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

by Jake Bible

  Salvage Merc One stopped snoring and started mumbling in his sleep.

  "Yes, well, that is not possible," Boss Seven said. "Your ship cannot leave the station."

  "What?" Roak shouted. "Why the Hells not?"

  "We may have made an unfortunate tactical choice early on during our struggles with Father," Boss Seven said. "We put our station in a constantly fluctuating trans-space pocket."

  It all clicked for Roak. "Which is why we couldn't see the station clearly. You could let us in, but in order for us to get out, the entire station has to leave the pocket."

  "You do not seem surprised," Boss Seven said.

  "Hessa? That sound about right to you?" Roak asked.

  "Yes, it does," Hessa replied over the comm. "I cannot confirm it, but it makes the most sense considering the situation. However, I believe I can get us out of here when it comes time to leave. But only the once. We can't come back."

  "Got it," Roak said.

  "Astounding," Boss Seven said. "No AI should be able to breach the sanctuary."

  "Hessa's special," Roak said.

  "As we have heard," Boss Seven said. "Hessa? May I speak with you briefly in private?"

  "I, uh… Can you do that?" Hessa asked.

  "I can," Boss Seven said and he blinked out of existence. Then returned almost immediately. "Are we understood?"

  "One hundred percent," Hessa said.

  Alarm bells went off in Roak's head. Hessa sounded surprised, careful, wary, and…relieved?

  "What was that about?" Roak asked.

  "Later," Hessa said just to him.

  "Full disclosure," Boss Seven said, "the bosses can hear all of your comms interactions. There is no hiding in the SMC headquarters."

  "Good to know," Roak said. He clapped his hands together. "We ready to wake this asshole up and get him to work?"

  "We still have an entire station of controlled salvage mercs to take into consideration," Gerber said.

  Roak shrugged. "Like I said, I've dealt with worse. I can handle this."

  "Without killing any of the salvage mercs," Boss Seven stated.

  "Can I break them?" Roak asked.

  "As long as the breaking is not fatal," Boss Seven said.

  "Just enough to incapacitate," Roak responded.

  "Then, yes."

  "Great. So…who wants to wake Joe up?"

  "I'm Joe!" Salvage Merc One shouted as he scrambled to his feet. He spun in several circles then fell back on his ass. "Ow."

  "So…who wants to sober Joe up?" Roak asked. He cracked his knuckles. "I can do it if-"

  "No, that won't be needed," Boss Seven said. "Joe?"

  "What?" Joe asked from his spot on the floor. He slapped his body. "I'm alive so I must have won." He glanced at Roak. "Or not."

  He sighed and shoved up onto his feet. Then he staggered towards the dais and tried to climb up onto it. No matter how much he tried, he kept slipping back to the floor. Roak could tell that it wasn't just his drunkenness that was keeping him from getting onto the dais.

  "Joe, you aren't dead," Boss Seven said.

  "Smells like it."

  "Looks like it."

  "Are we having Klatu spaghetti for dinner?"

  "Evil spaghetti! My favorite!"

  "Quiet," Boss Seven ordered the others. "Joe. You lost to Roak, but he didn't kill you. Since he didn't kill you, you now owe him a life debt."

  Salvage Merc One stopped trying to climb onto the dais. He slowly turned and faced Roak.

  "Great. That's just fucking great," he complained. "I'd rather be dead."

  "Not to worry, Joe," Boss Seven said. "We have worked out the terms of your repayment and you may get your wish. It will be a very difficult job."

  "A job? I'm doing a job to repay a life debt?" Salvage Merc One smirked. "Please. There isn't a job out there that can kill Salvage Merc One."

  "Good to know," Roak said. He tapped at his arm, realized he didn't have an interface on since his armor was still on the ground, then shrugged. "No time like the present, Joe. My partner, Hessa, will outfit one of your ships with the transport tech so you can-"

  "No need, Roak," Boss Seven said. "We're the SMC. We already have the tech and have tested it out extensively. The other bosses and I have mapped out Joe's route and his ship is ready to depart as soon as he is able."

  "I'm able now," Salvage Merc One said. His stomach made a very convincing argument that his statement was not quite true. "Maybe give me a couple of minutes?"

