Max Rage: Intergalactic Badass!

by Jake Bible

  “Tut tut, Max,” Lisha said as she sipped at her coffee and nibbled a bright pink scone. “Location revealed when we arrive at my home. Which will be later today.”

  Rage paused with tongs full of Nexian bacon poised to drop on top of his massive pile of food. He glanced over his shoulder at a smiling Lisha.

  “How long was I asleep?” Rage asked.

  “Oh, you didn’t sleep through two days,” Lisha said. “I lied about the arrival time.” She leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table, her eyes filled with mock conspiracy. “Had to know I could trust you. Surprise.”

  Rage dropped the bacon onto his plate, steadied the wobbling tower of food, and walked back to the table. He sat down hard and the chair creaked while his eyes locked onto Lisha.

  “Don’t like surprises,” Rage said and jammed a dozen pieces of bacon in his mouth. He chewed deliberately, never taking his eyes off Lisha, then swallowed. “Any more surprises I need to know about?”

  “They wouldn’t be surprises if you needed to—”

  “I’m out,” Rage said and shoved his plate away. “Turn this bucket around. I’ll deal with the cops. I’ll deal with Earth Corp. I’ll deal with whatever comes my way. This bouncer is done being bounced around. Take me back to Earth before I tear this fucking ship apart.”

  “Oh, stop being a poop,” Lisha replied, unconcerned. “Sit your gorgeous ass down, Max. I’m not taking you back to Earth, so get that out of your head. You want to go home? Then hop out an airlock and walk your way back.”

  “Cute.”

  “There are no more surprises,” Lisha said. “I promise.”

  “There better not be,” Rage said.

  “Or what? You’ll punish me for being bad? Mmmm, I think I can take that.”

  “The cute is getting old,” Rage responded. He sat down and pulled his plate back to him. After a few bites, “We arrive today? Everyone will be there?”

  “Everyone will be there. You can make your plans then we leave tomorrow. There is no time to waste.”

  “Not a time-wasting guy anyway. I want to get this shit over with as fast as possible.”

  “I’m sorry my company doesn’t want to make you stay longer.”

  “Not about you, lady. It’s about me.”

  “Spoken like a true male. Doesn’t matter the species, the blow off is always the same.”

  “I doubt you get many blow offs.”

  “That’s true. But you can never—”

  “My lady,” Watchdog said as he entered the dining room. “Have you had a chance to read my report?”

  Lisha glared at the bot for interrupting. Then she sighed and set her coffee down.

  “The report where you accuse Max here of conspiring with a pirate space vampire?” she asked.

  “Space vampire pirate,” Rage said.

  “That is the one I’m speaking of,” Watchdog said.

  “So much for our little talk in the lounge,” Rage said.

  “You two had a little talk?” Lisha asked. “Do tell.”

  “He accused me of setting the vampire free, a headless vampire by the way, and then we had a nice little tussle and I left to go get some shitty sleep,” Rage explained. “Why? What did he say? I bet that report of his was riveting.”

  “I skimmed it,” Lisha admitted. “It could say you like to throw puppies into volcanoes and I wouldn’t change my plans. We’re committed at this point.”

  Her eyes were on Rage, but her tone was directed at Watchdog. The bot waited, its metal features impassive. Rage continued eating.

  “Alright, alright,” Lisha said, exasperated. “I need this thing between the two of you to stop. Now. We are going after a goddess. That will take all of your focus. If either of you cannot commit to giving the job the focus it deserves, then you are of no use to me and should be stuffed into a refuse cube and ejected off the ship right now.” Lisha grinned. “Just like Max did with his space vampire friend.”

  Rage coughed on a piece of toast then growled as he stood.

  “Well, guess it’s time for more fighting,” he said as he cracked his knuckles and faced Watchdog.

  “Sit down, silly goose,” Lisha said. “I don’t care what you did with that pirate. It’s not like her being alive changes anything. The Velpoohians are already involved, so let her go back to her pirate friends and do her worst. You’ll take that into account when planning the job.”

  “Not gonna have Bolt Butt here try to throw me off the ship?” Rage asked.

  “I will do more than try,” Watchdog said.

