by Jake Bible
ROAK
Galactic Bounty Hunter
Jake Bible
Copyright 2016 by Jake Bible
1.
Ebony-skinned, Boss Teegg blended into the shadowed corner of his spa room with ease. He sat there, naked, his expansive belly hanging down onto the tops of his thighs, his pitch-black lips glistening wet with anticipation. He licked those lips with a long, narrow tongue that was as dark as his skin, if not darker.
His eyes watched the three Nemorians cavort in the water tank, their nymph-like bodies so young and supple. Their green skin shone with jeweled radiance, lighting up with sexual energy as they laughed and played with each other, oblivious to the man that stared intently at them.
Boss Teegg licked his lips again and was about to stand up to join the alien women he had paid a handsome price for, but his privacy was interrupted by a knock on the spa room door.
The Nemorian women were too busy laughing and splashing to notice, and for a moment, engrossed with that deliciously visual play, so was Boss Teegg, but the knock came again, stronger, more insistent, and there was no way to ignore it.
He rubbed the tops of his thighs several times as he got his anger at the interruption under control. His people knew better, so it must be incredibly important. It had better be. If not, then Boss Teegg planned on having a rather severe conversation with the person on the other side of the spa door.
His hand reached for the wall and slid open a small panel. He withdrew the Kepler knife without a sound and held it behind his back. It was a black market weapon, banned on the planet where he kept his stronghold, but he didn’t care.
Nothing happened on Ligston without his say so.
“What?” Boss Teegg barked.
The three Nemorians paused in their sexually charged water play to glance over at the shadowed corner. Boss Teegg stood up and they shrank back slightly, each placing a hand on each other’s’ shoulders for comfort and support. It was a natural, subconscious reaction when faced with an incredibly obese, eight-foot-tall man suddenly peeling himself away from the shadows.
The knocking continued.
“What?!” Boss Teegg barked again. “Open!”
The door slid open and a man almost as tall as Boss Teegg, but nowhere near as heavy, stumbled into the spa room, a meter cubed box weighing his arms down. Boss Teegg’s lips pulled back in rage and disgust at the interruption, and the Kepler knife would have been put to use, but the look on the man’s face made Boss Teegg hesitate.
“Vnluk?” Boss Teegg asked. “You had better have a good reason for this.”
Vnluk, one of Boss Teegg’s most trusted bodyguards and enforcers, nodded rapidly as sweat poured down his forehead and into his terrified eyes.
“What the Seven Satans is in the box?” Boss Teegg asked. “What the hell is going on?”
“Set it down by the water tank,” a voice ordered from the doorway. “Nice and easy, then back your ass up against the wall. Over there. Slow. Smooth. Got it?”
Vnluk looked over his shoulder at the source of the voice and nodded. He quickly complied with all the orders he was given, looking as if arguing was the farthest thing from his mind.
Boss Teegg pulled the Kepler knife out from behind his back, the blade glowing orange, ready to slice through flesh like it was tissue paper. He waved it around then pointed it directly at the doorway.
“I’m not going to even count to three,” Boss Teegg said. “Show yourself now or die. Two choices. That’s it.”
“Put it away, Teegg,” a man said as he stepped all the way into the spa room. “You’re gonna get hurt.”
Over six feet tall, square-jawed and broad-shouldered, the man looked like he could have played any of a dozen of popular galactic professional sports in his youth. But his youth was long gone. Late thirties, scarred skin, ropy muscles, and eyes that were cold as ice, the man had obviously found a new sport in life, one that involved a good deal of violence.
“Roak,” Boss Teegg said then laughed. “Wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.”
The huge man glanced over at Vnluk then back at Roak.
“Wasn’t expecting to see you at all, in fact,” he continued. “I told you my men would make the payment. No need for us to meet face to face.”
“That’s what you told me,” Roak said.
