by Tom Dublin
They'd been so close to saving Taron City.
The surge in gravity was worse this time. Zeb Lok's vision began to fade, diamonds of blackness seeping in from the sides as his consciousness slowly slipped away.
He battled to keep his eyes open with every ounce of strength he had left in him, knowing that once he finally closed them, they would never open again.
There was a sudden shout of anger as Tc'aarlat lost his fight with the caving roof. Slumping down in his seat to stay lower than the bulging metal, he scrambled for his Jean Dukes Special.
He worked as hard as he could against the steadily increasing force of gravity, he turned the barrel towards the noisily collapsing roof, spun the weapon's dial to 11, and fired.
Alma Nine, Taron City, Weather Control Center, Main Entrance
The first surge in gravity knocked almost every single one of the fleeing Malatians to the ground.
They screamed, yelled and cried as the combined fear of the freshly arrived storm and the furious werewolf finally found a voice.
A building further along the street began to crumble to the ground. The people dragging themselves away from its entrance on their bellies disappearing beneath the mountain of falling brickwork.
The wolf began to prowl first in one direction, then another. Its paws slipped on the wet ground as the gravity pressed down upon the confused animal. Whatever was causing this feeling of weight upon its body, it was only serving to make it angrier by the second.
Finally, the creature's piercing yellow eyes fixed on one of the fleeing figures as it dragged itself away from the snarling beast. It was a man, his long, silver hair lank and wet from the recent rain, his left foot jutting at an awkward angle, his ankle having shattered when the blast of gravity had struck..
He glanced over his shoulder, saw the wolf slowly stalking after him, and redoubled his efforts to drag himself to safety.
Others quickly realized he was the focus of the werewolf's rage and battled to pull their bodies away from him, leaving the target alone and very, very afraid.
"ADINA!"
Just a few feet from its first victim, the werewolf stopped and turned, something about the name called that seemed to spark a slight flicker of recognition deep within the animal's brain.
Slowly, painfully, the Were turned to see who had shouted the name.
Ahead, Jack lay on the ground, flattened by the surge in gravity like everyone else. His eyes gazed at the wolf, pleadingly.
"ADINA!" he yelled again. "Don't do this! Please!"
Snarling, the wolf began to approach Jack, its muscles burning as they continued to fight the incredible pressure weighing down upon its body.
Something about him seemed to attract the wolf. Something the creature couldn't understand, and had no way at all of explaining.
"That's it, Adina," groaned Jack, his own consciousness beginning to slowly drift away. "Don't be scared. It's only me."
The werewolf sniffed at the air. It could still smell the overwhelming scent of fear flooding the city, but now there was something else. Another scent, more subtle, but much sharper.
A scent that signaled danger.
The werewolf stopped dead as it spotted the barrel of a gun sliding out from beneath Jack's prone figure and taking aim in its direction, a high-pitched whistle rising in tone as the weapon quickly charged.
There was a whumph!
Then everything went black.
28
ICS Fortitude, Adina's Cabin
"I think she's coming round."
"Well, she'd better wake up soon, or I'm going alone. I'm not missing the opportunity to show off this fine, fine cape!"
"You still think that thing suits you?"
"You know what they say, Jack - beauty is in the eye of the bee folder."
"Beholder you dipshit!"
"Really?"
"Yes! Who do you think's going round folding bees?!"
"I did wonder about that bit..."
Adina forced her eyes open, gazing up at the two blurry figures dressed in purple standing beside her bunk.
"Can you two take the comedy routine somewhere else?" she grunted.
"You're back!" exclaimed Tc'aarlat.
SKAAARK! cried the purple blob balanced on the Yollin's shoulder. Adina squinted, bringing Mist and her recolored feathers back into focus.
"How do you feel?" asked Jack.
"Like there's a herd of bistok thundering through my head," replied Adina. She tried to sit up, winced in pain, then slumped back. "What the fuck happened?"
"Jack shot you," said Tc'aarlat flatly.
This time Adina did sit up.
"You did what?!"
