Earthman Jack vs. The Ghost Planet (56 page)

He looked up to see a black figure crumpled on the floor
before him.  It was Zarrod, his armor charred and smoldering from the blast
unleashed by the breaking of the seal.  The Deathlord stirred and started
struggling to get back to his feet.

Jack tried to get up, but his legs didn’t seem to want to
work.  Every muscle in his body ached, and his head felt like it was about to
be split open from the inside.  He couldn’t think, he could barely see, and he
was in no condition to face the Deathlord again.  So he did the only thing he
could, which was to try to put as much distance as possible between himself and
his foe by crawling away.

Zarrod had made it to his feet, only to fall down again
weakly.  Jack could hear his guttural growl of frustration, which only made
Jack try harder to escape, working his elbows back and forth as he crawled along
the floor, his legs dragging behind him.

Finally, Jack was able to get a knee under him and pushed
himself up to his feet.  The room seemed to sway as he stumbled to and fro, but
he was off the ground at last. 

Each step was a battle.  Jack felt sensation creeping back
into his limbs, but he still was not able to walk straight.  He shook his head,
trying to clear his vision and to make his way to the stairs.  In the periphery
of his eyesight, he knew Zarrod was still there, and each moment he stayed within
reach of the Deathlord, he was in danger.

Then, Jack felt a tingle in the back of his head - a slight
buzzing sensation, as though an alarm was going off.  Suddenly, he knew he was
in deep trouble.

With every ounce of strength he could muster, he dove aside,
just as a ball of death energy whizzed by, impacting the stairs before him and
blowing a crater into the stone.

Jack rolled to his side.  The tingling in his head returned
and he looked over to see Zarrod limping toward him, his soulless red eyes
blazing with fury.

“What did you do?” cried Zarrod.  “What did you do... to
me!!!”

Zarrod stumbled and fell to one knee.  As he struggled to
get up, Jack realized, with a glimmer of hope - the Deathlord was actually hurt.

Jack mustered what strength he could and climbed to his
feet.  The Deathlord followed suit, and within moments, the two were staring
each other down.

“It’s called pain, Zarrod,” said Jack.  “Not so fun when
you’re on the receiving end, is it?”

“I underestimated you, Earthman,” growled Zarrod.  “But I
learn from my mistakes...”

Zarrod straightened and reached his clawed hand out toward
Jack. 

Suddenly, time seemed to slow... 

Jack’s mind instantly became clear.  It was an odd
sensation, as though he were acutely aware of everything around him.  All his
senses were heightened, and as his eyes focused on the Deathlord before him, it
was as if he could see everything there was to observe – his skin, his muscles,
his armor, the molecules that made them, the electrical impulses that sparked
within him – everything.

Jack was able to see inside the Deathlord, and saw a spark
of energy emanate from the center of Zarrod’s chest.  It wound its way through
his body, snaking around his outstretched arm, sprouting from his clawed
fingers, and writhing toward Jack as tiny blades of energy formed like barbs
around it.

Jack’s mind flashed to a mental image of Zarrod’s body,
looking past his armor and into his very being.  He saw the flow of the
Deathlord’s energy and how he was able to channel it.  Suddenly, it all made
sense.  Energy is what animated the Deathlord’s body, and energy could not be
destroyed.  That is why the Deathlords could not be killed, because despite
their outer shell, inside, they were just energy that could be manipulated,
controlled, and re-channeled as they saw fit.

In his mind’s eye, Jack saw an image of the human body, in
much the same way he saw Zarrod’s.  Though humans were made up of flesh and
blood, they too had an energy flow.  It was this energy the Deathlords fed on
and ripped from their victims.

And that’s when Jack realized… there was no difference
between the two types of energies.

Instinctually, Jack raised his hand as the Deathlord’s soul
culling shot toward him, and rather than allow it to burrow into him and
withdraw back to Zarrod, Jack allowed it to flow into his body, and grabbed
onto it with his own, not letting it leave.

Jack could feel the Deathlord try and tug his energy tendril
back, but Jack wasn’t about to let go.  Instead, he pulled, taking in more of Zarrod’s
energy.

Zarrod cried out in surprise, and tried to pull back again,
but Jack refused to release his hold.

“What – what’s happening?” cried Zarrod.  For the first
time, Jack heard fear in the Deathlord’s voice.  “What are you doing?!?!”

Jack grinned.

