Nebula Risen

by Jake Bible

  “I don’t get it,” the Skrang replied. “You want me to turn you in?”

  Roak didn’t reply. He stared at the Skrang until the guy nodded.

  “Oh, right, yeah, I report Roak,” the Skrang said. “You never said you was Roak. I get it.” The Skrang smiled and shook his head. “Don’t see why, though. Don’t see it at all.”

  “The why isn’t your concern,” Roak said. “You want to earn some chits or not?”

  “I always do,” the Skrang said then glanced around the lot. “You took down my gang, so I’ll need some extra to set them back up. You hurt them good.”

  “I killed two,” Roak said. “The first shots. Those guys of yours are dead. That going to be a problem?”

  “I don’t like it, but got no choice,” the Skrang said. “I gotta do what you say or you shoot my eyes out. Or kill me. Either way, I get hurt bad.”

  “Yeah, death is a pretty bad hurt,” Roak said and rolled his eyes. “I’ll give you ten thousand chits if you report that you saw Roak. But not until I’m off this planet.”

  “Ten thousand? No way,” the Skrang said. “Double it.”

  “How about five thousand?” Roak replied.

  “That ain’t double,” the Skrang said and counted on his scaly fingers. “That’s half!”

  “I can go lower, if you want?”

  “Why would you go lower? That don’t make sense.”

  “Two thousand?”

  “Stop!” the Skrang shouted. “I’ll take the ten. Give me ten and I’ll make a report for any time you want me to make a report.”

  “You also will never set one scaly foot on this lot again,” Roak said. “You do and I come back and losing your eyes will be the fun part of our next interaction.”

  “You got a mean streak,” the Skrang said and frowned. “Yeah. Ten thousand and I make the report when you’re gone and I don’t bug the putty man no more.”

  “Good, because he’s the guy that’s gonna make sure you get paid,” Roak said. “Now, get the hell out of here. Take your punks with you.”

  “Even the dead ones?”

  “Especially the Eight Million Godsdamn dead ones!” Roak snapped. “Go!”

  The Skrang hurried to help up the wounded members of his gang. He limped them back to a dusty open-top roller that sat at the edge of the lot then he looked back at Roak and raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes, you can use it to move your dead,” Roak said, the KL09 following the Skrang as he jumped into the vehicle, drove it over to where the two corpses lay, and loaded them into the back. He was huffing and puffing by the time he got back behind the wheel and slowly drove past Roak, his eyes on the pistol the whole time. “Do what you’re told and you get chits and get to stay alive.”

  The Skrang nodded then floored it and raced away from the lot. Roak watched them go until all he could see was a far off dust cloud.

  “Bhangul?” Roak called.

  “Still breathing,” Bhangul replied. “You gonna come help me up or what?”

  “Yeah,” Roak said and holstered his pistol. “You got a med pod inside or do you want to use the one on my ship?”

  “I got my own,” Bhangul said. “I’d be a sad sack if I didn’t. Just get me into the office.”

  “Coming,” Roak said and wove his way through the rows of vehicles until he came to the prone form of Bhangul. “Am I going to have to carry you?”

  “Afraid so, old friend,” Bhangul said. “This ain’t as much of an act as I made it look.”

  “Fine,” Roak said and squatted to pick the Dornopheous up from the ground. “Shit, Bhangul, you’ve put on some weight.”

  “Sitting behind a desk will do that,” Bhangul said. “Now, get me inside and down to the basement. I’m fading fast.”

  Roak grunted as he carried Bhangul up the steps and into the office. He helped the man activate the secret lift that would take them down to the basement level where the vehicles of value were kept.

  As Roak held Bhangul, he hoped he’d made the right call with the Skrang. If he read the punk right, the greed for chits outweighed any anger against Roak. That should buy him some time for ship repairs and a little misdirection.

  28.

  Roak stared at the tube with the glowing blue gel inside.

  He was lying on his bed in his cabin, waiting for Bhangul’s bots to finish the last of the repairs so his ship was in tip-top shape. He’d need every advantage possible to make it back to Jafla Base and deliver the tube into Shava Stemn Shava’s hands.