"It was set on stun," Jack explained, "and I didn't have much of a choice, to be honest. It was either that, or be torn apart by a werewolf."
Adina groaned, resting back against her pillows again.
"When were you going to tell us about that?"
Adina rubbed her hand across her eyes. "Ideally, never," she admitted. "I haven't fully transformed since I was a teenager. I take pills to dampen those strings in my DNA and stop it from happening."
"They don't work," Tc'aarlat pointed out.
"Hang on," said Adina, frowning in the Yollin's direction. "You weren't even there. You and Zeb Lok went up in The Pegasus, and..."
She sat up quickly.
"The storm!"
"We stopped it," beamed Tc'aarlat. "Although, it wasn't all good news. I made it out alive, but..." His eyes brimmed with tears. "So twisted and broken, I've never seen so much damage!"
Adina sighed. "Zeb Lok didn't make it?"
"Oh, he's fine," replied Tc'aarlat, blowing his nose with the corner of his cape. "I was talking about The Pegasus. She's utterly destroyed."
"We're hoping Nathan will see fit to provide us with a replacement when we get back," said Jack.
"So, the knife worked?" asked Adina. "Vix Mil's DNA, I mean?"
Tc'aarlat nodded. "I had to blast a hole in the ship's roof and carry Zeb Lok over so he could slide the knife into the scanner, but yeah. It unlocked the program, and he was able to cancel it."
"The Malatian's have spent the last 24 hours clearing up in preparation for Tor Val's funeral," added Nathan.
"24 hours?" cried Adina, swinging her legs off the bed. "How long have I been out?"
"Thirty-five hours and seventeen minutes," announced Solo through the cabin's speaker. "Would you like me to pause the timer now Adina has regained consciousness, Captain Marber?"
Jack smiled. "Yes, thank you, Solo."
"You're welcome, Captain. And I'd like to take this opportunity to remind you that the late president's Journey Back service begins in around ninety minutes' time."
Adina spotted her purple dress hanging on the back of the cabin door. "Then I'd better get changed," she said, standing up and taking a moment to test that she was in full control of her balance.
She was.
"Right you two - out!"
Ushering Tc'aarlat and Jack out of the cramped quarters, Adina closed the door and rested against it, taking a deep breath.
Reaching over to the small drawer beside her washbasin, she pulled it open and retrieved the washcloth from inside.
Beneath the cloth was the bag of black pills, each with a single yellow dot stamped onto one side.
She reached out tentatively towards the medication...
Alma Nine, Taron City, Central Park
Flags of navy blue and lemon fluttered everywhere.
Tens of thousands of people, all dressed in the official Malatian color of mourning, lined the rapidly cleared streets of the city, hemmed in behind miles of barriers delivered by the ICS Fortitude.
They bowed their heads in contemplative silence as Tor Val's coffin was driven along the route of the funeral procession, many tossing flowers behind the hearse as it passed.
Walking behind the hearse were three figures - Bay Don, and the president's two daughters, Mas Val and Ran Val
.
Jack, Tc'aarlat, Mist and Adina were among the dignitaries from other worlds gathered in the park, quietly waiting for Tor Val's body to arrive.
As was the tradition, she was encased inside an organic casket which, following the ceremony, would be blasted into space where it would explode, returning Tor Val's constituent elements to the universe among the gas fields of the Ordon Nebula.
Only, in a change to convention, Tor Val would not be alone.
Already arranged in rows upon the grass were over 120 caskets containing the bodies of everyone who had died in the recent gravity storms. Among them, both Vix Mil and her husband, Yan Mil.
Saf Tah, in a rare show of compassion, had pardoned Yan Mil of his actions in creating the storms, declaring him to be not guilty by reason of insanity following his wife's homicide.
Investigations were now ongoing to locate the individual behind Vix Mil's murder, with investigators due to question Hen Wic in his prison cell the next day.
New safeguards had been programmed into the weather control system by the new department head, Zeb Lok. He and his assistants had worked tirelessly to reset the trillions of nanobots required to ensure today's weather resembled a perfect, sunny Fall day; crisp, but not too hot.
