Quantum Chaos: A Roak: Galactic Bounty Hunter Novel Read online

  "How many snipers you got watching me?" Roak asked.

  "Only need the one," Chann said.

  2.

  Roak didn't know how it was possible, but the tavern he found himself in was in worse shape than the one with the Groshnel bartender and Cervile "drunk". He also didn't know how it was possible that the place could stink more inside than outside.

  Everyday was grease trap day for the pitiful patrons inside the tavern. Unfortunately for Roak, he was about to become one of those pitiful patrons.

  "Over here," Chann said and led Roak to a back table while Shick stepped up to the bar.

  They were obviously regulars from the way the bartender greeted Shick. Shick placed the order then wound his way through the tables to Roak and Chann.

  Chann indicated for Roak to slide into the booth first. He did. Shick squeezed in next to him, effectively pinning Roak to the tavern's wall. It wasn't exactly a clean and sterile wall and the light armor Roak wore kept sticking to the surface, making a wet sucking sound every time he tried to shift positions and pull his shoulder away.

  "Stop wiggling," Shick said.

  "I don't wiggle," Roak replied. "Ever."

  "Well you are now," Shick snapped. "So stop it."

  Chann sat across from Roak and waited patiently while the bartender brought over their drinks. All three glasses were filled with a muddy brown substance that Roak wasn't sure was entirely liquid.

  "I've had my fill back at the other tavern," Roak said.

  "Drink," Shick said.

  "Drink," Chann insisted.

  "I'd rather not," Roak said.

  The three of them sat there, no one saying a word, as Roak waited for Chann and Shick to give in.

  Twenty minutes later, Hessa said, "Roak? Maybe have a sip."

  "I can wait all night," Roak stated.

  "So can we," Chann replied. "Fleet Marines know how to wait."

  "He was GF too?" Roak asked, hooking his thumb at Shick.

  "Sitting right here, asshole," Shick snarled. "Ask me directly."

  "No problem," Roak said and turned to face Shick. "You were GF too?"

  "In a past life," Shick said. "Before…"

  "Before Javsatem?" Roak said.

  Both Shick and Chann tensed. For a brief moment, Roak was certain that Shick was going to throttle him and Chann was going to bolt. Then the two shared a look and the moment passed.

  "No idea what you're talking about," Chann said.

  "Drink your drink," Shick said.

  "I'm thinking no," Roak said. "I don't know what the Eight Million Gods damn stuff is and I don't want to find out. Not to mention the chance you drugged-"

  Shick switched his drink for Roak's and pounded Roak's drink down in one swallow.

  "Not drugged," Shick said.

  "Listen, I'll buy you as many rounds as you want," Roak said, "but I'm not drinking with you. All I need is info."

  "Info on an outpost we know nothing about," Chann said. He sipped his drink and frowned. "This really is terpigshit."

  "Only thing I can taste," Shick said and took Chann's drink for himself and downed it. He eyed Roak until Roak nodded and he took that one as well. "Bottoms up."

  He finished Roak's drink and snapped his massive fingers. The bartender made his way over with three more glasses.

  "These are mine," Shick said as the glasses were set on the table. "Don't know what they want."

  "You got any Klav whiskey?" Roak asked.

  "Big spender," Chann said.

  The bartender only laughed and walked away.

  "Guess that's a no," Roak said.

  Roak slowly, careful not to spook Shick, grabbed the pouch from his belt. He emptied the pouch on the table and the din of constant noise in the tavern lessened a good amount at the sound of chits clinking together.

  "I can triple this if your intel turns out to be right," Roak said. "How do I find Javsatem?"

  "Couldn't tell you," Chann said. "Never heard of-"

  "Don't," Roak said. "I didn't say it was an outpost, you did. You know what Javsatem is and you know where it is."

  "Nope," Shick said.

  "I believe they are afraid you are there to bust them for the heist they pulled before they ended up on Javsatem," Hessa said.

  "Right," Roak said. "Listen, I don't give twenty terpigshits about the job you pulled against the Skrang. I don't care about the loot you stole and sold. I really do not care. All I care about is how to get to Javsatem."

  "Do you know what that word means?" Chann asked. "Javsatem?"

