Razer Edge: A Roak: Galactic Bounty Hunter Novel Page 9

  A door next to the kitchen slid open and Spickle came out, zipping his fly, and smiled at Roak.

  “You live. Good,” Spickle said. “We make new friends.”

  “Great,” Roak replied. “Clothes. Armor. Weapons.”

  “Your clothes were filthy and are being washed,” the woman said. “Your armor is over there and your Flott is useless without a charge.”

  The woman left the kitchen and walked into a different room. Roak watched her with predatory eyes, his body tense and ready to fight. She came out with a large towel and threw it at Roak.

  “As much as I could stand here and admire your physique all day, even with the amount of scars you have, I believe we should talk business, not pleasure,” the woman said. “My name is Hail. Like the weather.”

  Roak caught the towel, sniffed it, then wrapped it around his waist. One of the women on a couch made a disappointed sound. The men laughed, but the laughter died away as soon as Roak glanced in their direction.

  “I still want my Flott,” Roak said. “I’ll charge it then it’ll be—”

  “That won’t happen,” Pol said, taking a bite of some wrap that had many shades of yellow-grey foodstuffs jammed into it. “Chargers are all offline. The plasma and laser conduits no longer flow on Razer Station.”

  “Then I find new magazines for it,” Roak said.

  “Out there? Yes, good luck with that, Mr. Roak,” Hail said.

  “Roak,” Roak snapped. “No mister. Roak.”

  “He’s rather insistent on that,” Pol said.

  “Very,” Spickle said as he clambered up onto the kitchen counter and sat cross-legged. Hail handed him a plate with a wrap as well. “Thank you.”

  “Mmm, hungry,” Sath said and joined Spickle on the counter.

  “You must be starving,” Hail said to Roak. “I’m afraid I have limited options, but I will gladly fix you something.”

  “This wrap is quite good, Roak,” Pol said around a mouthful of food. “I recommend you have one.”

  Roak turned and studied the five Lipians seated in the living room. Not one of them gave off any hint of violence, even the two women that had pulled pistols on him earlier. Except… The third young woman. Roak’s gut tightened when he studied her face. There was something there…

  Roak shook his head and returned to glaring at the kitchen ensemble then shrugged.

  “You healed me enough that I can kill all of you before you twitch a tit,” Roak said as he walked to the counter and pulled up a stray stool. “Thanks for that.”

  “Interesting way to express your gratitude,” Hail said and laughed. “But I understand. You are welcome. Wrap?”

  “I doubt you’ll poison me after healing me, so yeah, a wrap works nice,” Roak said and nodded his chin at the glass of pink Pol was drinking. “What’s that?”

  “You ever been to the Vsterngut System?” Hail asked.

  “Yeah. A few times. I’ll pass on the drink,” Roak replied. “Water if you have it.”

  Pol stopped in mid-sip and set his glass down. “Why are you passing on the drink?”

  “I’ve been to the Vsterngut System and know where that comes from,” Roak said.

  “Fausxian excrement,” Spickle said. “Very good for you.”

  Pol swallowed and gently pushed the glass away. Sath snatched it up, downed what was left, and licked his lips.

  “Very good for you,” Sath echoed.

  Hail handed Roak a glass of water then leaned across the counter so her face was only centimeters from Roak’s.

  “Have a sip and we’ll talk business while I make your wrap,” she said.

  Roak sipped then leaned back as far as the stool would allow.

  “Talk,” he said.

  Hail nodded and began to assemble the wrap, her hands moving with incredible dexterity and speed. Roak tried not to let her movements distract him, but he was impressed by her physical ability. As well as her physical appearance.

  She wore a simple shift tied around her waist with a plain belt of some type of leather, and leggings on underneath. The shift moved in a way that told Roak he wasn’t the only one in the room without undergarments. Hail’s eyes were cast down to the counter, but a sly smile crept across her face as Roak studied her.

  “You had to have made a good living here,” Roak said.

  “If I was allowed to keep that living,” Hail said. “If any of us were.”

