Jack Strong and The Last Battle

by Heys Wolfenden

  “So, this is it? The end.”

  Xylem spun around. Before him was a mountain of lava and ash, eyes burning a furious red. The air stank of smoke and Sulphur.

  “Who are you?” hissed Xylem.

  “Your executioner.”

  Xylem nodded, looked around. “Where are the Ba’doberansss?”

  “Where do you think?”

  “Why?”

  “Why not?” said the man. Those eyes… “You interfered with our plans once and this is your price.”

  “Your plansss?” hissed Xylem. “What are you talking about?”

  “We are the Scourge; we made you an offer of an alliance once and you refused it, tried to claim the universe for yourself. This is the price for your treachery; the destruction of your homeworld was just the start.”

  “Ssso, it was you who detonated the black hole bomb?” Xylem’s voice sounded like wind escaping from a cave. “Billionsss died in that attack, trillionsss even.”

  “Not nearly enough is it?” smirked the man with the smoldering eyes. “If it makes you feel any better you will be joining them. Soon.”

  Xylem swung at the man’s face with all his might, only for it to melt away on impact. Pain stung, seared. Xylem grasped what was left of his arm and collapsed to one knee.

  The man looked around at the Xenti horde. The euphoria of battle had died down, replaced with a grim expectancy.

  “But it’sss torture,” garbled Xylem, collapsing down to his haunches.

  “That’s the point,” said the man through fire-obscured eyes. “And through your pain and suffering, other systems, races will be less likely to rebel and spread their malcontent. We have recorded what we’ve done here and dispersed it all around the galaxy; the lesson will be salutary.”

  Xylem chuckled to himself. It sounded like boulders rolling down a mountainside. “Ssso I won’t die in vain?”

  Xylem leapt to his feet and in one fluid movement picked-up his sword with his one good hand and swung it at the lava man’s head.

  Steel passed through ash, pumice, separating the lava man’s neck from his shoulders. Magma hissed, sizzled, spouting into the air like a volcanic eruption.

  The crowd erupted, cheered as the lava man’s corpse teetered to the ground like a dynamited chimney stack.

  Xylem turned around at once to check on Grunt. He was slumped in a puddle of blood the size of a small island, chest pumping away. Xylem grabbed him by the shoulders and checked his pulse. Weak and getting weaker. The crowd had gone silent again, like mourners at a graveyard. “Grunt, wake up. You sssaved me, sssaved all of us…”

  “Do you think any mere blade can kill ME? I am a dark soul cast of dark matter and I will have my vengeance.”

  Xylem was about to go for the shattered remnants of his sword when the crowd began to scream, stampeding left and right. There were some figures in amongst them, faces made of metal, with glowing eyes. He heard weapons’ fire, ordnance exploding in amongst the packed stanchions. More screaming, more shouting. Death. Death. Death. Xenti were being trampled in their hundreds, thousands. Blood flowed like a river.

  Xylem rushed towards the lava man, his sword slipping from his grasp as his hands melted away into nothing.

  Xylem looked at his mangled arms. Then at the indifferent sky. He saw what looked like a comet speeding towards him, its blue tail dissecting a flotilla of clouds. No, not a comet, a boy – a boy in a blue spacesuit.

  Chapter Seventeen: Payback

  Jack thumped into the blood-drenched sand, knocking Xylem off his feet.

  He looked straight at the lava man and regarded his cold lifeless stare, his serial killer mouth and the ash that puffed from his body like a witch being burnt at the stake. He thought for a second that it might have been him – the one who had detonated the black hole bomb that had destroyed Nevada – the one who had killed his parents - the one who had disguised himself for a whole year as Jorge… but no, he was back on their spaceship, with her…

  “Well if it isn’t Jack Strong, nemesis of the Scourge, patron-saint of hopeless causes.”

  “You know my name?”

  “Of course,” said the lava man, scanning the carnage around him, the carnage that was still unfolding. “We all do. You’re famous in these parts, but there’s just one problem.”

  “Oh yeah, what’s that?”

  “You’re supposed to be dead.”