“Where I’m from,” said Jack, “it’s called
kicking your ass!
”

With that, Jack let go of his hold on Zarrod’s energy.  The
sudden release caused the Deathlord’s energy tendril to sling shot back toward Zarrod
violently, crashing into him. 

Zarrod screamed as his body disintegrated in a puff of black
dust and smoke, lingering sparks of his ghost energy wriggled in the air like a
fish out of water and slowly vanished.

Jack lowered his hand, absolutely amazed.  He had done it! 
He'd actually defeated a Deathlord!  Not just a Deathlord, but a Supreme one at
that!  Then, he realized that he wasn’t hurting any more.  In fact, he felt
incredibly energized.  It was as though he had somehow absorbed some of what Zarrod
had thrown at him, and it had invigorated him.

Jack looked around.  The massive room seemed quiet and
peaceful, and for the first time since setting foot on the planet, Jack felt
safe.  He smiled, allowing himself a moment to feel victorious.

Then he remembered Grohm.

Jack looked up where Zarrod had thrown Grohm and saw the
giant Rognok lying hunched against the crater he’d made in the dome. 

“Grohm!” yelled Jack as he ran up to him, leaping from bench
to bench, making his way to his friend.

Jack approached.  The gargantuan alien lay still, and for a
moment, Jack was afraid he was dead.  He had seen Grohm take some punishment
before, but what the Deathlord had dished out might have been too much, even
for him.

Grohm wasn’t moving.  Jack tried shaking him, to no avail. 
He put his ear to Grohm’s chest, but heard nothing – he wasn’t even sure if
Rognok’s had hearts, let alone where they’d be.

“Please, don’t be dead…” he muttered aloud.

Jack tried to access whatever it was that had shown him how
to take on Zarrod, but whatever switch was flipped mere moments ago didn’t seem
to want to work again.  When it came to Rognok anatomy, Jack was drawing a
blank.

Jack then remembered how Zarrod’s energy flowed through his
hand, and how Jack’s was able to do the same.  Grohm had two arms, sure enough,
so maybe they could act like conduits, too?

Jack grabbed one of Grohm’s massive mitts and tried to
remember what he did that shot his energy back into Zarrod.  If he were able to
transfer some of what he’d stolen from the Deathlord, maybe he could save Grohm?

It’s worth a try
, he thought.

Jack held tight to Grohm’s hand and concentrated.

And concentrated…

And concentrated.

But nothing seemed to be happening.  Jack couldn’t feel the
flow like he had with Zarrod.  He didn’t feel any different.  He had no idea if
what he was doing was even working.

“C’mon,” Jack muttered, squeezing Grohm’s hand tighter.  “I
was flinging awesomeness not two seconds ago!  Why aren’t you working?”

Jack closed his eyes and tried to imagine his life energy
flowing into Grohm.  He concentrated so hard, every muscle in his body tensed
and felt like it was going to rip.

Finally, he relented, and his head slumped in defeat. 

He’d failed.

“I’m sorry, big guy,” he said.

“Earthman...” came a familiar, gravelly voice.

Jack looked up.  Grohm’s eyes were open, looking directly at
him.

“No way!” exclaimed Jack.  “You’re alive?  YOU’RE ALIVE!”

Grohm snorted.  “Why is Earthman holding Grohm’s hand?”

Jack looked down and realized he was still grasping Grohm’s
palm.  He let go abruptly.

“I was… uh… just trying to save you with my sweet new
superpowers.  Did it work?”

Grohm furrowed his brow.  “Is Earthman suffering from head
wound?”

“I don’t think so,” said Jack.  “But… I guess it is a
possibility, considering what I’ve just been through.”

Grohm gently shoved Jack away and struggled back to his
feet.  Jack could see the Rognok was still wobbly in the knees and visibly
weakened.

“Dude, I wish you could have been conscious.  Zarrod was
about to kill me, but I broke the Great Seal, and absorbed some Ancient
knowledge, and then blew that jerk up!”

Grohm sniffed the air and looked down at Jack, his brow
raised slightly in surprise.  “Earthman killed Deathlord Supreme?”

“What?  Oh yeah, totally.  You should have seen it, dude.  I
had this great line about kicking his ass, it was so awesome…”

Grohm started to lumber away.

“Hey,” said Jack, “Where are you going?”

“Back to ship,” said Grohm.  “Battle is over.”

So much had been happening, Jack had almost forgotten about
the fact they were still on the Ghost Planet.

“Wait up,” said Jack.  “I need you to carry Anna.  She’s
unconscious and heavier than she looks.”