  “That so?”

  “That is so, Roak.”

  She finished with his food and handed him the plate. Roak grabbed up the wrap and took two large bites as he waited. Hail’s sly grin focused on Roak and she nodded.

  “Indentured. That would be the technical term, but slaves would be more accurate.”

  “You got jacked and taken here when you thought you were going somewhere much nicer. That it?”

  “That is it,” Hail replied, nodding in agreement with Roak’s assessment. “There were ten more of us a year ago.”

  “You’ve only been here a year?” Roak asked. “And you lost ten of your group?”

  “Our, um, employer, insisted we work off our debt as fast as possible,” Hail explained. “Despite our genetic ability to pleasure all beings, there are races that can be…cruel when it comes to their sexual tastes.”

  “You can say that about all races,” Roak said after a couple more bites. “It’s the individuals that are the problem, not the race.”

  “Yes, well, a Gwreq with cruel tastes is a little more dangerous than a human with cruel tastes, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Depends on the human.” Roak studied Hail some more and nodded. “But, yeah, I agree.”

  Lipians could easily pass for human. The differences were more systemic and internal. Genitalia that could shift and adapt to any other race was the main external difference. Roak had been with his share of Lipians and witnessed their ability first hand. He’d always thought that if their crotches could be adapted to combat, they’d be deadly as all the Hells.

  But the sex trade was what they were designed for, so most of the race kept to what they were best at.

  “How much longer you got?” Roak asked. “On your term.”

  “Our terms are done,” Hail stated and waited for Roak to finish his last bites before she took the plate back. “If you help us.”

  Roak chewed, swallowed, and laughed.

  “I’m on a job,” Roak said as Hail waited patiently for him to finish laughing. “I have to deliver this old guy to wherever. That’s my job. I’m not looking to add to it.”

  “You help us,” Spickle said.

  “Can’t get rid of you,” Roak replied.

  “We kill Kweets,” Sath insisted.

  “That you did. I’ll get you some chits for your trouble,” Roak said and stood up. “But I think it’s about time I got dressed and left with Pol. Alone. I need to make up the time I spent in the med pod and get to my ship ASAP.”

  Roak paused then narrowed his eyes.

  “Hessa?”

  There was no response.

  “Hessa? You there?”

  Hail’s sly grin returned and doubled in slyness.

  “You were in the med pod for six hours, Roak,” Hail said. “That leg was close to jelly. Not to mention the ribs. Don’t get me started on the state your kidneys were in. You’ll still be peeing blood for a couple of days, I would guess.”

  “Doesn’t explain why I can’t reach my ship,” Roak said.

  “It does because in those six hours, the Edgers have taken complete control of the station and jammed all transmissions onboard and off.”

  Roak looked to Pol.

  “She is correct,” Pol responded without the question even being asked. “And I cannot get around the jamming. The tech they are using is not only high quality, but they have redundancies upon redundancies. I tried to find a crack. I did. There are no cracks. This station is silent.”

  “They have to be talking to each other somehow,” Roak said. “Find those ch
annels.”

  “They aren’t,” Pol said. “There are no comm channels being used anywhere on this station. No signals going out, no signals coming in. When I say the station is silent, I mean that the station is silent. I am quite impressed.”

  Roak rubbed the stubble on his chin then nodded.

  “Okay. It must be as good as you say for Hessa not to get through,” Roak said. “I have yet to meet jamming tech she can’t crack. She’ll be in contact as soon as she can.”

  “That is good to hear,” Pol said.

  “It doesn’t change your situation, Roak,” Hail said.

  “No, it doesn’t,” Roak said. “I’m still taking Pol out of here by myself.”

  One of the men giggled then withered as Roak spun about and glared at the Lipian.

  “Please stop intimidating my friends,” Hail said. “Can you do that for me? We saved your life, the least you can do is cut the hostility shit right now.”

  There was steel in Hail’s voice and Roak nodded without looking at her.

