Earthman Jack vs. The Ghost Planet (37 page)

Shepherd looked down at her.  Though his helmet hid his face
completely, she could hear the sadness in his voice.

“Anna, please…” he said softly.

Anna could feel her warm tears streaming down her face, the
cold armor of the Paragon on her hand, and the soft grip of Jack on her wrist. 
She felt as though she were being torn in two, unable to find the strength to
make the choice she knew she had to.

Then, she felt Jack’s grip on her become firmer.  She
suddenly felt him beside her.  When she turned and looked at him, she saw on
his face a look that told her he – this boy who had lost everything he loved
mere hours ago – knew what she was feeling.  When he spoke, he understood the
decision she was facing.

“We have to
go
,” he said.

Jack began to lead her away, and this time Anna did not
resist.  She looked at Shepherd, wanting to tell him good-bye.  Wanting to tell
him she loved him.  Wanting to let him know that he was all the family she had
left… but no matter how hard she tried, her throat remained choked, and for the
life of her, the words could not come out.

Deep down, Anna knew she had to leave him – knew that he’d
never allow any other decision to be made.  As Jack pulled her away, down the
stark corridors of the ship, she glanced back one last time, and saw Paragon
Shepherd – proud and tall and courageous – standing alone against what she knew
to be certain doom.

And as she rounded the corner, losing sight of the man who
had been her protector, her confidant, her rock – she felt the sharp ache of
sorrow sting her chest, and sadness enshrouded her like a blanket.

He was gone.

Jack raced down the hallway, with Grohm
right there beside him.  Jack was fast, but the Rognok took such large strides
he was able to keep up.  Major Ganix, along with Scallywag, followed a few feet
behind.  Green and Heckubus ran beside Anna, and the remaining soldiers brought
up the rear.

Jack checked his mental map.  They were pretty far away from
where it told him the ship was, and who knew how many Deathlords were between
it and them?  However, since leaving Shepherd, they’d met no resistance.  After
his ship was able to deactivate all of the mothership’s teleportation rooms,
the Deathlords were now being forced to try to intercept them on foot, and it
was one heck of a big ship to be running around in.

“Bloody hell,” puffed Scallywag from behind, his face looking
pained as he ran with one hand holding his side.  “We gotta slow down.”

“Jack,” said Ganix, also breathing hard.  “How much
further?”

“We’re pretty far away,” said Jack.  “There’s not a direct path
to the hangar bays.  We gotta take a route around the center of the ship.”

Ganix nodded.  “Halt!” he said, holding up a hand.  The
group all slowed to a stop, some bending over their knees and clutching their
sides.

Jack turned and saw his tired companions catching their
breaths.  Even Anna looked like she was barely able to stand.  Jack had
forgotten that most of the men had been going on very little food or water for
some time, and the trek out of the Pit was exhausting in and of itself.  But he
wasn’t so sure taking a breather in the middle of the Deathlord’s mothership
was such a good idea.

“We gotta keep moving,” warned Jack.  “More Deathlords could
be here any minute.”

“And a fat lot of good we’ll be if we pass out before
getting to shoot at ‘em,” grumbled Scallywag.

“Scallywag’s right, Jack,” said Ganix.  “We can’t keep up
this pace.  The Pit itself is miles in diameter.  If it’s the core of this ship,
running the whole way isn’t going to do us any good.”

Jack looked around anxiously.  He glanced up at Grohm, who
didn’t seem to be breathing hard, or even sweating for that matter.  Nothing
seemed to faze the Rognok.  The massive alien didn’t seem the least bit worried
or scared, and yet, Jack was still on edge.

Why am I so nervous?
Jack thought.  Sure, he was
trying to escape from an army of evil aliens on their own mothership, but Jack
didn’t remember feeling this anxious when the group had made its way to
Shepherd and Professor Green’s rendezvous point.  Something was different now. 
He felt like he was watching someone squeezing a balloon, the anticipation of
its popping filling him with anxiety.

Jack looked down the hallway to the end where it intersected
with another corridor.  He thought he could hear something echoing down the
metallic walkways of the Deathlord’s ship.  He tapped Grohm.

“Yo, big guy,” he said.  “You hear that?”

Grohm turned in the direction Jack was looking and snorted. 
Jack listened harder.  It was faint at first, an almost rhythmic sound steadily
thumping in the distance.  Slowly but surely, the sound was growing louder.

Instinctively, Jack took a few steps back, not taking his
eyes off the end of the hallway.

“Um… guys?” said Jack timidly.

Ganix and Scallywag looked up at Jack.  “What is it?” asked Ganix.

