This is it. The battle to end all battles. And finally, he has the upper hand.

He moves swiftly through the corridors, stepping over the bodies that litter the floor with an ease that can only come with practice. He’s had this battle many times before— but this time, he was certain that he was going to win– for sure.

He readies his weapon, hands steady and breathing even as he turns a corner, quickly searching for any signs of life and then continuing on when he spots none. The enemy is around here somewhere; he can feel her watching him, and it makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. When a shiver crawls down his spine, it’s not just because of the air temperature of the space station.

He hears a noise kitty corner to his position, and he swivels around to confront it. There’s no sign of movement, not even a swaying leaf on the geometric bushes, but he doesn’t let his guard down for even a second. He knows he’s being hunted, and if he doesn’t kill first, he’s going to end up dead just like the rest.

He spends too long scanning– it was an obvious trap and he should have known better, but his hubris is always his downfall, and he tenses at the feel of something sharp pressed to the base of his skull.

Jack drops his hands in defeat, fingers unfolding from their gun position and cursing under his breath.
     “Alright– ya got me.”