Infinite Mayhem

by Jake Bible

  “You two need to bury this terpigshit now or I’m done,” Roak ordered. “If I have to go it alone, then I’ll go it alone. In fact, I’d prefer it that way. I work best alone.”

  Both Reck and Hessa made scoffing noises. Roak slammed a fist on the console next to him.

  “I am not joking!” Roak roared.

  The force of his anger even took Reck off guard and she pressed her back deeper into her seat.

  “What ship would you be going it alone with, Roak?” Hessa asked, a smug tone to her voice.

  “I’d find one,” Roak replied. “I had a great ship before I met you.”

  “That was far from a great a ship,” Hessa said.

  “It got me from point A to point B without being torn apart in trans-space,” Roak responded. “That worked fine.”

  “If you say so,” Hessa said.

  “The mods I made improved the defensive capabilities of this ship,” Reck stated with complete confidence. “Explain to me how that is a bad thing.”

  “I would appreciate some consideration for what I believe is best for my ship before you begin making your modifications,” Hessa said.

  “You’re an AI,” Reck said. “You work for the living, not the other way around.”

  “Yeah, that was not the right thing to say,” Roak said and held up a hand, knowing Hessa could see the gesture. “So, before this turns into an all-out war that I’m not sure either of you will survive, I’m going to lay down the law here and now. Obey the law or I’m done with you two.”

  “That’s how you want to work this?” Reck snapped.

  “Obey my aft thrusters,” Hessa spat.

  “Stop fucking around,” Roak said. “That is the law. Stop fucking around. No more bickering. No more drawing lines in sand or other territorial terpigshit. All actions are for the mission at hand. And that mission is finding Sha Tog so I can get weapons on this ship that will help us stay alive long enough to go steal a bunch of Bishop’s quantum storage drives directly from the facility they are housed in. Those files will then move us closer to finding Mother who may or may not know how to take down Father. Remember that whole Galactic Fleet theory I threw out there just minutes ago?”

  “Let me consult my records,” Hessa said. “Oh, found it. Yes, I remember now.”

  Reck smirked at Hessa’s comment.

  “When the shit finally hits the fan, we are going to be at war with not just Father, but with all he controls within the Galactic Fleet. Not to mention whatever crime syndicates he’s infiltrated.”

  “Probably more than a few mercs and guns for hire,” Reck added.

  “Exactly. So we stay focused because every step of this mission matters,” Roak said. “When we’re all done, and if the two of you are still alive, then you can handle your terpigshit however you want as long as you leave me out of it. We clear?”

  “We are clear,” Reck said.

  “What was the middle part?” Hessa asked. “Oh, hold on, let me check my logs again. There we go.”

  “Hessa…” Roak snarled.

  “We are clear, Roak,” Hessa said. “As clear as we have ever been.”

  “Good,” Roak said and stood up. “I’m going to have a bowl or two of gump stew and make sure Yellow Eyes and Bishop are just as clear. Let me know when we’re about to enter trans-space so I don’t puke up stew.”

  “Of course,” Hessa said.

  Roak left the bridge, knowing full well Hessa was not going to give him a heads up when they entered trans-space.

  5.

  “This guy can pack it away,” Bishop said, watching in awe as Yellow Eyes finished off his eighth bowl of gump stew. “Where does it all go? He’s thin as a broomstick.”

  “Don’t know, don’t care,” Roak said as he shoved his empty bowl aside. He’d finished his stew just before the ship went through the wormhole portal, avoiding the risk of a mid-bite vomit accident. There had been no heads up from Hessa, as he’d expected. “As long as he finds more stew when we stop at Ligston Station, then he can eat as much as he wants.”

  “Oh, I’ll find more stew,” Yellow Eyes said around a fresh bite. “Finding stew is my hack, man.”

  “You know Hessa piped your little conversation down here over the loudspeakers, right?” Bishop asked Roak.

  “I did not, but I’m not surprised,” Roak replied with a quick glance up at the ceiling. “Makes my job easier. I don’t have to explain myself all over again.”

