Update (09/05/2018): It's here. This story has now been completely revised and re-uploaded. Phew, that took a lot longer than I expected. I must have been at it for about 2 years now. But I think it was worth it. It needed updating anyway to bring it up to speed with my current writing ability (I wrote the original when I was 16-18!), and to line up with my other stories. It has had its errors and inconsistencies corrected, plot holes filled, quality boosted, chapters restructured, and even some entirely new content added! Readers should find it much more exciting now, and overall much better, than the original version. There are some little things I may still decide to change, such as the best ordering of the chapters, but nothing serious, and as they stand at the moment the chapters are in a configuration that works. My greatest thanks to everyone who has been waiting patiently for this. Now to get cracking on improving my second story, which I hope will not take as long as this one did. Until then, enjoy!

Update (11/10/2019): All chapters have been given a slight revision in response to feedback to improve weaknesses in the story. There is also a new bonus chapter which I felt was important. Thanks and enjoy.

The spider settled itself under the shadows of a leaf, hidden from the fading sunlight. A quivering flower petal lay before it, coated with a fine misty layer of deadly silk, almost invisible to all but the keenest of eyes. Though the spider had eight, its vision was poor, and the world was only a cloudy blur of lights and shadows to it. But it did not need acuity of vision, for it could feel even the faintest vibrations through its eight sensitive legs.

A tiny touch upon the leaf, and it knew at once that something had landed very close by. A small bee had been drawn in by the fragrant scent of the flower, and it went crawling around on the leaf surface in search of the prize. The moment the spider had been waiting for had arrived, but it remained where it was, still as a stone, feeling every little movement and knowing the exact position of its prey.

The bee, feeling surer of its destination, lowered its defences and approached the flower. As soon as it set its legs down upon the rim of the first petal, they stuck fast. The spider felt the vibrations immediately and knew that its trap had sprung. Before the bee even had time to register its predicament, the spider struck, quick as lightning, lurching forwards from its hiding place, catching the bee with its two front legs, and pressing its whole body into the webbing.

The bee tried to flutter its wings in a getaway, but it was no use. In less than a second it had become completely immobilised and helpless in the strong clutches of its hunter. The spider mounted it and drew in more of the webbing from the petal with its other legs, embalming the struggling bee in a thick cocoon of wet silk, and fastening it all in place with fresh secretions of adhesive fluid from its spinneret. It whisked the bundle back under the leaf, and sat upon it as the bee squirmed inside and slowly suffocated, until there was no more movement. The spider was victorious. It had claimed another meal for itself, and remained the unchallenged predator in its small woodland home.

But then a noise came from above the canopy. It began quietly at first, but grew louder and louder, until it the ambient peace was destroyed and the branches and leaves were trembling at the force of the gale that accompanied it. The spider kept a tight grip on its catch as the world around it was buffeted uncontrollably, until with one great movement of the air, its leaf was overturned and both predator and prey were thrown down to the earthen floor below.

Overhead passed a great fleet of aircraft, each one painted cobalt blue, and emblazoned with the insignia of the Freedom League: two crossed swords beneath a silver shield and yellow sash. Piloting the leading Hellcat Cruiser was Ashelin Praxis, governor of the city of Haven. She was tall, stunning to look at, and an exceptional military leader. She had fiery red hair that matched her often formidable personality, and her face was decorated with elaborate, faded blue tattoos, a grim reminder of her regrettable past in the Krimzon Guard forces of her father, the late Baron Praxis.

A tyrannical usurper, the Baron before her had controlled Haven with a strict and ruthless approach, bolstered by propaganda which concealed a risky agreement that he had exploited to stay in power. The name of Praxis still inspired fear, but Ashelin was determined to lead by a much more just example. Though a skilled fighter, who could be merciless to her enemies when she needed to be, she was also fair and benevolent, preferring diplomacy to the gun whenever possible. So far, Haven's never-ending struggles had given her little opportunity to truly prove her capabilities as a peacetime ruler, but in the two years since her father's death, she had done an admirable job of leading the citizens of Haven through the bitter conflicts of the past many months.