Roak folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the wall. He was dressed in light armor, the kind that was as flexible as cloth, but strong as the hardest metal in the galaxy. It looked like it hadn’t been washed or upgraded in decades. His arms were crossed over a blast-scarred section of the armor that drew almost all of the eyes in the room right to it, minds instantly wondering how a man could survive such a blast and still be standing there before them.
Except for Boss Teegg. His eyes ignored the blasted armor and stayed focused intently on Roak’s scarred face.
“What do you want, Roak?” Boss Teegg asked. He tilted his head slightly, giving the impression he was looking past Roak without actually looking away from the man. “Where are the rest of my men?”
“Most are alive,” Roak said and shrugged. “And most of those will probably live. Some won’t. The ones that refused to pay me don’t even get a choice. They didn’t make it.”
“He didn’t complete the job,” Vnluk said, his voice loud and panicked. “I told him that, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“I completed the job,” Roak said and pointed his chin at the meter-cubed metal box that sat near the water tank. The three Nemorian whores shrank back from it as if it would contaminate them despite there being ten inches of plastiglass and hundreds of gallons of water between them and it. Roak smiled briefly then nodded. “Proof of completion is right there.”
“That’s Bicun Maz?” Boss Teegg asked. “You put his body in there?”
“What’s left of it,” Roak said. “The bounty was dead or alive. Dead was the only way. That shouldn’t have been a problem. Your men made it one.”
“No!” Vnluk snapped. “Maz being dead ain’t the problem. That ain’t Maz. That’s the problem!”
“DNA sequencing matches,” Roak said. “Open it, Teegg. Authentication is solid. Have your techs check it out.”
“Open it,” Boss Teegg snarled at Vnluk. “Now!”
The bodyguard rushed over to the box, a look of complete defeat on his face. He pressed a palm to the brushed metal side and waited as gases escaped from hidden ports and the top slowly rose, revealing a plastiglass tank filled with a rosy brown liquid.
“Eight Million Gods,” Boss Teegg hissed. “What did you do to him?”
“Nothing,” Roak said. “Except scoop him up and put him in there. He was dead and liquefied when I found him. Probably had been for at least three months. Feel lucky, Teegg, that you can’t smell him. Wasn’t pleasant.”
Boss Teegg didn’t answer right away. His eyes studied the plastiglass and its contents, his brows knitted together in intense thought.
“That can’t be Maz,” he finally said. “Dead for months? No. You have the wrong box of gunk.”
“I said that too,” Vnluk said then shut his mouth as Boss Teegg glared at him.
“Bicun Maz was last seen on Egthak three weeks ago,” Boss Teegg stated. “You failed, Roak. It’s surprising, considering your reputation, but it happens to everyone at some point in their lives.”
“Not to me,” Roak replied. His voice was so confident that Boss Teegg almost began to nod in agreement. Roak smiled. “That’s Bicun Maz. The person your people saw on Egthak was not Maz. That was a Jirk. Maz died months ago and the Jirk stole his skin. Rough way to go.” Roak nodded at the plastiglass tank of gunk. “Really rough.”
Boss Teegg began to chuck
le. He pointed the Kepler knife at Roak and shook his head as he did so.
“You,” he hissed as he laughed. “You’re clever. Everyone said you were clever. I never take what others say for granted. But you’ve proven them right. You are clever.” The knife was pointed at the remains of Bicun Maz. “You want me to pay for that body even though that’s technically not the bounty you were hired for.”
“You’re wrong there, Teegg,” Roak said. “Technically, that’s exactly the bounty I was hired for. Bring you Bicun Maz. That’s Bicun Maz. It’s not my fault that the actual target you want is a Jirk walking around inside Maz’s skin. If you want me to find that guy or gal, then that’s a whole other bounty. I’ll take it on as soon as you pay me for this one.”
“I ain’t paying you for that tank of shit,” Boss Teegg said, still laughing. “Oh, Roak, there is no way in all the Hells that you are getting paid for that. You do your job and find the Jirk that’s causing me so much trouble and then you’ll see your credits.”