  "It's an old Ferg word," Roak said. "It means Hell."

  "Yeah, it does," Shick said. "You ever been to Hell, Roak?"

  "Sitting in it right now," Roak replied, stone-faced.

  "No," Shick said. "This is only Purgatory."

  "If we did know what you're talking about," Chann said, "why out of all the Hells would you want to go to that one?"

  "Doesn't matter," Roak said. "I just need to know how to get there."

  Chann snorted. Shick grunted. They shared another look then both relaxed.

  "Your funeral," Chann said.

  "So you'll get me the coordinates?" Roak asked.

  "Nope," Chann replied. "But we can get you the log from the ship that we escaped in. Best we can do."

  "What does he mean?" Hessa asked. "A log would have the coordinates. Why not give us the coordinates? This is weird, Roak."

  "Why the log?" Roak asked Chann.

  "Because the place doesn't have coordinates," Chann said. "Well, it does, but they are unreliable. You want to get to Outpost Hell then you have to follow the log. Retrace our steps backward."

  "It's why the GF chose the location for the outpost," Shick said. "Hard to find, even harder to get to."

  "And gonna cost you a lot more than what you're offering," Chann said. "The log won't be cheap."

  "You don't have the log?" Roak asked.

  "Why would we have the log?" Chann responded. "None of us ever want to go back to that place."

  Chann leaned forward, his eyes narrowed and wary.

  "You don't want to go there either," Chann continued. "It's not a safe place for living beings, especially not humans."

  "Who said I was human?" Roak replied. "And I'll be fine. Don't worry."

  "No. You won't," Shick said.

  "You really won't," Chann said.

  Roak leaned back in the booth and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked up at the ceiling for a second, regretted the choice as soon as he saw the various unknown substances that looked ready to drip down on him, then focused back on Chann.

  "The planet is plagued with storms," Roak said.

  "Understatement," Shick scoffed.

  "It's also inhabited by AIs," Roak continued. "Some very formidable AIs. AIs that may have ambitions to do some serious damage to the Galactic Fleet and the galaxy as a whole."

  Roak smiled at the looks of surprise on Chann and Shick's faces. Roak was surprised himself when neither of the men cringed at Roak's smile. Most beings could barely tolerate looking at Roak when he smiled, but those two had no reaction at all.

  "You know about the AIs and still want to go there?" Chann laughed. "You're a million times crazier than your reputation. You may be some galactic badass, but you're no match for those AIs. They're…different."

  "I have my own different AI," Roak said.

  "Excuse me?" Hessa snapped. "Your own?"

  Roak ignored her.

  "You're not getting it," Chann said. "These aren't androids or advanced AIs running GF mainframes or destroyers. They think they're people."

  "I've run into an AI before in a flesh suit," Roak said. "Nothing about Javsatem will shock me."

  "Until they jam a plasma coil up your ass," Shick said. "That'll shock you."

  "Just get me the log," Roak said.

  "You get us ten times the chits and we'll get you the log," Chann said. "What you do with it is your own business."

  "Ten times th
e chits?" Hessa exclaimed.

  "Eight Million Gods damn right it's my business," Roak said. "Ten times the chits?"

  "Ten times the chits," Chann said.

  "We can afford that. Barely," Hessa said. "If Agent Prime comes through with the FIS funds he said he could get."

  "We can make it happen," Roak said. "How much time do you need to get the log?"

  "A galactic standard week," Chann replied.

  "You have two days," Roak responded then stared hard at Shick. "Move."

  Shick did not move.

  "No way we can get the log in two days," Chann said.

  "Two days is the timeframe," Roak said, still staring at Shick. "Two seconds is your time frame to move, ugly."

  "Ugly?" Shick laughed. "Your scarred up face ain't exactly winning beauty prizes."

  "Yeah, Roak, maybe name calling isn't the way to go," Hessa said.

  "Just get out of my way," Roak said to Shick.

  The warped man didn't budge.

  "We're going to need upfront payment," Chann said. "We have to grease a few wheels to get that log."

  "Grease wheels?" Roak laughed.

  A few of the tavern's patrons turned to see what the horrible noise was. They turned back to the drinks as soon as they saw the look on Roak's face.