  “We got life debts, man,” Yellow Eyes said, pointing to Bishop and himself with a dripping spoon. “We ain’t going nowhere. Tell us what to do and we’ll do it, Roak.”

  “I’m not exactly as compliant as this guy, but I pretty much agree,” Bishop said.

  “Pretty much?” Roak asked.

  “Completely agree,” Bishop said, seeing the look in Roak’s eye. “If there is more than completely, then I am that.

  “Uber completely,” Yellow Eyes said. “Uber means lots and lots.”

  “Does it? Great,” Bishop said.

  “Do not get chummy,” Roak warned. “I don’t need you two becoming friends.”

  “Teammates should be friends,” Yellow Eyes said.

  “Not a team,” Roak said. ‘“A crew.”

  “That makes you Captain Roak then,” Bishop said with a shrug. “Sure you want to be captain?”

  “I’m not captain, I’m Roak. Just Roak,” Roak snapped. “Don’t you dare try to get beings to call me captain or I’ll put a plasma bolt between your eyes.”

  “He means it, man,” Yellow Eyes said, shoving his final empty bowl away. “Phew. Gonna take me an hour to work that off. I am bloated.”

  There was no discernible difference in the being’s appearance. Roak ignored him and kept his focus on Bishop.

  “How’d you do it?” Roak asked.

  “Do what?” Bishop replied.

  “Blow up the vault without destroying half the planet?” Roak said. “That is some serious tech. You should have turned most of Ligston into a giant fireball.”

  “Containment field,” Bishop responded. “Managing the explosion was the easy part. Getting the equipment down from Ligston Station to the surface of the planet was not. Took me and a crew weeks of piecing and parting until we had everything together.”

  “Weeks? Then you’d been watching me while I was on Ligston,” Roak said.

  “Oh, buddy, there hasn’t been a point in your life these past three years that you haven’t been watched,” Bishop admitted and held up his hands in surrender. “Don’t get pissed. Just being honest. At least now you’re unobserved.”

  “How can you know for sure?” Roak asked.

  “Because your father needed me to be the one watching you,” Bishop said. “Despite the swath of destruction you leave in your wake, you’re aren’t easy to predict and track. There’s a reason we’ve worked so well together, pal. Without me in your father’s pocket, he’s on his own now. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure the crazy bastard is setting up new surveillance, but good luck keeping it on us without our noticing. I’ll spot the snoops when they show up. You can count on it.”

  “You better be able to,” Roak said. “Or your worth will drop. A lot.”

  “Understood,” Bishop said.

  “What about me?” Yellow Eyes asked.

  “What about you?” Roak replied.

  “What tough guy words do you have for me? Don’t I get some ultimatums or threats?” Yellow Eyes asked.

  “Do what I say, when I say it, and I won’t eject you out the closest airlock,” Roak said.

  “There’s my guy,” Yellow Eyes said, smiling. “That’s the grit and gristle I’ve come to expect from Roak. Way to stay you no matter what, man.”

  Roak returned his attention to Bishop. “The crew you used to set up the explosion and heist. What happened to them?”

  “What do you think happened to them?” Bishop replied.

  “How many?”

  “A dozen.”

 
; “You do it on Ligston or wait until you were out of the Gorf System?”

  “What’s going on? What are you two talking about?” Yellow Eyes asked. “What’d you do with them?”

  “They were all taken off the board just before payment was to be made, of course,” Bishop said. “When each of them was far, far away from Ligston so no connections could be drawn.”

  “Wait? You killed them all?” Yellow Eyes asked. “They thought they were going to get paid for a job and you killed them all?”

  “I didn’t kill them personally, no,” Bishop said. He did not sound too troubled by any of what he was saying. “But there are beings in this galaxy that take care of issues like that. Not hard to find.”

  “And the beings you hired to clean up?” Roak asked. “Have they been cleaned up?”

  “Being,” Bishop said. “And, no. I’m ruthless, but not stupid. Killing this being is about as hard as killing you. I’d rather have that loose end out there than miss and have the loose end coming for me.”

  “Father must not have been pleased,” Roak said.

