ROAK: Galactic Bounty Hunter

by Jake Bible

  “For Eight Million Gods’ sake! SHUT UP!” Mott said as he whirled around and shot the man between the eyes.

  The man’s head vaporized. One second there, next second not. A fine, pink mist was left in its wake. The mist settled to the floor as Deha continued to scream.

  “You too!” Mott shouted as he pulled the trigger again.

  But the shot went wide as Roak kicked out, his foot connecting with Mott’s knee. There was a snap as loud as the discharge from the blaster and Mott went down. Mott cried out, adding to the cacophony.

  Yet, it wasn’t Mott’s cry, or Deha’s screaming, that was the loudest noise in the house. A distinct whistling had begun to fill everyone’s ears.

  Roak knew what it was. The men knew what it was. It took Mott a second to realize what it was. He threw the blaster aside and struggled up onto his feet, favoring his wrecked knee.

  “Kill the kid! Kill this Roak asshole,” Mott said. “Meet me back at the office when it’s done.”

  “What you want us to do with the bodies?” one man asked.

  “What the hell do you think I want you to do with the bodies?” Mott shouted and pointed at the spot in the kitchen where the outside wall had been breached. “Leave them here and make it look like an accident! One of you dimwits has to know how to short circuit a blaster! Do that and the place blows!”

  Mott limped away and over to the front door. “Give me at least ten minutes before you set it up. I want to be back in town before things get hot. Need to be seen elsewhere.”

  The men nodded as Mott glared down at Roak.

  “You made a heap of trouble around here for no reason,” Mott said. “You know, if you were straight up with me back at the tavern, I bet we could have worked something out. Boss Teegg’s credits only buy so much loyalty.”

  “We could cut a deal right now,” Roak said. “Let me go and I’ll give you a piece of what Boss Teegg owes me.”

  “You have got to be joking,” Mott said as he slipped on his rebreather.

  He was shaking his head as he left the house, the airlock making a heavy clunking noise because of the breach in the house’s atmosphere. When the airlock was shut, Roak turned his attention on the hired muscle.

  “Same goes for you,” Roak said. “Let me go and I’ll split part of my chits with you. Chits, not credits. Untraceable. No one needs to know.”

  To their credit, the two men left actually looked like they were thinking about it. But the thoughts were lost quickly as the whistling in the breach grew louder.

  One of the men pulled a knife and walked over to Deha.

  “Don’t you touch him!” Roak shouted. “Leave the kid alone!”

  The man looked back at his colleague then at Roak. “Sorry,” he said as he jammed the blade into Deha’s chest.

  The kid squeaked then shuddered and went still. The life left his eyes and his chin fell onto his sternum.

  Roak didn’t have time to get angry. He had to move. He kicked up then down with his legs, flipping himself onto his feet. The two men stared at him in surprise. That was all the hesitation Roak needed. He charged the man by Deha and lowered his shoulder, slamming it right into the guy’s gut.

  The two of them fell against Deha’s corpse, knocking the dead boy over and onto the floor. All three lay there in a pile, but Roak moved first, getting his legs wrapped around the man’s neck.

  A hard twist and the snapping of the neck echoed in the kitchen.

  “You bastard!” the last man shouted as he pulled his own knife and came at Roak.

  Roak scissor-kicked, taking the man out at the knees. He fell onto his own blade, the knife piercing through the flesh under his chin and straight up into his skull. Roak let out a harsh, barking laugh of surprise as he struggled to get to his feet.

  He stood there for a few seconds before willing himself back into action. There was a hole in the wall. The air would still be breathable for a long while, but Roak had work to do if he was going to set things up the way they needed to be set up.

  First things first. He had to get the restraints off his wrists.

  Roak crouched down next to Deha’s corpse and put his wrists against the blade of the knife that was still sticking out of the boy’s chest. He sawed for about two minutes before he was able to cut through the restraints and get his hands free.

  Then he went to find the blaster.

  11.