  "You and your old comrades not on speaking terms?" Roak asked.

  "Our old comrades are all dead," Chann said. "They made some bad decisions and got themselves taken out. Which is why the ship is impounded on Chafa."

  Roak's lip curled up in disgust and irritation at the mention of the impound planet. He'd always had bad luck on that toxic place.

  "Impounded? It could be scrap by now." Roak rolled his head on his neck. "How do I know you won't take the chits, go get your ship, and disappear without getting me the log?"

  "Because we have no way off this planet," Chann said. "You think we want to stay on Xippee?"

  Roak narrowed his eyes. "You want a ride to get the log," he stated.

  "We just want a ride off this damn planet," Shick said a little too loud.

  More patrons turned to regard the meeting. Some kept their eyes on the three men longer than was needed. Roak made note of each being that let their gaze linger.

  "Ten times the chits and a ride," Roak said. "We can handle two more passengers."

  "Don't forget the sniper," Hessa said.

  "Three passengers," Roak added. "Then we dump you off at the closest habitable station, planet, moon, asteroid, whatever."

  "Works for me," Chann said. He looked at Shick. The big guy nodded. "Guess we have a deal."

  "Great. Can you move your ass now?" Roak asked Shick. "And tell your sniper buddy not to shoot me when I leave."

  "What? That's it? We aren't coming with you?" Chann asked.

  "I gave you two days," Roak said. "Use them to make sure everything will be smooth as terpig lard when we get to Chafa. I don't want any surprises."

  Hessa snorted. "Life with you is nothing but surprises, Roak."

  Roak didn't respond to Hessa. Roak didn't respond when Shick slid out of the booth to let him out. Roak didn't respond when Chann started snapping his fingers close to Roak's face.

  Well, he did respond to that by grabbing Chann's wrist and slamming the hand down on the table.

  "We need to leave," Roak said quietly.

  "Roak? What is happening?" Hessa asked.

  Chann and Shick looked about the tavern, both trying to find the source of Roak's apprehension.

  "So we are going with you?" Chann asked.

  "I doubt that," a Gwreq said as she walked up to the table.

  Stone-skinned, four-armed, seven feet tall, the being looked more formidable than Shick.

  But that wasn't what had Roak worried. It was the color of the Gwreq's eyes.

  "Red eyes," Roak said.

  "Oh shit…" Hessa responded. "I'm trying to lock moltrans onto you now, Roak, but there are too many beings packed too closely together in the tavern. Can you get out to the street?"

  "Is she speaking to you, Roak?" the red-eyed Gwreq asked. "Your AI partner? Say hello to Hessa for me."

  "You know this lady?" Shick asked. He moved in closer to the red-eyed Gwreq. "Private conversation, miss. How about you move your grey-skinned self back to the bar?"

  "Back off, Shick," Roak warned. "Chann? Take your buddy and leave."

  "Leave? Because of some Gwreq?" Chann laughed. "I've dealt with way-"

  Chann's sentence was ended as the Gwreq snapped out her lower left arm, grabbed him by the back of the head, and squeezed so hard and fast that his eyeballs shot from his skull and smacked Roak in the face.

  "What the fuck?" Shick shouted and swung at the red-eyed Gwreq.

  The being moved inside the swing and landed a vicious headbutt to Shick's nose. Bone and cartilage caved inward and blood shot out in every direction.

  Before Shick's body fell, Roak had his Flott out and aimed at the red-eyed Gwreq's head.

  "We're coming for you, asshole," Roak said and squeezed the trigger.

  Gwreq's have incredibly thick skin, many times allowing them to take several plasma shots to the body without any real harm done. But no being could take a direct shot to the face.

  The red-eyed Gwreq's head turned to mist and the huge body collapsed across Shick's.

  The tavern became chaos and every being in there tried to scramble for the exits, essentially blocking any chance Roak had of escaping quickly.

  "Tavern's clearing out, Hessa," Roak said. "Get me out of here as soon as you can."

  "What's the hurry?" a red-eyed Slinghasp asked. A snake-like race, but bipedal, the Slinghasp flicked its tongue out at Roak. "Going somewhere, my son?"

