And Iron Bars a Cage
Haven
This was a new part of Haven palace, one that Dax had never visited before. There were windows everywhere, in the rooms that he could see into, and the curtains were pulled so the afternoon light could shine in. It was still part of the old, defensible part of the palace, so the doors were narrow enough for one man to guard, and the ceilings were low, and everything was made of stone. Still, it was nicer than the prisons in the basement, which were dank, dark, cold, and carried the lingering stink of fear and pain.
They'd listened to him.
Dax almost stumbled, and smiled nicely when his guard turned to look at him. He was fine. Everything was just peachy over here, thank you!
"They moved 'im?" he asked, doing his best to sound unconcerned, like this was just another day on another planet, nothing special going on at all. He must have succeeded, because the guard shrugged one massive shoulder.
"Last night. When you were taking care of the troops." The one-eyed guard turned, and smiled. "Thanks for that, cherry. Thought a couple of them were done for."
"It's what I'm here for," Dax replied. "Well, that, and advising where I can." And looking for this Mar kid, and helping hold up the eco shield over the city, and being the Precursor on the spot, keeping an eye on the Dark Makers' actions on the planet. Not to mention doing what he could for his new friend.
The guard nodded, and looked down the hallway. "They put him in one of the corner rooms."
Dax nodded, and did what he could to see around his guard. He felt a little bad, not knowing his guard's name, but the man didn't seem to mind. Then again, the dark, impassive face was harder to read than most elves. Maybe, if everyone here looked like Precursors did... The thought of the over large, muscled guard as a furry little ottsel nearly made Dax laugh.
"Mm?" The guard looked down at Dax, one bald eye ridge lifted in question.
"Just thought of what I'll tell 'im, 'bout our raspy commander this morning," Dax said. "I figure, if anything's going to make 'im laugh, it'll be Torn's little tantrum."
The guard snorted, and shook his head. "I don't understand you," he said. "I would've expected a Precursor to be more..."
"Dignified? I tried that, once. It didn't work out so well. Besides, we're all friends here."
"Touched you think that way, cherry."
"Yeah, well," Dax said, and smiled.
The guard stopped walking in front of one of the very last doors, and nodded. "This room," he said.
"Alright. Remember, stay out here."
"I will." The guard opened the door a crack, and Dax stepped forward. His nerves finally woke up, and he felt his stomach do a slow roll over. The guard opened the door further, and Dax stepped in.
As always, he took a moment to examine his surroundings before doing anything else. In the prison, it'd been necessary to look around, to try and find the dark eco infested bugs that liked the place. He'd been stung by two or three, his first visit down, and even a Precursor could have a bad reaction. The swelling had gone down after several hours, once he'd directed his personal eco stores to the infected bites, but it had still hurt.
This room was a good one, he decided. It was larger than the last one, and someone had whitewashed over the stone walls in the recent past. There were two large windows set into the wall at the back of the room, and the new bars planted in the stone of the floor and ceiling gleamed, almost cheerfully, in the light. Behind the thick bars dividing the room in two was a second door, one that led- Dax supposed- to a small washroom for the inhabitant.
"Hey, big guy," he said, finally looking at the room's occupant. Not directly at him, since that tended to make him nervous. Sometimes that just meant he huddled at the back of his cage, teeth bared so Dax could see his fangs. Sometimes, that meant that he would lunge for the bars, snarling and swiping his claws in Dax's direction.
"Like the new place, Jak?" Dax asked, and moved over to the bars. He crouched down on his heels, and waited. He could see the eco saturates' interest, in his lifted head and twitching ears. Jak's eerie, black eyes were wide, and seemingly focused on Dax. "I got to admit, its several steps up from the last one, huh. I mean, we've got windows now."
Jak made a small sound in the back of his throat. It might have been agreement, but it might just have been a noise for the sake of noise. It was hard to tell.
After a moment, Dax cleared his throat and looked at Jak's shoulder. The man was starting to put on some weight, he noticed, and smiled faintly. It was possible to see actual flesh, and not just bones and wiry muscles, and the tendons that held everything together. Maybe, if this kept up, Jak would have padding and insulation, and wouldn't spend his nights shivering in his nest of blankets.
Dax hoped so. Of course, it would be better if people stopped insisting on cages and bars, but at the moment Jak was too badly hurt to do without them. He needed to believe that the bad people couldn't get at him. Of course, maybe, one day... But that day wasn't today.
"I'm going to change now, Jak," he said, and pulled off his gloves. He set them neatly to one side, and flexed his now bare fingers. "Don't be afraid. It's just like always. I'll just change and then we'll talk, you and me. Okay? You just stay calm now."
He kept up the quiet, meaningless chatter. The words didn't seem to matter as much as the tone of voice, which meant Dax could get away with repeating himself again and again. He pulled off his shirt, and folded it neatly, and then stood up to deal with his pants and boots. Once all of the clothes the elves insisted were necessary were gone, he stopped talking and focused.
Eco welled up from inside, and he directed it through his veins and arteries, to the tips of his fingers, toes, and ears. He gave the eco a mental twist, and felt his body shift.
It didn't hurt any more. He shrank, from five and a half feet to a normal two feet, and felt fur sprout and cover everywhere. Thick, leathery pads covered the bottoms of his feet and his palms, and he swished his tail just to make sure his balance was adjusted.