  Salvage Merc One took off running. A door slid open in the far wall and he ducked inside. Many noises were clearly heard before the door slid shut.

  Roak shook his head and retrieved his armor. By the time he was suited back up, Salvage Merc One had returned. The man didn't look as bad as before, but he still wasn't the picture of health and sobriety. However, he was dressed in heavy armor at least which showed he was ready to get to work.

  "Different universe, eh?" Salvage Merc One asked. "How different?"

  "Not much," Boss Seven said.

  "How do you know that?" Roak asked.

  "We exist on different planes than the living, Roak," Boss Seven said. "There are things that we simply know."

  "Don't like that answer," Roak said. "But I'm not going to get a better one, am I?"

  "No," Boss Seven stated.

  "Not much different universe," Salvage Merc One said. "No problem. What am I retrieving?"

  "Genetic material," Gerber said. "I have given all of the information to your bosses."

  "Just bosses. Not my bosses," Salvage Merc One said. "I'm Salvage Merc One. I'm the boss."

  There were several insincere agreements from the dais.

  "The job's ticket is in your ship's database, Joe," Boss Seven said. "It will take you less than a minute to transport from our universe to the other universe. You will then have five hours to retrieve the material."

  "Pshaw," Salvage Merc One said. "I only need four hours, but whatever."

  He sighed deeply.

  "I miss Mgurn," he said.

  "We know, buddy," Boss Seven said. "But you have to do this one on your own."

  "Why only five hours?" Roak asked.

  "What?" Boss Seven replied.

  "Why only five hours to retrieve the material?" Roak asked.

  Boss Seven stared at Roak gravely. "Because in ten hours Father attacks us."

  "There is no way you can possibly know that," Gerber chimed in.

  "There are many ways we can know that," Boss Seven said. "Just no ways that you can comprehend."

  "Three hours," Salvage Merc One said to himself. "Hells, I can do it in two."

  "That's the spirit!" one of the bosses said.

  "You go get 'em, tiger!" another cheered.

  "No stopping Salvage Merc One!" a third announced.

  "Am I wearing underwear? Oh. No, that's a diaper," a fourth said. "And is it full."

  "We're fucked," Roak said to Gerber.

  "Trust them," Hessa said.

  "I don't," Roak replied.

  "Trust me," Hessa said.

  "Shit… Fine," Roak responded after a few seconds.

  "Off I go!" Salvage Merc One said and pumped his armored fist in the air. Nothing happened. "I said, and off I go!"

  "You're going to have to walk," Boss Seven said. "Moltrans is unreliable at the present."

  "Well, that's just fucking great," Salvage Merc One groused. He stomped off towards the wall and waited. "Hello? Are you ancient, dead assholes gonna open this stupid wall or what?"

  The wall opened and Salvage Merc One left the sanctuary, muttering something to himself about different universes and what effects it may have on how alcohol might taste. Then he was gone and the wall shut once more.

  But before the wall shut, Roak noticed a significant development.

  "You're losing your control, aren't you?" Roak asked.

  "It appears so," Boss Seven said. "I will need to leave you both so I can help the others. I advise you f
ortify your position and arm yourselves."

  Then he was gone. Just another blinking in and out figure like the rest of the beings on the dais.

  "Fortify our positions, I can see," Gerber said and pointed to the various pieces of furniture and debris that littered the sanctuary. "But we can't get to the ship so how are we going to arm ourselves?"

  "I think I know," Roak said and walked over to the wall where Salvage Merc One had disappeared inside to get suited up.

  Roak studied the wall for a minute then pressed his hand against a specific spot. The wall opened wide to reveal a very impressive armory.

  "You'll want to put on some protection," Roak said to Gerber. "That armor there should work for you."

  "It's a little light," Gerber said and nodded at a different suit. "That'll work better."

  "That's some serious heavy armor," Roak said. "Might be more than you can handle."

  "Go fuck yourself, Roak," Gerber said. "I'm a general in the Galactic Fleet. I can throw down with the best of them."

  "If you say so," Roak said and moved past Gerber over to the long wall of weapons.

