Jak Phoenix

Chapter Twenty-Three - Unexpected Meetings

  Jak led Murdock and Cyan on a snake path through the infrastructure of the ship, jumping from one conduit to the next, in the attempt to make it difficult for Cartrite’s forces to find them, if they had decided to follow them down the main power line. He wouldn’t admit it to his companions, but he had long ago lost his way, forgetting what he had seen on the ship’s schematic. He still had an idea of the general direction and was running on instinct.

  He knew he needed to get out of the tunnels at some point and find another computer panel to get some useful directions to help them get back on track. It would also make for a nice change of scenery. Jak could only tolerate crawling around in the dark and filth for so long before it began gnawing unbearably at his nerves.

  When Jak reached the next offshoot, he had the overwhelming urge to end their trip inside the ship and make a run for it on the main decks. His internal compass told him they were nearing the right level. This internal compass had been known to fail from time to time, but it was currently the best thing he had to go on.

  “We’re going back out there,” said Jak. He started toward the secondary maintenance area, closer to the main ship decks.

  “You’re crazy,” said Murdock, as he jumped off the ladder and followed. “You’ll get us captured within seconds.”

  “What do you want to do, move in here? Live inside this ship for the rest of our lives? I know it’s risky, but we’ve gotta make a move at some point, and I don’t think we’re going to find a better time.”

  Jak caught a strange glance from Cyan as he gave Murdock his lesson. He ignored it and didn’t look back, pretending he hadn’t seen it at all. He was pretty sure he knew what the look was. It was affection, if only in a miniscule dose. Any other time or place, Jak would have turned on his charm to see where that new change of attitude would get him, but unfortunately he currently had more important things to focus on at the moment. Jak neglected to consider that maybe finally turning his charm off was the reason for the glance in the first place.

  Jak turned and walked briskly down the narrow access passage, which he found led back to a thick door at the focal point of a vestibule just large enough for the three of them to stand shoulder to shoulder in. They stood there in the tiny room, soaked in a deep red illumination, now apprehensive about doing what they knew they had to do next.

  Cyan inspected the glowing control box and said, “It’s not locked.” Part of her was disappointed that nothing was preventing their re-entry to the deadly hallways of the Catalyst.

  “If we open that door, we are bound to be assaulted by Captain Cartrite’s forces,” pleaded Murdock. He tried to cover his fear with a facade of wisdom. “Don’t be a fool, Jak.”

  Jak wasn’t about to turn around and waste his time backtracking to find a more comfortable entrance. The lack of a window or port on this hatchway made it difficult to see what might be on the other side, but searching for something which potentially suited them better could easily turn into a fruitless hunt, taking them even further away from their destination. This was the door. Further delays would bring bad luck upon them.

  Jak put his ear to the hatch for one last check. He couldn’t hear anything, but then again the door could have been thickened with six inches of solid titanium. The gesture at least made it look like he was using rational judgment, which he did for the sake of his companions.

  Jak pulled his rifle up and checked the settings. It was active and the safeties were off.

  “You guys might want to get your weapons ready,” said Jak. “Put them on the midrange setting so we get the most juice out of them. I really don’t know how long these things are gonna last, so try your best not to waste any shots.”

  Cyan already had her weapon ready. Murdock panicked and rushed to get his rifle ready, just now recognizing that Jak was not going to reconsider.

  “Ready?”

  They were as ready as they could be.

  Jak touched the door control and the door squeaked aside. Even the normally dull lighting of the ship’s corridors nearly blinded them after so long a time in the murky depths of the seldom seen inner mechanics of the spacecraft.

  They were met by silence and stillness. Jak waited until his eyes were fully adjusted before taking a step though the hatchway.

  They had emerged at a bent corner of a hallway which came straight down to meet them and then made a sharp curve off to their right. There was a computer panel only a few meters from their location, and not a soul ahead or to the side waiting to greet them. Luck had prevailed for them at last.

