Chapter Twenty - The Captain’s Aggrandization
“Wow,” said Jak. “That’s really quite an offer. But, I’m a little unsure on the whole ‘our way of life will be extinct’ thing though. Maybe you could explain.” Jak could see that for as calm as Cartrite seemed, there was a limit to his patience. Jak was already getting tired of sitting around playing games with these people. He was going to escalate the situation, and find the end of the captain’s line of patience.
“Soon, many things will be changing. I have spent a lifetime building a civilization out here while the rest of the inhabitants of the galaxy have been too afraid to even make an attempt at intrusion into our processes. When our plans are complete, major reorganizations will begin to take place throughout the rest of Azore’s Crown and those who refuse to evolve with us will be eliminated. It is as simple as that.”
Jak looked to Cyan. “Weird how quickly someone can go from being a pirate to a full fledged conqueror these days.”
“Hey, you’re almost there, Jak. Looks like all you would need is a bigger ship,” Cyan replied to Jak, while the sentence was truly directed at Cartrite.
Jak saw Cartrite close his eyes for a couple of seconds and reopen them. He was trying to keep his composure.
“While my reputation is that of a mere fearsome space pirate, I assure you it is nothing more than an empty label. It has been years since I have wasted time skulking around gathering trinkets. I started on that path a long time ago, but when I reached the pinnacle of that lifestyle, I found I needed more.”
“Weren’t rich enough?” asked Jak.
“Hardly,” snapped Cartrite. “When I was a young boy, I was absolutely impoverished and alone. I only survived by scrounging for scraps in our colony, out here in the lowly Nhykton Sector of our wonderful galaxy. Without being overly detailed, there was a day when I happened upon a small canvas bag of coins and jewellery. They weren’t extremely valuable, but to a penniless transient like myself, it was a treasure beyond belief. That feeling — the exhilaration of improving your character, and in my case at the time, knowing that you will be able to eat well in the near future — is a feeling I would chase for the rest of my life. I expected the next valuable object I obtained — which was even more exquisite than the first — would bring me exponentially more satisfaction. I quickly found that while it was rewarding, it would never replicate that feeling from before. As I grew, I made a career doing what you do. With my experience, I did exceptionally well. One might even say that I, along with my early associates, became too rich. We were wealthy to the point where money no longer had any meaning. Over time, the thrill of adding piles of treasure to billions of riches quickly lost its lustre. I’m sure you as well have experienced this phenomenon, on a smaller scale of course. Once you have more wealth than anyone could ever dream of what to you seek?”
“A bank?”
“Power, Jak. You will find it is something far more rewarding than large quantities of money. We started by taking over small colonies. That grew into conquering small planets and moons. My dominion has been steadily growing for years.”
“Well, he’s definitely not modest, that’s for sure,” said Jak to Cyan, trying to interfere with Cartrite’s speech.
“I understand that it is easy to belittle and mock things you do not understand. Have you ever been in command of an entire world, Jak?”
“Can’t say I have.”
“Then you cannot even begin to judge me. In such a short time, we already hold a dozen planets in this outer sector. Worlds that have been all but forgotten and left to starve and suffer, by the ‘civilized’ portion of this ridiculously disorganized galaxy.”
“How did all of the people on these worlds feel about this? I’d imagine they enjoyed being shot at and attacked into submission.”
“Again, Jak, you talk as if you have a clue about what you are speaking of. Many of these worlds were taken without a shot fired. We are not animals. You seem to think we are still petty pirates like yourself, but we are on a constant quest to build. I have developed methods and set plans in motion which have enabled us to move from planet to planet without wars or battles. You and the archaic thinking of your colleagues like to think of us as the ‘enemy,’ when in fact, we have brought peace and prosperity to this area. People in the Nhykton Sector are hungry, lonely and have been all but forgotten by the citizens and authorities of the more populous areas. When I arrive and bring an end to this, providing stability, food, water and shelter to these people, they embrace us, with open arms.”
“So you’re doing this for charity?” asked Jak. He was determined to get under the Captain’s skin.
“In a way, yes. It is a reciprocal situation, Jak. Quite soon I will own the sector so callously referred to as the ‘Squalid Sector,’ where it will thrive and its people will be happy, as long as they continue to live in order and contribute to my society.”
“So where do you get all this food, water and shelter?” asked Jak.
“You are a quick minded individual, if judgmental. This is, however, the complicated part. There are sacrifices that must be made in order to bring about a greater good.”
“You ransack the planets that don’t join you and give the wealth and resources to the ones that do,” said Cyan.
“While I guarantee you that it is not as simple as that, you have the gist of it correct.”
