'Arry switched the radio off and cackled in his own unique way, one that threw you slightly off kilter and left you anxious that anything could happen. This was one of the less worrying times.

"Well that's where we're going then," he stated.

Niall grinned and set a new course. "It's on our way anyway," he said.

Al sat quietly at the back of the room, going a little bit white. He had somehow managed to ingratiate himself to 'Arry which was good in one sense as he was much less likely to invoke his wrath – but very bad in another. Al really didn't want to get involved in any of 'Arry's hair-brained schemes, or crazy rescue attempts. Al was not the universes’ most notorious hitman. Al was a one-lesson in childhood failed karate kid. Al would definitely get himself killed.

They had just been listening to the radio again, and it had reported upon riots in the province of Gartha. Gartha was notorious for its instability. It was one of those places where rednecks ruled the roost, and protests, brawls and organised violence were regular occurrences. The emergence of Jake Spencer and the bounty on his head had caused complete mayhem in Gartha. There had been widespread kidnapping of people who looked like Jake, families and friends organising their own retribution, and deep standing feuds had spilled over because of this. The situation at the moment was that a sporadically organised army of Jake lookalikes had taken refuge in a warehouse, and a money-crazy mob of rednecks were trying to smoke them out.

'Arry was having none of it. He himself had been chased and attacked due to his slight resemblance to Jake, and he was determined to put an end to this madness. He would make that reward his own, of course, but this was another of those frequent stops he was making to rescue people who had been targeted.

As they cruised over the city, Al could see the plumes of smoke rising from one end. It was a serious fire they were talking about here, and one that had really taken hold of the building.

"We're too late..." he said, sadly. Despite being slightly relieved, he was genuinely sad. The relief and gratitude of every Jake lookalike that appeared on the ship was tangible. They were being persecuted, for no reason, and he knew exactly how they felt.

"It's never too late," laughed 'Arry, and he didn't even need to communicate with Niall to convey a command. Niall, swung the ship sharply into the plume of smoke.

"What are you doing?! We're going to crash!" shouted Al.

"Yep," said 'Arry, calmly. "Best put yer seatbelt on then hadn't you?"

He laughed again at Al's panicked look as his eyes darted around for a seatbelt that wasn't there.

He was thrown across the room by the impact of spaceship to burning warehouse.

"Come on then!" shouted 'Arry, pulling Al onto his feet. "We don't have long!"

Al groaned. He was ok, just a bit bruised and giddy. "Where are we going?"

"To look for survivors, of course," said Niall.

"Survivors? But there won't be any. You just crashed into them."

"Yeah, you might be right," said 'Arry.

"But I purposely took only the top off the building. Any one who wanted to survive the fire would be hidden down low. If I hit anyone, they were already dead," explained Niall.

Al could see some vague logic in that.

"Good job the warehouse was a bit shitty and just fell apart though, eh?"

'Arry cackled his distinctive laugh.

Al stumbled from the ship, following 'Arry and Niall closely. It was a proper mess. They had flown straight through and out of the back of the building, coming to a halt nearby. The ship was surrounded by burning wood, pieces of mangled corrugated iron which had once been the roof and all manner of items which had once been stored in the warehouse.

"Right, round up as many as you can in ten minutes, and then back to the ship," was 'Arry's order.

He marched off and Al followed him swiftly. They climbed over debris, dust and between fires. 'Arry clambered over an iron sheet, and a yell came from underneath.

Al lifted it up. "'Arry! A survivor!"

Sure enough, there was a man underneath. He was crying, blood matted into his blonde hair and pouring down his face.

'Arry turned around and came back.

"Lift him up," he commanded. Al did so.

'Arry punched him in the stomach with such a force you could hear the organs compress. The man crumpled to the floor. 'Arry picked up a piece of wood, and lashed it down on him, rusty nails ripping out bits of flesh and spraying Al with blood. When the man groaned no more and lay lifeless at his feet, 'Arry was content.

Al stepped back from 'Arry in disbelief, dumbfounded at what he had just seen.

"Come on!" 'Arry commanded, walking on but Al didn't follow. He stood there, unable to comprehend what he had just seen. 'Arry looked back at him and shook his head in exasperation. He didn't wait for Al, he just continued on his way to the ruined warehouse, leaving 'Al on his knees, retching his guts out.

Ten minutes later, 'Arry emerged, a club of dark-haired, skinny men following him in various states of disarray. Some were limping, some were covered in blood. Others were fine and were either carrying or providing support to their fellow captives.

They walked straight past Al, still kneeling in a state of shock. Al felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you coming or what?" said 'Arry.

Al didn't know. "Why?" he whispered, pointing at the corpse next to him. "We were supposed to be rescuing people..."

"Did he look like us?" asked 'Arry.

Al shook his head.

"There you go. He was one of those who was trying to kidnap these other men. He is the reason these men were in there in the first place."

Al looked up at 'Arry, a questioning look on his face.

"People like him are the reason we are a target. If I hadn't done that he'd have done it to you in an instant. Remember, Jake is wanted dead. Now come on, we've gotta leave before they all come back."

Al didn't say a word, and had to be forcibly led back to the ship in a zombie-like state.