  Bishop shrugged. “Your father didn’t have much of a choice. I think he tried to take care of it with some of those things he was controlling. I can guarantee they all failed.”

  “You killed them all…” Yellow Eyes mused. Then he sat upright, his eyes nearly popping from his head. “Whoa. You guys aren’t going to kill me when this is done, are you? Am I a mess that needs to be cleaned up?”

  “If I kill you, it’ll be because you are as annoying as all the Hells,” Roak said. “Not because I think you need to be cleaned up.”

  “Oh, phew,” Yellow Eyes said and wiped what passed as a brow on his head. “I’m used to folks wanting to kill me for being annoying, so no worries there.”

  Roak groaned and stood up. He nodded to Bishop and Yellow Eyes. “I mean it, don’t you two get chummy.”

  “Where are you heading off to?” Bishop asked.

  “My quarters,” Roak replied. “Going to catch some shut eye before we get to Ligston Station. Nimm is not going to be too happy to see me, so I want to be sharp.”

  “How not happy to see you?” Bishop asked.

  “Might be a tussle involved. She likes to send her guards at me to make a point,” Roak said as he walked to the mess’s doors.

  “I can see that the point has gotten through.” Bishop chuckled. “Rest well, buddy.”

  “Have a great nap!” Yellow Eyes called as Roak left.

  Roak walked to the lift, entered, waited until the doors closed, then glanced up at the ceiling.

  “How’s Reck?” Roak asked.

  “Still on the bridge, still pissed off, but she may be warming to me,” Hessa said. “I believe your little show worked.”

  “Good,” Roak said. “And Bishop and Yellow Eyes?”

  “Getting chummy just like you told them not to,” Hessa said. She paused.

  “What?” Roak asked. “Say it.”

  “Is all this manipulation and subterfuge really necessary, Roak?” Hessa asked. “These are allies, aren’t they?”

  “We have no real allies, Hessa,” Roak said. “You need to realize that. The closest would be Yellow Eyes because I don’t think that guy can conceive of an ulterior motive. He’s just happy to be alive and not owned.”

  “Surprisingly perceptive,” Hessa replied.

  “I have my moments,” Roak said with annoyance. “Bishop and Reck can never be trusted. Anyone touched by Father is a risk.”

  “Does that include you?” Hessa asked.

  “Yes,” Roak replied.

  “I was joking,” Hessa said with surprise.

  “I’m not,” Roak said. “There is still a lot of him in me. I didn’t worry when I thought he was dead. Now that he’s not, I am wondering how much of my life has been of my choosing or how much has been manipulated by that son of a bitch.”

  “I do not detect any outside manipulation, Roak,” Hessa said. “And I have scanned you so many times in a med pod that I would know. Even with Father’s capabilities, I would know.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Roak said as the lift stopped and Roak stepped off and made his way to his quarters. He keyed in the code and slipped inside. “But if I ever seem off, do not hesitate to let me know.”

  “Yes, because telling when Roak is off is such an easy task.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Not sure I do, to be honest. I have studied you a great deal, but you are not one to share your inner thoughts often. What I know about you has been from sheer observation only.”

  “Then observe harder.”

  “I will observe as hard as I can.”

  “Good. Message sent?”

  “Message is sent.”

  “Coded?”

  “Don’t be insulting, Roak. Get some sleep. I will handle all on my end.”

  Roak kicked off his boots. He collapsed across his bed without removing his light armor. Better to be ready than to be too comfortable. Not that he had trouble crashing out. He was asleep before Hessa had dimmed the lights.

  When he came to a few hours later, Roak knew things were off. He didn’t know how they were off, just that his instincts were telling him that getting his boots on and his Flott five-six concussion blaster with laser cluster spread out and ready would be a good idea.

  “Hessa?” he asked quietly. No answer.

  Roak paused at the door to his quarters and listened. No sounds coming from the corridor outside, but that didn’t mean trouble wasn’t waiting for him. He hit the controls and stepped to the side.

