Page 6 of Jak Phoenix

Chapter Five - Risen and Shining

  When Jak woke up he felt great. That is, until the act of standing up from his bed triggered an overwhelming feeling of nausea. When he took one step toward the bathroom, an eye watering headache kicked in. He entered the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror above the sink. Jak was embarrassed at his condition. He looked and felt like he had been trampled by hobos. His mouth was dry and it tasted like he had been eating poison. He turned on the faucet and splashed the cloudy water in his face a few times.

  With a dripping face and out of control hair, he shuffled himself back into the main room to get a bearing on his situation. The lights, which had automatically brightened in the room, told him it was the morning. Looking out the window showcased only the blackness of space. The lack of day or night when you were off-planet was disorienting for some people. Jak lived aboard a ship, where they kept the illusion of day and night regulated for the benefit of their sleep and sanity. The room had been set to Jak’s perception of a day, which probably helped prevent him from being sick on the floor.

  Jak took a quick look around the room that he did not remember entering. He also didn’t seem to remember lying down in a bed last night, although it had been quite comfortable. The room was of a higher calibre than Jak had seen during past visits to Rusty’s. Clean walls and nothing broken.

  It couldn’t have worked out better. Things had gone utterly wrong yesterday and appeared to be going uncharacteristically well since they had reached the station.

  Jak realized he was only wearing his filthy undershirt and shorts. His torn and dirty clothes were folded in a pile on a small couch in the room. They were indistinguishable from garbage. Beside them was a folded fresh set of clothes as if to offer him the choice between them or his rags. Rusty had gone way beyond the call of duty this time.

  Jak headed back into the bathroom and stepped into the shower stall without bothering to take off his remaining clothes. He flipped on the hot water and let it soak him. The sensation of the wonderful heated water cleaning off the days of grime would have been the best moment of his life had his head not been spinning so terribly.

  When Jak stepped out of the shower he felt like a new man. He briefly considered putting on the old clothes, before coming to his senses and suiting up in the fresh dark brown and black set of clothes. As he was about to sit down again the doorbell sounded, so Jak walked over to the door and pressed the button to slide the door aside with a squeak.

  “Good morning, sir,” said the young uniformed man. Jak figured he was a station aide of some kind. “Rusty wanted me to let you know he’s down in the restaurant having breakfast right now.”

  Jak nearly gagged at the thought of food, even though he had not eaten in what seemed like days.

  Jak tried to steady his dizzy head and retain focus. He put one hand on the steel door frame to stabilize himself while his other hand made its way up to his face to cover his eyes in an attempt to slow the rotation of the room. “Yeah, okay.”

  “I think he meant he wanted you to join him.”

  “Of course,” said Jak from behind his hand. “Be more specific next time.”

  Jak let the door close and stepped back into the center of the room. He really had nothing to do and could have very well walked down to the dining area with the aide, but he didn’t feel like experiencing the awkwardness of that journey, after he had just made enemies with the young man due to the high frustration levels created when trying to carry on a conversation about food while trying to avoid being painfully ill.

  He waited a few minutes then headed out of his room and into the hallway, toward the elevator. He pressed the down button and entered, as the doors came open. Jak hit the button to take him to the main level and the doors slid closed.

  Just as they were about to seal together, a hand slipped through the steel doors, preventing their closure and causing them to reopen. As luck would have it, the same aide entered the elevator and made eye contact with Jak. Jak gave him a sheepish nod as he stood beside him. The disorientation from the decline of the elevator was nearly enough to drop Jak to his knees. He held on to the walls of the elevator in an artificially nonchalant way. This was going to be a great day.

  When they reached the end of the seemingly never-ending elevator journey, both men emerged into the traffic of the already busy atmosphere of the station. Jak walked toward the restaurant, glad to get away from the uncomfortable situation at last.

  He entered the restaurant and saw Rusty at a table with a big plate full of food. Beside him sat Baxter, who was already filling his face with the various breakfast foods.

  “Good morning, Jak,” shouted Rusty, in an unnecessarily loud voice.

  The last thing Jak wanted to do was sit down with people at a table of food. “Hey, guys.”

  Jak pulled out a chair and joined the table. Just as soon as he’d sat down, a plate of meat and eggs was thrust under his face. He quickly pushed it into the middle of the table as if it were an explosive. A waitress took the hint and came by to pick up the plate.

  “What’s the matter lad?” asked Rusty. “Not hungry this morning?” Jak didn’t miss the mile-wide smile on Rusty’s face.

  “No, I just don’t eat breakfast.”