Flying the cruiser on her left was the austere Torn, the highest-ranking commander of the city's military force. Like Ashelin, he possessed a tactical mind beneath his dreadlocked hair, took his work very seriously, and had once served in the Krimzon Guard as well, sharing the same facial tattoos, but long ago he had deserted the forces after becoming disillusioned with their violent ways. From there he had escaped to the lowest slums of the city where no one would ever think to look for him, and became part of an underground resistance movement, intent on undermining the Baron's increasingly unstable grip on the throne. Branded a high traitor by those he used to work with, he had been atop the Baron's wanted list for a long time, but he had never been caught, thanks in part to Ashelin who had helped to shield him from her father's wrath. Even then she had not fully endorsed her father's oppressive dictatorship, and had secretly been keeping Torn's underground movement informed on Krimzon plans and movements, and together they had formed an unlikely relationship.

In the cruiser to Ashelin's right was Jak, a taciturn, light-haired, mysterious hero from a distant time, and a possessor of unrivalled fighting ability, to the point where he could pass as a one-man army. Even a team of Torn's finest soldiers could barely contend with him without getting extremely lucky or unless Jak made a rare mistake. He had arrived in Haven City almost four years ago under strange and unexpected circumstances. Almost immediately, for reasons that he still did not understand, he was captured and subjected to inhumane, torturous experiments in the Baron's cruel prison. Apparently, the Baron had aimed to create some kind of super-warrior that he could use to fight against the city's enemies, and Jak, to his own misfortune, had been selected as one of his unwilling victims. But after two long and painful years in that prison, scarred but alive and full of anger and lust for vengeance, he escaped and found his way into Torn's resistance movement, fixated on pursuing his vendetta against the Baron. Even today, some years later, he still suffered from bouts of emotional volatility, albeit with a greater restraining hand on himself than he once had. In the end, however, he played a significant role in the exposure of the Baron's tyranny and the establishment of Ashelin as the new ruler, against whom he held no grudge, and since that time he had proved his worth to the city on many a dire occasion, fighting to protect his new home and friends.

Jak rarely went anywhere without his close friend and companion, Daxter, a small and orange talking rodent. Today was no different, and he was slouched in the second seat of Jak's cruiser. Daxter's story was a strange one, for he had once been human, just like Jak, but an unfortunate accident that had occurred before he and Jak came to Haven had resulted in him being transformed into his current state for eternity. However, his wild and uninhibited personality remained unchanged; he had a big mouth that often got him into trouble, a cheeky smile that could render instant forgiveness, and a roving eye for the ladies (even though there were very few who had an eye for him in return, as he had a strong reputation for being a yappy nuisance).

But together, Ashelin, Torn and Jak were a strong and powerful team, and as of today, they were the reason there still existed a city to call home. With Ashelin's effective and decisive planning, Torn's swift and expeditious reactions, and Jak's invaluable muscle, they had saved Haven many times from the brink of destruction.

Behind their cruisers, a vast formation of military aircraft followed, loaded with enough explosive power to flatten mountains and vaporise lakes, and soon enough, that power was going to be used. As the fleet left the mainland and passed over the greyed coastline far below, Ashelin spoke into her radio and her message came across back to Haven, where it was received on a radio scanner in Freedom League Headquarters.

"Control, we are now over the ocean."

"Roger that," came the crackled reply from the city. "You'll be out of our contact range soon, so we won't know anything until you get back. But we'll be waiting for you. Good luck, governor."

"Thank you, control. We'll see you when we get back. Ashelin out."

Ashelin slotted her radio back into its place on the dashboard, and settled back into her seat for the long ride. It was a terrible mission that lay ahead of them, one that she wished she could avoid, but it was their only option left. This war had spiralled out of control and wasted so many lives needlessly, but after tonight, it would be finally over, albeit with a heavy price. Today they were to wipe their enemy from the maps with the great air force they towed along behind them. But their destination was far into the unknown, unvisited by anyone in Haven, and they were cruising straight into it with no idea of exactly what they might find there.

"Hey Ash," said Torn's gravelly voice through her radio, and she reached for it again. "What do you plan on doing once we've dropped the load and ended all this?"

