Infinite Mayhem

by Jake Bible

  “Bishop decides he no longer wants to live on Legend,” Roak said, continuing the story. “Can’t blame him. It’s a dirthole of an asteroid and filled with scumbags.”

  “He’s not lying,” Bishop said. “Can you blame a guy for wanting out of a place that used to be a prison and basically still was just without any formal structure of misery?”

  “Yeah. You can blame a guy when the way he gets off is to sell the security codes to a crime syndicate,” Roak said. “That’s what he did. He sold the security codes to a crime syndicate which allowed even worse scumbags to take over. Anyone that tried to fight was killed. Anyone that argued at all was killed. Anyone that didn’t become slaves to the syndicate was killed. How many died, Bishop?”

  “Half,” Bishop said quietly.

  “Half,” Roak repeated louder. “Half. These were his people and he sold them out for enough chits to get him a ride to Ballyway.”

  “Always Ballyway with you people,” Yellow Eyes said.

  “How did Legend end up with the Edgers?” Reck asked.

  “The crime syndicate was one of the weaker ones,” Roak said. “They were wiped out by a rival syndicate who were wiped out by another rival syndicate who were absorbed by a merger with another crime syndicate.”

  “Still doesn’t tell me how the Edgers got ahold of Legend,” Reck said.

  “The newly merged crime syndicate picked a fight with the Edgers and lost,” Roak said. “Lost so bad that not one thug was left alive. The Edgers towed the rock out to the Edge just like with Margan Base.”

  “Then why is Bishop worried about returning?” Nimm asked. “The crime syndicate is gone.”

  “Yeah, but the people he betrayed aren’t,” Roak said. “Did I forget to mention that?”

  “You didn’t forget,” Bishop said.

  “No, I didn’t,” Roak said and laughed. “Bishop’s people were slaves to the syndicate. Several different syndicates. They know how to operate and maintain Legend better than anyone. When the Edgers took over, they freed them all from slavery, but where in all the Hells were the losers going to go? No one wanted them and they had no skills except for maintaining Legend.”

  “They could have gone to a different base,” Yellow Eyes suggested.

  “Why?” Roak asked. “To do the same job they’d already been doing? Why go somewhere new to be a janitor or plumber when you can stay where you were born and raised and at least had family and friends?”

  “Oooh, good point,” Yellow Eyes said and nodded at Bishop. “He has a good point there.”

  “Do you still have family there?” Nimm asked Bishop.

  “No. They were all killed over the years,” Bishop said. “But there are people on that rock that know who I am and have probably been dreaming of the day I return so they can get revenge.”

  “You really think anyone is still thinking about you?” Reck asked. “Seriously? They were enslaved by several crime syndicates and then freed by Edgers. Their home was towed out to the Edge, far, far away from all of Galactic Fleet society, and they have zero future other than to keep doing what they have been doing. And you have the ego to think that some of them are still holding a grudge against a punk-ass kid that sold them out for a few chits in order to get a ride to Ballyway?”

  “Yes,” Bishop said. “There’s a whole club dedicated to my death. I keep tabs on them. Or did. Been a couple of years since I checked in, but last time I did, they’d changed my form of death from hanging by my nuts to flaying and feeding me my own skin.”

  “Roak?” Reck asked. “This true?”

  “Oh, it’s true,” Roak said. “I’ve been considering dropping him off at Legend when this is all done.”

  “Really?” Bishop asked.

  “If I decide I’m going to kill you,” Roak said. “But, I haven’t decided yet. Legend’s off the list now. No point if we have to go there and cause some mayhem.”

  “Which first?” Hessa asked. “Margan or Legend?”

  “Margan!” Bishop shouted.

  “We’ll try there first,” Roak said. “But my bet is on Legend.”

  “Why is that?” Nimm asked.

  “A little easier to hide,” Roak said. “Bishop’s people could care less if a few Skrang show up.”

  “Stop calling them my people,” Bishop said.

  “You got any other people?” Reck asked.

  “And don’t count us,” Roak added.