  Jak looked over at Baxter. The man's eating habits were bringing Jak to the verge of sickness.

  Jak held the side of his head in an attempt to disperse the pressure. “Maybe I could get a coffee.”

  Rusty signalled for one of the waitresses, who brought over a tray of coffee and tea with a couple types of milk, sugar and creams. Jak grabbed a mug that was already filled with coffee.

  “Now this better be standard coffee,” said Jak to no one in particular. “Nothing exotic.”

  Jak mixed himself a coffee with a high sugar concentration and took a sip. Not bad, he thought, as the warm drink brought life back into his body.

  “Thanks for all this,” said Jak.

  “It’s nothing, my boy. And your ship is coming along nicely as well. Cyan and Kent tell me they’re almost ready to throw the main power back on.”

  “Great ...” said Jak as he finished a sip of coffee and returned the cup to the table, “... but what’s going on?”

  Jak knew Rusty was generous, but he was beginning to sense that there was something afoot. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate all of it. Part of Jak just wanted to coast along with everything and avoid any serious discussions while they repaired themselves and their ship, but the practical side of Jak came forth and figured it would be better to find out the actual status of the situation, before getting in any deeper.

  Rusty poorly acted out an air of bewilderment. “What do you mean?”

  “Hey, I can’t thank you enough, but I’m not stupid Rusty. You’re running a business here and you’ve set us up here like kings with no—”

  “Murdock’s been nosing around,” said Baxter in between fork loads of Stelanian sausage.

  “What?” asked Jak, turning to Rusty. “When?”

  Despite Rusty’s hardened exterior, Jak could sense he was more than a little embarrassed to be discussing the topic. Jak also knew that Rusty would have flattened a scrawny nuisance like Murdock in a heartbeat, back in his younger days. Rusty was looking at his plate, his loud and proud demeanour gone.

  “He came around a couple of weeks ago,” said Rusty. “After what he did to you a few years ago on Perdidos, I threw him out on his ass.”

  “That’s nothing,” interrupted Jak. “Did you hear about the dragon?”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard. Baxter filled me in this morning.” Rusty took a small bite of food and continued. “Well, a few weeks ago he dropped by and started threatening me.”

  “With what?” asked Jak. His blood was starting to boil.

  “Basically, he wanted me to cut him in on the profits of the station. I refused, of course, but before he left he threatened to bring the rest of the Galactic Guard in and ruin the place. Or, soak up all of my mon
ey. A few bad guys with Guard ties have been dropping by from time to time.”

  Jak’s run-ins with the Galactic Guard were frequent, since Murdock had signed on. The Guard was essentially a makeshift police force that had been created by a few of the planets with more powerful positions in Azore’s Crown. Like all bureaucratic establishments they had the desire for power, and with that came the necessity for control.

  The governments of these planets had come to the realization that they could not possibly drum up the amount of resources needed to create an official group to enforce their policies. Armies were out of the question — too expensive. When it came to the point where the world leaders were required to actually work together, it became clear that maintaining a constant level of communication between planets light years away was much harder than it seemed, when dealing with people who are not really all that skilled at listening.

  In the end, they had little need for their own military force, since there were so many pilots who had made their way out into space in hopes of discovery and prosperity. Unfortunately necessity and greed morphed many of them into a breed who would sell their own sisters for a little bit of cash. This played perfectly into the hands of the planets that sponsored the Galactic Guard.

  In order to create the force, they simply had to put out a call for any pirate, mercenary, traitor or lowlife with a ship that could be used jointly by both the owner and the Guard when needed. This essentially created an army of privateer vessels that anyone could join, as long as you had a decent ship and a heart of stone. The prize would be money and protection. The cost would be living with the completion of the deeds of oppression for a group of clueless leaders. It might be moving a settlement by force one week and something as petty as stealing water the next week. The Guard’s new focus quickly became wealth, as the greed combined with the desire for impossible supremacy.

  The result in the end was laughable when it came to the actual logistics, but somewhat frightening to honest people. No one really knew what anyone else was doing and no one cared. The pilots bullied their way into income while flying the flag of immunity. When the governments saw how much money could be generated in their semi-organized crime syndicate they turned the other cheek when the crews went out and found their own work in between the sparse official missions.

  “Do you think they’re gonna move in here and take over?” asked Jak. “I figure the big wigs have lost control of these guys by now. They’re just flying around starting fights and pick-pocketing. There’s no way these idiots would know how to run a space station. Especially one as classy as this.”