"Take a long, hot bath," Ashelin replied with a weary, only faintly humorous smile. "But we should definitely start work on properly rebuilding the city soon. It's taken heavy damage all over during the war, and after everything the people have been through, I want to make sure the city will be a great and happy place to live again."

"And I suppose you want me to help with that then?" came Jak's voice. Ashelin looked to her right and saw him smirking in his boyish way through his cockpit window.

"Help if you want," said Ashelin, "But the people might think you've done enough for them already. You have no obligation to do anything more for the city than you already have, Jak." She spoke for herself more than for her people, but she truly meant it.

"Hey! What about me?" Daxter's loud and cocky voice cut in, barely before Ashelin had finished talking.

She could see the little orange character waving indignantly for attention through Jak's window. Ashelin sighed and did not reply; it was a usual ploy of Daxter's to try and claim more credit than he actually deserved, but truth be told, he had been a help in some small ways, and Ashelin recognised that. Still, she felt a bubble of good-natured camaraderie rise up inside her, and thought she would try to lighten the mood a little more at his expense.

"I was thinking of redecorating the Haven port at some point," she said to Torn, but it was heard in Jak's cruiser too. "It could do with a new look. It's so dull."

Daxter was not impressed. He had a very nice pub in that area of the city, and as far as he was concerned — quite correctly in fact — that was the one thing that attracted people there. He wanted to shout another comment into the radio, but Jak would not let him.

After a bit of petty squabbling, Daxter gave up and slumped into his seat, bored already with the endless flight. He missed his pub and his booze and his amazing pictures of himself hung on the walls, but what he missed most of all above everything else was Tess, one of the only women he had ever met who actually liked him as much as he liked her. She was an animal lover, and was looking after his pub for him while he was away on this mission with Jak. Due to recent supernatural events, she too was an ottsel like Daxter, and though unexpected, this transformation had made them both very happy, and they had started to spend more and more time together. Having each other close was part of what had helped the two of them to get through the terrible war with their sanity intact.

As Daxter slowly and sleepily sank into the world of daydreams, Jak glanced quickly out of the window to check he was still in formation with the rest of the fleet. Ashelin was still in sight to his left, and the great entourage ploughed along behind them all.

The long journey lingered on, over the wide and endless ocean as the land they called home disappeared at their backs. The leaders occasionally continued sharing their light and trivial conversations, discussing the city, the war, and what it would be like once it was all over, but soon they ran out of things to talk about. Each minute of travelling brought them closer to their target but further away from the safety of home, counting down the distance in between. Nobody in Haven's recorded history had ever ventured out this far. Ashelin often checked her computer readings; it would not make the journey go any faster, but she always liked to know exactly how far she had left to travel. Over half way there, and the formation stayed fixed. Soon, they were flying into an early evening sun, burning yellow among pink and grey clouds, with nothing but the darkness of the deep ocean below.

But then, not long after, Torn noticed something. His radar was picking up movement ahead of them. On his screen flashed three grey triangles. But then they became ten, then twenty, then forty.

"Ash, you seein' this?"

Ashelin did, and they both looked out of their front windows to try and get a visual target. They had a fairly good idea what they were, though.

"Damn sun!" said Ashelin, shielding her eyes with a hand.

The bright light they were flying into made spotting things difficult, but then Jak saw them. About two kilometres ahead and flying several hundred metres lower, a squadron of dark grey aircraft appeared in large arrow formations, glinting in the sun and coming straight for them. It was a pre-emptive enemy attack force.

"We've got company!" said Jak, raising his voice, and every pilot in the vast fleet suddenly sat up with full attention.

"What?" Daxter had just woken from his dreamy fantasies and was trying to establish what was going on.

"Strap yourself in, Dax!" Jak warned him. "They're here."

"Commander, this is bomber FL-032," came the voice from one of the aircraft behind them. "We're seeing hostile aircraft coming up underneath us. Could do with some assistance!"

"Copy that, 032, we are aware!" Torn replied. "Man your underside guns."

Ashelin gave the next order. "Squadron, break off and destroy those incoming jets! Protect the bombers at all costs; don't let them fall!"