  “Well as you can see, I’m very much alive,” said Jack, trying his best to force a smile.

  “I don’t think so,” said the lava man, eyes burning with renewed hate. “I saw the video-feed myself, you were cast into a black hole. I saw your spacecraft crumple, burn up, disintegrate; we all did.”

  “Must have been a different spaceship,” said Jack, trying to be evasive. “Maybe you made a mistake.”

  “There’s no use playing for time, you can’t stop this,” said the lava man, looking around at the gore-filled arena. “You’re too late, besides you’re underprepared and outgunned. I’ll turn you into a dreadnut myself. I want to watch you bleed, suffer; you will do penance for your disobedience.”

  Jack smiled.

  “You think this is funny?”

  “How are you going to turn me into a dreadnut if there aren’t any left?”

  Something large and silver glimmered in the sky above them. Blue jets of fire shot out from its nose and flanks, slamming into the arena. Bodies erupted, consumed by flames; metal warped and melted, turned to slag.

  The screaming stopped, the killing ceased. Xenti everywhere stood and stared.

  “That’s impossible,” said the lava man, seeing the last of the dreadnuts turned to ash. “There’s only one Galactic alliance cruiser left, and it’s at Earth.”

  Jack shook his head like a headmaster telling-off a badly-behaved pupil. “You need to update your inventories. As long as there is the main spaceship then there are legion; they can be mass-produced at will. I made this one for Grunt months ago; if you had spent more time studying the Alliance’s ship rather than just using it to destroy whole worlds you may have become privy to that fact.”

  “Why are you telling me all this?”

  “Because you’re not leaving this arena alive.”

  In one fluid movement Jack recalled his space pistol, raised his arm and fired point blank at the lava man’s head. His head exploded, coating the arena in a layer of liquid ash.

  Jack looked on as the hole in the lava man’s head re-formed in seconds.

  “You think you can kill me with that?” said the lava man, looking dismissively at his pistol.

  “No,” said Jack, stroking the hot pistol in between his fingertips. “I just wanted to get some practice in; it’s been a long time.” Light as a feather, as heavy as a mountain. “Besides, I can make-do with this,” he said, a six-foot-long sword appearing in his hands. It glinted menacingly in the afternoon sunlight, its razor-sharp edges rippling with electricity.

  “Fool,” said the lava man. “Swords can’t kill me. Nothing can. I am a GOD!”

  “Is that a fact?” said Jack, remembering the Alliance’s parting gift.

  “How can I beat them?” asked Jack as he looked out of the black hole, across space and time. “We’ve barely been able to hold them back so far; we’ve lost every battle.”

  “With that,” said the Brad Pitt lookalike. He was staring at Grunt’s invisible spaceship. The one he had used to get to the planet in the first place.

  “But how? Not even the main spaceship can land a blow on the Scourge; they are indestructible, this is useless. Not even you could beat them!”

  “That depends on your point of view.”

  “No, it doesn’t. You’re here and they’re not. They won. Face it.”

  “They won the last battle, yes, and maybe even the entire war.”

  “Then what are you talking about?”

  “Your spaceship. It was our last hope, our greatest technological advance. All we needed was a crew, but the decision to ev
acuate had already been taken.”

  “So, you chose us?” said Jack.

  “Yes. It made sense at the time. Your worlds were to be considered as new entrants into the Galactic Alliance, so it was a natural step, if a little premature.”

  “But we were kids, in many ways we still are.”

  “Do you feel like a child?”

  Jack shook his head. He had seen too much, done too much. So many deaths…

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “But how can we beat them?” asked Jack. “We’ve tried everything.”

  “You haven’t even touched the surface of what your spaceship can do, perhaps you never will.”

  “Doesn’t feel like it.”

  “Have faith Jack.”

  “Faith isn’t going to help us win this war – men, numbers, strategy and an unrivalled technological advantage are, and if we don’t have those then we are doomed and so is the rest of the universe.”

  “He’s right.”

  Jack turned around. It was the black-haired woman from earlier. The one from that TV program he’d seen as a kid. Stars shone around her head.