  When he reached the town, there wasn’t a soul to be seen. He’d already watched them race down the road towards Veha’s house and the conflagration that threatened to engulf half the jungle in that area.

  Roak walked a few blocks until he found an alleyway he could hole up in and rest. He ducked behind an air circulation unit and collapsed onto his ass. He was exhausted. Between the fighting, the fighting, the running, the fighting, and the fighting, he just didn’t have an ounce of energy left in him.

  Good thing the blaster had had plenty of energy in it.

  After getting free of the restraints, Roak had lifted Deha’s limp body into his arms and walked back to where he guessed he would find Veha. He was right. She was right where Mott’s men had left her.

  Dead, naked, and broken on her bed. They didn’t even have the decency to cover her up, just left her there, one arm and one leg hanging over the side, her eyes wide open and staring blankly at the ceiling.

  Roak set Deha down on the bed and adjusted both bodies into respectful poses. He covered Veha up and lay Deha’s head against her chest. He remembered a few words his mother had said one time decades earlier, so he said those and pretended not to wipe at his eyes.

  Bodies were a chit a dozen. He’d seen hundreds, maybe even thousands, so he had no idea why he had a tear dripping from the end of his nose. It could have been that Veha had been kind to him when she didn’t need to be. She didn’t ask for anything in return and was looking out for his wellbeing up until the very end. Roak believed in balance, in debts being repaid, and he figured that it was his way of repaying her by making sure her body was not left in the desecrated state it had been.

  Good thing Mott’s men were already dead because Roak was in a mind to do some damage.

  He left the bedroom, closing the door slowly and quietly, and went to find the blaster.

  It was lying on the floor in a lot of blood. Roak picked it up, wiped it off, and set it on the kitchen counter. The air from outside the house continued to whistle through the hole in the wall, but Roak was able to ignore it as he went to work.

  It took him longer than he wanted, and the light outside had begun to lighten, but he finally got the blaster rigged the way he needed it to be. It wasn’t just a matter of setting it to overload and blow, but setting it so it overloaded and blew when he was a safe distance away. The second the first flame went sizzle, Veha’s house was going to explode like a gump with half a nitro stick shoved up its ass.

  Roak had made it about fifty meters when the house went up. He ran through the jungle with every ounce of strength he had, hoping the dense trees would soften the blast wave that was coming. He was right, but barely. Several trees close behind him collapsed, almost crushing him under their singed branches and scorched trunks.

  He hadn’t stopped running until he reached the town and collapsed behind the air circulation unit.

  Sirens wailed and it was with those sounds in his ears that Roak drifted into an uncomfortable sleep. He dreamt of Veha. He dreamt of Deha. He dreamt of their faces turned away from him as he called their names. They refused to look back. They refused to acknowledge he existed. They refused to tell him it wasn’t his fault.

  Because, even in the dream, Roak knew it was all his fault. It always was. Anyone that dared to get close to him eventually ended up getting hurt. Everyone. It was just a fact of life.

  He took to the bounty hunter life like a B’flo’do to a power generator. But the life also took to him. Took him. Consumed him. Made it so that other than the jobs he took on, he had no life to speak of. If he wasn’t hun
ting a bounty then he wasn’t alive. Whores didn’t soothe that. Drink didn’t soothe that. Only the next bounty made life bearable.

  He kept working until even the jobs weren’t enough. So Roak upped the risk factor. He no longer took just any job. He only took the ones that all the other bounty hunters refused. He took the jobs that the most dangerous crime lords and syndicates in the galaxy couldn’t handle on their own. He took jobs that should have killed him a hundred times over.

  And he finished them.

  He became a whispered legend, a name on other hunters’ lips that was more myth than man. The young hunters didn’t even believe he existed. That was good. Let them think him a fable that haunted the galaxy. They’d learn the truth eventually.

  The job that led Roak to that soiled and wet alleyway on Ligston wasn’t even close to the hardest he’d taken. But it had come with a huge bounty attached and he was a little low on chits. He thought it would be quick, easy, and over before he felt the itch at the back of his head for something a little more strenuous.