Grohm stopped and looked at Jack wearily.  Jack could tell
that the Rognok was hurting.  Suddenly, he was worried Grohm might not be able
to help, but the giant alien simply nodded.  Anna was right where Jack had left
her, and Grohm knelt down and gently picked her up, swung her over his
shoulder, and began making his way up the stairs, with Jack not far behind.

“So… you believe me about killing the Deathlord, right?” asked
Jack as they walked.

Grohm snorted.  He kept walking.

“Uh, right?” asked Jack again.

"What is happening?” growled Abraxas
as chaos reigned down around him.

Too much time had passed since he’d
last heard from the scout team he had sent out to investigate the mysterious
explosion they had detected earlier.  He had been about to join a group of Dark
Soldiers he’d summoned at one of the disembarkment hatches to investigate the
matter himself when every computer on the bridge had suddenly gone haywire.

Acolytes immediately went into crisis mode, opening panels
to check for hardware malfunctions while others frantically tried to get
responses from their assigned consoles.  Even the lights on the bridge began to
flicker, as if fighting to stay alive.

“Report!” he barked, to no one in particular.

“Warlord,” replied a nearby Acolyte.  “We have been locked
out of all systems.  Computers are unresponsive.”

“How is this possible?”

“Unknown, Warlord.  I have never seen anything like it.”

Abraxas reached out and dug his claws into the Acolyte’s
shoulder, pulling him close and gazing fiercely into his eyes.  “Don’t just
stand there – FIX IT!”

Annoyed, Abraxas threw the Acolyte across the room into two
of his companions, sending them crumpling to the ground.  The others began to
try to diagnose the problem even more frantically in response.  All Abraxas
could think about was how fortunate it was that he did not have the authority
to cull his own people, otherwise half the Acolytes in the room would be gone
by now.

Then, a familiar alarm rang out – one which normally filled
Abraxas with anticipation and joy but now just served to confuse him.

“Why is the main weapon powering up?” he yelled.

“Unknown, Warlord,” responded an Acolyte.

“If we’ve lost control of the computers, then who’s firing
up the weapon?”

“Unknown, Warlord,” responded another Acolyte.

“Don’t any of you know ANYTHING?” the Deathlord raged.

“Funny,” came a voice.  “I wonder the same thing
constantly.”

Abraxas turned to the source of the voice that had
responded, looking up at the bridge’s large viewscreen which was now dominated
by the image of a rather odd looking robot.

“Who are you?” growled the Deathlord.

“Me?” said the robot innocently.  “Why isn’t it obvious?  I
am the one who has unlocked the secret to your technology.  I am the one who
has taken over your ship.  I am the one powering up your weapon to blast the
unstable core of this planet and destroy you and every last one of your minions
with it.  I am your Superior.  I am your DOOM.  I am Heckubus Moriarty, the
greatest evil genius in eight star systems!  And I am the one who has beaten
you!  Mwuahahahahaha!”

As the robot laughed, Abraxas squinted at the image before
him.  In the back of his mind, he seemed to recall he’d seen this robot
somewhere before.

“Remember my name, fools!” said the robot triumphantly.  “It
is I who have brought the greatest threat the galaxy has ever known to its
knees!  I, and I alone have—”

“Wait a minute,” said Abraxas.  “I know you…”

The robot stopped suddenly and looked at Abraxas curiously. 
“You… you’ve heard of me?”

“No,” responded the Deathlord.  “You were with the
Earthman!”

“Hmph.  I don’t really see how that’s relev—”

“He’s here!” cried Abraxas.  “He’s the one behind this!”

“Now wait just one minute—”

“ACOLYTES!” Abraxas screamed.  “Destroy all current
systems.  Use your node stones to grow new ones and wipe out whatever pathetic
virus this robot uploaded before our weapon has a chance to fire.”

“Yes, Warlord!” all the Acolytes responded in unison.

“Pah!” sneered Heckubus.  “You won’t have time to—”

“Are our emergency communications still on a separate system
from the mainframe?” asked Abraxas.

“They are, Warlord,” replied a nearby Acolyte.

Abraxas punched an emergency switch at a console, causing a
circular podium to rise from the floor.  Holographic representations of his
Lieutenants from around the ship sprang to life before him.

“Quickly, have we had any disturbances on the ship?” he
inquired.

“None,” replied one of the holographic Deathlords.  “Except,
the escort from the Supreme’s return party has not checked back in, Warlord.”