Dax opened his eyes again, and gave himself an all over body shake to get everything settled. "There we go," he said, and stepped through the bars. They might have been set too close together for an elf to get through, but they weren't any sort of obstacle for an ottsel. Everything was bigger, now. The proper size, he couldn't help but think.
"So, Jak, are you okay with me coming closer?" Dax dropped to all fours, and walked very slowly towards the eco saturate in the corner, making sure to keep his body language friendly. These people didn't have ottsels, at least not before Dax had arrived, but they did have croco-dogs and muse-cats, and the animals' body language was close enough to an ottsel's.
Jak shifted, sitting up, back to the corner. He stretched out one leg, and his foot slid out from under the blanket. Dax glanced at the scarred sole of Jak's foot, and pressed his lips together. Then he looked up at Jak's face, and smiled.
"Want to hear about the latest rant, courtesy of our cranky commander?" he asked, and stopped next to Jak's outstretched leg. "I promise it's a good one."
Jak's eyebrows came together to form a single line across his forehead, and then his expression cleared. Slowly, and with a care for his long claws, Jak reached over and picked Dax up, gripping the Precursor around the middle. Just as slowly, Jak shifted until Dax was cradled against his chest, one hand keeping the Precursor in place while he stroked Dax's head with a finger.
Dax sighed, and closed his eyes. "I guess you do want to hear," he said. He grabbed a handful of Jak's shirt, and shifted very slightly so his tail wasn't folded back on itself. "Where should I start, huh?"
Jak shrugged one shoulder, and hummed.
"You're right. The beginning's a good place to start. Well, I guess it started last night, really. When the metal-heads and a Dark Maker decided to attack the forces at Dead Town..."
Sometimes, Jak dreams. And in his dreams, he remembers.
He remembers green; green grass, green trees, the taste and feel of green eco washing over and through him, easing all his hurts.
In his dreams, he runs through the green, skipping every occasional step just because he can, because it's fun. In his dreams, he's smaller, weaker, and a stumble that leads to a fall down a shallow hill hurts. It hurts, and his lip trembles and he cries a little, just a few tears, because his knees are scraped and a few drops of red blood mar his pale skin.
But in his dreams there is the green; green eco, gentle fingers that are stained green and make the hurt go away, wipe off the blood to reveal untouched skin. He knows, in the dreams and in the remembering, that no matter what happens, no matter how bad things are, there will always be green eco and gentle fingers.
Jak always wakes up. And where he is, there is no green, no grass or trees or eco. Just gray. Gray, stone walls that are hard and cold, gray floors, gray skies when he's let out to kill the monsters. Gray-faced monsters with grasping, pinching fingers and angry laughter and pain.
He wants the green back.
It'd been a long day, and it looked like it was going to be a longer night.
Dax sighed, and stretched up until he looked like an elf, down to the bare skin and full head of tri-colored hair. And a decided lack of tail, he thought in disgust. How in the nine hells were these people able to run and jump without a tail for balance? If he went any faster than a careful walk, he was likely to pitch right over and fall flat on his face!
He heard something shuffle just behind him, and glanced over his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Jak," he said, only a little hoarse from all the talking he'd done. "I have to go. Otherwise the Dark Makers will break the shield wall, and we'll all be running on treadmills to power... whatever lunacy they'll need power for. Toasters, maybe. What do Dark Makers even eat? They can't eat eco, it tastes too bad to eat. Trust me, I tried."
Jak made a small noise that sounded like, Dax was sure, a kitten. He reached up and held onto one of the bars of his cage.
"I'll be back tomorrow," Dax promised. "Unless the sky falls in, in which case you'll see me anyways. Okay?" He carefully patted Jak's knuckles, and grabbed his pants off the careful pile. "Haven't these people heard of heaters? They don't have fur, and it's so easy to get cold without fur... Bah! Now, you rest well tonight, okay? Like I said, I'll see you tomorrow."
Jak made a quiet sound in agreement, and moved away from the bars. When Dax glanced back, just before leaving the room, Jak had returned to his nest of blankets and looked mostly asleep already.
Dax sighed, and smiled wanly at his guard. "Know what tonight's talk is about? I can feel the dark eco on the horizon."
"Then you know more than me," the guard replied. He shouldered the massive gun he called 'the peacemaker'- well, really, he called it his baby, everyone else called it the peacemaker- and led Dax through the palace's maze of hallways and interconnecting rooms.
Whoever had designed the palace had been insane, or obsessed with security. In the old part, there were some places you could only get to by going through other rooms, the hallways switched back on themselves, and the halls, and doorways, were all narrow enough that a single person could hold off an army, as long as their strength and ammo held out. Even in the new part of the palace, the hallways- though wider, and with a higher ceiling- could be guarded by two or three soldiers, and there weren't any niches big enough for an attacker to take shelter in. There were very few blind corners, and the most important rooms were accessed only by going through other rooms first.
Dax sighed, and thought longingly of the clean lines of a Precursor ship. Yes, everything was set up for defense there, starting with everything being of a size only a Precursor could appreciate, but at least you knew where you were!
"Hard to get used to, Cherry?" the guard asked, apparently in response to the sigh.