  He began grabbing every weapon he could find that had a stun setting. Roak may not have been allowed to kill any of the salvage mercs, but he sure as all the Hells wasn't going to leave them standing and awake.

  "Hey, bosses!" Roak called. "How soon until the other mercs breach the sanctuary?"

  The bosses didn't answer, but the loud thumping and banging on the far wall told Roak what he needed to know.

  "That wall is almost a meter thick," Roak said. "If they just pound on it then it'll take hours until they get inside."

  A small red dot started to form in the center of the wall.

  "And if they are coherent enough to use tools and burn through it then they'll be inside in what?" Roak looked over at Gerber who was almost suited up. "Thirty minutes?"

  Gerber had everything but gloves and a helmet on. He snatched a helmet off a shelf and turned to look at the wall. The red dot was considerably larger.

  "I give them ten," Gerber said.

  Roak almost argued, but the size of the red dot grew exponentially just during their brief conversation.

  "Help me fortify our position," Roak said.

  He started grabbing everything he could and dragging it over to the opening of the armory. They'd have zero avenue of escape with the armory behind them, but then they'd have a full armory behind them. One thing Roak didn't mention to anyone was that he had no intention of dying. And if that meant he had to kill some salvage mercs to stay alive then that meant some salvage mercs were going to die.

  It wasn't his fault they got themselves controlled by Father.

  He kept saying that over and over in his head so it sounded right. Roak needed to believe it one hundred percent if the time came.

  Gerber helped Roak build up a solid barrier made of everything in the sanctuary not nailed down. They frowned at the futility of their work, both knowing that they'd be overrun eventually despite the barrier.

  "Make every shot count," Gerber said to Roak. He lifted a plasma rifle to his shoulder, switched the setting to stun, then took aim at the red dot in the wall that was no longer a dot, but a good-sized hole. "We have to hold our position for five hours."

  "Only two according to Salvage Merc Joe," Roak said.

  Roak pulled his Flott, thought better of it, and grabbed a case of stun grenades instead.

  "Less than a minute," Gerber said, his focus entirely on the hole in the wall.

  Roak nodded and picked up two grenades from the case.

  The hole in the wall was finally big enough for a being to squeeze through. Or several smaller beings.

  "Fergs," Roak said. "Always Fergs."

  About two dozen Fergs sprinted towards Roak and Gerber's position.

  "And they're armed," Roak said as plasma bolts hit the barrier. "Oh well. Harmless fire in the hole!"

  Roak activated the stun grenades and threw both of them dead center of the Ferg pack. They went off and the diminutive beings crumpled to the floor.

  "Here come the big ones!" Gerber yelled and opened fire as being after being rushed into the sanctuary.

  Roak picked up more stun grenades and got to work.

  16.

  Roak was exhausted.

  His ribs were killing him, his head felt like it was going to explode, and the rest of his body wasn't doing too much better.

  "I'm out!" Gerber yelled.

  Roak threw the man yet another plasma rifle. The general didn't exactly look like the pique of health either.

  The sanctuary was filled with stunned bodies. Literally. They stacked several meters high and stretched from the open wall almost to Roak and Gerber's barrier.

  And more bodies were being added to the stack every second.

  "Get that one on the right!" Gerber shouted.

  Roak had stopped being annoyed at Gerber's orders over an hour ago. The man was a GF general and used to barking orders. Turned out he was a machine when it came to firing a rifle, so Roak let the constant ordering slide.

  Roak got the one on the right. As ordered.

  His pistol powered down and he scrambled about for a fresh one, but the stack of pistols he'd had at the ready was gone and replaced by a stack of useless hunks of metal alloy and plastic.

  "I'm out," Roak said. "Keep them busy."

  "Keep them busy?" Gerber snapped.

  "Do what you can," Roak said.

  He raced into the armory and searched through empty crates, empty drawers, empty cabinets. There was a reason everything was empty. They were out of weapons and power cells to fuel those weapons.

  Well, almost out of weapons.

  "What the fuck is that?" Gerber asked as Roak returned.

  "Metal table leg," Roak said. He hefted it in his hand then gave his glove a hard smack. "It'll have to do."