  Bishop rolled his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. “So, Ti’Ya, want to ditch these losers and form our own team? I know a tech that could put you in a rocking synth bod that would fool even the most trained cyberneticists. Despite Roak’s gloom and doom, I do know of a few places in this galaxy where we could make a fortune then hide out for the rest of our lives.”

  “Your life would be a blip compared to mine, Bishop,” Ti’Ya said.

  “Yeah, but it’d be one of the Hells of a fun blip,” Bishop said. “So, you up for it?”

  “I’ll have to decline,” Ti’Ya said. “But thank you for the offer.”

  “No, of course, totally understand. Totally understand…” Bishop grimaced and looked at the spinning holo in the center of the bridge. “Well, might as well skip Margan. They aren’t there.”

  “Really? How can you possibly know that?” Roak asked. He crossed his arms in irritation and stared hard at Bishop. “Something we don’t know that you do?”

  “Uh, yeah, pal,” Bishop replied with a huge smirk. “Margan is toast. The place was lit up a few weeks ago. Dust up between some Edgers and a former GF marine and his heist crew. Barely anyone survived.”

  “Hessa? You got anything on that?” Roak asked without breaking his stare at Bishop.

  “Bishop is correct,” Ti’Ya answered first. “I do see a quick mention of Margan Base being destroyed. I never had a chance to confirm for myself, so I consider it a rumor and not fact.”

  “I agree,” Hessa said.

  “It’s fact,” Bishop said, still smirking. “Otherwise, why would I willingly suggest skipping the place and heading to the one hunk of rock I never want to see again?”

  “A trap set by Father?” Yellow Eyes suggested. Everyone turned to look at him. “What? I mean, if Bishop is still being manipulated by Father, then this would be a great trap to set for us. Am I wrong here?”

  “No, Yellow Eyes, you are not wrong,” Roak said.

  All eyes returned to Bishop.

  “Thanks, pal,” Bishop said to Yellow Eyes. “I had things under control for a second there. Way to go with the assist.”

  “Huh? Oh, sure, man. No problem,” Yellow Eyes said.

  “Doesn’t feel like a trap set by Father,” Reck said after a few seconds of silence. “Skrang led us to this point. If there’s a trap, it’s set by the Skrang, not by Father.”

  “She’s right,” Nimm said. “I don’t know who this Father is, but from the little I’ve been told, using Skrang isn’t how he operates.”

  “Roak? Trap by Father or trap by Skrang?” Bishop asked, holding his hands out in a weighing gesture.

  “Trap by Skrang if it is a trap,” Roak said. “Hessa?”

  “We’ve reached the wormhole portal,” Hessa said. “You’ll want to take a seat.”

  Roak took his seat, but kept his attention on Bishop.

  “Entering trans-space in three, two, one,” Hessa announced.

  The view outside the ship changed from one of an undulating circle of energy that was the wormhole portal, to a swirling mass of colors and shapes that was trans-space. Roak grunted at the transition.

  “I find it funny how trans-space affects you physically, Roak,” Bishop said. “Not exactly what a bounty hunter wants to deal with, is it, pal?”

  “I’m good,” Roak said as he took a couple of deep breaths. “Result of too many stays in a med pod.”

  “That’s for sure,” Hessa said. “If we had a chit for every minute I’ve had to fix you up, then we wouldn’t need to take jobs for”—”


  “They get it, Hessa,” Roak said and relaxed into his seat. “Alright, we’re going to Legend. Bishop knows the place better than anyone. Can’t trust the bastard”—”

  “Sitting right here, pal,” Bishop interrupted.

  “—but trusting anyone is always a risk,” Roak continued. “Bishop? How about you educate us on your homeland?”

  “I’ll tell you what I know,” Bishop said. “But I haven’t been there for a very long time, so there are bound to be changes.”

  “I’m sure Ti’Ya can help fill in gaps or make adjustments based on her knowledge,” Roak said. “Yes, Ti’Ya?”

  “Yes,” Ti’Ya replied. “Gladly.”

  “The floor is yours,” Roak said to Bishop. “Pal.”

  18.

  Roak lay in his quarters and stared up at the ceiling. He should have been resting; the ship was only one wormhole junction away from Legend, but sleep was not happening at that moment.