"Yeah. Everything's just very... different. Strange. Not bad, not really, except the part where I can't find my own bedroom without help, but it's not what I grew up with." Dax glanced at a tapestry that depicted, in detail, a metal-head attack and the city's response, and winced away from the scene of mutilated body parts. Who wanted to look at that sort of thing?
"Not what I grew up with, either," the guard admitted. "I grew up in the slums, before I became a Wastelander."
"A- what?"
"Wastelander." The guard looked down and smiled. "Special kind of fighter, I guess you could say. We make our livings out of killing metal-heads and harvesting the skull gems. Half the time we live out in the wasteland, and I got to tell you, after wide open spaces, this city is pretty claustrophobic to me."
"Mm. I get that feeling myself, though I think it's because I'm still thinking in terms of being two feet tall and furry."
"If you didn't switch back, you might not get that feeling."
"I have to," Dax said, and didn't elaborate. It wasn't just the feeling of wrongness, when he was elfin in form, or the impossibility of sleeping without a tail to hold onto, but it was part of who he was. How could he give it up?
Of course, no one was going to respect a two foot tall ottsel, never mind he was a Precursor, so he had to be an elf too. It was enough to give him a headache.
He fell silent, as the guard led him out of the old palace and into the new, passing any number of courtiers and servants on errands. One and all, they stepped to the side and bowed their heads to him. Whether they believed him to be a Precursor or not, they knew that their leaders, Battle Commander Torn and the Baroness Ashelin, treated him with respect. That was enough for most people in the palace, no need to toss ancient gods into the mix.
In truth, Dax was somewhat amused by the whole thing. He'd been to other planets before, nominally under the Precursor's protection, where the inhabitants had been one short step from skinning their visitors. This was a much nicer pace, and if things weren't so dire, he'd have enjoyed the visit. As it was, it turned what might have been intolerable into something he could deal with for months on end.
The guard took him to the lesser council chamber, instead of the greater. That was a good sign, actually. It meant only the core group of the city's protectors would be involved. When the sub-commanders and less vital nobles got involved, things got complicated.
There wasn't any ceremony with entering the lesser council chamber, fortunately. Dax didn't think he'd ever get used to being announced, let alone as 'the great Precursor, Daxter'.
Torn looked up from the map he, and several of the others, had been studying. "Daxter, Sig. Good to see you."
Sig! That was his guard's name! Dax nodded in reply, and moved over to look at the map. "So, got any plans, fearless leader?" he asked, and leaned on the large, heavy table.
Several of the others, Samos and Ashelin in particular, looked somewhat disapproving, but Dax pretended not to notice. He had an important, impossible to copy role. No matter how disapproving anyone got, there was no way they could get rid of him.
"I do," Torn replied, in his roughened voice. Dax had offered to heal whatever was wrong with Torn's throat, and the commander had reacted as if Dax had offered to shove a venomous snake in his face. "But first, are you able to take over the shields for up to an hour? Vin doesn't think it will be that long, but worst case scenario would be an hour."
Dax looked over at Vin, the chief engineer. The man was memorable only by how paranoid and twitchy he was. If he'd been calmer, Dax would have never remembered passing him on the street.
"Easily," he replied. "When?"
"N-n-n-no earlier than t-t-tomorrow m-m-morning," Vin said, shaking so hard he looked like he was vibrating. "T-t-the calibrations- t-the details- m-m-morning is really early, if I w-w-w-work all n-night to t-t-t-take t-t-the shield generat-tors down." He gestured, more like twitches really, his mouth working soundlessly before he jumped and started shouting. "We're all going to die! They're going to eat our brains! Run! Hide! I don't want to die!"
Dax looked away and bit his lip. Vin wasn't suffering from an illness, just an over reactive imagination. "Vin, no one's going to die," he said, which was a flat out lie. Of course people were going to die. It would just be in battle. "I'm going to shield the city. Remember?"
"R-r-right."
Torn massaged his forehead. "Maybe you want to go sit down," he said.
"S-s-s-sure. You're the b-boss." Vin moved over to one of the chairs around the edge of the room, and sat down, looking vaguely panicked.
"So," Dax said, brightly, "I take over the shields for a day, and then what?"
"As everyone knows, whenever Daxter places a shield over the city, the metal-heads and Dark Makers are disoriented for twenty-four to forty-eight hours. Are you sure you have no idea why it happens?"
"Not a clue in the world. Maybe because I use light eco, and they're dark eco, but other than that... I'm a healer. I don't do eco theory."
"Right, right." Torn looked disgusted. "We'll use the period of disorientation to push their lines back, and cause as much damage as possible. We'll have the KG forces here, and here, and we'll move the Dark Eco Warrior here, and let him out." He pointed at three different spots on the map. Dax frowned a little; Jak was being placed where most of the Dark Maker sightings had been made, but didn't comment. It wasn't unexpected, after all.
"Depending on how the enemy reacts, we'll either pull our forces back here or advance to the old boundary lines. Whatever they do, we'll move the Dark Eco Warrior to this point, and send him in this direction to cause as much damage to their forces as possible."
Dax's frown deepened, and he finally started to scowl as Torn laid out the plan for next week. It wouldn't stay the way he was putting it out at the moment. "No plan lasts beyond the first engagement" was one of his parents' favorite phrases. Still, it was a good projection for the next week, dealing in generalities instead of specifics, emphasizing possible avenues of attack instead of moves that had been set in stone. There was just one little thing Dax didn't like.
