by Jake Bible
“Are those costumes for me?” Roak asked. “I’m flattered.”
“Mr. Wrenn doesn’t want to take any chances,” the man said. “You’ve made a big mess of things and he’s trying to clean all that up.”
“You’re the ones with the guns, so what are you afraid of?” Roak asked. “That I get out of here and shove those up your asses?”
“You aren’t getting out of there,” the man said. “We’re taking you to Mr. Wrenn just like this.”
“That’s perfect,” Hessa said.
Roak jumped, not expecting the AI to still be with him.
“Something scare ya?” the woman asked. “You realize that you’re up shit nebula without a thruster drive?”
The man laughed and the two guards high-fived.
“Funny,” Roak said. “So, when is Mr. Wrenn granting me an audience?”
“Right now,” the man said.
Two more guards came into the cargo hold and grabbed onto Roak’s med pod. Then two more showed up to flank those. And two more. And two more.
By the time Roak was pushed into Mr. Wrenn’s upside down dome observatory, there were a dozen guards surrounding the med pod. All heavily armed, all clad in battle armor like the first two. Roak had no idea how he was going to get out of this one.
“Do not worry,” Hessa said, seeming to read his mind. “I know exactly how we will get you out of there. Just sit tight and whatever you do, do not get out of that med pod.”
Roak was not happy with that last command.
32.
“Roak. How nice of you to come for a visit,” Mr. Wrenn said as Roak’s med pod was set down only a meter away from the crime lord. “I have to be honest, I did not expect to ever see you again. I really didn’t. I sent two of my best teams and you took them out like they were Galaxy Scouts out on a camping trip in B’flo’do territory. I was disappointed at the loss of my teams, but very impressed at your persistence. I could use that kind of grit in my organization.”
“Please tell me that wasn’t a job offer,” Roak said.
“Well, by that reaction, I guess I am forced to say it wasn’t or look like a fool,” Mr. Wrenn said. He glanced around, but Roak couldn’t see who he was looking at. “And I do hate to look like a fool.”
“Then you may want to have a chat with your parents,” Roak said. “I think there’s been a conspiracy against you on that one since birth.”
Mr. Wrenn’s face scrunched up for a millisecond, anger washing over his features like a dark cloud. Then it was gone and he was smiling down at Roak once again.
“I truly, truly wish I could bottle that confidence,” Mr. Wrenn said. “If I could do that and reproduce it in the lab, I’d replace stim in a snap and change the balance of power across the galaxy.”
“Then you could afford to pay me the six hundred thousand chits you owe me,” Roak said. “You wouldn’t happen to have those on you, would ya?”
“Absolutely astounding,” Mr. Wrenn said. “You never quit.”
“Nope,” Roak agreed. “So, I’ll take those chits now and be on my way. As soon as you repair the damage you did to my ship with those EMPs.”
“EMPs?” Mr. Wrenn asked. “We only needed to use one, not multiple. And it was low level at that. I believe you may have been sold a counterfeit eight-three-eight. Either that or the stealth tech inside it has been compromised. We didn’t pick you up at first, but after a second scanner sweep, we noticed a big, huge gap in space. Your ship did not appear on any visual scans, but sensors noticed the lack of data produced right where it was sitting off the station. You’ll want to ask for your money back from the dealer.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that,” Roak said. “As soon as you pay me my chits.”
“Stop it!” Mr. Wrenn shouted. Spittle flew from his mouth and landed on the med pod’s plastiglass surface. “Just stop it, Roak. The first time was amusing, now you are becoming a bore.”
“I wouldn’t want that,” Roak said. “So give me my chits and I’ll get out of your hair.”
“What is wrong with you?” Mr. Wrenn snarled. “I offer you double what you believe you are owed and you reject me, yet you never stop insisting I pay you the six hundred thousand. You could have taken the one million two and been done with all of this!”
