Jak Phoenix

Chapter Twenty-Four - Ultimatums

  The four friends and the one unwanted colleague made their way down the hall at a frantic pace. Baxter and Dodge had been on the same page as Jak — get to the docking bay. They had already cooked up some kind of a plan, which for now involved Dodge shuffling them away as quickly as possible.

  Murdock hadn’t said a word since he peeled himself off the floor after being unexpectedly hit in the face by Dodge’s brick fist. The thought that it might have been a mistake because of their surprise meeting faded quickly when instead of apologizing, Dodge silently stared Murdock down with an unyielding evil glare. Thankfully, Murdock understood enough to keep quiet.

  Dodge refrained from questioning Jak about why Murdock was with them at all, but Jak knew he wanted to say something. Dodge was in his intense ‘work’ mode, with no time for unnecessary conversation. For whatever reason, Murdock had also now become Dodge’s problem and Dodge had diligently accepted that.

  “I’ve got to know how you found us,” said Jak, as they raced along the corridor. “It’s an awfully big ship.”

  “Your wrist communicator,” answered Baxter, through his panting. “I tracked its embedded key signal. It was weak, but I was able to follow it once we were on board.”

  Jak glanced at his broken communicator and thanked fate for stopping him from tearing the defective equipment from his arm earlier and tossing it aside.

  “How could you possibly have found a way onto this ship?” asked Cyan.

  “That was a bit tricky,” said Dodge. “We had to jump.”

  “What?”

  “Actually, we left my ship in our external suits, and navigated over to the Catalyst with the thruster packs. We were too small to be noticed.”

  “Well, thanks for coming after us,” said Jak. “It’s possible that we might actually have a chance now.”

  “Don’t thank me,” said Dodge firmly. “Thank Baxter. All of this was his idea. I was on my way out here to check in on you two, and I ended up running into Baxter. This guy,” Dodge didn’t often speak affectionately about Baxter, “was able to download a ton of information on the workings of this ship before he got too far away. I never realized how smooth he is with those computers.”

  Jak gave Baxter a sincere look of thanks as he considered that it was his friend — old clumsy and bumbling Baxter — who had risked his life in attempting a death defying rescue mission. It was amazing how a person could shine when they were put in a position allowing them to finally show what they had inside them.

  “Wait a minute.” Murdock had finally chimed in. “If your ships are sitting out there, why haven’t they been attacked yet?”

  Even out of breath, Baxter was eager to continue with the details of his handiwork. “From Dodge’s ship, I was able to tap into the Catalyst and gain access to nearly every system. This panel,” Baxter proudly tapped the handheld computer he was carrying alongside the helmet of one of Cartrite’s soldiers, “is tied into his main computer system.”

  “How did you manage to do that?” said Cyan.

  “Skill. And because the systems around here are surprisingly basic and rather poorly protected. Cartrite’s strength seems to be in militant force, not computers.”

  “That doesn’t explain how you weren’t seen.”

  “Oh, sorry,” said Baxter. His increased adrenaline had made him talkative rather than defensive. “We found that Cartrite uses some kind of holographic projection system to disguise his ship. It basically projects an image of what is behind them to the area in front of them to mask his ship. It isn’t nearly perfect, but it helps hide him. What I did, was hack in and essentially reroute his projection system. They are now seeing a looped version flipped around and mirrored back at them. With his sensors locked into a feedback loop, they’re pretty much doing the same thing. Just showing him the same thing over and over again. Until they reset the defensive systems, they’re essentially blind to everything around them. Their shielding is showing as being at maximum right now too, but we overrode and disabled them before coming aboard. We’ve got their systems so crisscrossed right now; they’ll never be able to figure out what is going on.”

  Jak had no idea what Baxter was talking about, but he hoped it was working.

  Dodge examined his watch. “We’ve got a few tricks planned too, so we’ve got to get a move on folks. So cut the chit chat for now. We need to get back to the ship and put some distance between us and them.”

  “It’s a pity that your ship was so heavily damaged in our encounter.” Jak couldn’t believe Murdock said it.

  “That’s okay,” said Dodge, “I’m taking yours.”

  “I—”

  Dodge stopped dead in his tracks and unholstered his weapon, aiming it at Murdock’s face, which had turned white.

  “You are no longer in a position to have a choice. Do you understand?” Dodge was not kidding.

  “You—”

  “Go ahead,” said Dodge, “I dare you to complain.”

  The uncomfortable tension was broken by the clanging sounds of an approaching force. Dodge snapped out of his anger as quickly as he had become that way and herded them onward. After a few more corners were rounded in silence, they found themselves in front of a tall and wide archway, dull grey like everything else on the ship, and leading into a large room. Fortunately the doors were already open for them. Unfortunately the room was not vacant.

  Jak was forced to throw himself out of the way of the line of fire to avoid a bright blast from an enemy gun. The blast burnt the wall behind him. Surprisingly, it was Murdock who was the quickest on the draw, taking down the assailant and two others in quick succession. Dodge bravely darted into the room and eliminated two more threats. The crewmen in this room were controllers and logistical workers — not soldiers, but still armed. Dodge had led them to the docking bay control room, which put them into a closer position for their escape through the open hangar down below.