  “Hessa?”

  “Yes, Roak?”

  “Let’s poke holes in the plan.”

  “You have poked many holes in the plan already. Sleep, Roak.”

  “Sleep ain’t happening right now. Might as well work.”

  Hessa sighed.

  “Fine, Roak. Fine. Let’s poke more holes in the plan.”

  Roak closed his eyes to concentrate.

  “Former prison, so one way in, one way out,” he began.

  “We’ve covered that.”

  “Hessa? Let me work.”

  “Yes, right, sorry, Roak. Do your thing.”

  “One way in, one way out,” Roak continued. “That is our main problem. But with the changes to the ship, we don’t have the same signature as we used to, so we shouldn’t be tagged immediately.”

  “Especially if I drop you off as if you were only getting a ride,” Hessa said. “Then I take the ship just out of scanner range, put it into stealth mode, and wait for your call.”

  “Once on Legend, we’ll make straight for the nearest bar.”

  “As one would.”

  “Bishop will be suited up as if he’s a race that doesn’t handle standard atmosphere well. That’ll hide his identity. I can wear a helmet with my light armor which should hide my identity. No one knows Reck. And Nimm isn’t on the radar.”

  “We assume. That is a big question mark there, Roak. Beem could have put her face out on all the holo channels and back channels. Finding Nimm might be easier than finding you.”

  “It’s the Edge, Hessa. Beem can send them whatever he wants and they won’t give a shit. In fact, it might boost Nimm’s status if she is recognized and known as a wanted individual by the Galactic Fleet.”

  “Or someone could sell her out, which means selling us all out, in order to make some chits and gain a contact with the GF.”

  “That’s just as likely. We’ll be prepared for that. I’m always prepared to be sold out.”

  “Unless it’s by friends like Bishop.”

  Roak growled low.

  “I’m only stating the obvious,” Hessa insisted. “No need to get defensive.”

  “No need to get defensive?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Back to the plan. We hit the first bar. I’m with Bishop and Yellow Eyes, Reck is with Nimm. Divides the skill sets nicely. If there are no leads in the first bar, then I send Yellow Eyes out to search the other bars while we stay put. Less suspicious if we stay in one spot and drink for a while.”

  “Meanwhile, while you are drinking, I will have tapped into Legend’s security systems and will be monitoring any and all surveillance and communications.”

  “You’re sure you can do that from outside scanner range?”

  “Roak, Roak, Roak…”

  “Hessa, Hessa, Hessa…”

  “I have Ti’Ya’s assistance now. Our combined processing power is rather impressive. There will be a time lag because of the distance, but it will be minimal. A couple seconds at the most.”

  “And our comm links won’t be detected?”

  “Now you’re being insulting. No need for that, Roak.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, your comm links are never detected. But Edgers are wily sons of bitches. And after our time on Razer Station, one of them may have figured out how to detect sub-channels like you use.”

  “I do not use sub-channels.”

  “What? I thought you said you use sub-channels.”

  “Did I say that? Hmmm…”

  “Cute.”

  “I try.”

  “Moving on. We find the Skrang, which really shouldn’t be too hard since they will stand out even among Edgers. Find them, get them to admit where the chits are, take the chits from them, call you, you come get us, we get all the Hells away from Legend, deliver the chits, take our cut, go see Sha Tog, arm this ship like a Borgon has never been armed before, then get Bishop’s files.”

  “Is that all?” Hessa laughed. “You know this is very optimistic for you, Roak? Any one of those steps could mean failure.”

  “I expect at least one of those steps to fail. Probably most of those steps. But that’s the plan. When it does fall apart, I’ll wing it like I usually do and we’ll still end up with what we need.”

  “Because you’re Roak.”

  “Because I’m Roak.”

  They stayed silent for a couple of minutes.

  “We’ll be exiting trans-space in less than an hour,” Hessa announced. “The next wormhole portal is close, so only an hour or so of travel then we’ll be back in trans-space. The last leg will take us less than ninety minutes.”

  “I can sleep for a couple hours,” Roak said, his eyes wide open.