“Then that must be where they infiltrated our systems,”
growled Abraxas.  “Send security squads two and three to that hangar.  Kill
anyone you find.  Air Squad six and seven…”

“Yes, Warlord?” replied two of the holographic Deathlords.

“Prepare to launch and cut them off if they try to escape. 
I’ll be joining you shortly.  After the intruders have been dispatched, we’ll
head to where their ship crashed and finish the job.”

“Yes, Warlord!” replied all the Lieutenants at once before
their images disintegrated.

“Well, uh…” twittered Heckubus nervously.  “It doesn’t
matter.  You’re entire ship is locked down.  You’ll never be able to get to—”

Before Heckubus could finish his sentence, Abraxas hurled a
few balls of death energy against the blast door to the bridge, blowing it off
its frame.

“Oh.  Oh, dear,” said the robot.

Abraxas turned and looked at the robot’s image on the
viewscreen, his eyes burning red.  “Thank you for alerting us to what was going
on,” he growled.  “And don’t worry.  I’ll make sure every Deathlord in every
corner of the galaxy knows the exact name of whom to hunt down and destroy,
should you somehow manage to survive what I am about to do to you and your
friends.”

And with that, the Deathlord rushed into the hallway.

“What do you mean we’re going to have company?” asked
Scallywag.

“’Tis a mystery to me how they figured out what we were up
to,” said Heckubus over the comm unit, “but regardless, they are sending two
security squads to your location, and will be there any minute.  I recommend
firing the weapon and making a hasty retreat.”

“But the bloody weapon ain’t even fully charged yet!”

“Oh, dear. Oh, dear. Oh, dear,” muttered Green as he
frantically typed away at the console in front of him.

“All that means is that it will take a little longer for the
planet to blow up after we fire it,” said Heckubus.  “Which, all things
considered, might not be a bad thing.”

“Not a bad thing at all,” came another voice over the
comms.  Green and Scallywag immediately perked up.

“Earthman?” said Scallywag with just a hint of amazement. 
“Is that you?”

“The one and only,” said Jack.  “Mission accomplished,
fellas.  Anna is safe, the Great Seal is broken, and the Deathlord Supreme’s
butt has officially been kicked.  So fire that baby off, and let’s blow this
popsicle stand.”

Green and Scallywag shared a look communicating that the
mention of a so-called “popsicle stand” was the least confusing thing about
what Jack had just said.

“Jack, my boy… that’s amazing!” said Green. “How did  you—”

“It’s a long story Professor – and I mean that this time. 
I’ll fill you in once we’ve made our escape.  Right now Grohm and I are on our
way back to where we stashed the hoverbikes.  Just do what you need to and meet
us back at the ship.”

“Smartest blasted thing I’ve heard all day,” said Scallywag,
turning to the Professor.  “You heard the lad, Trundle.  Engage that weapon and
let’s skirt out o’ here before this pop-cycle thing explodes, whatever that
means.”

Green continued to type furiously at the control panel. 
“I’m engaging the sequence now.  We’ll have a few minutes before the weapon is
charged up enough to fire.  I just hope your robot friend’s algorithm can keep
the Deathlords locked out of their systems long enough to keep them from
shutting it down.”

“Pah!  Ye of little faith,” squawked the robot over the
comms.  “It would take more than a few mindless Deathlords to unravel my
brilliant—”

Scallywag shut off his comms.  “Guess we’ll just haveta hope
our luck holds out.  Ya all done?”

Green tapped a few final keys triumphantly.  “Indeed,” he
replied.  “Firing sequence initiated.”

“Good,” said Scallywag as he backed Green away from the
Deathlord console and unholstered one of his blasters, promptly firing at it to
ensure it couldn’t be accessed again.  “Now get a move on.”

The Professor didn’t need to be told again.  He immediately
followed Scallywag out of the control room, bounding down the stairs two and
three at a time on the trek to the hangar bay floor.

No sooner had they touched down at their destination than an
explosion rocked a nearby door.

“Blast!” swore Scallywag as he grabbed Green by the arm
urgently.  “RUN!”

The two sprinted off, making directly for the hovervehicle on
which they had arrived, still parked in its alcove awaiting their return.

Two more loud explosions echoed throughout the massive hangar
bay.  The last one was followed by the whine of bending metal as the entrance door
flew off its hinges and blew apart.

Scallywag glanced up briefly from the controls of the
hovervehicle just long enough to see eight Dark Soldiers rush in, led by a
particularly nasty looking Deathlord whose elongated head was wrapped in dark
cloth, shrouding his face.

