Bijin: Alright! I know I phail at life, but I can't help it! I know I should be working on Focus of a Mind or... Dream and Nightmares... or... I dunno... something I already have going! But I finished this story and I enjoyed it enough to go ahead and post it.
Plus since it is finished, it shouldn't experience any delays in getting it posted. I hope to post a chapter a day for the next little while. The story is 10 chapters and an epilogue, so it shouldn't take too long. I enjoyed writing it.
THIS IS AN OFFICIAL SPOILER ALERT! IF YOU HAVE NOT FINISHED THE STORY OF JAK X: COMBAT RACING, THEN THIS
STORY WILL SPOIL IT FOR YOU. EITHER GO FINISH THE GAME OR WATCH THE SCENES ON YOUTUBE. THANK YOU.
Ah-hem! So... yeah. This takes place several months after the events of Jak X. Let Master of Yin begin! Enjoy!
Chapter 1: Contradiction
A sack. It was a simple sack. Nothing too outstanding about it. A typical wastelander sack. Small strings of burlap woven together to form a bag of sorts, tied off at the top, most commonly made and used only within the confines of Spargus city. Sig regarded it with a raised eyebrow.
"This is it?" he inquired dully.
Jak met his quirked eyebrow with one of his own. "What did you expect, the lost Precursor legacy? I just collect what I see. I'm not an archaeologist." Large arms crossed over a built chest. "Besides. You gave me a time limit. Kleiver will kick my ass if I'm out past it lately. You two are so paranoid." Daxter yawned from his spot on Jak's shoulder-guard. Jak was a smaller, and yet overbearing young man. Wide shoulders carried atop a thin yet built frame. T-shirt hugged tightly across his chest and a thick jacket draped overtop. Pants also hugged his legs, however, were thick and lined with pockets and heavy seams. Heavy boots- which seemed to make his footfalls sound heavier than he was- stretched up his calves, pants tucked inside. Ever-present goggles and headband sat upon his brow, red mask having been removed from his mouth moments before.
"The sands weren't even picking up." Daxter argued. "But Jak brought us back anyway."
"Don't sound so down, Chili pepper." Sig countered, his lax speech holding something akin to a chuckle. "Unless you want your boy here killed, you'd better mind those limits. A lot of people have been looking for you lately, Jak. Mizo wasn't the only guy you pissed off in the races." Sig himself was no pushover either. The leader of Spargus city and long-time friend of Jak's, Sig was a large heavy figure. Wrapped almost beyond recognition of his true figure, Sig was covered in armor, helmet tapering into an eyepiece covering his right eye. Old pants and boots had been replaced for weight training, and he stood as a powerful juggernaut.
"I'm used to that type of attitude, Sig. But still. Back when we were fighting Errol, I wasn't this restricted." Jak complained, his eyebrows now bent into a scowl, much akin to a child arguing over curfews with a parent. The difference in size between the two of them seemed to matter very little to Jak.
"Maybe not, but you do realize that a lot more people are after you now. With all those appearances on tv during the races, your face got plastered a lot more places. And something tells me Rayn has some unfinished business with you." Sig looked down and settled back into his throne, looking distractedly at the small bag of artifacts.
Daxter suddenly perked up. "Crime Lord or not, I'd love to do business with her." He smirked, his tongue flicking within his mouth in a quiet growl. A large hand came up, palm smothering the small ottsel's face as Jak spoke again.
"Well sure, but there's rarely been a time in the last few years when someone didn't want me dead. I'm used to it. And I like my freedom. You keep this confines shit up and we're gonna have a problem." He growled, pointing a finger at Sig. "I'm out. See ya." With that, and a pair of small teeth on Jak's palm, the elf headed toward the rickety elevator which lowered him to city level.
Daxter yawned as Jak's form carried them away from the head building and into their own little apartment not too far away. His feet plodded them through the door, quickly locking it behind them, then headed for their shared bedroom. He plopped onto the bed, Daxter flopping down next to them, both simultaneously deciding to call it a day. "Jak?" Daxter requested, cozying himself against Jak's side much like a cat would. A grunt was his only answer. "Can we go home?" He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, dreamy look entering his large black eyes. "I do so miss my Naughty Ottsel... and my bar."
Jak didn't say anything, his eyes closing and a doze overtaking him.
"Jak...?"
The call was quiet, faint... as though tears waited on the edge of each word.
A coppery, disgusting taste was lousy in his mouth, the smell of whatever he tasted was all around him, and the sight... A dull sheen covered everything, cloth a deeper color than it had been, puddles of the same littered the ground, and upon his own large hands and claws the same substance covered. Like a mouse investigating from its hole, a female stood nearby, her face contorted with terror and intense concern.
"Jak...?" She repeated.
He stared at her for a long time, his mind feeling somewhat numb, as though he hadn't used it in a while. His mouth was slacked open, half to attempt to relieve the awful taste, half to perhaps make some form of noise, though nothing came from his raw throat. He looked to his hands, fisting them gently, feeling the warm sticky substance he was covered in, though could not see. His lips formed a single silent word, and he fell.