  "Not your son," Roak said and turned the Slinghasp's head into mist as well.

  Roak knew the Slinghasp had only been hijacked by the being known as Father, and it hadn't done anything to Roak to deserve death, but that was a moral detail he didn't have time to deal with. Not when there were dozens more beings around him that could have their implants hijacked too.

  "Oh, Roak, so much anger," a red-eyed human said from Roak's right. The human was easily as tall and large as Roak, with bright blue skin, and two Blorta 65 laser pistols pointed at Roak. "Perhaps you should consider sitting back down and having a nice, calming drink. We can talk."

  "Nothing to talk about," Roak said.

  Roak ducked and rolled, letting the targeting system in the Flott do the heavy lifting. The human's head became mist cloud number three. Roak kept rolling until he had his back up against the bar then he slowly stood, his Flott waving back and forth, his eyes looking for the next attack.

  "Whiskey, right?" the bartender said.

  Roak spun about, saw the red-eyes, and fired.

  More mist.

  "Stop this!" a voice roared from the middle of the still fleeing crowd.

  A red-eyed Urvein, a bear-like race that was easily eight feet tall and weighed five times more than Roak, stood facing Roak. No weapons were visible, but the being didn't really need them. The six-inch claws at the end of the being's paw-hands were lethal enough.

  Roak took aim then cried out as pain exploded in his right forearm. He dropped his Flott and began trying to shake the source of the pain free.

  A Ferg, a race that looked like a cross between a beaver and a praying mantis, had its massive front incisors buried in Roak's arm, the sharp teeth able to pierce even Roak's light armor.

  Roak lifted his arm high then brought it down hard onto the top of the bar. Parts of the Ferg broke, Roak clearly heard the snapping of bones, but the red-eyed little shit only bit down harder and deeper. Out of the corner of Roak's eye, he could see the Urvein shoving beings out of the way as it waded through the fleeing patrons to get to Roak.

  "Hessa," Roak snarled. "Gonna need some help."

  "I…a…on you… Keep…to scan…"

  "Hessa? Hessa!" Roak shouted.

  "Well, isn't this interesting?" the Urvein said. "W
e have a new guest joining the party."

  Roak slammed the Ferg down once, twice, three more times before finally snapping the thing's neck. The teeth loosened enough for Roak to wriggle his fingers inside the mouth and pull the teeth free from his arm.

  Blood gushed from the wound. Roak ignored the damage to his arm and concentrated on his comm.

  "Hessa? What's going on?" he called.

  No answer.

  "Oh, this new guest must have considerable resources," the Urvein said. "It's able…to…"

  Roak watched the Urvein's eyes flicker back and forth from red to normal and back to red in a chaotic cycle.

  "This…is…problematic," the Urvein said right before roaring at the top of its lungs. It clapped its hands to its head then fell to its knees. "We…will…talk soon…"

  The Urvein's head exploded.

  That did it for any patrons that may have been considering having one more drink for the road. The tavern cleared completely out except for Roak and the corpses.

  And a mangy looking Cervile sitting at the end of the bar.

  The Cervile from the previous tavern.

  The being held up its hand and waved.

  "Roak," the Cervile said. "If you wouldn't mind stepping my way. You have an appointment."

  The Cervile smoothed its fur and stood up. The mange and softness were gone.

  "Nice trick. You're good," Roak said. "I clocked you back at the other tavern, but I thought you were just a tavern rat selling intel. Didn't think you were true Cervile."

  "I wouldn't be much use to my queen if I couldn't do the job properly," the Cervile said. "Come along now. She is waiting."

  "Your queen?" Roak asked, slightly surprised.

  "My queen," the Cervile replied.

  "I've never met the Cervile queen before," Roak said. "Maybe I should clean up first. I can meet you there."

  "No need," the Cervile said. "She's seen you at your worst."

  Roak started to ask a question then closed his mouth. Pieces fell into place.

  "Well…shit," Roak said, grabbing his fallen Flott as he moved closer to the Cervile.

  "Yes. Well, shit," the Cervile said then cocked her head. "Ready for transport."

  In a swirl of molecules, both Roak and the Cervile vanished from the tavern, leaving behind blood and chaos.

  Just another day for Roak.