Jak was being sent out against the metal-heads and Dark Makers every day for eight days straight. Sure, it might not stay that way. And yes, Dax knew that Jak was one of the best fighters, and one of the only weapons- though he hated to think of the eco saturate that way- that was really effective against the Dark Makers. But no one, no elf, no Precursor, and no Dark Maker for that matter, could fight day after day without a break, and as far as Dax was aware, Jak rarely got that break.
"And after that Jak will get a vacation," Dax said, interrupting Torn on the ninth day of planned fighting. He folded his arms and looked resolute.
"Excuse me?" Ashelin stepped forward, and glared at Dax. "In case you weren't paying attention, we need to use that warrior. The Dark Army is increasing its attacks and we need everything we can to keep it off our doorstep!"
"I have been paying attention," Dax said, careful not to raise his voice. "But you have a plan for Jak to fight eight days in a row, and you don't do that to anyone else. I do pay attention, and not just to what happens in this room or on Healer's Avenue. You rotate your fighters, and the number of times you have any of your KG fight more than three days in a row can be counted on one hand. Jak can't patrol the city, I'm not even suggesting he does, but you can give him a break. He's been fighting nearly every day already this month. He's been coming back injured recently, and that never used to happen."
"Daxter," Torn said, "I understand your concerns. But we need the warrior on the front lines."
"Jak. His name is Jak. Use it for once, why don't you?"
"Fine. We need Jak on the front lines."
"Every day?" Dax leaned forward, until he was nearly nose to nose with Torn. His shoulder muscles felt wire tight, until they were about to snap. "He needs a break, damn you."
"And we can't afford to give him one!" Torn yelled, as loudly as was possible for him.
Dax shoved away from the table, and clenched his teeth. "Why not?" he demanded, and swept the room with his eyes. Samos, Ashelin, Torn, and a few others whose names escaped him at that moment all either refused to meet his eyes, or looked away. "Why in the seven hells not? Stars, you can afford to give your KG a break! You can afford to give yourselves a break! Why not Jak? What's so different between him and everyone else that he can't be given a break?" He sneered, and glared at Torn. "Or is it that you don't think he deserves a break?
"If it's the fighting, you have hundreds, thousands of fighters in the KG. If you're worried about what the Dark Makers are going to do to the shields again, I'll take care of it. If it's the eco powers, they're just like any other ability. Over use is going to make them go away." Dax tilted his head, and pretended to think. "I mean, gee, if it's just because he's the only one here with eco powers, that's easily fixed. I know you said everyone but him died in that nasty project the old Baron had, but I'm a Precursor. I can give you eco powers, if that's what you want."
Torn flinched backwards, and Dax noted, from the corner of his eyes, that everyone else leaned back slightly. Except Sig, who looked- thoughtful? Interesting.
Dax forced himself to take several deep, calming breaths. When he was sure he could talk without yelling, he leaned forward again. "Jak is getting a vacation. One week. And that is the end of it. Do you understand me?"
Torn didn't seem able to meet Dax's eyes, or speak. It was Samos who stepped forward and cleared his throat.
"We understand, my boy. I know you think we're being unfair, but... our options are limited."
"So find new ones," Dax snapped, and spun away from the table. "Continue your talk, I'm finished here."
Sig caught up with Dax right before the Precursor turned the wrong way and headed for the kitchens. "C'mon, Cherry. Do you want to see Jak again, or your room?"
"My room," Dax decided. "I'm not in a safe mood right now."
Sig nodded, and gestured towards the correct corridor. "You'll feel better after some sleep."
Dax kind of doubted that, but kept quiet.
Dax fingered the KG armor Torn had laid out for him, and raised his eyebrows. "You have got to be kidding me," he said.
Sig cleared his throat. "I don't think anyone's joking."
"I've never worn armor before!"
"You've also never insisted on accompanying the Dark- sorry, Jak- into battle before," Torn said, as he stepped into the tent. "Put the armor on."
"No." Dax stepped away from the armor, and concentrated. Eco was easy. Anything else, though technically manipulating eco, was somewhat harder to manage. Still, the armor was inanimate. He waved his hand over the armor, once, and slowly at that. The air shimmered, the armor glowed too brightly for the elves to look at, and when the glow died the armor was gone, and in its place were some very fancy robes.
Dax smirked at Torn's expression, and Sig's careful non-expression. "I don't need armor," he said. "I can take care of my own protection, thanks."
Torn nearly growled, and turned his back as Dax quickly changed into the robes. "You're not going to listen to a word I say, are you?" he asked.
"Depends on the words." The Precursor straightened his collar, and looked down at himself. With his hair color- red at the tips, fading to a dark orange, until it turned yellow at the roots- the normal Precursor colors made him look washed out, much like a corpse. Because of that, he hadn't done much to the colors from the armor, making his robes dark blue, nearly black, with pale silver touches at strategic places. It was still obviously Precursor robes, which might draw Dark Maker attention, but at least it didn't shout it like the white and pale blue robes the other Precursors liked.
"Alright, fine. I think this is a bad idea. I think you going unarmored into battle is a really stupid idea. Precursor or not, you can still die."
"I know."
Torn did growl, at that, and turned around. "Finally, you haven't seen the- Jak- in battle before. You don't know what he's like. You've only seen him when he's behaving himself. When he fights, he's as bad as any of the Dark Makers."