  “Yeah, you’ll also fail,” Rage replied.

  “Stop,” Lisha insisted. “Both of you. Bury this beef you have and deal with it after the job is successfully completed. Are we clear?”

  “Sure,” Rage said. He grabbed his plate and went back to the buffet. “That all?”

  Lisha stood and walked to Rage. She trailed a finger up and down his bulging right bicep. “Unless you want to come to my quarters for mimosas.”

  “Maybe when the job is finished,” Rage said.

  “So professional,” Lisha said and sighed as she strutted away. She patted Watchdog on his metal cheek. “Be. Good.”

  “Yes, my lady,” Watchdog responded.

  Lisha left and the bot focused on Rage. Rage shrugged and sat back down with his third pile of food.

  “Keep staring all you want, Bolt Butt,” Rage said. “You won’t ruin my appetite. Two things you learn when serving Earth Corp are to sleep when you can and eat when you can. No metal dickwad is going to stop me from finishing off this plate.” Rage smirked. “Or stop me from getting some mimosas afterward.”

  Gears deep inside Watchdog ground noisily. Rage’s smirk grew.

  “Let me know when we land,” Rage said as Watchdog turned and left without another word. “Okay, bye then, Bolt Butt!”

  Fifteen

  Sporkon Five was a desolate planet when it was first discovered. Empty plains and deserts covered the landscape, interspersed with millions of lakes. With no indigenous sentient race, there was no objection when a few forward-thinking individuals decided to buy up the planet in its entirety and create vast estates along some of the more spectacular lakeshores.

  Rage tried not to be impressed when he stepped off the Hourglass and onto the landing pad next to Lisha’s massive mansion. But he would have to have been dead not to admire what lay beyond the huge mansion.

  “Now, that’s a lake,” Rage said as he stared at the sparkling blue water that was ringed by low mountains and a far-off savanna. “How’s the fishing?”

  “Oh, I’ve never fished the lake before. Don’t know how,” Lisha said, her arm hooked through Rage’s as she led him across the landing pad to a set of open double doors where several servant bots stood waiting. “Perhaps you can teach me?”

  “I doubt you don’t know how to fish,” Rage said. “Something tells me you didn’t exactly grow up in a house like this.”

  “No, I did not,” Lisha said and let the subject drop as they approached the waiting servant bots. Watchdog followed close behind, silent and watchful. “Hello, staff.”

  The bots all bleeped and beeped their greetings to Lisha as she passed by them and into the mansion.

  Rage whistled. “You know how to live now. That painting there has to be worth as much as your ship.”

  Lisha paused and brought Rage to a halt. She stared up at him. “Are you guessing or do you know that painting’s value?”

  Rage shrugged. “I’m not all muscles and good looks. I may be a bar bouncer, but I also went through Earth Corp training. They want you compliant, not ignorant.”

  “That’s only a half-truth,” Lisha said. Watchdog made a snorting sound. “There’s depth in you, Max. I aim to plunder those depths at some point. You can also plunder my depths, that way it’s not a one-sided deal.”

  “We’ll see,” Rage said as Lisha started walking again.

  They wound their way through the mansion, finally coming t
o a stop in what Rage assumed was the library. The walls and walls of books were the giveaway.

  Three beings were standing in the room, waiting.

  “Ah, lovely! Everyone has already arrived,” Lisha exclaimed. “Max, let me introduce you to—”

  “Neela Heela,” Rage said as he saw a humanoid woman leaning against a bookshelf, her hip cocked and chest thrust out so no one missed her massive bosom. She was dressed in a tight sleeveless T-shirt and cargo pants with boots that could crush titanium under their heels. “I know who’s handling infiltration.”

  “Rage,” Neela said, nodding in his direction. “Been a while.”

  “You two know each other,” Lisha stated flatly.

  “We worked a few times together,” Rage said. “Neela ran her own team for Earth Corp. What happened? You quit or get fired?”

  “Got shot three thousand and seventy-four times,” Neela said. Her body shuddered and every feature, including the clothing and boots, shuddered with her, revealing a hidden gelatinous form underneath the facade she wore. “Even shapeshifters can’t handle that kind of attack. Earth Corp paid for my rehabilitation then chucked me out the hospital doors when I was healed enough to walk under my own power.”