  After Dodge physically overtook the last of Cartrite’s crewmen, they all entered the stagnant smoke filled room and observed their surroundings. The big room was filled with rows of computer banks and readout screens for use in the docking and departing of ships and freighters. The front of the room was a series of clear glass panels, six inches thick at minimum, which stretched from the floor to the ceiling in two meter segments divided by thick silver support beams.

  In front of the window, Jak looked upon the massive hangar below and at the open black rectangle of space where their freedom waited. The rows of fighters in which they’d make their escape were still sitting and calmly awaiting their arrival. Cyan followed him and quietly looked upon the scene along with Jak. They were so close, but still so far. For the first time, Jak thought they just might make it, free and clear.

  “How are we for time?” Baxter had synchronized something with Dodge.

  “Not good. It’s gonna be tight.”

  “What do you have planned?” asked Jak. His curiosity had kicked in.

  “Jak, look!” Cyan’s urgent voice snapped Jak’s attention back to the hangar below them.

  He didn’t believe it at first. Such a hurtful twist of fate in what could have been the final moments of a journey they shouldn’t even have been on. The surface of the dock below was quickly filling up with Cartrite’s drone soldiers. They seemed to be coming out of every entrance, flooding across the room, surrounding the fighters and taking defensive positions throughout the open space. Among them, Jak spotted the skeletal face of Professor Voth, the mammoth form of Zelus and Captain Cartrite himself. Hope was lost. Cartrite had obviously known the only way of getting off his ship was through the open hangar and Jak had been stupid in underestimating him.

  The five prisoners stood at the window, observing the scene of defeat below, while Cartrite looked right back at them, eminently proud of his victory.

  Jak’s idea was less of an actual idea and more of a last ditch effort in spite. He walked at a normal pace to the front radio and communicati
ons console. He ran a few fingers across the control panel to help him absorb the workings of it, until he found the control switch he was looking for. As he flipped it, a faint hum and general ambience filled the room, and the rest of the ship.

  “Attention Cornelius Cartrite.” Jak spoke into the microphone pickup and heard his words echo through the Catalyst. He knew he saw the old captain’s look of success turn into a slight look of embarrassment. “While I greatly appreciate the warm send off you’ve put together for us, it is really not necessary. We will be down shortly with your precious Balarian tablets. If anyone approaches us, I will destroy them. When we safely reach the outside of your ship, I may send one of them over for your project — if I feel like it. That is all.” The transmission ended with a loud snap.

  “Wait a second,” said Cyan. “What are you doing? You can’t let him have them.”

  “I really don’t plan to,’ said Jak. “But to be honest with you, we don’t exactly have a lot of options right now. If we can get out of here without giving him anything, then that’s wonderful. But, if losing one of the tablets out of your crate means we can continue to live, I’d say that is a necessary sacrifice.”

  “If he gets one, then it’ll only be a short time before he uses them to cause major trouble. Do you want that on your conscious, Jak?”

  “I’ll have to deal with that when the time comes.”

  The radio in the control room hissed and started with Cartrite’s voice. “Please proceed down the elevator to your left. I will ensure that you remain unscathed.” The radio again popped and the transmission ended.

  “Alright, we’re going.”

  “Wait a second.” Dodge pulled out a hand held communication device, throwing it up to his ear and creating a link with his shipmates. “Garner, we’ve had a change of plans.”

  Dodge went over some details over the radio with Garner, who, presumably, was still back on Dodge’s ship. Jak was happy, since it gave him the reassurance that someone else had an idea of what to do.

  Dodge slipped the radio back into his pocket.

  “Alright,” he said in a lowered tone only Jak could hear, “we’ve got about five minutes until they come stormin’ in here.”

  “How are we getting out?”

  “My ship will be coming in and let’s just say it won’t be going back out. Garner’s locked it on self-destruct mode—“

  “Come on man, you can’t—“

  “It’s garbage now anyway, Jak. Don’t worry. The Tempest’ll be right behind them. We’ll have about one or two minutes to get on board and get the hell out. Make sense?”

  Jak nodded and without saying anything else walked to the open lift, followed by the others.

  Murdock was giving Jak a miserable look as the lift began to lower into the docking bay. “I don’t suggest we play games with Cartrite,” he said. “All of our lives are on the line. Not just your own. I suggest you give him the artifacts so we can get out of here.”

  “I know what you want to do,” said Jak. “No chance. Unless, of course, you want Dodge to call off his men.”

  Murdock strained to avoid Dodge’s glare and dropped the subject.

  As the windowed lift descended with the five worried individuals, the entire scene of the hangar became clear. There were soldiers at every door, around every ship and some random clusters of them thrown in for good measure. They numbered at least a thousand.

  Jak reached into his jacket pockets and verified that he still had his leverage. For the first time, he saw a worried look on Cyan’s strong face. Since he was going to die anyway, he reached over and held on to her hand. She did not resist and instead looked over at him, with her worried look faintly overshadowed by a warm and friendly glance. Her hand was softer than he thought it would be.