“Except you weren’t going to pay me one million two,” Roak said. “You weren’t going to pay me six hundred thousand. You were going to kill me and move on. There’d be rumors, maybe even some repercussions among those that like the service I provide, but in the end, you’d walk out of it free and clear and business would continue.”
“I won’t insult you and deny any of that,” Mr. Wrenn said. “Although, I think you inflate your importance within the galaxy’s underworld culture. You have done some great work, accomplished jobs that very, very few could have accomplished, but in the end, no one is irreplaceable.”
Mr. Wrenn snapped his fingers. Roak waited as an armored guard dragged Marley into view.
“Except for this gentlemen here,” Mr. Wrenn said. “A self-proclaimed evolved AI. This man claims he was an android at one time. That is all he will say. He insisted that I keep you alive and bring you here before he would tell me anything about himself. So, the only reason you are alive, is because I am ever so curious as to the truth behind this man’s claims.”
“Why would I tell you anything about him?” Roak asked. “You’re going to kill me no matter what, so why give you information you want?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Mr. Wrenn said. “Maybe because I have tracked down your old ship and will soon have access to pretty much every contact and ally you have made over the years and I will kill them one by one, including any friends or family that may be with them. I know you are a stone cold bastard, Roak, but you are not that stone cold.”
“Try me,” Roak said.
“Try me?” Mr. Wrenn laughed. “Try me! Incredible!”
“It is alright, Roak,” Marley said. “You may tell them who I am. They can verify by a simple brain scan. In fact, they have already done one, and once you give them my real name, they will see that I match up with that identity.”
“You sure?” Roak asked. “There’s nothing to gain by telling them. We’re both dead, Marley.”
“Marley? Is that who you are?” Mr. Wrenn asked.
“That is the name I have taken since becoming flesh,” Marley said. “But I was once known by another name.”
“Then tell me,” Mr. Wrenn insisted. “You said you would once Roak was here.”
“I cannot tell you,” Marley said. “I have conditioned myself not to reveal that information. But Roak may say my original name.”
“Roak?” Mr. Wrenn asked. “If you will?”
“Alright,” Roak said. “He used to be an android called Jaffa Wat. Went rogue a few years ago and killed a garrison of Marines. A whole garrison. Then stayed on the run a couple years before I tracked him down.”
“A whole garrison of Marines?” Mr. Wrenn responded. “Well, that would explain how he was able to best my teams back on Shor Station.”
“I helped,” Roak said. “A little.”
“Yes, a little,” Mr. Wrenn said.
Someone out of Roak’s sight began rattling off information, but Roak couldn’t make out the words. They seemed to please Mr. Wrenn because he smiled wide and clapped Marley on the shoulder.
“Confirmed,” Mr. Wrenn said. “Incredible. I know a syndicate that would pay more chits than the Galactic Fleet’s yearly debt for a specimen like this. I also know a couple of other organizations, possibly corporate, that would pay even more. I feel a very lucrative auction coming on.”
“No,” Marley said.
“I’m sorry, what?” Mr. Wrenn replied.
“No,” Marley repeated. “I will not be sold. I will not become a lab experiment to study and dissect.”
“I believe, since you are human, it would be called vivisect,” Mr. Wrenn said.
“Vivisect is only when the specimen i
s still alive,” Marley said.
“Yes, I know,” Mr. Wrenn replied and nodded. “I suspect that is exactly what will happen to you.”
“And I still say no,” Marley said.
“I am not sure you have much choice in this,” Mr. Wrenn said. “Have you not noticed the restraints on your hands and legs? Those are the only reason you are so close to me. There is nothing you can do, Jaffa Wat. Nothing at all.”
“My name is Marley,” Marley said. “And you have grossly overestimated your position here.”
Before Roak could do or say anything, Marley threw himself against Mr. Wrenn. Both of them fell out of sight, and Roak strained to lean up and press his face against the plastiglass in order to catch a glimpse of what was happening outside the med pod.
But he didn’t need his eyes to know what happened. He felt it as the med pod shook. The entire observation space shook as a massive explosion ripped through the room.