  “But the council’s rules on this matter are quite explicit,” said the Brad Pitt lookalike. “No third-party interventions are allowed; we stand apart. It’s their universe now, whether it thrives in summer or dies in winter.”

  “Yes, it is their universe, but this is OURS and that makes all the difference; those rules don’t apply here.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Giving him a fighting chance,” said the woman, grasping Jack’s temples in between her milk-white palms.

  Jack’s head rushed with electricity, sensation. Thoughts and feelings swirled around his head like a whirlpool. “What have you done?” he asked, gasping for breath.

  “What we should have done a long time ago but couldn’t. The gift of knowledge. Of what your subconscious knew, but your conscious-self did not. May it unlock many doors in this world and the next.”

  Jack’s sword fizzed through the air like a lightning bolt, the blade lodging firmly in the lava man’s chest. It was like cutting through butter, what looked like molten metal pouring out of the wound. The lava man’s hands grasped desperately for Jack’s sword, but it was too late, he disintegrated before his eyes, forming what looked like a pool of oil in the sand.

  “Is he dead?” hissed a voice behind him.

  “Yes Xylem, he is.”

  “But how?”

  “I had a little help from some friends,” he said, looking up at a perfectly blue sky. “A nudge in the right direction.”

  “Sssome nudge,” said another Xenti getting to his feet.

  Jack smiled. “It doesn’t matter now anyway; I created the space sword a few months ago. I don’t remember why now. I guess I thought it would be cool carrying a sword around with me. Turns out I’d subconsciously configured it to destroy dark matter. Shame I didn’t find out earlier,” he said, thinking of Jorge/Lava man. What he did to Vyleria…

  “Now what?” hissed the Xenti.

  “Now we turn you back Grunt,” said Jack.

  “How do you know it’sss me?” he hissed.

  “I’d recognise you anywhere, mask or not.”

  “It’sss no masssk,” said Grunt. He sounded mournful, apologetic. “They turned me into a Xenti, after I…”

  “No, it really is,” said Jack, putting his hand around his shoulders. The spacecraft appeared over their heads, the arena reflected in its undercarriage. “Come on let’s get you to the med bay. You too Xylem.”

  “Me?”

  “Of course,” said Jack. “You were on the spaceship for a reason, the Galactic Alliance saw something in you and your people and now I think I do too.”

  “Which is?” said Grunt.

  “They come together in times of adversity,” said Jack, looking around at the arena. So much blood. So much death. “And they always keep on fighting against impossible odds. Isn’t that right Xylem?”

  Xylem nodded.

  “How many times did you die out here anyway?”

  “I ssstopped counting at a hundred,” hissed Xylem. “Sssome of the others sssuffered worssse.”

  “Yes, I saw,” said Grunt, remembering the Xenti champions who had been dismembered and eaten by the lava man.

  “I could use an army like yours,” said Jack, “an army of fighters, warriors who will never give up, no matter what’s thrown against them.”

  “But Jack, where are you going to put them all?” said Grunt, looking up at the spaceship. “It’s barely big enough for us as it is.”

  “Oh yeah,” said Jack, “look again.”

  Grunt followed Jack’s gaze. Above them was a spaceship almost as big as the arena itself, a flotilla of clouds shining through its transparent skin. “But how?”

  “I learnt a lot whilst I was away,” said Jack with a smile as large as the spaceship itself. “Now come on, let’s finish putting the band back together; it’s been too long as it is.”

  Chapter Eighteen: Judgement Day

  Pain ricocheted around Padget’s body like a bullet. Blood puddled in his hands and across a large portion of the floor. His vision was blurry, and his throat felt as dry as the desert. He tried to get up but collapsed. He felt weak, nauseous. He heard laughter off to his right, turned to where it came from.

  “Having some trouble little brother?” said a scrawny-looking figure with green skin and orange hair. He was still gripping the knife… no, the murder weapon.

  Padget didn’t want to give him the benefit of looking weak, but a long, pronounced cry left his chest all the same. So much for Padget the action hero, the slayer of the Scourge, he couldn’t even outwit his own brother.