  “Yeah. I can do that,” he replied. “But my plan is the same. Put some clothes on, put my armor on, take my Flott regardless of its charge, and get Pol from here to my ship.”

  “And where is here?” Hail asked. Roak did not answer. “Exactly. And where is your ship?”

  “I’ll find it,” Roak said.

  “Alive? No, you won’t,” Hail replied with a steady, confident voice.

  Roak thought about arguing. He even opened his mouth to reply, but reality of how much time had elapsed hit him finally.

  “They docked,” Roak said. “How many? Eight hundred more Edgers?”

  “Two thousand,” Hail answered.

  “Two thousand. Shit.”

  “Care to talk a little more about what I can offer you, Roak? Or would you rather get dressed and leave like you keep insisting you are capable of doing?”

  “I would like you to listen to her, Roak,” Pol said. “As the man paying your bounty, and someone very interested in staying alive, just listen.”

  Roak sighed and nodded. “I’m listening.”

  16.

  “Our employer has access to every square centimeter of this station,” Hail said. “That means, over this last year, we have had access to every square centimeter of this station. We know the nooks, the crannies, the secret passageways, the decks that aren’t listed on maps, the ways over and across to the separate sectors, and all the codes and security protocols between.”

  “How?” Roak asked.

  “No matter the race, they all have one thing in common after an hour, if they’re lucky, with a Lipian,” Hail said. “Friends?”

  “Sleep!” the group in the living room called out in unison.

  “Like the dead,” Hail said. “Milk a man dry, push a woman until she’s spent, and you can study all kinds of information unmolested, in more ways than one, while they simply snooze the night away.”

  Pol cleared his throat. “Hail was a favorite of her employer.”

  “You were the boss’s piece,” Roak said. “That has advantages.”

  “I hear doubt,” Hail replied.

  “Always doubt,” Spickle said.

  “Shut up,” Roak snapped. “Yeah, you hear doubt. Because I don’t know who your employer is.”

  “Binter,” Hail stated.

  That got Roak’s full attention.

  “Continue,” Roak said.

  Hail nodded and did. “You ever had sex with a Ferg, Roak?”

  “Never had the displeasure,” Roak replied.

  “Good for you,” Hail said. “Once engaged in intercourse, and I will spare you the anatomical details of that act, they emit a pheromone that is supposed to help boost their partner’s stamina. Fergs can go on rutting for days, if they are in the mood, due to the effect the pheromone has on their endocrine system.”

  “Rather not have that image in my head,” Roak said.

  “Try having the actual act performed on your body,” Hail said and shivered. “But, and here is the thing, Lipians can reproduce that pheromone in order to give the Ferg in question the stamina boost they need to keep going.”

  Hail smirked.

  “Or we can turn that aspect of our ability off and wait until the little beings literally exhaust themselves from their coital exertions, leaving us with hours upon hours of private time to go through their belongings and cabins.”

  “You sex them into a coma then go snooping,” Roak said. “There are less enjoyable ways to get intel.”

  “You say that only because you haven’t been with a Ferg,” Hail said. “Their musk is overwhelming, even to Lipians, and we have the ability to block most olfactory offenses known to the galaxy.”

  “My condolences.”

  “Cute.”

  Roak shrugged. “Alright, so you snooped while Binter was passed out. Good for you. Only one problem I have with your story.”

  “Please. What problem is that?” Hail asked.

  “I have a hard time believing, and no offense since you seem like a smart and capable woman, but I have a hard time believing you were able to find all the info you have now by yourself. Binter’s job is security. I’ve met the Ferg. He’s sharp. He seemed very on top of things here on Razer Station. He was just the right amount of corrupt to make sure he had a finger on the complete pulse. Sex coma or not, there’s no way you could crack his security on your own.”

  “That is very true,” Hail said. “I can see why you are good at your job.”

  “Don’t flatter me with terpigshit,” Roak said. “That wasn’t a hard deduction to make. Who’s your tech? You had to have a tech helping you out or you wouldn’t have gotten more than Binter’s porn collection off any tablet or system he had in his cabin. All the Hells, I doubt you’d even get the porn.”