Scallywag grabbed the control stick to their vessel with one
hand and a blaster pistol with his other, firing at the group as he clumsily
backed the hovercraft out of its alcove.  The Deathlords responded in kind,
with their leader creating a glowing white orb of death energy in his hand.

Anticipating the attack, Scallywag banked the craft sharply
to the side as the Deathlord unleashed his orb, which rocketed right toward
them, narrowly missing.  Green stumbled from the abrupt maneuver and hit the
rail of the craft, nearly toppling over it.  Scallywag was sure if the
Deathlord’s attack had made contact, the hovercraft would have been rendered
useless.  He quickly holstered his weapon and focused on getting the heck out
of there.

“KILL THEM!” raged the head Deathlord.  “Do not let them
escape!”

Obediently, the Dark Soldiers all opened fire, sending a
barrage of plasma blasts toward the hovercraft.  Green and Scallywag ducked as the
pirate continued to maneuver the hovercraft toward the exit. Some plasma blasts
sparked off the craft’s sides as they hit their mark.

“Oh, dear,” cried Green.  “I do so hate being shot at!”

“Shoulda thought about that before hatching this bloody
brilliant scheme of yours,” muttered the Visini.

“No plan is perfect, my dear fellow,” the Professor replied.

“Well, buck up,” said the pirate.  “‘Cause I’ve got a
feeling things are gonna get a lot less perfect real soon.”

Scallywag punched up the hovercraft’s engine and dropped out
of the hangar bay into the tunnel below.  No sooner had they exited than Abraxas
rushed up to the ledge of the hanger, watching his prey make their escape.

“Jetpacks!” he ordered.  “Strap up!  NOW!”

The second Scallywag was clear of the hangar bay, he banked
the hovercraft hard to the right and started to make for open ground, away from
the mothership and toward the Earth vessel.  Sure, the Deathlords would more
than likely follow them, but the hovercraft they were on seemed plenty speedy
for their purposes, and they would more than likely be able to make it back to
their ship before any of the Dark Soldiers could catch up with them.

Of course, if Jack and Grohm weren’t back before them, that would
be
their
problem, not his.

However, what
was
his problem were the two full
squads of jetpacked Deathlords that suddenly appeared from the lip of the
mothership, effectively cutting off his escape route and charging toward him,
guns blazing.

“Blast it!” Scallywag growled as he turned the hovercraft
sharply, avoiding the angry red plasma fire that streaked toward them.  As he
made his maneuver, he glanced around, looking for another way to escape.  The
mothership loomed over them ominously, a sickly white glow pulsing from its
center, giving Scallywag flashbacks to the pillar at the core of the Pit. 
Twelve Deathlords were on their tail, and the hovercraft didn’t offer much in
the way of cover from those blasters.  If it came down to a straight up chase,
he and the Professor were dangerously exposed.  All in all, Scallywag did not
like his options.

In fact, he liked them even less when he saw more Dark Soldiers
drop from the hanger bay he’d just exited, their jetpacks roaring to life the
second they saw their prey.  One of them, with the bandaged head, threw a ball
of energy at them almost immediately.

Scallywag turned the hovercraft and barely missed getting
hit by the ball of death that screamed by.  Green stumbled from the sharp
maneuver and collapsed, grabbing onto the rail of the hovercraft and holding on
tightly.

“Oh dear, oh dear,” he muttered like a scared little mouse.

Scallywag gritted his teeth as he punched up the
acceleration of the hovercraft and turned away from their new arrivals.  The
original squads of Dark Soldiers kept firing behind them, and there was no sign
they were going to let up anytime soon.  Finally, Scallywag had an idea, though
he didn’t like it anymore than he was sure the Professor would.

“Hold on tight, Trundle,” said Scallywag.  He glanced down
at the scaly, flat-headed alien whose large eyes stared up at him, wide and
fearful.  “This ain’t gonna be pleasant.”

No sooner had Green wrapped his arms as tightly as he could
around the hovercraft’s railings than Scallywag pointed the ship downward,
hitting the acceleration as much as he was able.  Even bracing against the
control panel of the craft as tightly as he could, it was all Scallywag could
do to keep from floating away as the hovercraft shot down into the massive
tunnel below them.

Scallywag could feel the sickening sensation of his stomach
being left behind as they rocketed downward.  Somewhere in the distance, he
heard one of the Deathlords scream something along the lines of, “Follow them!”