  “Have you considered calling Shava Stemn Shava and explaining what has happened?” Hessa asked.

  “I’ve thought about it, but it’s not going to make much difference,” Roak replied. “He’s going to be out for blood the whole way whether I talk to him or not. I need a face to face, and to hand him this tube, in order to convince him I didn’t kill Ple.”

  “He still may not believe you,” Hessa said.

  “Maybe not, but he’ll have the genetic code,” Roak said. “I know men like Shava Stemn Shava. They let a lot slide if it means getting results. He’ll hold a grudge, but I don’t think he’ll pursue a vendetta. Not that he has one to pursue. I didn’t kill Ple.”

  “This Pechu Magafa person,” Hessa said. “I have some information on her if you would like to see it.”

  “You do? Like what?” Roak asked as a panel opened on his wall and a stream of information began to fill a vid display.

  “She was born into the Shilo Syndicate,” Hessa said. “Her mother was a prostitute and worked for many of the mid-level managers. One of them liked her enough to buy her freedom. She bore him eight children, not including Pechu.”

  “So, she’s a halfer?” Roak asked.

  “No,” Hessa answered. “The mid-level manager was Lipian too. Probably why he bought the mother’s freedom instead of simply buying her for his own to keep.”

  “Okay. Interesting history there,” Roak said.

  “What is more interesting is that of the siblings, all are dead except for Pechu.”

  “Dead? How did they die?”

  “Two at childbirth, but the rest died in various accidents over the years,” Hessa said.

  “Accidents?” Roak asked and laughed. “Any accidents that can be tied to Pechu?”

  “Nothing conclusive, but evidence points in her direction,” Hessa said. “She was the youngest of her siblings and may have resented that fact. It meant she would be entitled to less of the family profits and have almost no chance to work her way up in the syndicate. Her fate was almost certainly to be married off to another mid-level manager’s son or daughter so her father could gain more power and favor within Shilo.”

  “Ass backwards bunch of idiots,” Roak said. “They have this structure in place that only ends up forcing them to feed off each other. All the syndicates are like that. I don’t know how they manage to survive.”

  “Brutality and illegality,” Hessa stated. “A tried and true formula that dates back to Earth days.”

  Roak spat. It was bad luck to mention the wasteland of Earth and not spit.

  “Okay, so she offed her siblings and became Daddy’s only heir,” Roak said. “What’d she inherit? She’s not a Wrenn, so how did she end up taking control of Shilo?”

  “She may have had some backing,” Hessa said. “I have found evidence of influence from one of the other syndicates.”

  Roak waited, but Hessa did not elaborate.

  “Do I need to give you a drum roll?” he snapped.

  “You will not like this,” Hessa said.

  “Already ten steps ahead of you,” Roak replied. “Who backed her play for Mr. Wrenn’s open seat?”

  “That would be the Willz Syndicate,” Hessa said. “It cannot be confirmed, but I have connected enough dots to say with a ninety-eight percent certainty that it was the Willz Syndicate that used its influence within Shilo to put her in power.”

  “You have got to be kidding,” Roak said and flopped back on his bed. He stare
d at the tube for a second. “Hessa? Can you comm Yelt Willz for me?”

  “Is that wise?” Hessa asked. “You left on good terms with the man.”

  “Jirk,” Roak said. “He’s a Jirk and he knows I know that. I think it’s time I used that leverage.”

  “Roak, that is not a good idea,” Hessa warned. “You were allowed to leave the Caboria Station because you assured Yelt Willz you would forget his family secret.”

  “I agree with you,” Roak said. “Seriously. But this may be our only play. We are going to have one hell of a gauntlet to run to get from here to Jafla Base. Willz might be able to ease some of the pressure.”

  “Or Yelt Willz will see you as a dangerous threat to his life and livelihood,” Hessa said. “Which will only compound our trouble. If Willz backed Pechu Magafa’s rise, then helping you is not in his best interest. Instead of the Shilo Syndicate coming for us, we will also have the Willz Syndicate coming for us. I do not like this plan, Roak.”