  “Shitty thank you for your service,” Rage said.

  Neela shrugged. “It’s Earth Corp, so… I heard you went to prison? That right?”

  “Murdered the entire command crew of the Hanskui when the captain decided that the expense of air support was too much to handle. Lost my whole team. Kinda lost my mind, too,” Rage said. “I was good after I killed the sons of bitches, though. Very therapeutic.”

  “They didn’t hang you? That’s not very Earth Corp at all,” Neela said.

  “Someone pulled strings. Don’t know who,” Rage said. “Don’t really care. I’ll buy them a drink if they ever show up and say hello.”

  Rage nodded at the other two.

  “Who are these folks?” he asked Lisha.

  “Oh, do I get to be included in the conversation now?” Lisha asked, her voice sticky with jealousy.

  “If you want,” Rage said, ignoring the tone.

  “Mosh Iola,” a humanoid made entirely of living metal said. He had to be a foot taller than Rage and even wider. His muscles bulged to the point that they looked like they’d pop if sat on. “I’m a Qitnit. Takes a proton beam to hurt me.”

  “Qitnit, yeah,” Rage said. “The shiny complexion gave you away, bud. I’m guessing you are the muscle.”

  “He is,” Lisha said. “I found Mr. Iola fighting in the pits on Trorpho Nine. Total waste of talent. He’s done some work for me in the past and now I believe he is ready for the big time.”

  “You ever serve?” Rage asked.

  “Serve what? Drinks?” Mosh asked.

  “Mr. Iola is self-taught, but he is a good listener and shouldn’t have any problems taking orders from you, Max,” Lisha said.

  “Rage is the team leader?” Neela asked. “I thought the bot was.”

  “I am tech,” Watchdog replied.

  “He’s tech,” Rage echoed, but with considerably more sarcasm.

  “Making friends already, Rage?” Neela chuckled.

  “You know it.”

  “This gentleman is Fig Sternes,” Lisha said, pushing on. “He is surveillance.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Rage,” Fig said as he stepped forward and offered his hand. “I have heard so much about you. Total fan here, I have to say.”

  Fig was human, but his skin was slightly off. It had a pink plastic look to it and the man gave off an artificial odor that Rage couldn’t place.

  “Oh, yes, my appearance,” Fig said. “Horrible acid burns. It was a full bath, I hate to say. Not a bit of my skin survived. Have to keep the synth on or I just slough out and drip all over the floor.”

  “Great image there, buddy,” Rage said. “So, I guess we’re a team. Let’s get started.”

  “Max, sweetheart, we only just landed,” Lisha said. “Let me show you to your room so you can clean up. We’ll have a light lunch, maybe some cocktails out on the veranda. Perhaps a game of lawn darts? I have the illegal laser-style hidden in the game shed outside.”

  “You have a game shed?” Fig asked. “Cerf bowling too?”

  “Please, Fig, do not be crass,” Lisha said. “Cerf bowling is a slum game.”

  “Maybe… Still kinda fun,” Fig muttered to himself.

  “I’d rather get down to business,” Rage said. “You show me my room and I start to get cleaned up and next thing I know you’ll be naked and trying to wash my crotch in the shower.”

  “A woman has to try,” Lisha said, unperturbed by Rage’s honest assessment.

  “You two aren’t already banging?” Neela asked. “I’d do her. What’s the problem, Rage?”

  “No problem. Just keeping it professional,” Rage said.

  “Too bad,” Neela said. “I was thinking we’d have some fun. Guess I’ll have to settle for Fig here later.”

  “What? Me?” Fig exclaimed. “I haven’t. I mean. Not since. Oh…”

  “Relax, Fig,” Neela said. “I’m only messing with you. Rage is right. Keep things professional while we do the job. If we want to strip down and have a celebratory orgy after, then who am I to say no?”

  Fig gulped and his synth skin turned bright red.

  “You’ll want to dial that blush protocol down a bit,” Rage said, shielding his eyes. “Damn, bud. Rein it in.”

  “Intercourse is for the weak,” Watchdog stated.