  They reached the bottom and started on their final march toward Cartrite’s waiting group on the other side of the bay, passing the groups of soldiers, all so eager to pull on their triggers.

  Jak was impressed that Dodge had decided to sacrifice his ship in a blazing rescue mission of death and destruction. As with any good plan, this could very well kill all of them, but it also had the potential to be the last piece to complete the puzzle of their escape.

  “Stop here,” said Jak. He was not going any further toward Cartrite’s waiting army. They were now very close to the far outside edge of the massive hangar opening, while the majority of Cartrite’s men resided almost directly in front of it. This position also offered the protection of some of the stacks of cargo crates which dotted the floor of the docking bay.

  Captain Cartrite came forward with Zelus close by. Professor Voth slithered through the groups of soldiers relaying information from the captain. Cartrite stopped at a safe distance, several meters from Jak, and spoke first.

  “I am going to be blunt, Mr. Phoenix. This is it. You are surrounded and your only option at this point is to hand me that chest of tablets. I will then consider if I should allow any of you to live.”

  “Not a chance. I already told you my offer.”

  The captain chuckled. “With the number of weapons focused upon you, I could have you incinerated with one command.”

  “You’re not going to do that.”

  “No?”

  “If you wanted to do that we’d be dead already. These stones are so precious to you that you won’t risk them being harmed.”

  “Ah, yes. Thank you for reminding me of something. Zelus, please reset our defence systems. Be sure to include the holographic projection system as well.”

  Jak was panicking.

  They knew.

  The plan was shot.

  “Aye, sir.” Zelus manipulated a few dials and switches on a control panel mounted upon a podium extending upward from the deck.

  “My apologies,” continued Cartrite with a sly and condescending attitude, “but earlier we detected an extremely sloppy attempt at sabotage in our computer banks. We want to make sure that our safety systems are in working order for the sake of all of us, right?”

  Jak didn’t answer. How could Baxter have been so careless? Cartrite wasn’t finished.

  “Oh, look at that,” continued the old captain, now observing the real view outside the ship. With the modifications to Cartrite’s holo-system wiped out, Dodge’s damaged ship was now perfectly visible, creeping its way toward the opening of the hangar. “If that fellow doesn’t stop he’s going to fly right into our shields. I hope he realizes the impact will instantly obliterate his ship.”

  Jak had nothing left but anger toward the evil man. He unzipped the black bag at his side and removed the Balarian chest, harshly placing it on the deck in front of him. He aimed his long rifle, already set to maximum, on the source of all the problems.

  “Sorry captain, the tablets are history.”

  Jak couldn’t help but shiver as he felt the cold steel abruptly pressed into the base of his skull and his hand froze on his trigger. Cyan and Dodge were beside him, so he knew it wasn’t them. Baxter was out of the question.

  Murdock carefully slinked forward while leaving his pistol trained on Jak’s neck. With his foot, he slid the chest further away from Jak. His eyes remained locked onto Jak’s, until the tablets were far enough away that Murdock could bend and pick them up without danger.

  “You’ll thank me for this,” Murdock said quietly as he withdrew his weapon, backed up, and cluelessly began his prance over to Cartrite with the majestic dark red and bronze Balarian chest.

  The captain smiled wildly at the new turn of events and said, “Ah, it seems someone here has some sense.”

  “What is wrong with him?” said Dodge under his breath, but loud enough so Jak could hear.

  “He’s an idiot.”

  Jak watched as Murdock gleefully shook Captain Cartrite’s hand and then put the chest of tablets into his waiting arms. As the old man opened the chest to verify its contents, Jak’s body itched to grab the remote and detonate the explosive filled crate in Cartrite’s fac
e. It still didn’t feel like the right time. Besides, he had decided on making one more foolish attempt at both escape and the tablets, before blowing them into dust.

  After a round of unheard conversation and motioning back toward the group, Murdock had the nerve to turn around and come right back. It was clear from his foolish expression that he was convinced he had done a positive thing.

  “You see, Jak. A simple solution for a simple problem.” Murdock was extremely happy with himself.

  There was a disturbing air of stillness surrounding them before Jak saw Zelus raise his weapon. It was the confirmation — as if Jak hadn’t known it all along — that Captain Cartrite was not going to so easily permit them to stroll off into the sunset.

  Jak could not explain why his reflexes had sprung to life when he was subjected to the immediate situation of the defence of Murdock, the man he loathed. Jak whipped his gun out of the holster and fired a shot, while Zelus took an extra split-second to aim his weapon at his defenceless, but admittedly deserving, target. For Jak, the scene played out in slow motion.

  The blast didn’t hit Zelus, but came close enough to cause him to flinch as he fired. The searing laser from Zelus’ powerful weapon ripped through the back of Murdock’s shoulder. While it didn’t kill him, it caused him enough pain to drain his energy and leave him semiconscious in a pile on the deck.

  The Brigatine continued its slow course toward its demise on the Catalyst’s powerful wall of invisible shielding.

  Captain Cartrite had the tablets.

  Zelus was furious.

  The first and second shots had been fired.

  The third, fourth and fifth came soon after.