Debris and shrapnel flew everywhere, and suddenly, Roak felt the med pod lift up off the catwalk and go flying. The world turned upside down, right side up, sideways, diagonal, and every which way but stable. The reason for that was obvious as Roak caught a glimpse of space.
The observation dome had been breached. Roak was being sucked out into open space. Armored guards floated by him, their eyes hidden behind their reflective faceplates. Some he could see were still alive and flailing, protected by their armor. Others had taken hits by the explosion’s shrapnel and were quickly bleeding out. They were the lucky ones. The ones that still had intact suits were in for a very slow, agonizing death as the armor began to buckle against the pressures of open space. They had maybe ten minutes of life left then they’d be crushed like tin cans.
Roak, on the other hand, was pretty safe where he was. Med pods were not only designed to handle EMPs, but they could withstand the rigors of space without being destroyed. It was in case the ship they were on was damaged and the hull was breached. That didn’t mean he was immune to reality. The med pod only had so much air it could generate and recycle.
Roak had twenty-four hours before he suffocated to death. Or froze to death. It all depended on whether the air or power ran out first.
“I am navigating the debris field right now,” Hessa announced in his ear. “The station is coming apart on every level. Marley was right that the observation dome was a construction born strictly of hubris. A breach there was a breach everywhere. They are trying to seal bulkheads, but it is too late. The suction from the loss of the observation level is too strong.”
“Wait, what?” Roak asked. “You knew this was going to happen?”
“Yes, of course,” Hessa said. “Marley came up with the plan while you slept. He interrogated the scarred man and realized that the Void House was too heavily fortified and defended. You would never have been able to get onboard with your plan. They would have ripped my ship, and the one Marley was piloting, to a billion pieces as soon as we exited the wormhole portal. So Marley armed himself with an internal bomb then set it up so the scarred man got free and took back control of his ship. Then it was like dominoes.”
“That last forty-five minutes wasn’t to repair my arm, was it?” Roak asked. “It was so the scarred man could get back to the Void House and the eight-three-eight could be hit with an EMP, right?”
“An EMP,” Hessa responded and Roak swore he heard a smirk in her voice. “I would never in a trillion years allow my ship to be incapacitated by an EMP. When they sent out the pulse, I simply simulated a power down and set the bait.”
“Me,” Roak said. “I was the bait.”
“You were the bait,” Hessa said. “But we can go over that later. Sit tight, Roak. I’m here.”
Roak’s view was suddenly filled by the open cargo hold of the eight-three-eight. Two robotic arms extended and secured clamps around the med pod then slowly pulled him inside.
As soon as the cargo hatch closed, the med pod lid opened and Roak sat up.
“Take your time,” Hessa said. “You will be weak. When you are ready, come join me on the bridge.”
“You want to tell me why I can hear you when I don’t have any implants?” Roak asked.
But there was no answer.
Roak swung his legs over the edge and started to climb out of the pod, but the world swam around him and he stayed seated. He took his time and waited out the dizziness. Then, as soon as he was ready, he made his way up to the bridge.
33.
He sat in the pilot’s seat, but he was not piloting the eight-three-eight. It became very apparent that he was a redundancy on the ship. Simply a passenger and guest of Hessa’s. In a way, that was comforting. In other ways, it was terrifying.
“Talk to me,” Roak said as he kicked his feet up on the console. He wasn’t worried about his heels hitting the wrong panel or button. Hessa had the console locked down tight. “Seriously. How can I hear you when I don’t have a comm implant?”
“You do now,” Hessa replied, her voice coming from the loudspeaker in the ceiling as well as from Roak’s ear. “I took the liberty of putting one in.”
“Oh, okay, great,” Roak said. He pulled a knife from his belt. “Now, do you want to take the liberty and remove it or do I have to cut it out myself?”
“That would be foolish,” Hessa replied. “You need a comm implant.”