  Gerber glanced behind them at a table that was tilting at one corner.

  "You didn't think to grab me one?" Gerber snapped and stomped into the armory. He shoved the table onto its back and removed another leg then stomped back to Roak. "Teamwork, asshole."

  Roak smirked.

  "You aren't so bad," Roak said to Gerber.

  "Same with you," Gerber said. "I could die with worse."

  "Die?" Roak laughed and clambered up over the barrier. "Dying ain't happening today, Gerber. At least, it ain't happening to me."

  Roak slid down the front of the barrier and swung the table leg back and forth as controlled salvage mercs scrambled over the pile of their stunned comrades.

  "Do not kill them!" Boss Seven called from the dais.

  "No promises," Roak said.

  "Roak! The deal will be off if you kill any of them!" Gerber shouted from behind Roak.

  "The only deal I care about right now is the one where I live," Roak said.

  He brought the table leg up to his shoulder as the first salvage merc, an ugly looking Spilfleck, rushed him, its neck frill fully extended and pulsing red and orange. Roak let the table leg fly and the Spilfleck dropped hard. The neck frill wilted and the pulsing colors stopped as the flesh returned to a normal, boring green-beige.

  "He's alive," Roak announced. "Hey, Seven!"

  "I heard you, Roak," Boss Seven replied.

  "I know," Roak said as he got ready for a pair of Shiv'ernas that were racing right for him. "If these guys aren't in stasis anymore then what in all the Hells are you doing?"

  "Many things in many places, Roak," Boss Seven said. "Our existence is non-linear. There is much we must do in order to maintain the current flow of events."

  "Does that flow include me staying alive?" Roak asked. Gerber cleared his throat. "And the general too?"

  "That is part of it, yes," Boss Seven said. "Amongst an infinite amount of other considerations."

  Roak slammed the table leg into the belly of the first Shiv'erna then flipped it about and nailed the second Shiv'erna in the temple. That one fell to the ground like a
sack of rocks.

  "Shit," Roak said and nudged the Shiv'erna with his boot. "Still breathing. We're good."

  The first Shiv'erna recovered and grabbed for Roak. Both of the being's hands were shattered as Roak brought the table leg down on them.

  An Urvein roared and shoved several other salvage mercs out of the way. At almost three meters tall, the Urvein wasn't what Roak wanted to see. Still, size didn't always mean danger.

  The Urvein reached Roak and dodged several swipes of the table leg. It grabbed Roak by the shoulders, lifted him up, then brought him in close, nose to faceplate.

  "You will not win this, Roak," Father's voice said.

  "Not about me winning," Roak said. "It's about you losing."

  Roak brought the table leg straight up hard under the Urvein's chin. Bone crunched and the being roared again, dropping Roak to the ground. Roak slammed the butt of the table leg into the Urvein's chest as he fell. The massive being coughed once, twice, then collapsed onto its back in a gasping, struggling heap of bloody fur.

  "Move!" Gerber yelled and shoved Roak out of the way as a Tcherian almost impaled Roak with one of its toe talons.

  Gerber blocked the Tcherian's foot, but didn't get his table leg up in time to block the Tcherian's fists. They hit Gerber hard, but he was wearing heavy armor, so the impacts weren't life threatening.

  Then the Tcherian hooked its claws up under Gerber's helmet and yanked. The helmet popped off and Gerber screamed as the tips of the claws raked his face all the way up to his hairline.

  Blood poured from Gerber's head as he fell to his knees.

  The Tcherian tossed the helmet to the side and brought his hands down fast.

  But not fast enough.

  "Nope," Roak said.

  The Tcherian shrieked. Its hands fell to the ground next to Gerber's helmet. Roak stood there with the table leg in one hand and an active Kepler knife burning brightly in the other. The heat blade sizzled with Tcherian blood.

  "If we can't kill them, then how about we maim them," Roak said.

  He kicked a second Kepler across the ground to Gerber. The general wiped blood from his eyes, picked up the Kepler, and activated the heat blade. The look on Gerber's face made Roak smile. He'd seen that look in the mirror on more than one occasion.

  "Let's cut some fuckers," Gerber said.