“Where do you get those zombie soldiers who brought us here?”
“They are not ‘zombies,’ but a genetically enhanced life form. And, they are enrolled in a similar manner, as you have already guessed. Soldiers are required for the defence of my people and can be conscripted in any number of ways. If volunteers run thin, the necessary drafting must be done. If you choose to become our enemy, you choose to become drafted into my forces.”
As Jak analyzed the old man’s withered face and dead white hair, he had a hard time seeing how insane Cartrite really was from his simple exterior. What was going on inside his mind? Jak wondered if his internal monologue really sounded as pretentious as he spoke in real life.
“So you’re planning on making a run at the inner sectors?”
“Absolutely.”
“I think you might be biting off a little more than you can chew, Cornelius. As disorganized as the inner worlds are, they do have many people, like myself, who won’t sit by and let some dictator take over.”
“I do agree that there are many ‘outsiders’ running around untamed and unchecked. I was once a part of that, but the bottom line is that the galaxy is crumbling because of it. There will be no room for those who refuse to accept a new order in Azore’s Crown.”
“Just because you got a few dirt bag planets together out here, it doesn’t mean you’ll be able to walk in out of the blue and take control. There are forces in place—”
“You mean the Galactic Guard?” Cartrite was laughing.
“That’s one.” Jak couldn’t think of any other organized force, and it pained him to acknowledge the Galactic Guard, which he despised so much, as a potential threat.
“A creation of my own,” boasted Cartrite. “Genius, really. An entire force of fools, whose goal is to disrupt the operation of men like you and I. The only problem is that it would never be possible for these hooligans to work together and make a difference. They only serve to provide disappointment, unmanaged regulation and to waste money and time at every turn. These governments have given over their futures to this broken mechanism, wishing for change and organization while actually causing the problem to grow. These core worlds cannot manage their own homeland affairs, let alone the problems of other systems. Their futile attempt at following and attempting to eliminate the so called villains has stretched their own resources too thin, and caused their own planetary social issues to compound. This is the time to strike, and we both know it all too well.”
“Let’s cut the crap here, Cartrite,” Jak was tired of sitting back and being lectured by the captain. “What do you want with
us?”
“Actually, my intent is different for each of you. Jak, I simply wanted to have you as a figurehead for our plans, showing other less successful pirates that you have seen the merits of working with me. I recognize that I may need someone to help me penetrate the independent mercenary societies and gather the many drifters and rebellious folk, like yourself. There will be no room for those who choose to cause havoc. The only exception shall be you. When not working, you will live in the utmost luxury. The Balarian, whose name I am not familiar with,” he made no attempt to find out her name, “is needed for assistance in our most immediate plan, which obviously involves the tablets you came looking for.”
“What do you need me for?” asked Cyan. She declined to offer her name.
“You are required to simply act as a consultant, assisting us in our studies of the Balarian tablets. You will be well paid for your troubles.”
“Would you mind telling us what you want to do with these tablets?” asked Jak.
“While there are many facets to the plan, due to the multitude of capabilities present in the ancient devices, the most important breakthrough will come in the form of their powers of genetic enhancement. You’ve witnessed, first hand, the capabilities of their unrestrained power. The Scoparian Dragon, as they call it, is the perfect example of the influence the tablets can have. Tell me, how large was the great beast?”
“I didn’t exactly have time to measure it.”
“Indeed,” reflected Cartrite. “That is the trouble with the tablets at this point. Their power is immense, but not easily controlled and focused. The beast created from a simple native lizard of that desert is but a rough example of what we could do with the energy if correctly harnessed. The possibilities are endless if we can control them. Disease can be cured, strength can be given to those who are weak and life can be genuinely improved for everyone.”
“Or you can fix up your clumsy army and turn them into super-soldiers.”
“The thought had crossed my mind.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, captain,” said Cyan, “I’m no scientist.”
“That’s quite alright. I already have a scientist.” Cartrite motioned toward the door, where the shaded form of Professor Voth now stood.
Jak did a double take when he saw the red mechanical eye on the man who had just silently snaked his way into the room without either of them noticing.
“Well either way, you’re looking in the wrong place,” said Cyan. “I don’t know anything about these tablets and I’m certainly not going to help you with your crazy plans.”
“Hmm.” Cartrite displayed a mock-concerned face. “Please don’t tell me that, my dear, because if it were true, I’d have no use for you.”
Cyan and Jak could feel the threat growing. Even though the hope of getting off the Catalyst seemed thin, sitting in one spot being belittled by this old man was getting old.
“Has she told you her age?” continued Cartrite.
“It’s never really come up.”