The sound was growing louder now, a relentless
thump-thump-thump
that bounced off the dull metallic walls.  Ganix straightened in alarm, as did
Scallywag, as the sound finally reached their ears.

Finally, at the end of the corridor, a squad of Dark Soldiers
rounded the corner, marching in frightening unison, their coordinated footsteps
hitting the ground all at once, like drum beats of impending doom.

“Break’s over!” cried Jack as he took off in the opposite
direction.

Ganix and Scallywag both cursed as they raised their weapons
and fired.  Grohm snorted and backed up, holding his massive club before him
defensively.

“Move, move, move!” yelled Jack to those at the back of the
group. The soldiers saw the Deathlords and immediately began falling back,
their weapons at the ready.  Jack grabbed Anna and began ushering her back down
the hallway, with Heckubus staying close by.

“Blast!  These Deathlord henchmen are annoyingly efficient!”
the robot muttered.

Red bolts of plasma fire rocketed overhead, causing the
Professor and Anna to squeal and duck for cover.  A bolt caught one Imperial
Soldier in the back of the head, dropping him.  Porter moved to the side,
pushing himself flat against the wall so he could offer the Princess some added
cover fire as Ganix, Scallywag, and Grohm continued to back down the hallway,
firing as they did so.

Jack glanced back as the Deathlords fired again.  Grohm
lifted his club, shielding himself from a few plasma bolts that tore into his
weapon, shredding it.  Grohm discarded the remains of the club, now charred and
smoking.  Ganix and Scallywag continued to fire from behind the Rognok, hitting
some of the Deathlord soldiers as they marched relentlessly down the hallway toward
them.

As the soldiers at the rear of the group reached an intersection,
they fanned out, leaning over from behind the walls and firing, allowing the
others some opportunity to retreat.  Jack took Anna by the arm and led her to cover,
along with Heckubus and Green.  Porter, Ganix, Scallywag, and Grohm weren’t far
behind. The group split up on either side of the intersecting hallway and fired
back at the Dark Soldiers.

“Jack!” cried out Ganix.  “We’re gonna need an alternate
route!”

Ya think?
Jack thought.  He checked his mental map
and started to wonder why he was getting such intense feelings of anxiety
before the Deathlords had appeared.  Was it possible he somehow had known they
were headed toward the group?

“Blast it!” sneered Scallywag, firing from behind the
corner.  “They just keep coming!”

Anna turned to Jack.  “We should go back,” she said.

“What?” replied Jack, not believing what he was hearing.

“We can’t leave him behind,” said Anna.  “We need to help
him!”

“As much as I’m inclined to agree with you,” chimed in
Professor Green, “I’m afraid there’s not much we’d be able to do to assist Paragon
Shepherd.”

“We have to try!” insisted Anna.

“I know the Paragon quite well, Your Highness,” continued
Green.  “And the last thing he’d want is for you to put yourself in jeopardy on
his behalf.”

“Shepherd can take care of himself, Anna,” said Jack. 
“Right now, we need to focus on getting to the ship.”

“He’d come for you,” said Anna, her face hard and serious.

“Yeah, and he’d also kick my butt if I let anything happen
to you,” retorted Jack.  “And in case you haven’t noticed, we have enough
problems right now!”

“You know what he’s facing,” said Anna, staring at him
intensely with her brilliant blue eyes.  “Zarrod, the Deathlord Supreme – he’s
far too powerful.  We can’t just leave him to die.”

Jack gritted his teeth.  He knew she was right, but for the
life of him, he didn’t know what he could do that would be of any help to
either Shepherd or their current situation.  Maybe if he had a better idea of
where the Dark Soldiers were, he could somehow get everyone to safety and help
Shepherd retreat.

“Jack!” cried Ganix.

“I’m thinking!” responded Jack, testily.

Jack reached out to his ship, the back of his head buzzing. 
Can you tell me where the Deathlords are?
 he asked. 
Is that why I
could feel them coming?

Suddenly, his mental map changed.  Now, there were tiny dots
working their way through the corridors and rooms the ship was revealing to his
mind, specifically in the hallway in front of him.  Jack could only assume
those tiny dots were, in fact, the bad guys.

“Oh, crap,” muttered Jack.

“What is it?” asked Green.

“No doubt you’ve somehow discovered that the Deathlords are
stationing troops in every route possible that might take us to your ship,”
said Heckubus.

“Yeah,” frowned Jack.  “How’d you know?”

“That’s what I’d do,” replied Heckubus.  “In fact, it is
highly unlikely that we’ll be able to reach your vessel at all.  If the
Deathlords are even halfway competent, they’ll be positioning their troops to
flank us and cut us off from any movement we could make, eventually surrounding
us from all sides and annihilating us.”