  “I can have a bot bring a sedative.”

  “Not a chance in all the Hells.”

  “Then close your Eight Million Gods damn eyes, Roak.”

  Roak couldn’t help but laugh. He nodded, closed his eyes, and took several deep breaths.

  A loud banging on his door woke him. Roak grabbed for his Flott, but it and the holster were sitting on a table across his quarters. He swung his legs off his bed fast and stood up.

  “Hessa?”

  No answer.

  “Hessa? Are we out of trans-space?”

  Still no answer. The banging at his door continued.

  Roak crossed to his Flott, picked it up, and held it down close to his thigh as he went to the door. He smacked a palm against the controls and watched as the door slid open unusually slow.

  “Hello, Roak,” Father said as he shoved past Roak and stepped into the quarters. “Nice place you have here, son.”

  Roak tried to lift the Flott, but his arm wouldn’t obey and the pistol stayed pressed to his leg, the barrel aiming at the floor.

  “How…?” Roak asked.

  Father turned and faced Roak. The man’s face was a jumble of features. Roak couldn’t make any sense of what he was seeing. Except for a smile. A familiar smile that was like looking into a mirror. That smile stood out as Father sat down on Roak’s made bed.

  “Hessa? What’s going on?” Roak asked.

  “No, no, no, Roak,” Father said, waving his hand as if he was shooing away a gnat. “That won’t work. Not here. Not now.”

  “You’re on my ship,” Roak said. “How did you get on my ship?”

  “I am not on your ship, Roak,” Father stated. “Pay attention.” He spread his arms wide. “Does any of this seem real? Does it feel real? Wouldn’t your faithful AI companion be answering your calls if it was real?”

  “A dream,” Roak stated and tried to walk over to the table. He couldn’t move. “Crappy dream.”

  “A dream? How cliché, Roak,” Father said as he sat down on the bed and stretched out with his hands behind his head.

  His features were still a jumble and looking at him gave Roak a slight headache.

  “No, Roak, what this is, is a cross-galactic communication that is only between us,” Father said. “While the environment is not real, our conversation is. I am actually s
peaking to you and you are actually speaking to me.”

  “You’re in my head?” Roak snapped. “How in all the Hells did you get in my head?”

  “Stroke of luck, really,” Father said. “Someone on board your ship sent a coded message to a comm signature I have been monitoring. While I was too late to intercept the message itself, I was able to trace the comm signature back to your ship. All it took was a little ingenuity, a piggyback protocol that tricked your system into thinking I’m simply a bit of space noise, and here I am. But we do have to hurry. Your AI is already getting suspicious.”

  “Then I’ll wait it out until she finds your ass,” Roak responded.

  “No, no, she can’t find me. She can cut me off, but there is no way she can ping my location, no matter how hard she tries. And that old AI acquaintance you picked up isn’t going to be able to help, either. I’m very careful, as you know.” Father turned his head to face Roak and that smile was nearly blinding. “Care to know why I’m here?”

  “Not really.”

  “Always so Roak.” Father chuckled. “I am here to make you an offer, Roak. Come in, return to me willingly, and I will put our past behind us. We will work together on what I have planned for the galaxy. You and I, side by side, equals and partners. The power we will wield will know no bounds.”

  “I said I didn’t want to know why you’re here. You can leave anytime you want. I’d show you the door, but you know where it is.”

  “Boundless power doesn’t interest you in the slightest?”

  “Nope. Sounds like a big mess to me.”

  “Oh, well, I tried.” Father stood up and stretched. “By the way, Roak, what are you doing all the way out at the Edge? A little risky considering your standing with the Edgers.”

  “There’s a donut place I like out here.”

  “I thought you were a noodles guy?”

  “Man can’t live on noodles alone.”

  “Wise words. Well, enjoy those donuts. I’ll be seeing you soon.”

  Father walked to the door, waited for it to open, then stepped out into the corridor. As soon as he left the quarters, Roak could move again. He lifted the Flott, rushed to the door and hurried into the corridor. Empty.

  “Right,” Roak said and lowered his pistol. “Time to wake up now.”