“Tell him,” said Cartrite, in a kind tone toward Cyan for the first time.
Cyan paused for a moment. “One hundred sixty two,” she answered. Her look said ‘What’s it to ya,’ to Jak.
Jak looked at her stunning body and face and could not comprehend how she could possibly be this old.
“You still look pretty good,” he said, to try to take some of the focus off of her. She flashed a miniscule, yet warm, smile at him.
“My people have developed an extremely long lifespan over time. My guess is that the captain here thinks that’s from the tablets. I think he’s mistaken, because I grew up without ever even seeing one of them.”
“Our information tells us that this is a genetic advancement that grew and became permanent over generations of your people’s interaction with the tablets. So it is quite irrelevant that you personally have had no exposure. It has been ingrained in you since birth, passed down from your parent’s parents. All people should have access to the power your people hoarded for so long.”
“You can threaten me all you want,” said Cyan, “but I’m not going to help you go out, conquer the galaxy and make mutants out of all your enemies.”
“Don’t act so high and mighty, my dear. The Balarians had no trouble conquering worlds while they had the benefit of the tablets on their side.”
“Speak for yourself. My people are not conquerors. They only ever settled on barren worlds. We never took other people’s homes.”
“Either you are a liar or just stupid. I cannot be sure at the moment. Certainly you are aware of the attack staged by the Velsar on the Balarian culture.”
“Yes,” said Cyan, “they devastated our worlds and stole the tablets from us.”
“Do you think they just arrived one day by accident and decided to take away your little stones?” asked Cartrite in a patronizing tone. He didn’t wait for a response. “Even if you do not wish to accept it, your people were mortal enemies of the Velsar. They brought their armies to steal back what was originally theirs.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Cartrite pierced her with his eyes. “That is your prerogative.” Cyan began to speak, only to be cut off by the captain. “I have to apologize, as I must end our conversation. I must review some important details with the professor here. So this is your last opportunity to give me an answer. Will you assist me?”
Jak looked around the room, at the dark shape of the staring professor and then back to Cartrite. There was no way out of the room and the captain was dead serious. Jak wondered how far he could get if he said that he accepted Cartrite’s proposal. Maybe it would buy them enough time to find a hole in their net that they could escape through. Jak was sickened just by being in the presence of these people. Could he even force his body and mind to pretend to join them?
Would they be killed right there on the spot if they refused? Likely not, as the captain wouldn’t appreciate that kind of dirty work being carried out so close to him. Aside from that, it was clear that they needed Cyan. They weren’t exactly sure about the full details of these tablets and were convinced that Cyan had answers. Whether or not she did, and was giving less information than she really had, was anyone’s guess.
Cyan solidified their choice as she spat the words, “Go to hell,” at the old captain.
Cartrite, accepting her choice with no rebuttal, simply turned to Jak and awaited his response.
“Sorry,” said Jak, “I’m with her.”
The captain’s finger went to a button on his desk before he continued to speak. Jak hoped there wasn’t a trap door under their chairs.
“Jak, I must say that you are quite a disappointment.”
“Story of my life.”
“It seems your reputation has in fact been embellished over time, much like my own. I now understand you may not truly be the fearless space pirate I had heard of. Any intelligent person would have accepted my offer.”
“No, you mean any weak person would have given in to your demands.”
“Call it what you will. Our dealings are complete.”
Jak turned to the door as he heard it slide aside, the beastly shape of Zelus barging through.
Jak stood up swiftly, while remaining outwardly calm, in the effort to have some leverage when Zelus approached. Jak had expected to be grabbed and dragged out of the room, and in preparation, lifted his arms in yielding to the enormous man as he steamed toward Jak. Zelus didn’t stop walking until his gargantuan fist ploughed into Jak’s face.
Jak spun and fell onto Cartrite’s desk, supporting himself at the last second with his forearms. The commotion overturned the tin of desk instruments, spilling the contents onto the surface of the desk. If he hadn’t felt like someone had just smashed a bag of bricks into his face, he would have been in the perfect position to hit or maybe even strangle Cartrite. As it was, he needed to focus all his effort on trying to keep from blacking out. Jak considered for a moment that he may have made the
wrong choice.
“Please, Zelus, not in here. Secure Mr. Phoenix and the Balarian and take them down.”
Zelus peeled Jak off the desk and clamped a cold set of cuffs onto his wrists. Jak was pushed to the door, beaten but happy to be leaving the dank and macabre office of the demented captain and his cast of characters.
Jak had to admit that these men were ruthless, dangerous and very smart. Not smart enough, however, to notice the single metal writing utensil missing from the spilled objects littered across Captain Cartrite’s desk.