  Well, he got the little more strenuous part.

  He came out of his half-sleep with a knife in his hand and his ears wide open. Folks were starting to come back into town. How long had he been asleep?

  He didn’t have a wrist implant, so he couldn’t check the time. And the alleyway blocked his view of the sky so he had no idea where the sun was.

  Roak pulled himself up and stretched a couple of times before he risked limping out to the street. People were still panicked, so the fire must not have been all the way under control. Good, still some chaos to hide in.

  He moved out of the alleyway and slowly made his way up the street to the nearest corner. He didn’t recognize anything, so he kept going. It was about ten blocks later that he knew where he was and he had to backtrack four blocks to get to his destination.

  Roak was not surprised to find Ally’s tavern empty. Or, mostly empty.

  “I know you’re here,” Roak said as he walked up to the bar and sat down. “I can smell you.”

  There was no response.

  “Fine,” Roak said as he reached over the bar and grabbed the first bottle his hand touched. “I’ll just serve myself.”

  He poured a healthy drink and set the bottle aside. He waited, but there was still no response.

  “Bottoms up,” he said as he drained the glass and poured another. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I could smell you. Even over the stench that years of spilled drinks have left in this place.”

  Another drink down, another drink poured.

  “In my line of work, it’s no good to let a Tcherian sneak up on you,” Roak said. “Or let one hide its scrawny ass against a brick wall for me to walk right by.”

  Drink down, drink poured.

  “Argh! What is this I’m drinking?” he exclaimed. “It’s crap. I need something better.”

  He leaned over the bar and searched the options within reach. He spotted a fine Klav whiskey and smiled as he grabbed a clean glass and started the drink down/drink poured cycle all over again.

  “Tcherians give off pheromones when they camouflage themselves,” Roak said. “Not even all Tcherians know that about themselves, but it’s true. The scent is subtle, more like a hint of something in the air. But once you know, well hot damn, you can’t unsmell it. Certain systems prize the scent for colognes and perfumes. Says it gives the wearer an air of mystery.”

  Roak chuckled as he sipped his drink.

  “I say it makes them smell like cowards, but then I’m sure you already knew that,” Roak said.

  The air two stools down shimmered and Ally revealed herself as she let her camouflage go. He skin returned to its natural color and she turned in the stool to regard Roak. She was completely naked.

  “Coward? That’s how you thought you could bait me?” Ally said as she stood up, walked over, and snatched the whiskey away from Roak.

  “Then why show yourself?” Roak asked.

  “You have any idea how exhausting it is to stay hidden in a position like that?” Ally said as she found her own glass and filled it with the drink. “Not like being in the jungle or up against a wall. That’s three hundred and sixty degrees of illusion. Not many of my kind can pull that off for a couple seconds, let alone several minutes.”

  She sipped at her drink and sat on the stool next to Roak.

  A man walked through the airlock and into the tavern, but Ally flashed angry eyes at him and yelled, “We’re closed!”

  He left before she’d finished the last word.

  “Hold on,” Ally said as she got up, went to the airlock, and shut it down. “There. No interruptions.”

  “Do we need no interruptions?” Roak asked.

  “I think we do,” Ally said. “It’s so rare that I get a minute to myself. I figured I’d thank you for that.”

  “Me? Why me?” Roak asked.

  “That distraction of yours outside town,” Ally said, taking a deeper sip of her drink. “Emptied every loser out of this place. You’d think they’d want to stay inside, but I guess the thought of fire out there, and all these combustible liquids in here, just wasn’t how they wanted to spend their day.”

  She downed the whiskey and pounded the glass onto the bar.

  “Come on,” she said and took Roak by the hand, pulling him from his stool. “Let’s go upstairs.”

  “Whoa!” Roak said, yanking free. “You don’t even know me, lady. And I sure as hell don’t know you.”

