Chapter Twenty-Two - Necessary Steps
“Where are we going?” asked Murdock.
“Down,” answered Jak. It was true.
The three escapees had entered a vertical conduit, housing a thick power line running from the top of the ship to the bottom. Jak held onto the dusty rungs of the narrow ladder as he descended through near darkness into the ship, passing level after level while in a place temporarily evading the eyes of their captors. Above Jak was Cyan. Out of courtesy, he tried not to look up at the intriguing sight overhead. Above her was Murdock. Below Jak was absolute darkness which could have ended at a floor twenty feet or one mile below them. It was impossible to tell, but the feeling in Jak’s bones told him it was a long drop.
“Do you actually have a destination in mind?” asked Murdock.
Murdock’s attitude and behaviour had re-established themselves at the same rate in which he gained back his energy and strength. The good news was that he was now limber enough to follow along and not need physical support, while the bad news was that he would be a consistent nuisance to the atmosphere of their journey.
Jak quickened his pace, but decided to let Murdock in on some details, so he would be quiet. “I saw what looked like a munitions locker on the schematic.” The faster he progressed downward, the faster he could end his conversing with Murdock. He had to proceed carefully, holding the chest of tablets under one arm, while gripping the slippery ladder with his other. He was sure Cyan would have been fine holding the heavy crate, but once he saw her clumsily manoeuvring down with the extra weight, he realized he would not have been able to live with himself if he had allowed her to continue on.
“What are you planning to do once we’re there?”
“Bust in and steal some stuff,” said Jak. “It’s what we’re supposed to be good at, remember?”
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I never stopped being good at it.”
“Oh, and that’s why you were laying on a table, strapped down for experiments?”
“A minor setback. I would have found my opportunity to escape.”
“I’m sure you—”
“Shut up,” said Cyan, stopping and halting their procession. “Seriously, just shut the hell up.”
“I—”
“I don’t want to hear it. Get your heads together. We’ve got a lot of work to do, and we have a very tiny chance of success that is going to be ruined by you two bickering like an old married couple. I don’t care what your problem is with each other, but you can deal with it on your own after we get out of here. Right now, for better or for worse, we’re in this together.”
Jak said nothing and looked down at the bottomless shaft. Maybe he should just let go of the ladder and end it right now. It certainly seemed like the most comforting choice. However, that would show that Murdock had the stronger soul. Jak squeezed the last amount of will power out of his body and continued climbing down the ladder. Murdock and Cyan followed.
Minutes ticked by and Jak’s strained arms grew more and more tired. One arm ached from supporting his weight on the ladder. The other throbbed and was becoming numb from being clenched around the old Balarian chest. He looked at his arm to make sure it was still attached to his body, and noticed his broken wrist communicator. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t taken it off and thrown it away yet. After it had been destroyed by Cartrite’s soldier in the cargo bay of Murdock’s ship, it had become just another piece of dead weight. Since Jak already felt he was carrying more than his fair share of useless cargo, he decided he’d rip it off and let his wrist breathe at the next opportunity.
Seeing the communicator reminded him of Baxter. Had he escaped successfully? Jak didn’t even really know for sure. Cartrite could have easily incinerated the Tempest. If Baxter did get away, Jak hoped he was still gaining distance and moving as far as he possibly could from this mad ship of weirdoes.
Jak’s foot tapped something below him and he stopped short. The sole of Cyan’s shoe nearly crushed Jak’s hand on the rung before she stopped, and Murdock nearly did the same to her from above.
“What?” whispered Cyan.
“I think this is it.”
They had reached a junction in the conduit where several other dark tunnels branched off. Beyond the chasm, Jak could barely make out a ledge waiting for them in the blackness. Another horizontal conduit bent off from the main and wrapped around a corner. This was where they needed to be, at least from what Jak could remember from the cryptic schematic. He hadn’t considered what he would do if there was no way out of the conduit and back into the main areas.
“Stay here,” whispered Jak almost silently.
He took a few more steps downward beside the pipeline until his waist was in line with the ledge outcropped from the chasm wall. He held on to the ladder tightly and stretched out his arm as far as he could. This gave him just enough room to position the very edge of the Balarian chest onto the ledge floor. He adjusted his body and moved the arm supporting the chest in an attempt to wiggle and coax it to safety.
After some prodding, Jak was able to get over half of the chest supported on the platform. It was enough to balance it so it wouldn’t tip, so Jak let go and shoved it comfortably onto the surface. With two arms on the ladder for the first time, Jak felt like he had the strength of ten men, only because of the adaptation he had made to only using one limb.
His skittered back up a few steps and reached his foot over to the ledge beside the chest. It wasn’t all that far away, but it still posed a danger, with the unknown depths below them. Jak found as solid a footing as he was going to get and used his arms to give his body the momentum to make the small hop to the other side.
“ATTENTION, JAK PHOENIX.”
Captain Cartrite’s voice boomed and echoed through the tunnel and Jak, startled by the unexpected noise, fell the rest of the way onto the narrow ledge. As the fought to gain his balance, his first thought was that the voice was coming from a person inside the tunnel. As it continued, he realized it was being broadcast on a speaker system throughout the ship.