  Jak, Murdock and Cyan hustled over to the computer panel with Cyan covering the hall straight ahead and Murdock nervously covering the corridor branching out beside them. The hatch slid shut and locked behind them. They wouldn’t be going back the way they came without some time consuming efforts in lock picking.

  “We are only four decks above the cargo bay. If we can get down to that level, it won’t be far. There’s a lift just down the hall.”

  “Jak, over here!” Murdock’s urgent voice was accompanied by a sharp blast from his rifle.

  Cyan and Jak spun around to see the squadron of Cartrite’s dark armoured soldiers flowing down the right end of the corridor, filling the hall with their large numbers. Murdock’s shot connected with the face mask of one of the helmeted goons, bringing his march to a quick end and making him an instant nuisance to the steady procession of the militants.

  Before Jak even lifted his weapon, a hot blast shattered the computer console beside his head.

  “Murdock, get the hell out of there.” He was still standing in the center of the hallway firing back as the blasts were increasing around him.

  Jak moved in beside Murdock while Cyan covered herself behind the corner, her laser blasts dropping countless soldiers through the increasing pungent smoke in the hallway.

  Now alongside Murdock, Jak’s rifle eliminated several more of the attackers, quickly adding to the pile that was steadily growing and hampering the squadron’s progress. Agility and thinking were not abilities of these mindless drones. Their only strength was in their expendable numbers. Fortunately for the escapees, the soldiers had bottlenecked themselves into this narrow passageway.

  “Let’s go,” shouted Murdock, eager to get out of the line of fire. He was right. It was a great opportunity to escape and leave the soldiers to trip and stumble through their dead piles of unnamed ranks. The smoke from the burning matter gave Jak, Cyan and Murdock a convenient temporary cover as they rushed off together down toward the other end of the grey corridor.

  At about the same time they spotted the elevator, they spotted something less welcome. Zelus’ massive shape turned a corner at the far end of the long hallway and began a relentless stride toward them.

  Jak saw three options. Certain death at the hands of Zelus; certain death at the hands of the zombie soldiers; or certain death while trapped in an elevator.

  Jak turned and elbowed the button to request the elevator. He fired off a poorly aimed shot toward Zelus which melted a spot in a panel on the wall beside him. To add to Jak’s terror, Zelus sped up to a run and Jak swore he could feel the ship shaking with Zelus’ foot impacts.

  Taking its time, the elevator door finally slid aside. Murdock, Cyan and Jak piled into the lift, temporarily evading enemy laser blasts, but essentially trapping themselves in a corner. Jak pounded on the button in the attempt to get them to the floor they needed to be on, three decks below. In typically slow elevator fashion, the doors began to close. Jak poked his arm out with his hand pistol and incinerated the control button on the wall outside the lift, bringing his arm in at the last second as the doors clamped together. He realized that Cartrite hadn’t bothered to invest in luxuries such as elevator door safeties for his crewmen. If you got caught in these doors, they closed anyway.

  As the metallic doors slid their last inch, Zelus arrived in front of the doors, shut out by mere seconds. He pounded on
the doors in a futile attempt to do something beside raise the heart rates of the three prisoners to excessive levels.

  The ironic silence of the elevator moving to the lower decks was almost amusing, considering where they were and because they were probably going to be greeted by the enemy’s gun barrels when they reached their destination.

  Jak raised his rifle and blew a hole through the control panel, engaging a whining alarm and bringing the lift to a grinding halt.

  Cyan was wide-eyed. “What are you doing?”

  “Good work,” said Murdock, without waiting for Jak’s answer.

  “We have to get out, now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I punched in the floor we wanted when we got in here. There will be an army waiting for us down there. Help me with these doors.”

  Cyan and Murdock helped Jak push aside the bulky doors to the point where Jak could insert his rifle into the seam and pry them open. When they were levered open enough, they put their full weight behind the doors until they had slid them almost full open. While there were no enemies yet visible, there was a problem. It was the blockage in front of them. They were roughly halfway between floors when the elevator stopped, leaving the car unevenly lined up with just a small space to squeeze through before dropping down onto the deck.