  “I told you I agree, but we have no choice,” Roak said. “Comm him. Now.”

  Hessa huffed then made the connection.

  “Speak,” the voice of Yelt Willz barked. “Who is this and how did you get my comm signature?” There was some muffled shouting then Yelt returned. “I am having this signature traced. I will find you and make sure that every inch of your–”

  “Yelt Willz, it’s Roak,” Roak interrupted. “Got a minute to chat?”

  There was silence for a second then, “Mr. Roak. What a pleasure it is to hear from you.”

  “Roak. Just Roak,” Roak said. “And I’m glad you think it’s a pleasure.”

  “Oh, it is, it is,” Yelt said. “You have made quite the stir out there in the galaxy since you left my presence. What is all this about you double-crossing Shava Stemn Shava? He is not as dangerous as, say, I am, but he is not a man that you should be toying with. What happened, Roak? Did he try to pay you in credits?”

  Yelt barked a harsh laugh and it sounded like he was hocking up a lung for a few seconds. Roak waited until the man got himself under control.

  “Gonna need to cash in a favor,” Roak said.

  More silence then a tsking noise.

  “Mr. Roak, I do not owe you any favors,” Yelt said.

  Roak let the mister part go that time.

  “I paid you the amount of chits that we agreed upon and you went along on your way,” Yelt said. “Our business is concluded, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Hold on,” Roak snapped. “It’s not that easy, Willz. If it was, I wouldn’t be calling you. You do owe me a favor since I hold a secret of yours.”

  “You said you would forget that secret, Roak,” Yelt snarled. Roak could almost hear the man foaming at the mouth. “Bringing that up now is the wrong move. You already have Shilo on you, do you want Willz on you as well? I think not. Good day, Roak.”

  “If you don’t help me, then I broadcast what I know to every single contact I have ever made in my entire career as a bounty hunter,” Roak said. “You there, Willz? Do you hear me? Cut this comm, and the first thing I do is record a vid and scatter it across the galaxy.”

  Yelt’s heavy breathing could be heard.

  “What do you want?” he finally asked.

  “I need safe passage to Jafla Base,” Roak said.

  “Are you mad?” Yelt shouted. “Safe passage? If I gave you safe passage to Jafla Base that would essentially be declaring war on the Shilo Syndicate!”

  “I already know you helped put Pechu Magafa in power,” Roak said.

  “I specifically backed Pechu Magafa in order to avoid ever having to deal with a war with Shilo Syndicate, you idiot!” Yelt shouted. “No! Tell the galaxy what you know! I will deny it and deal with the aftermath!”

  The comm went dead.

  “Well, that was less than productive,” Hessa said.

  “Keep the channel open,” Roak said.

  “What? If they are tracking our comm, then they will be able to hone in on us,” Hessa said. “I am not keeping the channel open, Roak. You have lost your–”

  The comm beeped and Roak answered.

  “Mr. Willz,” Roak said.

  “I cannot give you safe passage,” Yelt growled. “But I can direct you around the worst of the traps. It will not be easy, Roak. Every syndicate in the galaxy is working to find you. There is a rumor you hold the key to Shava Stemn Shava’s empire. He is not syndicate, but he would be a jewel in the crown of any one of our operations.”

  “I’m not giving you the key,” Roak said. “I was hired to do a job, I’m going to complete the job, then I’m going to walk away and let the rest of you figure out what comes next. My job will be done.”

  “Such confident optimism,” Yelt said. “You truly believe you can walk away. Remarkable.”

  “You help me and I swear that your secret is never revealed,” Roak said. “I may even assist you in disseminating some misdirection to throw off anyone that may find the truth down the line. Give you some plausible deniability.”

  “Lovely phrase, that,” Yelt said. “Plausible deniability. Yes. That could work.”

  “Then we have a deal?” Roak asked.

  “Yes,” Yelt said. “But I refuse our terms to be based on blackmail. It irritates me.”

  “Then what do you propose?” Roak asked.

  “You will owe me two jobs on the house,” Yelt said. “They will be jobs of my choosing and you cannot refuse them. You will perform the jobs when I call you, without argument.”