“It has come to my attention that you have chosen to move about my ship in an unauthorized manner. This is just a notification that my crew and protection force has been made aware of your location and will soon extract you. That is all.”
“Come on,” whispered Jak, motioning for Cyan to make her way to the ledge.
Cyan reached over and grasped Jak’s hand. She was guided safely to the other side of the conduit. Jak repeated the same thing for Murdock, considering whether he should let go of his hand and drop him into the darkness below.
“This way,” whispered Jak. He guided them around the dark corner, heading toward a dull light shining throughout the low tunnel up ahead.
“What’s the point?” asked Murdock. “You heard what he said. He knows where we are. We cannot afford to make matters worse.”
“He obviously doesn’t really know where we are,” answered Cyan. Jak was glad he didn’t have to field this one. “If he did, he wouldn’t be announcing it over the intercom. He’s trying to draw us out into the open by scaring us.”
“Shhh.” Jak had reached the source of the dull light and was waiting for the others to catch up to him.
In front of Jak, the floor dropped down by at least a foot. He could now see that the dull light emanated from a room below and lit the passageway above through a grate allowing for air movement.
Jak motioned to Murdock and Cyan to stay still and carefully stepped down onto the ceiling of the room below. It only made a miniscule creak, but Jak could feel the give in the floor, because of its lack of density. He would have to tread lightly over this weak material.
Step by cautious step he moved closer to the grate, until he could see into the room below. When Jak saw the rows of rifles lining the wall, he knew they had found the correct area of the ship. The only problem was the two men underneath him.
One of the men was out of sight, while the other was very close to the area below
the grill. Jak drew his gun as he observed the two crewmen carrying on with their inane dialog. He could confirm, by the men’s discussion consisting of stories of women and drunkenness that probably weren’t true, that they would not be an overly sophisticated target.
What could he do? He could probably cleanly pick off the one soldier though the ventilation grate, but then where would that leave him? The other man would either call for help or blow a hole in the thin ceiling beneath Jak. His only chance was surprise.
If he threw his weight onto the grate, he’d fall through and even potentially take out the man below in one unexpected flash. A quick turn would line up the other unsuspecting guard in his sights before he could do anything. Jak decided to do it like jumping into cold water. The more you delay, the harder it is for you to force yourself to do it.
Jak armed his weapon and rebounded off one foot to give extra weight to his body, as both of his feet came down onto the grate. When he hit the grate hard and realized he had only succeeded at making a rattling ruckus, Jak wondered why he hadn’t considered that there would be a chance that the grate would not simply collapse for him.
The man below immediately looked above him and began firing his rifle. Blast after blast sparked through metal supports and ricocheted around the dark cavity. Jak took a panicked step backward and tripped, landing on his backside and trying to skit back across the ceiling with his hands supporting his upper body.
The second man was also blasting away wildly. New points of light were forming around Jak as shots from the rifles penetrated the weak ceiling. Jak could tell the men were having fun. He could also tell that he was starting to move.
As the support beams were weakened by the laser blasts, the ceiling had begun to shift. After another large spark in front of him, it gave out entirely at the midpoint. With the broken support structure still affixed at the far wall, it collapsed diagonally, with the area above opening up into the room below.
Jak could not hold on and was dumped into the room with the rest of the broken metal and shrapnel.
He hit the deck close to one of the men and was able to blast him in the midsection as the guard instinctively shielded himself from the falling debris. Jak quickly slid across the littered room, into a position behind a pile of wreckage. The blasts from the man on the other side of the room followed him into his shelter. Jak felt the heat of a laser blast tear through the fabric of his pants, narrowly missing his vulnerable flesh.
Jak’s saw his opponent laughing and spitting some kind of indecipherable threats as he fired his weapon repeatedly. The only positive fact Jak could see was that the two men had been so focused and blowing off their guns that they had neglected to call for help. The guard would have to be taken care of quick, before he realized the same thing.
Jak threw his gun over the edge of the pile and fired two quick shots in succession. The first missed by a long shot, impacting on the wall. The second deflected off some junk and nearly came back and eliminated Jak instead. Jak dropped to the floor as his opponent gained the nerve to fire off a few of his own shots.
Jak realized Cyan was standing at the edge of the rubble of the destroyed ceiling. She had the chest of tablets in her arms and was giving him one of those looks where he was supposed to figure out what she meant without any words. Although this time, he understood.
“Alright, alright,” shouted Jak in between rounds of firing. He surrendered his gun into the air from behind his shelter. “I give up.”
Jak heard the crunch of broken shards as the man traipsed across the floor toward him. He also heard him curse and drop his weapon as the heavy Balarian chest smacked down on to him from above. Jak pounced to his feet, aligned his gun and finished the job with an accurate shot.
Before analyzing the situation, he turned and rushed to the door, verified it was locked, and used the same method he used on the lab door to weld it shut with his gun. Half of the crew must have heard that mess. They were probably already gathering outside as he stood there.
There was enough jagged garbage hanging down from the ceiling to form a suitable, yet dangerous staircase allowing Cyan to carefully make her way down to the floor level. Her first stop was the chest of tablets.