  No one agreed with him.

  “Light lunch as we get to know one another?” Lisha asked and clapped her hands.

  Several servant bots appeared and moved toward the set of double doors on the far wall of the library. The bots opened the door to reveal an expansive veranda where even more bots were setting a very long table.

  “Sure. We can talk over the plan while we eat,” Rage said.

  “How can you still be hungry after all that food you consumed this morning?” Watchdog asked as he followed everyone out onto the veranda.

  “I’m regular,” Rage said. “Easy to make room.”

  “Can we not discuss bodily functions, please?” Fig asked as he struggled to decide where to sit.

  Rage shoved him into a chair then sat down a couple seats away. Neela sat across from Rage, her back to the impressive lakeshore view. Mosh took his seat at the end of the table and quickly demolished the chair under him. A bot brought a new chair immediately and Mosh tested it before relaxing his full weight into it.

  “How much you weigh there, Tin Man?” Rage asked.

  “Tin man?” Mosh replied.

  “He likes nicknames,” Watchdog said.

  “Yep,” Rage responded, hooking a thumb toward Watchdog. “Bolt Butt is his. Gonna call Fig Pinky.”

  “And me?” Neela asked.

  Rage made zero effort to hide his glance at her chest.

  “Nah. You’re a shapeshifter. Anything I call you can change instantly. You’ll just be Neela,” Rage said.

  “What about me?” Lisha asked in a playful voice. “What’s my nickname?”

  Rage sighed. “Boss.”

  Lisha frowned. “That’s no fun…”

  “Nothing about any of this is fun,” Neela said. “I agree with Rage. We need to get right to the plan and do this job so we can get on with our lives.”

  “Before we can get into the details, the boss here has to tell us where we’re going,” Rage said. “Time to spill, lady.”

  “Such a hurry,” Lisha said. “Fine. Watchdog? If you would be so kind.”

  “Kindness has nothing to do with it, my lady,” Watchdog said as he held out a metal hand and projected a holographic image onto the center of the table. “This is an image of Horloc Station.”

  That got Rage’s attention. It also got the attention of the others and everyone’s casual demeanor turned to strict alertness.

  “Okay, maybe this won’t be so boring after all,” Ra
ge said. “You telling me we’re stealing a goddess from Horloc Station? Horloc Station? The nastiest den of corruption in the galaxy? What the fuck is a goddess doing on Horloc Station?”

  “Stripping,” Lisha said. “She takes her clothes off for money and dazzles the patrons of the club she works in. Such an independent spirit.”

  “The patrons are then robbed of everything they have, but no one asks questions because of the after-effects of her power,” Watchdog added. “She has made her captor a fortune.”

  “Captor? She’s being held against her will?” Neela asked. “In a strip club? How does that work?”

  “They know her true name,” Lisha said. “Know a god or goddess’s name and you can bend them to your will.”

  “Yeah, hold up with the plot holes there,” Rage said. “Horloc Station isn’t a place you go where you want to keep a secret. Sure, honor amongst thieves and all that bullshit. You snitch to the authorities and you’re dead. But other than that, intel is traded like Startorian syphilis. How in the hell can there be a goddess on Horloc Station and no one has tried to steal her before?”

  “They have,” Watchdog said. “And everyone that has tried has died horribly. You cannot get within touching distance of the goddess without being vaporized.”

  “Unless you know her name,” Neela said. “The job is finding out her name, not stealing her from the station.”

  “Both,” Watchdog said. “We find out her name, gain control over her, annihilate the competition, then remove her from the station and return her here.”

  “For what purpose, if I may ask?” Fig asked.

  “My purpose,” Lisha replied. “And to honor my late husband’s desire for the goddess to be free.”

  “Yeah, you should have stuck with the first sentence,” Rage said. “Adding the bullshit at the end ruined it.”

  “Oh, Max, you cynic you,” Lisha said and giggled.

  “Jesus Christ…” Neela muttered.

  “If bullshit is the issue, then you should share with the team that you colluded with a Velpoohian space vampire,” Watchdog said to Rage.

  “That so, Rage?” Neela asked.

  “Pirates? Oh dear…” Fig gulped.