  Roak held up a finger before Hail could respond.

  “Unless Binter wanted you to get information. In that case, what you know is compromised and worth jack shit. Which means your offer is worth jack shit and we are now back to me taking my target out of this cabin and finding my own way to my ship.”

  “No, I had a tech,” Hail said. “The info is real and it is solid. I guarantee the authenticity with my life.”

  “The tech would have to be pretty good for a guarantee like that. Very good. You might find maybe half a dozen on this station that fit that kind of ability. But to find one that Binter didn’t already have paid off? I doubt it.”

  The room was silent. Even the Maglors were quiet as every eye focused on Roak. Every eye except for Pol.

  Roak laughed. He turned and looked at the Lipians he’d met earlier.

  “Not a coincidence you two are here, huh?” Roak asked. “It wasn’t random that you had a cabin across from Pol’s. You been working him all year or was this an honest exchange?”

  “I helped them because it was the right thing to do,” Pol replied.

  “That so?” Roak asked Pol. “No tit for tat? Or simply tit for tit? How many times were you with them, and I assume it was a them situation, before they proposed the offer to help break Binter’s security?”

  “No times,” Pol said. “They were my neighbors. I took an interest in their well-being. We ate together, drank together, shared stories. I could see the pain they were in. I asked them how I could help.”

  “I’ll bet you did,” Roak said and gave a slow clap until Hail reached across the counter and grabbed his hands. “You’ll want to let go.”

  Hail did.

  “They played you and you didn’t even get your rocks off, old man,” Roak said. “They win in this scenario. Big time.”

  “Despite it being an insult on your part, Roak, yes, I am an old man,” Pol replied. “Old enough that sometimes pleasant company over drinks and snacks can be preferable to sexual favors. You and I run on the fringes of galactic society, Roak. You of all people should know how lonely that can be.”

  “We didn’t play Pol,” Hail said. “Not once. None of us had a clue who or wh
at he was until he revealed himself to us. At great risk. Do you think a man of Pol’s intelligence could be swayed by boobs bouncing or an ass swaying? I know marks, Roak. Pol is not a mark. He’d have been captured or killed decades ago if he was. This is genuine. A person helping others.”

  Roak blinked. Hail laughed bitterly.

  “Eight Million Gods, is that so hard to understand?”

  Roak shook his head. “No. I get it.” His thoughts went to Ally. “I get it. Sometimes we do stupid things because it feels…right.”

  “Right is never stupid,” Pol said.

  “We all know that’s not true,” Roak countered and no one argued.

  He rubbed at his temples for a moment then looked at Pol.

  “What was going to happen if I hadn’t gotten injured?” Roak asked. “Lucky as shit that they have a med pod, but what if I hadn’t needed it? Were we somehow going to end up here anyway?”

  “There was a plan in place,” Pol said. “A meeting spot closer to where your ship is docked.”

  “So what? If I’d been that close, then I wouldn’t have stopped,” Roak said. “I probably would have shot all of these nice Lipians in order to get you on my ship and get this job done.”

  “We had contingencies in place in case that was your attitude,” Hail said.

  “Contingencies? If you have done any research on me, then you know that contingencies against me tend to go poorly for those crafting said contingencies.” Roak scoffed. “It would take some serious manipulation, manipulation that I couldn’t sniff out from the start, to keep me from blasting your pretty faces off those skulls of yours.”

  “You no sniff us,” Spickle said.

  “You think we dumb,” Sath added.

  “You one dumb,” Spickle said.

  “Dumb Roak.”

  “Dumb Roak.”

  Roak stared at the Maglors then began laughing. He clutched at his belly as he doubled over and nearly smacked his forehead against the counter. Roak laughed for a good two minutes straight. The looks from the others grew concerned after the first minute, but no one made a move to intervene with Roak’s maniacal mirth.

  Then he slowly calmed down and wiped at his tearing eyes. He pointed a wet finger at Pol.