  He looked up again at Egbert. He had a maniacal gleam to his eye. In no time at all he had stepped through the emerald green lake and gripped Padget by the shoulder. His hand arced up into the air, the bloody knife glinting in the late afternoon sun.

  This is it, he thought. The End… I’m sorry I failed you Jack. I hope it doesn’t hurt too much. He closed his eyes.

  “When I first saw you, I thought you were Scourge,” said a voice.

  Padget opened his eyes and turned around.

  “Who are you?” said Egbert, knife twisting towards the newcomer. “How did you get into the palace?”

  “That’s not important right now,” said the boy. “What matters is what you do in the next few seconds. Step away from my friend. Slowly.”

  Padget could scarcely believe what he was hearing, seeing. He was hallucinating, had to be.

  Egbert grinned. “I’ll give you the same offer,” he said. “Retreat or die. Your choice.”

  Jack smiled. “Always with the cruel and dramatic epithets. That’s why I thought you were one of them. You are so unlike Padget and the rest of the Paldovians, even his father. But now I know that you are just a special kind of mean. I’ll give you one chance and one chance only. Surrender or be destroyed.”

  Egbert laughed. Wildly and without pity. “Do you know who I am?” he howled. “Do you know what I am capable of? Down here I am a God! Nobody can tell me what to do, NOBODY!”

  “Funny, someone else said that recently. I convinced him otherwise. Last chance.”

  Egbert shook his head, then pushed a button on his wrist. An alarm began to wail, violently and without pause. In seconds several squads of soldier-bots rushed into the room, gears of war clunking loudly. They surrounded Jack at once, weapons primed. He’s dead now…

  “Decision made,” said his friend chuckling to the ceiling.

  Padget wanted to yell at his friend, to tell him to run away, to get out of there, to save himself, but he couldn’t. All he could do was whimper quietly to himself. Not long now, he thought, looking at the green tide that was still gushing from his side.

  “You’re going to die laughing!” screeched Egbert. “What a fool! What a fool!”

  “No, you are. Now Xylem.”

  The air behin
d the soldier-bots shimmered with electricity as a squad of Xenti soldiers appeared out of nowhere. Padget only realised they had started firing when the first soldier-bot was flung across the room in a shower of smoke and sparks. Then he saw the laser flashes and heard the rat-a-tat-tat of explosions. The soldier-bots were turned into scrap metal in less than a second. They hadn’t even gotten one shot off.

  “Told you,” said Jack to a figure on the floor. Egbert… There was a large hole where his stomach had been, blood was everywhere, the air stank of blood and smoke. “But I was only half-serious. There’s still a chance for you. If you surrender control of your planet back to Padget I can arrange suitable medical facilities for you. I know your wound looks bad now, but our med lab is the most advanced in the universe, we can heal you in nano-seconds.”

  Egbert’s lips moved but no sound came out. “What is he saying?” asked Jack.

  Suddenly there was a gleam of silver, then the squishing sound of metal on flesh, followed by the soft hiss of blood. A green tide gushed from Egbert’s throat, his head flopping lifelessly onto his chest.

  “Fool,” said Jack standing over him.

  “And a coward,” hissed a figure next to him. “There’sss alwaysss another battle to fight.”

  “Jack!” screeched Padget, with a vigour he didn’t know he possessed. “It’s Xylem and the Xenti, they’ve come to kill us.”

  Jack kneeled before him. “No Padget, my friend; they’ve come to save us. They’re with us now, perhaps they always were in a way. Come on, let’s get you to the med-bay, we’ve got a couple more stops left yet. I only hope we aren’t too late.”

  “Please. No. Not that again.”

  “Shh,” said the extractor, his pea-green face more sickly-looking than normal. His hands were stroking the inside of Kat’s thighs. They felt like little slimy eels. “Your invisibility is not yours to possess, it’s ours, every skav knows that.” He looked down upon her beneficently, but his eyes were like ice. Like a serial killer’s, thought Kat.