  Rusty was able to squeeze out a small grin through his worried look. “They seem to be sizing the place up and I’m pretty sure Murdock was serious. He seems to be going from being a traitorous ass into an actual problem.”

  “Well that is his strong suit, isn’t it.”

  “I think he’s getting in over his head,” said Rusty, “One of my contacts told me that he’s been dealing with Captain Cartrite.”

  Jak and Baxter shared a nervous glance and Baxter stopped eating.

  “Well then he’s a fool,” said Jak. “A dead fool. Cartrite will eat a weasel like that for breakfast.” Jak’s stomach bubbled at his own mention of eating and breakfast. “He’ll murder his own crew if they disappoint him.”

  “And,” continued Rusty, “to make matters worse, your trip to Scoparia for those little artifacts generated more interest than you thought. I even heard a couple of folks around here talking about how you and Baxter were going out on that grab. Murdock obviously found out about it too and from what I’ve heard, he had some contact with Cartrite around the same time. Our old pal Dodge just saw him out in the Nossus system. We think he’s headed out to the Squalid Sector to meet up with Cartrite.”

  Jak took a moment to absorb what he had heard and process it through his cloudy head.

  “Okay,” said Jak. “Let’s say that he is going out there to make a deal with Cartrite. What do we care? He’ll get shot and then we’ll be done with him.”

  “He’s got your score from the freighter, Jak.”

  “What does Cartrite want with old dusty relics? This guy eliminates entire colonies for cash and I honestly don’t care enough to go chasing after them.”

  Rusty acted genuinely disappointed. “I’m surprised at you, my boy. It’s not like you to let something like this go. Especially when it involves your old friend Murdock.”

  “No point in getting ourselves killed,” added Baxter, wiping his face with a cloth in completion of his meal. “I’m sure we can figure out a better way to make some money.”

  “For once I agree with Baxter,” said Jak.

  “Where’s your spirit?” Rusty was determined.

  “Wait a second,” said Jak. “Why do you care so much?”

  “Well—”

  “You want us to go out there and steal back his haul,” interrupted Jak. “Don’t you? Get the artifacts back, sell them off and beat some sense into Murdock.”

  “Now this sounds like we may have a plan forming,” said Rusty. He was becoming reenergized with the talk of the rebellious behaviour.

  “Oh and I’m sure you’ll want a big cut of the profits,” said Jak.

  “Well,” started Rusty with a smirk, “I am taking care of you guys right now.”

  Jak rolled his eyes.

  “And, I’m fixing your ship.”

  Jak let out a breath of defeat.

  “Come on Phoenix,” Rusty said loudly. “You know you don’t want to let Murdock off easy for this.”

  “What do you want me to do?” asked Jak. “Punch him and tell him to leave you alone? He’ll just bring in his buddies even sooner. And, he’ll be more pissed off about it too.”

  “No, I don’t think so.” Baxter felt like chiming in. “Remember, these guys aren’t actually friends with each other. They just work together for convenience. If we humiliated him and busted up his ship at the same time, I’d bet the other captains in the guard would want to distance themselves from him. They don’t want to be involved with dead weight.”

  Jak and Rusty both looked to Baxter, surprised with his unexpectedly courageous input.

  Rusty slammed his fist into the table and shouted, “Baxter’s got it.” Jak knew Rusty was a good salesperson, picking up on the nuances of the conversation.

  Jak looked over to Baxter. “Thanks.”

  “No, really,” said Baxter. “I think it’s time we show Murdock that in this galaxy, we are the best at stealing back things that we were going to steal first.”

  Jak gave him a dead stare.

  “So what do you say, Jak?” asked Rusty. “I’d be forever in your debt.”

  Jak held his chin and looked down at the table before taking a large gulp of his coffee.

  “I’m assuming you know something I don’t about these artifacts,” said Jak. “We wouldn’t be running across the Crown on a revenge mission, if they weren’t worth a lot more than what you would get from a collector for a couple of museum pieces.”

  “You bring ‘em back to me and I’ll take care of them. I’ve already got a few people inquiring.”

  “We’ll need some gear.”

  “You know I’ve got junk all over this place.”

  “And guns.”

  “Of course,” said Rusty. “It is a revenge mission after all.”

  “And, we might as well throw a few upgrades at the Tempest.”

  “Already started.”

  Jak took another sip of coffee and finally said, “Alright.”

  Rusty slapped Jak across the back and grunted some kind of celebratory noise, spilling much of the rest of Jak’s coffee. He was smiling ear to ear.

  “Let’s go check on your ship,” said Rusty.

  “You got anything to eat first?” asked Jak. “I’m starving.”