Dax straightened his back, his eyes grave. "He can't be any worse than our warriors. I- this isn't something most people know, about Precursors, but we do have a warrior class, who are born and bred to fight. They can be very... enthusiastic." And be very disappointed with their healer son, but he wasn't going to get into that. "I've seen some of our fighters when they're in the depths of battle fury, and I've seen them rip limbs off their enemies. I'm not worried."
Torn shook his head. "You haven't seen anything like this. Sig? Do what you can- if Daxter is going to get in trouble, haul him back, no matter what he says."
"He is standing right here," Dax pointed out.
Sig shifted in place, and cleared his throat. "I don't think a Precursor is going to get into much trouble," he said. "Still, if you are in trouble, no arguing. Understand? Your safety is my job."
"Fine," Dax said, and scowled. "But you're going to wait until I say I'm in trouble, and not before. I know what I'm capable of, and what you think is trouble might not be."
Sig rolled his eye, but nodded. "Alright, Cherry. You're calling the shots."
"I should hope so!"
"Precursors help us all," Torn said, and then scowled when Dax chuckled. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"
"Sure I do. Don't worry, Torn. I'll help you."
"Oh, for... Go!"
Dax chuckled, and stepped around Torn. Once outside, he felt his gut clench. Everyone was waiting, and it was fairly obvious what they were waiting for. The metal-heads were a dark blot that covered the ground half a mile away, stretching nearly from one horizon to the other. There were a few Dark Makers, large and prowling through the metal-head ranks.
This was what they were fighting against. He felt more than a little sick. How could they stand against the Dark Army? And this was only a part of it! They were just one city, and the KG was a finite resource. They were outnumbered twenty to one, at least, and- and- it was amazing no one broke and ran, but they had been fighting this war for almost a year now.
Dax hid his trembling hands in his large sleeves, and looked for the prison transport that had Jak. He had to remind himself that the small force stationed here wasn't even a fraction of Torn's forces. Most of the KG was waiting in the wings, figuratively and literally, waiting to swoop in and catch the Dark Army in a pincer move.
"First time on a battle field, cherry?" Sig stepped a little closer, and for once the oversized gun was more of a comfort than something threatening.
"First time before everything's finished, anyways. Normally I'm on cleanup."
"Ah. Well, there'll be plenty of that. Don't worry. I've seen Jak fight. I know you're worried about the chili pepper, but I'm not."
Dax shook his head, and pressed his lips together. He could see the prison transport now, and hear the noises from the back. It sounded like someone was slamming their fists against the walls. As Dax got closer, he realized that the situation was exactly like what it sounded like. Jak was punching the walls, repeatedly, and snarling loud enough to be heard over the punching.
"Hey, big guy," he called, which stilled the punching and snarling for a brief moment. "Guess what, you've got company this fight."
The punching started up again, and the snarling was replaced by howling. The nearby KG turned to stare at the transport, and then began to edge away.
"O-kay then," Dax murmured, and stared at the transport.
"Now, I'm new," Sig said, and scratched his nose. "But I hear things."
"Uh huh. And what do you hear?"
"That Praxis' monster is only let out of his cage when there's fighting to be had." Sig looked down at Dax. "The kid you visit isn't a monster, not really. But this? I'll believe that this is a monster."
"No, he's not," Dax murmured, so quietly he had difficulty hearing himself. He felt a shift in the eco, and turned to look at the Dark Army.
They were advancing. He felt a thrill of nerves, a jolt that raced up and down his spine and ended at his fingertips, which began to glow faintly with eco. Jak somehow knew the Dark Army was moving, because the howling stopped. So did the pounding.
The transport began to move, to back up. Dax figured the reason out right away. No one was certain that Jak wouldn't turn and savage the KG fighters, no matter how many times they'd used him in a fight. They didn't want him to even see a hint of the KG.
Dax swallowed, and followed the transport on foot. His palms were sweating, a uniquely disgusting habit of elves. Sweat. Who'd thought that up? It was sticky, smelly, and just plain gross.
The transport stopped moving, and Dax stopped next to it. The Dark Army was moving faster now, and he could see the individual metal-heads that made up the front line, bestial things that ran on all fours and howled. Behind them came rank after rank of the monsters, and behind them were the Dark Makers.
The front line was getting closer, and closer. Dax glanced over at the transport, and did his best to hide his shaking.
It was only when he could see the nearest metal-head's eyes that anything happened. The transport's back doors flung open. The nearest metal-heads slowed down slightly, right before Jak leapt from the transport.
Jak didn't make any sound. The metal-heads made a horrific screeching sound, roughly half of them turning to attack the eco saturate, the other half doing their best to get away.
The transport used the confusion to get away from the knot of fighting. Dax stumbled, and looked around frantically. Jak was there, ahead and in the middle of a crowd of metal-heads. Dark, oily blood was spraying through the air, and assorted pieces of metal-heads were being trampled into the ground. For the moment, the area around Dax was clear.
Not for long. He glanced over his shoulder at Sig, who hefted the peacemaker in a gesture that was likely supposed to be reassuring. Dax tried to smile, and then turned back to the metal-heads that were between him and Jak.
"Sig? I'd like you to back up. A lot. To the KG lines. Trust me, alright?"
