Disclaimer: Shockingly enough, I don't own the Jak & Daxter series.
Chapter One
Reunion
"Damas, you need to come down here and see this." His head mechanic's voice crackling over the communicator disturbed the king from his maps. The actions of the metal heads and even the marauders had been unusual of late, and he was hoping that tracking their movements would give him some insight into what was going on. Scowling at the distraction Damas snatched up the device and hit the switch to transmit his voice. "What is it Kleiver? I'm busy!" he barked back.
"Wish I knew."
That gave Damas pause, the communicator wasn't perfectly clear at the best of times, but he could swear he heard actual confusion in the man's voice. "I'll be there in five minutes." he finally replied after a moment's consideration, grabbing up his staff and heading out. Something strange enough for the man to call him down to see it personally could be related to his research. "I'm in the control room." Came a final message from Kleiver, giving Damas his destination.
~SoS~
The Spargus control room was situated right next to the garage, and filled with monitors alongside Kleiver's tools and personal effects, the large man pretty much lived here thanks to the convenience for access to his vehicles and the monitors themselves, his primary duty to the city alongside making sure the vehicles were in working order.
At the moment though, the man was simply staring at one specific screen, Damas recognized it as the one observing directly outside the main gate. "What did you call me down here for?" he demanded when the man made no move to explain himself upon the king's entry. Kleiver's head whipped around, apparently startled, before pointing back to the screen he'd been watching.
Upon closer inspection, there appeared to be a marauder vehicle parked outside of the gate. Even more unusually, a man stood in front of it, wearing typical protective clothing like his wastelanders, not the spike adorned leathers and iron of the marauders, and his head was wrapped up in a scarf, hiding his identity. It was unusual to be sure, but there was nothing stopping marauders from dressing a bit more, normally. What was odd, was the man appeared to be staring directly into the camera, a nearly impossible feat as the outer cameras were concealed and nearly impossible to spot without knowing where they were.
"He pulled up about an hour ago, and hasn't moved hardly at all since." Damas frowned, that was indeed unusual. Marauders usually avoided Spargus unless they came in droves or were chasing a wastelander. You never saw them just pull up to the gate, and to stand out there for an hour? He peered closer, as if he could identify the man just by getting closer to the screen, only to blink in surprise when the man twitched, moving for the first time since he'd entered the room to look more directly into the camera. A moment later, the man's right hand rose into the air, holding something out towards the camera.
Kleiver seemed surprised by the sudden movement, but quickly adjusted the camera for a closer look. Evidently he'd been keeping it zoomed out to keep a wide view on the area. Presumably in case this was a distraction of some kind. Damas' eyes widened as the object became clear, and he heard a sharp intake of breath from his side. "Is that..." The large mechanic began to ask, but Damas was already out the door, barking into his communicator and broadcasting across the entire city. "I want thirty wastelanders in the garage in twenty seconds! Move!"
~SoS~
Less than a minute later, Damas stood in the center of the garage, at least fifty wastelanders standing before him, spread out around the area, all facing the massive gate with weapons in hand. A call of "Weapons ready!" and every man and woman there had their guns pointed towards the gate, ready for whatever was out there. Damas couldn't help but smile at the loyalty his people displayed for so many to arrive, ready and willing at such short notice. But, as he turned around to face the gate his smile twisted into a scowl. "Open the gate." he growled into his communicator, and the gate obediently slid open moments later.
Strangely enough, the man was nowhere to be seen. The mystery of where he went didn't last long however, as the marauder buggy's engine roared to life, and the vehicle slowly, almost cautiously, pulled forward and into the garage, before the engine cut off just beyond the gate. "Close it." Damas muttered into his com, the gate sliding shut once more.
"Show yourself!" He called out, and a panel on the vehicle slid open, the man from before climbing out, moving with such agility he could be mistaken for flowing water and simply standing beside his vehicle. Seen close up, the man was small in stature, standing far shorter than anyone else present and thin too, but his build was clearly athletic, and Damas suspected the small frame held far more strength than his appearance would suggest. Further inspection wasn't possible though, as the man still wore his scarf as a mask, including a pair of goggles over his eyes, presumably to protect from the desert winds.
"Identify yourself." Rather than answering the growled command, the man reached into his pocket and drew out the same object from before, holding it up for all to see. Damas could hear gaps and surprised muttering all around him as the wastelanders realized exactly why they had been assembled so quickly. The object was very clearly the seal of Mar, symbol of the king's own household.
"Where did you get that?" Damas snapped, stepping forward and snatching the relic from the man's hand, the man evidently letting him do it, as he made no move to resist, and slowly lowered his arm. "I think you know where." The man's voice was muffled by his scarf, but the words were enough to ignite the king's rage nonetheless as he lurched forward, grabbing him by the collar with his empty hand and lifting him nearly off his feet.
"Where is my son you marauder trash?!" he snarled, ignoring the renewed gasps that arose from his followers. "I may drive one of their vehicles, but that does not make me one of them." The man's voice was calm, incredibly so for his current situation, but firm, showing an evident displeasure at being associated with the marauders. Not to be dissuaded Damas tightened his grip all the more, only to be surprised as the man raised his own hand, slowly, calmly, and grasped Damas by the wrist with a shockingly strong, yet somehow gentle grip, and pulled his hand away.
Without taking his eyes off the stunned king, the man rapped his knuckles gently on the side of his buggy. A moment later, a head appeared in the space the man had climbed through earlier, and the man turned and extracted a child, setting him gently on the ground before a speechless Damas. The child, was none other than his son!
Collapsing to his knees amidst yet another bevy of gasps and whisperings, Damas drew the child, Mar, into his arms for the first time in over a year, whispering words of joy and encouragement that even he couldn't hear, unable to hold back tears of relief and joy as he felt the boy's small arms attempt to encircle him in return.
After a few precious moments embracing his son, he looked back up towards the man that had brought him home, only to stop in shock once more. The man, no, the boy had removed his scarf and goggles, revealing the face of a child, he could be no more than sixteen years old, yet there he stood with a serene, if strangely longing smile as he watched the two embrace. "Who are you?" Damas found himself asking.
"That," The boy spoke, and Damas wondered how he could have missed the youthful voice, even muffled by his scarf. The boy smiled wryly, raising his right hand once more, and Damas blinked in surprise as the seal of Mar leapt from his hand, through the air and back into that of the boy, where it began to glow a deep eco red. "Is a very long story."