  The wall across from the door was scorched by plasma fire. Roak dropped to a knee, spun out into the doorway, and fired his blaster, ripping the legs off two Spilflecks and the head off a Ferg. Spilflecks were a humanoid lizard race with neck frills that expanded when they were alarmed. They never got the chance to expand. Fergs were a diminutive race that were like a cross between a beaver and a praying mantis. Those buckteeth were vaporized before the Ferg could even act surprised.

  “Hessa!” Roak snapped into his comm. Still no answer.

  He waited a few seconds to make sure reinforcements weren’t coming to take him out then stood up and slowly exited his quarters. He relieved the corpses of their weapons, simple plasma blasters that paled compared to his Flott, and tucked them into his belt. Roak made his way to the lift and activated the controls then he jogged back and ducked inside his quarters.

  The lift dinged and opened then fire filled the corridor. Roak sighed, anger simmering its way to a boil. It wasn’t that he was mad at the fact someone had taken his ship. He was pissed off that amateurs had taken his ship. Reck alone should have stopped them.

  Which meant Reck and Yellow Eyes and Bishop were incapacitated before they could react. The tech that accomplished that was what Reck was worried about.

  He left his quarters again and went in the opposite direction. He reached a barely visible panel in the far wall and popped it off, revealing an access shaft with a very thin ladder that stretched far up into the ship. Roak holstered his Flott and climbed.

  At every deck junction, Roak paused and listened. There were no sounds coming from any of the corridors he climbed past. Not until he reached the bridge. Then the unmistakable sound of rage could be easily heard.

  “You! Purple face! I plan on skinning you alive slowly and showing you each and every fucking strip of your skin as I remove it!”

  Roak smirked in the darkness.

  “Oh, and you! The orange one with the rock face! You ever seen what happens when a being gets stuck in a food replicator and all safety protocols are turned off? Well, bitch, you are gonna see what happens! I’ll be making rock soup for days!”

  “Someone shut her up,” a deep, rumbling voice growled. Roak didn’t recognize the voice. “Gag her before I put a plasma bolt between her eyes!”

  “Try it, bear boy!” Reck screamed before her voice was cut off by a very brave or very foolish being that had gotten clos
e enough to shove a gag in her mouth.

  Bear boy… Deep rumbling voice…

  Roak realized he was dealing with an Urvein as the leader. Urveins were a bear-like race that easily stood seven feet tall and were as big as a Grizzly. Their bodies were covered in fur and they had a tolerance for pain that made them incredibly hard to take out. In fact, a wounded Urvein was one of the more deadly beings in the galaxy to encounter.

  “Tell me we’ve found the bounty hunter,” the Urvein said.

  “No, Malik, we haven’t,” a squeaky voice replied. “The detonator in the lift has been activated, but no one will report back to say they took him out.”

  “That means he took them out, idiot,” the Urvein growled. “Send more down to find him.”

  “He’s not down there,” Bishop’s voice responded. “You’re wasting your time. Personally, if I were you guys, I’d get back on that jalopy of a ship and leave as fast as you can. Consider living through this mistake of a revenge mission your win. You tried and lived which is more than most can say when dealing with Roak.”

  “Am I gonna need to gag you too?” the Urvein snapped.

  “Nope. Zipping my lip now,” Bishop said. “I was only trying to help.”

  “What we gonna do with the yellow thing?” the squeaky voice asked.

  “We sell it,” the Urvein said. “My brother told me about him. Said the freak would probably bring a fortune on the black market. If it’s still alive. Is it still alive?”

  Pieces clicked into place and Roak shook his head. He didn’t know who the beings were, but he knew why they were on his ship. He climbed up as far as he could, pressing his body against the ceiling of the shaft, then kicked the panel he’d been listening by.

  In seconds, the panel was ripped off and a plasma bolt came flying into the shaft. Then a head appeared, glancing down at the darkness below. Roak stomped on that head then grabbed the being and yanked it into the shaft. He didn’t watch the screaming body fall. He was too busy swinging through the open panel and onto the bridge legs first.

  Instead of being grabbed and thrown across the bridge by an Urvein, as Roak had expected would happen, Roak landed on his feet, was able to pull his Flott free, and leveled the large pistol at a very surprised-looking Urvein who was still sitting in the pilot’s seat.