"Jak!"
Pale blue eyes flew open and stared into small black orbs. The small furry creature had clambered upon his chest and had taken some firm grip of his ears, shaking them. "Wake up already!"
His form heaved itself into a sitting position, and he glanced around. "Daxter? What's going on?" There was a dull pounding sound in the back of his mind, his hand rubbed his temple to relieve it.
"You sleep much, Jak? Jeeze! I was about to check for a pulse!" Daxter cried, throwing his small gloved paws into the air. He swung around and pointed at the wall, where a low-pitched beeping was whining at him.
Groggy, Jak pulled himself off of the couch, where he had obviously slept, and wandered to the side, kicking aside the few cups which littered the carpet along the way. Large hands slammed down on the beeping device and a very bleary, "Hello?" was the response to whoever on the other end had sent the tone.
"Damnit!" Roared a deep voice from the other end. "I've been trying to get ahold of you for twenty minutes, cherries!"
"Sig?" Jak murmured.
"Listen, kid, you've got some guests who seem rather impatient up here. Get up to the throne room now."
Jak raised an eyebrow at the communicator. Some odd sounds had been in the background, heavy clinking of metal and dull clicks of metalic armor scraping as its wearer moved. Low murmuring of voices through communicators. Jak raised an eyebrow and turned, Daxter's small body being the first thing he laid eyes on. The small ottsel had adopted a general pose of both imatience and disgruntlement, paws crossed over one another, weight thrown to rest on one leg, and tail twiching with agitation.
"What?"
"Where did you go last night?!" He demanded angrily.
"Huh? Where did I...?" He scratched his head. "Far as I know, I didn't go anywhere."
"Yeah you did! You just got up and headed out. I asked you where you were going and all you said was 'out'. You were gone for six hours!"
Jak allowed his hand to brush his scalp again. "Um... I don't remember doing that. Maybe I was sleepwalking."
"Whatever. Just hurry up. Sig sounded pretty pissed off." His nose twitched. "Did you shower while you were out?"
Jak rolled his eyes. "I told you, I have no ide- hey!"
The small animal had quickly grabbed his leg, climbing up his side, switching to his back, then clambering onto his shoulder before sticking his face into Jak's short yellow-green hair. He gave a great inhale, making an eyebrow raise above Jak's left eye. "Your hair smells like shampoo."
Though he didn't remember showering, it certainly didn't seem in his interest to remain there and answer the barrage of questions Daxter would undoubtedly unleash were he to admit that fact. He shrugged. "Yeah, I must've. Let's go. Sig sounded urget."
The walk over to the throne room was rather quiet, the two having their own reasons for not kicking up a conversation; Daxter's suspicions, and Jak's own curiosity. Daxter must've been dreaming. Though the fact that he had fallen asleep on the bed and woken up on the couch certainly seemed odd. Either way, he made his way to the lift, which quickly shot him to the first floor, coming to an odd sight.
There were at least five Krimson Guard officers present, a few talking rather laxly with Sig, and the others watching the area Jak stood in, as though waiting for him. He took a few cautious steps in as those watching his position drew the others' attention to him. Sig waved him over, and he stepped through their ranks, a suspicious look in his eye. The Krimson Guard hadn't bothered with him in over six months. Why would they suddenly come investigate his home? As he took his place beside Sig, the seeming leader of the officers stepped foreward.
"Jak? You've been summoned back to Haven City by her Emenince Ashelin. Both she and Officer Torn have something of top urgency to discuss with you."
"We're going back to the city?" Jak asked incredulously.
His shoulder bounced with Daxter's small victory dance. "We get to go back! We get to go back!"
"What's happened?" Jak requested.
The guard shook his head. "Don't worry about that. Everything will be explained once you get there. But you need to come with us immediately."
One of the side guards gently took hold of his shoulder and urged him toward the door, though Jak protested for a moment, looking to Sig. "Wait... Sig? Are you... what's happening?"
"Don't worry. I've talked to Torn and Ashelin already. Spargus will survive a little while without you." Sig assured him, waving his hand.
Jak smirked, but he did not allow himself to be lead away just yet. "But what about our stuff? It's still in the apartment."
The guard who seemed to consistantly urge his shoulder foreward, in hopes that the rest of his body would follow, spoke in response. "Your things will be moved at a later time. Sig has agreed to have a few officers here work on getting it all packed."
Jak sighed, and shrugged, pulling back to look at Sig one last time. "Oh! Sig! About my apartment... make Kleiver do it." A wicked smile overtook his lips as he was lead away and Sig couldn't help but chuckle as he watched them vanish down the lift.
"Well, they said they'd send for him when they had more information." His smile faded. "I hope things go better this time."
Bijin: Well... yeah. There it is. Hope you enjoyed it. If you did, tell me! If you didn't, tell me! Lemme know what you think. See ya!
Next Chapter: Home