"What? Cherry-"
"I'll be safer if you go." Dax pressed his hands together in front of his chest, a gesture used throughout many universes to pray to the Precursors. "Please."
"Damn it, cherry." Even so, Dax heard Sig backing away, promptly getting into a fight with a large metal-head that disregarded the peacemaker as unimportant.
Dax looked over just in time to see Sig blow the thing's head off.
"Any time, Sig," he reminded the fighter.
Then he looked over at Jak. He pulled on the eco in his system, and concentrated. This was going to get the Dark Maker's attention like nothing else, but he had an idea.
The metal-head fighters were working as a cohesive whole only because of the Dark Makers, he was sure. If the Dark Makers could be taken out- and Dax knew Jak could manage the task, impossible as it sounded- then the KG fighters had a better chance.
He looked up, and pulled his hands apart and back, until he looked like he was offering to hug the nearest metal-head. The creature noticed him, and leapt- and that was when Dax brought his hands together, shoulders hunching as he clapped and spread the eco out in a pool around him.
The air wavered, and took on a blue tint. Everything began moving slowly, if at all. Dax swallowed, and straightened up from his crouch. Well. It was nice to know he could actually use one of the battle moves his siblings had talked about.
It was absurdly easy to get through the mass of metal-heads. They were aware of him; he could feel their regard, and their fury at being unable to move fast enough to catch him. In seconds, he was at Jak's side.
He dropped the time warp, and almost staggered as everything sped back up to normal speed. The metal-heads moved fast, and he spun in place to face them.
Several leapt at him at once. Or maybe they were leaping at Jak and he was just in the way. It didn't matter. Dax screamed and brought his hands up, eco flames coating his fingers, and blasted.
The metal-heads- and the ones behind them- disintegrated. In his panic he'd pulled on yellow and light eco. It was, he realized, a potent combination.
The metal-heads surrounding them backed up slightly, stopping their attacks to regard their new enemy. Dax looked around, nearly vibrating with his fear, and took several stumbling steps back. He bumped into Jak's elbow, and spun to face the eco saturate.
Jak's face twisted into a horrific scowl, and one hand closed around Dax's bicep hard enough to cut off circulation to that hand.
"Jak! Stop! You're hurting me!" Dax tried to pull Jak's hand off his arm, and couldn't. "Jak, come on, it's me! Your old pal Daxter! Jak, we don't have time for this, they're going to attack at any second!"
Jak's grip tightened, and then he let go. His eyes went very, very wide, and still, Dax couldn't see any sign of the white sclera. Jak's mouth opened, and then closed, and for a brief second he looked confused, yet- happy.
Then one of the nearest metal-heads made a noise, and Jak spun to face it. He crouched down and spread his hands.
And then he roared.
The metal-head roared back.
Dax stumbled back, hands clapped to his ears, before he realized how stupid that was. He was in the middle of a fight, he didn't have time for this!
He freed one hand, and held it flat over his head. A shield snapped into place just in time to deflect a scorpion-head. Dax broke the shield, and made the eco spread out in a circle. Several other scorpion-heads were hit, and killed.
Dax turned back to Jak, and nearly screamed. Jak was holding off three metal-heads, and very obviously couldn't see the fourth. The fourth metal-head lunged, jaws open and claws raised. Jak spun and brought his claws down in time to behead his attacker, but one of the other three scored several long slashes down Jak's back. The eco saturate arched backwards and roared.
"Jak!" Dax darted forward and pushed the three metal-heads away with a hasty shield. He turned to Jak, and reached out to press his hand against the wounds, but Jak was already spinning away and slashing at several attackers behind Dax.
The Precursor cursed, and focused on his shields. It was the only thing that gave them a fighting chance. This had been stupid. Torn was right. He was going to get himself killed, and for what? To prove a point? That Jak could fight with others? That he wasn't a helpless healer that had to be coddled and protected from the realities of war? He'd been at war since he'd been born! He'd been healing frontline fighters since he was five years old!
It had been nothing like this!
Dax screamed, and ducked a metal-head's claws. Seconds later, a blast of dark eco impacted against the metal-head's chest. The beast screeched, spasmed, and fell over, only to begin dissolving into a dark ooze, and globs of glowing, floating dark eco. The eco began shifting, moving first towards Dax, and then away. Like it was being pulled in two different directions.
The Precursor froze for one terrified second, and then threw himself backwards, right into another metal-head. It didn't matter. He shoved light eco into the beast, killing it instantly, and continued to scramble backwards. The hair on the backs of his arms and neck was standing on end; from his fear or from all of the eco in the air, he didn't know.
The world twisted, being pulled in several directions at once, then being pulled inward into a center that pulsed with all the hate, all the anger of several worlds, and then snapped back into place.
Four Dark Makers stepped forward, the crystalline planes of their faces twisted into unrelenting fury. As one, they raised their claws. As one, they turned until they were staring directly at Dax.
"No! No!" Dax jumped to the side when the first of them attacked, and felt the thing's claws slice through his robes, the flesh of his arm, and across the bone. It didn't catch, not on the cloth, the flesh, or the bone.
Dax fell to the ground and clapped his hand over his wound, screaming as loud as he could. His arm hadn't been cut off- but stars, it felt like it had!