“I say, you’re quite an optimistic robot, aren’t you?” said
Green.

“Your attempts at ironic mockery will be noted, Trundel,”
warned Heckubus.  “And when the revolution comes—”

“Quiet!” insisted Jack.  “I need to think…”

Jack didn’t need to check his mental map again to know
Heckubus was right.  Already, he could see the troop movements, and the net the
Deathlords had cast was tightening around them.  He bit his lip.  “There’s
gotta be a way,” he mumbled.

“Lucky for you, Earthman,” said Heckubus, sidling up to him,
twiddling his fingers.  “I have an idea…”

“What is it?” asked Jack.

“Your mental map of the ship… are you able to locate the
closest teleportation bay?”

Jack’s eyes widened.  According to his map, there was indeed
a teleportation bay close by.  “That’s it!” he said.  Jack turned to Anna,
grabbing her by the shoulders excitedly.  “We can go to the nearest teleport
station and beam Shepherd away from the Deathlord Supreme!”

Anna’s face brightened with hope.

“Actually,” said Heckubus, “I was thinking more along the
lines of teleporting us directly to your vessel so we don’t get our faces shot
off by the Deathlords.”

“So we rescue Shepherd and then teleport directly to the
ship!” exclaimed Anna.  “Jack, you’re a genius!”

She threw her arms around Jack and gave him a grateful hug. 
Heckubus glowered at the two of them.

“Actually,
I’m
the genius…” the robot started to say.

“Major,” called out Anna.  Ganix turned to look at her. 

“There’s been a change of plans,” said the Princess.

Shepherd tried to concentrate.  The
energy from the Deathlord was unlike anything he had ever experienced before –
the unrelenting onslaught raged against his shield, and the longer it went on,
the more tired he felt himself become.  Manifesting his energy shields always
took some measure of concentration on his part, but now it was as if the shield
were funneling his very strength out of him, a sensation he had never encountered
before.

He had to stay strong, he had to give the others enough time
to get back to the ship – and their odds of doing so were much greater with the
Deathlord Supreme otherwise occupied.

Suddenly, Shepherd felt the Deathlord’s blast intensify.  A
sound, like a thousand people screaming in pain, filled the air, It was as if
the very energy being hurled at him had a life of its own.  He could almost
feel the unholy noise dig into his skin, rip at his soul, and weaken him
further.

His golden shield began to flicker.  The power it was
fighting off was just too strong.

Finally, the blast broke through.  It slammed into Shepherd
with the force of a freight train and sent him flying back from the impact.  He
hit the ground hard and tumbled.  The sickly white energy of the Deathlord’s
blast coiled and snaked around him, and he could feel it digging through his
armor.  His entire body screamed in pain.

He struggled to clear his head and his concentration
returned, giving his suit the power it needed.  With a crackle of electricity, it
fought off the lingering death energy, though by that time it had done its
damage.  Parts of his skin felt like they were on fire, and his entire body
shivered as if he had just been electrocuted.

“Impressive…” echoed a deep voice.  “I have never
encountered a being able to withstand my attack as long as that.”

Shepherd slammed his fist into the floor and pushed himself
up, struggling back to his feet and standing tall, despite his body protesting
with every muscle.  He faced the Deathlord Supreme, full on, without fear.

“Frankly,” said the Paragon, “I expected more.”

Zarrod regarded him with his burning red eyes.  He loomed
before an entire squad of Dark Soldiers standing silently behind him.  They
made no move to attack, deferring to their master as he gazed at the Paragon.

“I am Zarrod, the Deathlord Supreme - culler of worlds,
master of darkness, and bane to all that is living.  No force can harm me, no
weapon can strike me, no army can defeat me.  I am the Omega, and the universe
trembles at my fury.  Who are you to stand against me?”

“I am Shepherd, of Regalus Prime - Warrior Paragon of the Order
of Peers – protector of the royal bloodline, defender of life, and disciple of
the Free Mind.  I do not yield, I do not falter, and I do not tremble at the
likes of you.”

Zarrod tilted his head curiously.  “A Paragon of the old
order,” he said.  “So that is what you are.”

“That and more,” said Shepherd, “as I’m eager to show you.”

“I have known many of your kind, Paragon,” said Zarrod.  “We
are not so different as you might think.”

“You know nothing of what I think.” 

“It is you who knows nothing,” snapped Zarrod, “else you
would be fighting by my side, rather than against me.”

“I do not side with tyrants and murders.”

“Just little girls, it seems.”

“That little girl is the herald of your downfall,” said
Shepherd.  “When given the choice, yes, I will side with her every time.”