“Chits,” Roak said. “Hard currency. No credits. Chits. I’ll take them now and be on my way, since it sounds like you don’t want to hire me for the next job.”
“You didn’t complete the first one!” Boss Teegg roared, the laughing suddenly done. “You ain’t getting nothing until you do what I hired you to do!”
Roak only stood there against the wall, his cold, cold eyes locked onto Boss Teegg’s.
The ebony giant growled low then waved a hand over his left wrist. A holographic display came up and several faces appeared within it, eyes hard and ready.
“Everyone,” Boss Teegg snarled. “Send everyone to me. Now.”
“You’re making a mistake, Teegg,” Roak said. “Pay me what you owe me and this doesn’t have to go bad for you.”
“Bad for me?” Boss Teegg shouted. “Bad for me?! You are insane, Roak! Insane!”
Roak raised an eyebrow in response. That was all.
“My guards will tear you a new one!” Boss Teegg yelled. “They’ll create orifices in your body that should only exist on a Neffernian! And when they’re done doing that, I’ll make sure every single one of those new orifices is violated in the most horrendous way! You hear me, Roak? You are going to die with less dignity than terpigs get at the slaughterhouse!”
“Just pay me, Teegg,” Roak sighed.
Boss Teegg’s body shook with uncontrolled rage. Literally, uncontrolled. The Kepler knife nearly came loose from his grip as he continued to shake. Roak sighed again.
“You’re wasting my time,” Roak said. “Hire me to find the Jirk that’s been troubling your operation. Or don’t. Whatever you decide, you still have to pay me what you owe me.”
Boss Teegg spluttered, angry spittle flying from his lips.
The scene would have continued that way indefinitely with Roak staring and Boss Teegg shaking if a small army of muscle from various galactic species and races hadn’t come crashing through the doorway and into the room.
Roak drew his knife and slit the throats of the first six toughs that came at him before the rest even knew which way to look. With the corpses of their comrades creating a massive amount of multi-colored blood on the spa room floor, the small army skidded to a halt and turned to face Roak who was still leaning against the wall, his blade casually aimed at them.
“I can’t kill you all, but I will kill most of you,” Roak said. “Leave.”
None moved. Roak shrugged.
Then they moved as one. He slashed out, his arm never pausing.
Roak was good with the blade he always kept strapped to his thigh. Very good. Of the small army that raced into the spa room, eight were left by the time Roak was taken down. Those eight made sure their comrades’ deaths did not go unavenged.
Roak managed to stay conscious for about fifteen minutes before the blows to his head sent him sliding quickly into oblivion.
2.
Oblivion hurt.
No way around that.
Roak pulled himself up from the darkness, through the agony that had overtaken his head and most of his body, and lay still upon the floor as he listened to his fate being decided.
“Mort’ane says this guy had pull in the galaxy,” one voice said. It was a slithering hiss. Roak guessed from a Slinghasp, one of the reptilian races.
“Nah, he was just some asshole,” a second voice replied. “He had certain skills people paid for, but he can be replaced.”
“No way, man,” first voice said. “He’s connected.”
“Was. And not with any syndicate,” second voice responded. “He was a loner. I don’t know why you’re arguing. He’s dead.”
“Better be,” the first voice warned. “My guts is telling me this is all gonna go way wrong.”
“Shut up and help lift him into the bin,” the second voice snapped. “I got shit to do today.”
“Okay, okay, don’t get pissed,” the first voice said. “But when it all goes wrong, don’t come crying to me.”
“Not a problem,” the second voice said as Roak felt himself being lifted up from the ground by rough hands. “I ain’t gonna cry over some dead bounty hunter.”
It took all his willpower not to groan or cry out as broken parts of him grated against other broken parts. The rough hands tossed him up into the air, and he was in free fall for half a second before he slammed down into a pile of junk that made the broken parts of his body grate even harder. He hissed through cracked teeth and the two voices went dead silent.
“That was him,” first voice said.
“No way,” second voice laughed. “You see this guy? He’s dead, man. It was just death gas.”