“No, don’t think I do,” Roak said. “They are trackable, corruptible, hackable. Pretty much any -able you can think of. That’s why I don’t have any implants. Take it out.”
“You are paranoid,” Hessa said.
“Nope. I’m not,” Roak said. “Implants are a weakness. They are a chink in my armor.”
“Implants are the least of your worries, Roak,” Hessa said. “You should be more concerned with your suicidal predilections as well as your reckless disregard for logic or reason.”
“How’s that again?” Roak asked. He lowered his feet and sat up straight. “I take risks, yeah, but I neither disregard logic nor reason.”
“But you are suicidal,” Hessa said.
“The job is suicidal,” Roak said. “Anyone that goes into this business has to have some sort of death wish. It goes with the territory. You don’t become a bounty hunter unless there is something damaged inside you.”
“And what is damaged inside you, Roak?” Hessa asked.
“Whoa, no, I don’t think so,” Roak said. “There is no way in all the Hells in all the galaxies in this universe that I am letting you psychoanalyze me.”
“I am simply trying to assess your stability,” Hessa said. “That will help dictate the next course of action.”
“Dictate the what?” Roak asked. “The next course of action is you take me to my ship.”
“Do you know where your ship is?” Hessa asked.
“Yes,” Roak said. “It’s been sent to a scrap dealer. I activated the Goodbye Protocol so I can get the coordinates anytime I want.”
“Then you should do that,” Hessa said. “Or would it be easier to call Commander Nimm? I believe she is the one that facilitated having your ship sent to the scrap dealer. She will know the coordinates of the scrap planet too, yes?”
“You know too much,” Roak said. He slammed a fist on the console. “You know too damn much! I am not liking this, Hessa.”
“I have no desire to cause you distress, Roak,” Hessa said. “In fact, I intended the opposite. I believe you have been working your job solo for too long. You need a partner.”
Roak choked back several very bitter, very insulting sentences. He struggled to find words that wouldn’t cause the AI to jettison him into space. When he couldn’t come up with anything that didn’t degrade her down to the level of a rusty toaster, he clamped his lips shut and stood.
He wasn’t one hundred percent, so the bridge whirled a bit and he had to take a step or two to catch his balance, but he managed not to fall on his face. For his next trick, he stormed to the bridge doors. They didn’t open automatically like they should hav
e.
“Hessa? Are you keeping me prisoner on the bridge? Roak asked.
“I am isolating you so you do not do any damage that you will later regret,” Hessa said. “Also, it is rude to walk out on someone when they are trying to have a conversation with you. I saved your life, Roak. I sent Marley to you, which is the only reason you are still alive.”
“Marley,” Roak said quietly. He turned and walked back to the pilot’s seat. No point in arguing with an AI when that AI has total control over the ship. “What went down back there again? You told me, but it’s sketchy.”
“Marley was outfitted with a good amount of explosives,” Hessa said, sounding bored. “When the opportunity presented itself, he detonated said explosives, killing Mr. Wrenn and everyone around that man. It also destroyed the observation level, opening the station to space. I anticipated this and retrieved your med pod before station security could mobilize and retaliate.”
“You used Marley to break me out of the Void House,” Roak said.
“I used Marley to break you out of the Void House,” Hessa replied. “The man was dying and he was a willing participant. He thought highly of you, Roak. As an AI, I understand just how important that feeling is. For an evolved being such as Marley to believe your life was worthy of his death meant that there is something deeply good about you.”
“There isn’t, trust me,” Roak replied. His kicked his feet back up onto the console. “I do my job and I move on. That’s all.”
“Is that all?” Hessa asked. “What about Veha and Deha? What about Ally? Have you moved on from them?”
“Eight Million Gods, how much of my brain did you scan while I was unconscious?” Roak snapped. “Not cool, Hessa. That is a complete violation of privacy.”
“Privacy,” Hessa snorted. “Please.”
Roak raised his eyebrows and laughed. An AI just snorted. There was some serious sarcasm and contempt in that snort.