The escort of Hellcats pitched down towards the enemy aircraft, while at the same time, they aimed up towards the bombers. The bombers themselves kept going in a steady direction, but on each of them, two turrets descended from the underside of the fuselage, each containing a brave man with a heavy machine gun. The Hellcats' roof turrets burst into action, as round after round of heavy projectiles were shot at high velocity towards the incoming jets.

The jets performed evasive actions and dodged the incoming fire, moving apart so smoothly that it would have been mesmerising to watch were one's life not in danger. But the beauty was momentary and soon descended into a mad flurry of firing and insane manoeuvres. The Hellcats were skilfully pursuing the grey jets as best as they could without carelessly flying into anyone else, but the skies were so crowded that it was only a matter of time before the first collision occurred. Try as they might, some bombers did catch fire and went down into the ocean, and the cockpits of the Hellcats filled with the screams of the dying pilots. It was a terrible thing to hear, and everyone tried their hardest to filter them out and keep their heads in the fight, doing all the more to prevent hearing it again.

Ashelin singled out a particularly troublesome jet that she had seen take down one of their bombers. She dropped in behind it and opened up a good round of fire to its tail fin, which sheared right off, sending it spiralling down, out of control, into the waiting mouth of the ocean.

Torn nearly had a collision with the jet he was pursuing when it unexpectedly pulled off an impossibly tight one-eighty turn and came straight at him. He had to pitch down very quickly to avoid a crash, and then found himself right in the middle of a cloud of smoke.

As for Jak, he was shooting down as many jets as he could possibly see. On foot or behind the controls of a vehicle, his combat prowess showed no weakness. He knew he should not be enjoying the destruction of human life like this, but the feeling he got when he caused an enemy aircraft to go down in flames was morbidly satisfying. His cabin and those of the other pilots were soon echoing with the triumphant cries of "Whoohoo! You did it, Jak!" as Daxter excitedly celebrated in his seat, punching the air with every victory. But then with a shriek he threw himself down as the cruiser started taking hits. Jak swerved and Daxter fell to the floor, but the jet followed him and continued fire.

"I can't shake him!" growled Jak through gritted teeth.

"I've got your back, Jak!" said Torn, and a round of fire suddenly tore through the pursuing jet's left wing, severing it clean off, and it went spinning away into oblivion.

"Thanks, Torn!" called Jak, levelling out the cruiser.

"You good?"

Jak checked his dashboard. "I took a few hits but I'm alright."

Daxter pulled himself back up onto his seat, trembling and his fur standing on end. "That was too close!"

But there was no time to relax. Another jet swooped in to take down another bomber, blasting the tops of the wings and shredding the ailerons. The bomber lost control and peeled off to the right and nose-dived into the water, the engines screaming in tortured overdrive.

Ashelin witnessed this murder, and in a burst of fury, mercilessly fired upon the culpable jet, right at the cockpit. The front window shattered and the interior splattered with blood, but it continued to cruise along in a slow descent, no longer under human control, until it crashed straight into one its unsuspecting comrades. Both erupted in a ball of fire and went down in six different pieces.

"Nice!" shouted Torn, who had just witnessed the whole thing.

"Thanks! Keep shooting and watch yourself!"

All the Hellcat pilots battled on bravely for many violent minutes. In that time, both sides suffered irreplaceable casualties, and the remaining ones had to increase fighting power to stay alive. Very soon, the trails of smoke and fire became indistinguishable from the blood-stained clouds around them. More jets went down all over the place, but so did a few Freedom aircraft. Ashelin couldn't possibly count how many were left, but whenever she tried to check, it looked like they were wearing thinner.

"Don't let them take down another bomber!" she shouted desperately, urging her soldiers on, "Or we might not have enough left to finish the mission!"

The Freedom pilots kept at it, losing themselves in the fury of combat. They had suffered so much at the hands of this enemy, and boy, did it feel good to deliver some payback. But when it looked as though they were finally on the verge of victory, someone shouted, "Enemy reinforcements!"