That didn't stop Tc'aarlat from clutching his cloak around his body and shivering. "Why the fuck have nanobots that control the weather if you’re not going to make the entire planet a tropical paradise every day?" he hissed.
Jack and Adina, both wearing coats over their purple mourning attire, shared a sly grin.
"You could have worn something over - or even, under - your cape," Adina suggested. "You didn't have to turn up as though you were some sort of beach-ready gladiator."
“Currrr!" trilled Mist in agreement.
Tc'aarlat snarled up at her. "Don't you start, as well!"
The park fell silent as Tor Val's casket arrived, carried from its hearse by junior members of her government. They laid it at the end of the final line of caskets, only the dark blue and yellow flag covering it differentiating it from any of the others.
The funeral service itself was short, but heart-rending.
Mas Val stepped up to a podium to give a pre-prepared yet impassioned speech about her mother and everything she had done for the colonists of Alma Nine. Her sister Ran Val stood, quietly sobbing, at her side.
From a specially built gantry, Cal Car and a Channel Three News camera operator listened to the speeches in deferential silence, the newscaster occasionally jotting down a few words of notes in readiness for his next piece to broadcast.
All across the city, people watched the proceedings on huge view screens set up purposefully erected for the day.
Jack kept a close watch on Saf Tah, fidgeting as he eyed the podium eagerly. Beside him, his one remaining aide stood rod straight, clearly moved by the sentiment of Mas Val's words.
When the time for talking was over, each casket in turn had its inbuilt thruster activated, then it was gently lowered into what looked like a large skyward pointing cannon.
The name of the deceased individual was read out, the entire gathering bowed their heads, then the casket was launched into the atmosphere with a thundering BOOM!
Taron City remained under a blanket of silence as the occupant of each of the caskets was shown as much respect as all the others, before being fired into the clear, blue sky.
Finally, only Tor Val's casket remained. Together Bay Don, Mas Val and Ran Mal helped government officers to carry their mother's body to the machine. A uniformed cadet removed the flag, folded it and handed it to Mas Val as the casket was loaded inside.
Then, BOOM!
Everyone watched as the final casket rocketed up into the sky, growing smaller and smaller by the second.
Tor Val had left Alma Nine forever.
A small group of mourners in the street outside the park gates began to applaud. The sound seemed strange and out of place at first but, as the applause spread along the street and out across the city, it took on a sense of warmth and joy.
Soon, everyone in Taron City - and probably those living in the small towns and farms beyond - were clapping together. Showing their love and appreciation for everyone who had lost their lives over the past few days.
One man wasn't clapping, however. Saf Tah straightened up at the sound, believing the applause to be happening to signal his turn to stand at the podium and swear himself in as the new president.
Grabbing Jus Clo by the arm, he marched towards the microphone, surreptitiously flicking a switch on a battery operated gadget in his pocket that changed the string of LED lights threaded through his hair from the respectful purple color of mourning, to his bright political hues of red and green.
He stopped just short of the podium and pushed Jus Clo forward.
"What?" queried the bemused assistant. Everyone in the park turned to study the pair as the sensitive microphone picked up both men's voices.
"I'm the new president, fuck for brains!" Saf Tah spat. "Pull your head out of your ass and go introduce me!"
A mumble of dissatisfaction swept across the gathered crowds.
Jus Clo took a moment to compose himself, then he stepped up to the microphone, and said nothing.
For a full minute.
"What the fuck are you waiting for?!" Saf Tah hissed. "These people are waiting to get to know their new president!"
A flicker of a smile crossed Jus Clo's lips. Nodding, he reached into his pocket and produced his personal communicator, tapping on the screen to locate the file he needed.
Saf Tah took the opportunity to run his fingers through the tips of his hair, pleased that his idiot aide had finally done something right in preparing an introduction to read on this important occasion.