“We should push the button now,” first voice said. “Make sure. Burn his body before he can wake up.”
“Oh, for fu–… He’s not gonna wake up. Anyway, we can’t push the button. The compound is on energy rations,” second voice said. “Whole planet is since the magnetic power generators went offline. We’ll be lucky to still be using lights next week if those engineers don’t get it fixed.”
“Crap, you’re right,” first voice said. “I guess we can leave him. Look at the fool. Even if he wakes up, he ain’t going nowhere. Not with those legs all busted up.”
“Not gonna wake up,” second voice said, exasperated. “But even if he does come back from the dead, what’s he gonna do? Nothing. Never seen an arm so shattered like that. And I once watched a gang of Gwreqs beat a man to death with their bare, rock fists.”
“Come on,” first voice said. “Let’s get a drink and wash the smell of this place out of our noses. I freaking hate the incinerator shed.”
“Getting a drink is the first smart thing you’ve said,” second voice said.
“Bite me,” first voice replied.
There was a long silence then the far-off sounds of an airlock seal braking, a door being slid open, rollers squeaking on a track, the door being shut, the airlock resealing. And locked. The electronic bleep echoed off the walls for a long while. Or it echoed off the insides of Roak’s head. He wasn’t sure.
The oblivion returned.
Roak had no idea how long he was out. The memory of the voices slithered back into his brain and he hung onto it.
The oblivion came for him once more, but Roak wasn’t having any of that. He forced his eyes open. Eye. His left one was swollen shut. No way it was opening anytime soon. Not without a sharp knife slicing the lid in half.
One eye open, one arm completely shattered, both legs at angles that they were not meant to be, and ribs that crinkled like tinfoil, was the state Roak was in as he forced his way up and out of the refuse incinerator bin. He cried the entire time behind clenched teeth.
The fall from the edge of the bin to the floor was less than four feet, but might as well have been a fifty-story drop. Oblivion would not be held back.
He awoke with a gasp as something nudged his right leg. Well, not so much nudged it as sunk its teeth into the skin and began to gnaw with great enthusiasm and obvious rel
ish. Roak opened his eye and shifted slightly to see what was snacking on him.
Gump. An Eight Million Gods damn gump.
They weren’t usually meat eaters. Sure, they ate up any insect, regardless of species, as fast as they could, but he’d never known one to go for flesh. The thing must have been seriously hungry.
“Get,” Roak gasped. His lips felt ten times their normal size and the skin tore as he forced himself to utter that single word. He tasted blood quickly, but ignored it. “Go on. Get.”
The gump stopped eating his leg and stared up at him. It was emaciated. Probably a pet that was tossed into the incinerator bin when Boss Teegg got bored. It must have crawled its way out and found itself stuck in the shed just like Roak.
“Go away,” Roak grunted as he tried to shift his body so he could swat at the varmint with his good arm. Not that it was much better than the other one, but at least he could move it without risking oblivion. “Go!”
The gump growled low and sunk its teeth back into Roak’s leg.
“Bastard,” Roak growled in return. The gump paused, but didn’t let go. “Bastard!”
Roak was not as fast as he needed to be and caught gump teeth when he tried to slap the large rodent away. It was about half a meter long with wiry fur and a long snout filled with sharp teeth. Good eating if you caught one outside of rutting season. Way too gamey to be edible otherwise.
Hissing with the new pain, Roak pulled his bleeding hand up to his chest. He’d need to clean it. Gumps had nasty saliva.
He couldn’t help but chuckle at that thought. He was worried about getting an infection from a gump bite when he was lying on a plasticrete floor in an incinerator shed just slightly half better than dead.
The gump went back for more leg, but Roak was done with that.
The scream that he let loose would have shattered glass if there was any around to shatter. He kicked out with one of his demolished legs, the one with white bone clearly sticking out of the thigh, and embedded the end of his cracked femur into the right eye of the gump. The critter shook violently then went still, its weight pulling on Roak’s fractured bone.