He couldn't think until he'd called the light eco and forced it into the wound, healing what would have taken days in seconds. Then he looked up, more than a little surprised to realize he was still alive.
He didn't see the Dark Makers at first. He saw a broad back, covered in a gray, blood stained shirt. Jak. Jak was standing between him and the Dark Makers?
Dax scrambled to his feet, felt something behind him, and reacted entirely on instinct.
He jumped for Jak's shoulder, shifting into an ottsel in midair. He felt a Dark Maker's claws tear through the robes, felt his tail burn as the tip was cut off, but he himself was whole. He landed on Jak's shoulder with a bone jarring thud that drove all of his breath out of him, and dug his claws into the fabric of Jak's shirt to stay in place.
Jak didn't seem to notice or care about his new passenger. For the moment, the Dark Makers didn't seem aware that Dax had shifted form and position.
"Get 'em, Jak!" Dax pointed at the Dark Maker directly ahead of them, without any idea in the world how, exactly, Jak was going to 'get them'.
He didn't wonder long.
Jak glanced to the side, at Dax, for half a breath, gathered himself, and jumped. Straight up. He seemed to hang in the air for one breathless second, and then flipped over and came down nearly headfirst. He slammed his fist into the ground before he'd even landed.
The dark eco raced out in a ring around Jak, crackling over and through everything in its way. Dax's eyes widened at the sight of one Dark Maker, arched backward, mouth open so wide all three layers of its fangs could be seen, screaming silently in agony.
Then it exploded.
The remaining Dark Makers took a little longer, but only a little. Several moments later, they- and a fair number of the surrounding metal-heads- were dead, the only sign of their existence the globs of dark eco hanging in the air.
Jak straightened to his full height, spread his arms out to his sides, and snarled. At that, the globs of dark eco stopped moving, and then raced to Jak. They impacted into his legs and torso, absorbed in seconds. Purple eco static crackled over Jak, every inch, the miniature lighting sinking into Dax's skin. It was purified instantly, but it was still a strange, unsettling feeling.
Dax shook himself once the static storm was over, smoothing out his fur. It was matted into wet, bloodstained clumps in places, where he'd been injured and hadn't noticed. It didn't matter, though. He was alive. That was what mattered.
"You know," Dax said, turning to look into Jak's eyes. "I think, next bunch of fights? I'm going to join you exactly like this."
Jak snorted, and shifted his shoulder a little, getting used to the new weight, Dax supposed. "Uh, hope you don't mind," the Precursor added.
Jak shrugged, and looked around the battle field. He grinned slowly, the expression terrible in its ferocity.
"Well. Let's go get 'em, eh buddy?" Dax dug his claws into the surface beneath him again, and flattened his ears against his head. "Oh, stars..."
Jak stumbled towards the prison transport, though fortunately it wasn't due to any more injuries. He hadn't been marked once by the metal-heads after Dax had jumped onto his shoulder, which was a relief. The wounds from early in the fight weren't as serious as Dax had feared, or Jak was able to heal somewhat when he absorbed eco from the dead metal-heads.
Whatever the reason, the result was a good one. Jak was exhausted, though, and Dax was giving serious thought to jumping off and walking on his own. Only the bits and pieces of sharp metal- the metal-head remains, after the flesh had melted away- made him hesitate. Jak walked over the metal shards without a flinch, which was no doubt the reason his feet were so scarred.
Torn stepped forward out of a mass of bodies. Jak stopped walking and stood, glaring at the commander, his chest vibrating in a quiet, deadly growl.
"Hey, buddy," Dax said. He pushed himself into a sitting position on Jak's shoulder. "What say you head for the transport? I'll deal with Sir Rasps-A-Lot, eh?"
Jak turned his head, the better to eye Dax, and then grunted. He relaxed, very slightly, and turned back towards the prison transport. Dax smiled, and looked around for the best place to jump down.
There was a good spot. Hardly any mess around, if you didn't count the blood on the sand. Dax braced himself, and then jumped down, doing what he could to keep from digging his claws into Jak's shoulder. The eco saturate grunted, and took several steps away, and then stopped. Dax twitched one ear back in Jak's direction, and glared up at Torn.
"What's rule number one?" he asked, his tail lashing the air behind him. Stars, it hurt. He'd have to do something about that severed tip, before it got infected. "Well? C'mon, Torn! We've gone over this how many times now?"
"Who the hell are you?" Torn asked, his eyes very wide. "Where's Daxter?"
"Right here!" Dax looked between Torn and Ashelin, who'd stepped up to join her husband, and scowled. "Hey! Even I know it's a bad idea to have both commanders out on a battlefield at one time! You're not exactly replaceable, you know!"
"We're being yelled at by a talking rat," Ashelin said, her voice flat.
"I am not- Oh, stars. Hold on a second." Dax pressed his lips together into a thin line, and then stretched upwards, shifting as he went, until he was once more in elfin form. He swiped at a line of blood on his bicep, and winced when he re-opened a thin cut. Pity the wounds went from one form to the other. Pity ottsel-sized wounds grew with the body, instead of staying ottsel-sized.
Ashelin blanched and half turned away. Torn managed to look resigned and disgusted at the same time.
"Neat party trick. Where are your clothes?"
"Somewhere on the battlefield," Dax replied. "Rule number one? Anyone? Now would be nice, I'm freezing!"