  “Quick ... Cyan ... you first.”

  Cyan sat down, slipped her legs through first and cleanly lowered herself out of the elevator car. Murdock gave Jak a nod and followed Cyan. Jak dropped himself down onto the bottom of the car and threw his legs outside the opening, realizing it was not possible for him to get through with all of the gear he had strapped to his body. Hurriedly, he slipped the bag with the tablets off his shoulder and onto the scuffed floor of the elevator.

  The bag was slightly unzipped, exposing the top of the red Balarian chest. Jak noticed for the first time that it really was quite beautifully crafted, with so much care having been put into the details and markings. All of this peril had been over this box of rocks, which were believed by Cartrite to be the ultimate weapon and by Cyan to be a saviour to her people.

  “Come on, Jak. We have to go.”

  They couldn’t see what he was doing, so he took one more second to flip the top of the chest open. In his heart Jak did not believe it was possible to escape the Catalyst with the tablets. It was possible — improbably — that they could get out of all this with their lives. But saving both their lives and this big crate of galactic artifacts that were so important was impossible. Jak would try, but realistically, he understood it wouldn’t happen. The thought that Cartrite could use these tablets if they had to escape without them, was not encouraging. What good was this temporary freedom, while they waited for Cartrite to wage his war of insanity on the inner sectors?

  “What are you doing?”

  Jak took two of the remote explosive charges and buried them underneath the pile of tablets, taking the remote device and stuffing it inside the inner pocket of his jacket. Some insurance, for however things turned out in the end.

  Before he closed the case, his hand brushed on one of the tablets. There was something inside him that couldn’t bear to let that beautiful mean girl down. Maybe there was another insurance policy he should take out.

  After the case was latched shut and the bag zipped up, Jak dropped himself out of the confined opening and reached up to pull the bag down after him. He threw it back over his shoulder and simply said, “Sorry,” as an apology for his delay, before restarting his journey forward.

  They ran together, with Jak leading them closer to their goal while he looked around for a method of getting a couple of decks lower.

  “Isn’t this fun?” asked Jak, merely to break the tension. Also because he thought it would annoy Murdock.

  “It’s not bad,” answered Cyan. It was funny how a life or death situation had finally started to lighten her up. He wondered what she would do and where she would go, if they were able to break free.

  As they rounded a corner in a brisk jog, the two drone soldiers who were separated away from their typical squadron did more to uproot their progress than an entire battalion had.

  The taller helmeted soldier smashed his fist into Murdock’s face almost at the exact instant they came into view. He had no time to block or raise his hand in defence, and spilled crookedly to the deck. A shorter and heftier soldier who had his head down observing some kind of portable computer readout ploughed into Jak before either of them had a chance to raise their weapons. Cyan ploughed into the back of Jak, not expecting the abrupt stop in their pace. Everyone lost their footing and ended up on the floor, except for the taller soldier who hadn’t yet bothered to take his shoulder strapped rifle in hand.

  Jak was determined to turn this disaster into a victory as he pounced back to his feet and targeted his rifle on Cartrite’s soldier.

  “Whoa, hold on.” The enemy lifted his hands into the air. The voice was loud and urgent even under the helmet. Not like a typical drone would sound.

  Cyan made her way to her feet and directed her weapon toward the man.

  The drone soldier ripped off his helmet, exposing not a glassy-eyed and distorted face, but a face that pumped new life back into Jak’s body and soul.

  “Easy!” the man shouted with one hand facing Cyan as if he thought she was the greatest threat.

  It took Jak a few seconds to compute that he was facing his old friend, Dodge Stonewall.

  Beside Jak, the soldier who was still on the floor removed his helmet as well, exposing the mop of brown hair matted down onto the face of Baxter.

  “I don’t believe this,” said Jak.

  “Well you better,” answered Dodge. “We’ve gotta get out of here, fast.”