But Jus Clo wasn't looking through his communicator for a speech. Instead, he found a voice recording, hit play and held the gizmo up to the microphone in order to amplify the words coming from the tiny speaker...
"Tomorrow, the blood of our enemies shall rain down from the heavens!"
Jack's head snapped up. He stared over at Jus Clo. "That was Saf Tah's voice!" he growled, setting off at a run. Tc'aarlat and Adina were quickly on his heels.
Saf Tah looked up in terror at the sight of the dignitaries from the Etheric Federation racing across the park towards him.
Meanwhile, at the podium, Jus Clo was playing the audio clip over and over. Angry voices rose up among the crowds as they recognized the vice-president's words as the motto of the galaxy's worst most hated and feared terrorist organization, Dark Tomorrow.
"Breaking news here at Taron City's central park..." thundered Cal Car down the lens of the Channel Three News camera.
"No! Wait a second!" Saf Tah pleaded, backing away, hands raised as Jack, Tc'aarlat and Adina reached him. "You don't understand..."
"I understand perfectly!" roared Jack, swinging out his fist and punching Saf Tah hard in the face.
The vice president fell backwards, clutching at his blood-soaked nose.
"You're a pissing terrorist sympathizer," Jack continued, drawing his Jean Dukes Special. "And you are SO fucking under arrest!"
Tc'aarlat and Adina joined Jack to stand over the trembling, sobbing politician, also with their weapons trained on the prostrate figure.
"What shall we do with him?" demanded Adina.
"Take him back to Base Station 11 and hand him over to Ricky Smith," said Jack, noticing with some satisfaction that Saf Tah's horrified expression betrayed the fact that the Ranger’s reputation had clearly reached this section of the galaxy.
"Come on, you sack of shit," spat Tc'aarlat, reaching down. "Time to get up. We're taking you for a little ride."
"Excuse me," said Jus Clo, stepping down from the podium. "Just before you take him away. May I...?"
Jack stepped back, allowing the political aide access to his former boss. "Be my guest..."
Snarling, Jus Clo took a short run up, then kicked Saf Tah as hard as he possible i
n the groin.
Thanks to the relatively close proximity of the microphone, this time Saf Tah's scream was heard all across Taron City.
ICS Fortitude, Bridge
"Please fasten your safety belts in preparation for take-off."
Flicking a frustrated glance up at Solo's avatar on the front view screen, Jack muttered unhappily under his breath as he clicked his seatbelt in place.
"I promise I'll check her just as soon as I get the chance," Adina whispered once she secured her own safety belt.
"Saf Tah”s locked away securely for the trip!" announced Tc'aarlat as he stepped onto the bridge and made for his seat.
Mist, perched on the top right camera, let out a squawww and flapped her now-red-again feathers to fly down and land on his shoulder.
"Where did you put him?" asked Adina.
"In that rear hangar now that it's empty," the Yollin replied.
"Where your precious Pegasus usually goes?" question Jack with a smile.
"I don't want to talk about it!" Tc'aarlat declared as he sat down.
Adina also smiled. "But, you are going to carry on wearing the cape?"
Jack tried to hold back a snort of laughter, but failed.
"You two just don't understand," said Tc'aarlat, smoothing down the soft, purple cloth as it draped over his shoulders. "It's called style."
Before either Jack or Adina could argue, Solo's face reappeared on screen. "You have an incoming video call from the president of Alma Nine."
Jack looked to his crew mates before replying. "Put it on screen."
Solo faded away to be replaced by Mas Val. She was sitting at the desk in the inner presidential office, dressed in navy blue and lemon. Both Bay Don and her younger sister, Ran Val, were with her.
"Greetings, Madam President," said Jack. "How are you settling in?"
"It's a little overwhelming," Mas Val admitted, "but I grew up with both my mom and dad doing this job, so I know many of my decisions will be guided by how I saw them take on this huge task. Plus, I'll have Bay Don by my side. She’s already had Hip Win arrested for his role in the assassination. He’ll stand trial very soon."
"Hey, don’t forget me!" exclaimed Ran Val. “I can help, too.”