“And if the girl were with me?” asked Zarrod.  “Whom would
you side with then?”

“That would never happen.”

“A disciple of the Free Mind knows that anything can happen.”

“Not that,” said Shepherd.  “Never that.”

“Then perhaps your mind is not as free as you would think,”
said Zarrod.  “The Princess will not get off this ship.  She will be mine.  And
when she is, she will help me unleash a doom upon this universe the likes of
which has never been seen.”

“Not if I can help it,” said Shepherd.

“And what makes you think you can?”

“Because I believe I can stop you,” the Paragon replied. 
“And that gives me the power to do so.”

The Deathlord chuckled.  “Your order and its doctrines,” he
lulled.  “They say your beliefs will give you power, but do they take into
account the power of my beliefs?” 

“What does a Deathlord believe in?” asked Shepherd.  “Other
than death and destruction…”

“A great many things,” replied Zarrod.  “All more fervently
than you.”

Shepherd activated the cannons on his gauntlet and they
sprung to life with a
CLACK
.  He raised his arms and unleashed a barrage
of plasma blasts, hoping to catch the Deathlord off guard.  Zarrod reacted
quickly, again batting the blasts away with his bare hands as though they were
nothing more than a nuisance.

In one fluid motion, Zarrod flicked his wrist at Shepherd
and flung a screaming ball of ghostly light, which writhed and twisted as it
shot forward toward him.  Shepherd stopped firing and quickly raised another shield
in front of him to block the blast, but the shield was weak, and the impact
from the Deathlord’s energy broke through it.

Shepherd was hit square in the chest, but luckily his shield
had absorbed most of the impact, otherwise the Paragon may have fallen then and
there.  However, instead he got a shock to his system and stumbled back a few
steps, trying desperately to regain his composure while tolerating the derisive
laughs from the Deathlord.

“Your attempts to occupy me while your friends flee do
nothing but prolong your suffering,” said Zarrod.  “They cannot escape.  There
is nowhere for them to run or to hide – not on my ship.”

Shepherd realized the Deathlord had been toying with him. 
Shepherd must have piqued his curiosity when he absorbed his death energy
attack.  Even though the Deathlord’s arrogance was great, the confidence in his
words sent shivers of doubt coursing through the Paragon’s body.  Shepherd
could only guess what other traps might have been laid for his companions.

“Surrender to me,” continued Zarrod.  “And I will allow you
and your friends to be culled, and join our ranks as Deathlords.”

“Join you?” said Shepherd, shocked.  “You… you’re able to
turn people into Deathlords?”

“Indeed,” replied Zarrod.  “Your spirits will join our
ranks.  You will be immortal, unstoppable, powerful beyond your wildest
dreams…”

“Never,” croaked Shepherd.

“I can free your mind, Paragon,” said Zarrod.  “I can free
it in a way your order would never allow you to experience.”

“You cannot tempt me, abomination,” said Shepherd.  “I see
you for what you are – sick and twisted – trapped and oppressed.  Your lies
have corrupted you beyond redemption, and you think I would choose that fate
for me and for those I love?”

The Deathlord bristled.  “No,” said Zarrod.  “You would
choose a far worse fate, it would seem.”

“I choose the fate I want,” said Shepherd.  “It will not be
given, and it cannot be taken away.  For better or worse, it is mine.  If I am
to die, I will die free.  And as long as I’m free, I can never truly die.”

“Do not be so sure of that,” growled Zarrod.

“And do not tell me what to think, Deathlord.  Right will
always defeat wrong.  Good will always triumph over evil.  And a Free Mind will
always win out over the likes of you.  That I believe.”

“The undeniable truth is you
cannot
win, Paragon, no
matter what you believe.  There is no more good and evil, no more right and
wrong – there is only victory and defeat.  The end has already been written. 
The outcome is already decided.” 

“Nothing ever truly ends,” said Shepherd.  “And nothing is
decided.  We make our own destiny.  We create the universe in which we live. 
You cannot change that.  No one can.”

“Oh, but I can,” growled Zarrod.  “Who will create the universe
you live in if all life is extinguished?  Death is coming, and it cannot be
stopped.  Not by you, not by your order, and certainly not by your Ancestors
whom you cling to so fervently.  Open your eyes, Paragon, and listen to the
sound of your doom.  The music is fading.  Your dance is dying.  It will all be
over for you and your kind very soon.”

“If that is the case, Deathlord,” said Shepherd as he unholstered
his batons, gripping them tightly and channeling what energy he had left into
them.

 “Come dance with me.”

And with that, the Paragon attacked.