  “Unless I am on another job,” Roak said.

  “No, even then,” Yelt replied. “I call, you get to work.”

  “I finish the job I may be working on first,” Roak said. “I take a job, I finish a job, I get paid for a job. I never deviate from that formula, Willz. Never.”

  “I see,” Yelt replied and sighed with great exaggeration. “Fine. When I need you, if you are currently engaged in a different job, then you may complete that job before you take on mine. But only once. The second and final job has no such caveat. I refuse to negotiate further, Roak. Take the offer or leave it.”

  “I’ll take it,” Roak said without hesitation. “You have my comm signature. Send me the safest route I should take to Jafla Base and your secret will never be revealed.”

  “And you will owe me two jobs,” Yelt said with way too much glee in his voice. “I would like to hear you say it.”

  “And I will owe you two jobs.”

  “Of my choosing.”

  “Of your choosing.”

  “Excellent!” Yelt exclaimed. “Now, since our business is done here, I believe I will get back to my work at hand. Duplicitous offspring do not learn lessons on their own. Your route will be incoming within the hour.”

  The comm connection was cut. On both ends.

  “We need to leave,” Hessa said. “Now, Roak.”

  “Agreed,” Roak said. “Get the ship prepped. I’ll go say goodbye to Bhangul. We’ll take off the second we have that route.”

  “Roak?”

  “Yeah? What?”

  “The woman. The bounty hunter that Pechu Magafa has hired. She will still come for the Jonny Nebula code,” Hessa said. “Your arrangement with Yelt Willz cannot stop that. What is your plan to deal with her?”

  “I don’t have a plan,” Roak said. “I expect her to find me. She promised she would. She never breaks a promise, and just like me, she always completes a job.”

  “You two are very similar,” Hessa said. “Is there a particular reason as to why?”

  “Nice try, Hessa,” Roak said. “But my past is my past and it stays there. Prep the ship and let me know the second that route is transmitted to you.”

  “Yes, Roak.”

  29.

  Bhangul was sitting upright in a very comfortable-looking chair in the well-apportioned dwelling he had set up off to the side of the underground hangar that held all of the real merchandise that he was known for moving. No reputable dealer would sell to some
one like Roak, or make modifications to a ship that were so far outside the law that even looking at the blueprints could get a person thrown onto a prison moon for decades.

  So they came to Bhangul. Which meant he couldn’t travel far from his precious inventory. So work was home and home was work.

  “You do what I needed?” Roak asked.

  “You’ll bankrupt me,” Bhangul said then nodded. “I did it.”

  “Thank you,” Roak said and set a case down. “Payment.”

  “And I thank you,” Bhangul said. “What did that mind of yours manage to figure out?”

  “I cut a deal with Yelt Willz,” Roak said.

  “A deal with the Willz Syndicate? That’s surprising. I heard they are cozy with the Shilo Syndicate. Kind of a conflict of interest there, don’t you think.”

  “A major conflict,” Roak said. “But I had a card to play and I played it. I may have overplayed it, but we’ll see.”

  “You always overplay,” Bhangul said. “It’s what makes you Roak.”

  “You going to be good here?” Roak asked.

  “Listen to you being all soft,” Bhangul said.

  “You do good work, Bhangul,” Roak said. “No question about that. Despite the issues I may have with the AI in the ship you sold me.”

  “Sold you? Not sure that’s how I would put it,” Bhangul said and laughed. “But, yes, that AI made selling that ship near to impossible. I’m glad she hasn’t killed you or anything.”

  “She hasn’t yet, but give her time,” Roak said. He took a small box from his belt and set it on the side table by Bhangul’s chair. “This is for the Skrang punk. Give it to him and tell him to do what he’s getting paid to do.”

  “He will mess it up,” Bhangul said.

  “I know,” Roak replied and shrugged. “But it may cause just enough confusion for me to get enough of a head start that I might actually survive this.”

  “You’re worried,” Bhangul stated. “Don’t argue. You’re worried. Who is she that she has you so worried?”

  “A phantom,” Roak said and left the small dwelling.