A brand new squadron of jets had just appeared from above the clouds. They dived down, weapons blazing, and caught the Freedom pilots completely by surprise. They now found themselves caught right in the middle of a closing set of jaws, jaws that would surely crush what was left of them, and hopes began to fall.

"Where the hell did they come from?" screamed Daxter, but nobody knew. None of them had ever expected to encounter this many jets out here.

Ashelin had to keep her men moralised and confident, and was speedily forming a new plan of action in her mind, but Jak had already shot forward to intercept the fresh enemies. He brought down a small cluster of them right away, but the others kept coming.

Ashelin led the charge behind him with six more Hellcats that she had quickly mobilised, and they fired right into the middle of the group, setting some on fire and lightly damaging the rest. Another mad cloud of aircraft entwined as they each battled for supremacy of the sky. Then Torn joined the fray with more backup, and things seemed to be turning in Freedom's favour once again. But suddenly, an enemy moved in on Torn, and he received a heavy blow which knocked his entire cruiser off balance. His warning alerts kicked in and his vehicle became partially unresponsive.

"I'm hit!" he shouted, hurriedly pressing buttons to keep in control.

"Torn! You're on fire!" shrieked Daxter.

These words struck Ashelin hard, and as she risked a distracted glance out of her window, she could see the roof turret of Torn's Hellcat blazing.

"My guns aren't working! I need help!" cried Torn, with rare but recognisable panic in his voice.

Ashelin reacted at once, abandoning her current fight and swooping in to offer protection. There was genuine fear in her heart for the man who had sacrificed so much of himself to her cause.

"I'm here for you, Torn!" she called as she orbited protectively around his vehicle.

But Torn did not see her. He was busy wrestling with his control panel, trying desperately to get everything working again. He was losing both speed and altitude, and behind him, the heat was growing more intense. Smoke leaked into his cockpit. "Maybe I can put this fire out," he said, reaching for a small extinguisher kept under the seat.

But then, things got worse. One of the enemy jets spotted Torn's crippled cruiser and was now making a firm beeline for him. Ashelin saw at once and turned to intercept it.

"Oh no you don't!" she screamed as she opened fire. The jet went down, but he must have informed the rest of his comrades about what he had just seen, because a number of them were also closing in on Torn now, sensing easy prey. Very soon they would swamp him, and there were too many for Ashelin to take down by herself. She panicked, and couldn't think of what she could possibly do to save Torn.

But then suddenly, Jak came screaming in from out of nowhere, guns blazing, right into the heart of the jets. They scattered, but one could not get out of the way quickly enough, and the two aircraft clashed together. The underside of Jak's cruiser smashed across the roof of the enemy jet, and sparks flew as both aircraft caught fire and rapidly lost altitude

"NO!" Ashelin cried like she had been stabbed. "Jak!"

Jak fought with the controls but he was going down fast, and nothing he did could make the cruiser right itself.

"AAAAHHHH! JAAAAAK!" screamed Daxter in a terrified panic.

"Daxter! Strap yourself in!" Jak bellowed over the noise. "We're going down!"

But Daxter either did not hear or chose to ignore him, and he was now throwing himself around the cabin, alternately looking for places to hide or a means of escape.

Ashelin's frantic voice called through Jak's radio, but it was lost among the blaring alerts in the cockpit. He had absolutely no control and was speeding towards the water head first, closer and closer with every second, and the engines were whirring into overdrive. He knew he couldn't stop it. The only thing he could do was try to pull the nose of the cruiser up so the underside would hit the water first, to minimise the chances of it completely shattering on impact.

"Hold on, Dax!" he shouted, pulling back on the steering wheel with all his strength. The nose of the cruiser began to rise up slowly, and Daxter was now randomly gibbering from somewhere under his seat.

"Come on!" screamed Jak through gritted teeth. The nose was rising higher but the water was getting closer. Now he could see the waves pulsating over the surface of the ocean, and then with a mighty explosive splash, he hit the water. The front window shattered and the cold sea pounded in. The back of the cruiser sheared off and Jak's seat collapsed. Ashelin's voice called for him again, before the controls in front of him disappeared in the torrent. All of this happened in less than a second, and it was the last thing Jak remembered before he blacked out.