrang stealth tech exponentially. Not even the greatest AI ever conceived could find this station. If I didn't know where it was and where to look, I wouldn't be able to find it. Eight Million Gods forbid someone were to move it. I'd be lost!"

  Pol chuckled, but the chuckle died quickly when Roak didn't join in.

  "Right," Pol said. "I'll give you a quick list. Offenses include several twenty-aught plasma cannons. One shot can disable a GF Destroyer. Two shots would obliterate it. Three shots and the molecules would be scattered across the galaxy."

  "How many is several?" Roak asked.

  "The station is spherical and there is a TA located every two meters of the station's surface."

  "TA?"

  "My shorthand for twenty-aught."

  "Alright. Spare me the math and give me a number."

  "Four hundred and fifty-two TAs."

  That got Roak's attention.

  "What the fuck were you expecting to fight with this thing?"

  Pol raised an eye
brow.

  "Father," Roak said and nodded.

  "Oh no, something far worse than that," Pol said.

  Again, that got Roak's attention.

  "Far worse?" Roak asked.

  "B'clo'no's and their ilk," Pol said. "Even B'clo'no's cannot absorb all of the energy from a TA blast. Always prepare for the worst."

  "Can't fault you there," Roak said. "What else?"

  Pol rattled off a massive list of additional armaments. Roak yawned halfway through the list, but didn't stop Pol from his recitation. Then the defenses started.

  "Hold up," Roak said. "Portal hoops?"

  "Oh, they are one of my favorite creations!" Pol exclaimed. "Very much like any wormhole portal. Except smaller. They are cloaked and placed sporadically throughout the system we're in. All I have to do is activate them and tell them where to go and they swoop in and start sending small ships, or parts of large ships, into trans-space."

  "Huh. Alright…" Roak said. "Keep going."

  Pol listed everything else off and with each item, Roak's anxiety ratcheted up a notch. He didn't want to be on Pol's bad side if things went sour. It seemed to Roak that the dark tech could take on more than a GF armada. It sounded like he could take on the entire GF and Skrang combined.

  "This station can transport too?" Roak asked.

  "Oh, yes," Pol replied. "And with the data we have from the files, I can take it to Father's universe as soon as we are ready."

  "But we have to wait until the cloning tech is installed," Roak said.

  "Yes, otherwise the energetic tuning will be off and we'll be no closer to creating viable clones for you and Reck than we are now," Pol said. "Would you like to see the cloning deck?"

  "That's what I'm here for," Roak said. "Lead on."

  "I believe I've had enough walking today," Pol said and snapped his fingers.

  They were no longer in the control center, but in the middle of chaos.

  Sparks flew everywhere, matched only by the amount of bots zipping around the massive deck.

  "Holy shit," Roak said.

  "It is impressive," Pol said. "You want an army? This will give you an army."

  Roak almost protested that he didn't want an army, just a couple dozen copies of himself. but after seeing the scope of the cloning deck, he was questioning that number.

  Why not have his own army?

 

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