“Nice move,” said Jak.
“Thanks,” said Cyan. “So I’m assuming we’re going back the way we came,” she continued, getting right back to business.
“We’re gonna have to. I didn’t exactly plan on making that much noise in here.”
Jak turned to face the door as he heard the sound of what was likely a laser torch, beginning its work on freeing the door. He wasn’t surprised.
“Quick,” commanded Jak, “we have to load up and get out—” Jak watched Murdock in his torn ragged clothing sliding and tripping while daintily trying to scale down the broken metal. “For God’s sake, would you hurry up?”
Murdock didn’t answer.
Jak bent down to the dead crewman and unbuttoned his jacket. He manipulated the heavy body so he could peel the coat off. The pants were simpler. Jak bundled up the uniform and threw it over to Murdock as he reached the floor. He didn’t see it coming, as it bounced off the side of his shoulder and onto the floor.
“What’s this?”
“It’s clothes. You are wearing trash. Put them on, and you’ll probably feel better.”
Jak shook his head and focused in on the arms wall. He grabbed the first three repeating rifles he saw. He threw the strap over his shoulder and tossed one to Cyan. He removed three small hand pistols off their mounts and slid one under his belt, tossed the other to Cyan and approached Murdock. After he finished buttoning up the bland looking jacket, Jak handed him one large rifle and one of the small pistols. The moment Jak handed them off, he felt like he had made a mistake.
Jak rushed to the other side of the room and flipped open the lid of a long storage compartment. It was lined with detonators and explosives of all shapes and sizes. A lucky score.
In a corner he spotted a couple of large black carrying bags with straps. He dumped out the bits and pieces of one of them and tested it over his shoulder and around the other side of his body. Calculating his needs as he went, Jak scooped the Balarian chest off the floor and worked it into the sack. This would be a big improvement over carrying them under one arm while scaling a ladder.
Back at the big box of bombs, Jak made a few choice selections. He picked a few timed explosives and also a few that seemed to be controlled remotely. There was a string of concussion grenades which he gave to Cyan, who eagerly strapped them across her chest as she also went about the room looking for any supplies she thought she could make use of.
A carton of proximity explosives piqued Jak’s interest as he saw the edge of the door begin to tarnish and take on a deep glow. The coating on the metal started to hiss and smoke. It wouldn’t be long before they burned their way through.
The little magnetic explosives were simple, but would be very effective. Jak had used similar charges before; they were just far older and rustier than Captain Cartrite’s. On the side was a tiny knob you could spin with your thumb to tell the device how long to give you before arming itself. Once armed, the bombs would detonate at the first detection of movement.
Jak jammed his carrying bag with anything we could grab, and took two of the magnetic bombs over to the quickly deteriorating door. He set them for what he hoped was a one minute delay and jammed one onto each side of the door frame.
As Jak turned, Murdock and Cyan seemed to have read his mind and were already heading back up the staircase of rubble. He chugged over to join them, at once realizing the ridiculous weight he had added to his body with the weaponry.
Jak dragged himself through the remnants of the roof, and was surprisingly greeted by Murdock’s waiting hand near the top, ready to pull him over the last step. It could have been out of appreciation for Jak getting him to this point, but it was probably only because Murdock wanted them to move faster to escape the danger that was quickly app
roaching.
Back in the maintenance tunnels above the room, the three rushed down the dark path and back to the main vertical power conduit in the ship’s circulatory system. Jak was thinking about the explosives he had set. The charges would be armed by now, making it just a matter of seconds before the crew would break through the door and be greeted by their own hostile devices. He hoped they weren’t too powerful, being that they were going off in a munitions room. Jak wanted an explosion, but not one big enough to blow a hole in the ship and end their journey as quickly as it would end Cartrite’s. Either way, it wasn’t going to be pretty.
At the highest speed Jak could muster, he led them back down the ladder, jumping off at the next outcropping. Murdock was the next to jump off. Cyan lined herself up to follow but was interrupted by the heavy pulse and head shattering smack echoing around and around the tunnel.
Jak reached forward and met up with Cyan as she made a weak jump off the shivering ladder. He connected with her and pulled her back as close to the wall as he could. The explosion had thrown some debris which went whistling and fluttering down the power pit, the metal and plastic bits clanging around as they dropped down the tunnel. The steel shell of the room had contained the majority of the concussion, but the low rumble grabbed at their stomachs and the shake played havoc with their equilibriums.
When the dust settled, all was quiet, at least for the moment. The violence of the explosion above could not possibly have left anyone alive. Maybe it had even taken out Zelus. Jak’s heart fluttered slightly as the thought that he was carrying a dozen identically powerful explosive devices in a bag strapped against his body crossed his mind.
“Come on, we’ve got to keep moving. They’re obviously gonna know where we are and come after us with everything they’ve got.”
Jak adjusted his gear and hopped back onto the ladder, continuing his journey downward. The others followed.
“Good job, Jak,” said Cyan as they climbed. He had been caught off guard, not used to hearing positive comments about anything regarding himself.
“Thanks,” he replied. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that explosives solve everything.”