"Oh yeah, life is good."
The hell it is, the fallen count thought as he watched the goddamn rat and the goddamn Dark Eco freak and their goddamn friends exit the Arena, talking and laughing, like the world hadn't been on the precipice of destruction the day before. From what he could hear, it sounded like they were planning to return to Haven right away to celebrate. If he could sneak onto the air train before it left...
"Well, ratface, whaddya say I show ya 'round yer new home?" the brute who abducted-sorry, adopted-him as his pet said, rudely interrupting his thoughts.
"Ah, um, ahem..." Veger shifted uncomfortably. Somehow, he had almost forgotten about the guy whose shoulder he was standing on. Kleiver was looking at him expectantly, and the ottsel had no idea how to respond. Should he try to trick the oaf into getting him close to the air train? Should he make an excuse to leave his sight, then sneak out of the city? Make a break for it-no way this fat slob could run very fast-or simply request to not be his "sidekick" and to be allowed to leave?
As these thoughts and others raced through his mind, Veger remained silent. Kleiver, ever the patient man, waited an astounding nine-and-a-half seconds before taking Veger's lack of response as a "yes."
"Awright, then, off we go," Kleiver said, heading up the stairs and out of the Arena. "I'm gonna show ya me home-sweet-home first, then the pub to meet me mates. Gotta make sure they don' mistake ya fer a pest or a snack or somethin', heh heh heh."
Veger gulped. The thought of more than one Kleiver running around nearly made him faint with terror, but he managed to keep it together.
"Uh, flattered as I am that you've chosen me to be your, er, companion, I'm afraid I'll have to decline," Veger said. "I don't want to sound unappreciative or disingenuous, but I find that Spargus is much too arid, inauspicious and anarchic for my liking, and-"
"What?" Kleiver asked, eying him with dislike. "Talk like a normal person, ya uppity rat."
Of all the times his experience as a bullshit-spouting politician had to fail him, it had to be now. "Wh-what I mean to say, is, um, I-I have a lot of work to accomplish back in Haven and-"
"Haven?" Kleiver spluttered angrily. "Haven? You want to give up all of this," Kleiver gestured to their view of Spargus from atop the Arena stairs, "for that smoke-spewing city o' cowards and weaklings?"
"That smoke-spewing city is my home," Veger snarled, his anger overriding his sense of self-preservation, "and its people are smarter, stronger, and cleaner than anyone Spargus could produce."
He expected an explosion of rage, a obscenity-filled diatribe, or even being plucked from his perch and thrown down the staircase. What he did not expect was for Kleiver to seethe for about a second, and then chuckle and stroke his mustache.
"Your home, eh? That so? 'Cause to hear Jak and them tell it, ya didn't care 'bout it so much that ya wouldn't topple the Palace and flatten half the city and its people."
All of Veger's fury and dread evaporated in an instant, leaving him numb. He wanted to defend himself, explain that the greater good had depended on that sacrifice, or just say that his reasons were noble and that he didn't have to explain his actions. But the words wouldn't come. He couldn't speak, even to tell Kleiver to shut up.
Kleiver had won the argument already, but he wasn't through yet. His smirk grew crueler as he grabbed Veger and stared into his eyes.
"Ya think they'll keep mum 'bout whatcha did? Think they won't tell ev'ryone that yer the one what did it? Even if ya wasn't a lil' brown rat, ya'd never survive going back. Even if they tossed ya in jail, ya wouldn't be safe. Haven ain't yer home anymore, mate, and it won't be ever again."
And that is how Veger became a truly broken man.