  “Then we’ll go get to know each other,” Ally said. “Intimately.” She grabbed the bottle of whiskey and tipped it at him, cocking her naked hip. “Unless I’m not your type.”

  “No, no, you’re my type,” Roak said. “You are definitely my type.”

  “Good,” Ally said. “Some men don’t like getting sweaty with different races. I had a feeling you weren’t one of them.”

  “I came here for a reason,” Roak said.

  “I know,” Ally said, pulling him along to a set of stairs against the wall.

  “I can’t stay on this planet for long,” Roak said.

  “I know,” Ally replied as they walked up the stairs.

  “I’m not a good guy,” Roak said. “Trouble is on my ass.”

  “I already guessed that the first time I saw you,” Ally said. “I don’t really care.”

  She paused when they reached the top landing. She swiped at the inside of her wrist and a small holo came up of the interior of the tavern.

  “Security mode,” she said. “Ally voice active only.” She held her wrist under Roak’s face. “Say your name.”

  “I don’t really do implants,” Roak said.

  “I don’t really care,” Ally said. “And it’s for your own protection.”

  “Roak,” Roak said after a moment of hesitation.

  “Guest status to Roak,” Ally said. “All others terminate.”

  “Security mode active,” a voice from her wrist said. “Ally voice active only. Guest status assigned to Roak. All others will be terminated.”

  “Damn,” Roak said.

  “It’s the only way I can sleep,” she said as she leaned in and kissed him hard. “Not that we’ll be sleeping.”

  “Damn,” Roak said again as Ally pulled him towards a half-open door at the end of the landing.

  12.

  The sex was rough and fast. Roak barely had time to catch his breath during it all and then it was over.

  Ally laughed at the look on his face then she got up and tapped at a panel on the wall. It slid away to reveal an ornate bathtub big enough for an army. It was already filling with an aromatic liquid the color of amber. She put a toe into the liquid and sighed.

  “Almost ready,” she said. “Hungry?”

  She stood before Roak, so confident in her nudity like only Tcherians could be, hands on her hips, with an honestly curious look on her face.

  “Yeah, I could eat,” Roak said.

  “Good,” Ally said. “Me too. Get in the tub and
I’ll be right back with some food and more whiskey.”

  “Not sure I need more whiskey,” Roak said.

  “Don’t worry,” Ally said as she went to a door in the corner of the room Roak hadn’t even noticed was there. It was a slip he made a note of. She was gone and back before he’d crossed even halfway to the filling tub. “The liquid in there is an old family recipe. It’ll pull the gunk out of you and cleanse your body in minutes. We can drink half my stock while we sit in there and never get more than a good, warm buzz. It’s perfect.”

  “If you say so,” Roak said as he dipped his own toe into the liquid. It felt funky, but was nice and warm. He dared putting his whole foot in then went for it and walked down the small steps so that he was immersed up to his waist. “Wow.”

  “I know,” Ally said, setting the food down within arm’s reach.

  She hurried off and found four more bottles of whiskey in a cabinet against the wall. Roak smiled, watching her ass the whole time. Then watching the front of her as she came striding back. She returned his smile.

  “You ain’t so bad yourself,” she said as she set the bottles down then slid into the tub, lowering herself all the way so the liquid came up to her neck. “For a partial human. You’ve got a lot more scars than I’m used to. That’s saying a lot considering the business I’m in.”

  “Partial human?” Roak asked as he waded over to her, reaching past so he could grab a bottle of whiskey, then sat down in the tub, his hip against hers as he uncorked the bottle. “Don’t know what you mean.”

  “You think you’re the only one that can do the pheromone trick?” Ally said. “You are at least eighty percent human, although not exactly normal human, still figuring that out. But the rest of you is a genetic soup that probably stretches back at least a dozen generations.”

  “You could smell all that on me?” Roak asked.

  She leaned in and kissed him. She tasted like salted honey and heat.

  “I could taste it too,” she said when she pulled away.