"What are you even talking about?" Ashelin looked over at Dax again, and then away. "Would you please go put some pants on, at least?"
"In a moment. Just to remind everyone, tattoo-faces are to stay away from Jak. Remember now?" Dax looked down, and scowled. Wherever he stepped, he was going to put his feet down on something sharp. "Great. Just great." Jak wasn't moving, just about everyone was staring, and he could feel every injury he'd managed to earn through his stupid jaunt into the middle of a fight.
Dax gritted his teeth, and started walking. "Come on, Jak," he said. "Let's get you back home and patched up. We're going to be doing this all over again tomorrow."
The Precursor wound the last strip of bandages over his wrists, and tied the whole thing off. Samos had taken one look at him and thrown him out of Healer's Avenue, until he was "fit to be a healer, and not a patient" as the green Sage had said. Dax wasn't about to argue, since it gave him time to patch up his own wounds, as well as visit with Jak.
His wounds were easy enough to care for. As a Precursor, he was resistant to infection and disease anyways. Apart from the initial injury from the Dark Makers, the one that had nearly cost him his arm, nothing was bad enough to need a touch of eco healing, and even his arm was mostly recovered thanks to his panic during the fight. His feet were sore, and since he did have to walk on them, he nudged a few sparks of light eco down to the soles, but otherwise left them alone.
Now it was time to visit Jak. Dax wanted to look at some of those claw marks, particularly the ones on Jak's back. Metal-heads weren't known for clean living, and one of the most common ailments, apart from simply being torn up from their claws and fangs, was infection.
Dax stepped out of his room, and nodded at Sig. "Nice to see you made it to the KG lines," he said. Sig had, impossibly, incredibly, escaped without damage, except to his armor.
"I didn't," Sig replied. "Those puppies weren't anything to what metal-heads we get out in the wasteland."
"Remind me never to visit the wasteland, then," Dax said, very faintly. There were worse creatures out there?
"Got any plans for the rest of the day?" Sig asked, and stood up.
"I was thinking of picking up dinner and then visiting Jak. I want to make sure he's not hurt, after today."
"Alright. Kitchens, and then the chili pepper."
Dax followed Sig through the halls to the kitchens, which were chaotically busy, as usual. Several of the junior cooks broke off what they were working on when they saw Dax and his guard, and reacted to his quiet request for a large meal for two with delight and horror. Apparently, nothing 'appropriate' would be ready in less than an hour. Only the intervention of the head cook prevented a major case of hysterics, and Dax was able to convince the kitchen's commander that he really only wanted a plain meal, nothing fancy.
Then, with Sig laden down with several covered trays of food, they went to the old palace, and Jak's room.
Dax sighed with relief at the sight of the proper door. "I'll take the food the rest of the way in," he offered. "Thanks, Sig."
"No problem. I'll eat my grub out here. Take as long as you like, cherry."
Dax nodded, and managed to get into the room without spilling anything. "Hey, big guy," he said, softly. "I brought some dinner." He kicked the door closed behind with one foot, and winced at the jolt up and down his leg. That might not have been the smartest move he'd ever made.
Jak stood up, and took several limping steps towards the bars. Then he stopped, eyes focused on the food in Dax's arms, his expression and the set of his shoulders resigned. He glanced up at Dax briefly, and then looked down at the food again.
"You just hold on a minute, buddy. I'll get the door open and you can just eat whatever you want, okay? I just have to do a bit of juggling." Or maybe putting his burdens down was better. Dax managed to not spill anything, and then stared at the locked door. It looked much the same as the rest of the bars dividing the room, shiny and new, and of course he didn't have a key. It'd never mattered before. He could just walk through the bars.
Well, it wasn't exactly an obstacle now, either. Dax rolled his eyes and grinned at Jak, and wrapped both hands around the lock. He tickled eco into the thing, twisted, and the door opened.
"See? Easy. Now, you just hold tight, I'll get this food in there. Take a seat, get off your feet, would you? You're making me wince just looking at you."
Jak looked down at his feet, and then back up at Dax. Slowly, very slowly, he sank down to one knee, and finally sat. He didn't look comfortable, at all, but at least he wasn't standing anymore.
Dax sighed with relief, and brought the food over in two loads. He arranged everything close enough that Jak could simply reach out and take what he wanted, but the eco saturate made no move towards the food. Instead, he watched Dax, eyebrows furrowed, his ears twitching.
Dax sat down across the food from Jak, and tilted his head. "C'mon, buddy. This is for you. Aren't you hungry?" He picked up a stuffed meat pastry, and held it out. "It's still warm and everything."
Hesitantly, Jak reached over and took the pastry, and bit off a tiny corner. His eyebrows winged up in surprise, and the pastry was devoured in seconds.
"That's more like it. It's all yours, buddy." Dax gestured at the meal, and then picked up one of his favorite treats, breaded and fried vegetables. "Especially if it's got meat in it."
Jak grunted in reply, and took another meat pastry. Despite his obvious hunger, the eco saturate ate neatly, if quickly, sampling everything that was available. Most of it he liked. What he didn't seem to like happened to be Dax's favorites, which worked out quite nicely as far as Dax was concerned.
Soon enough, the food was gone. Dax shifted the empty platters and dishes to a neat pile near the door, and then moved back to Jak's side. He moved slowly, and stopped whenever Jak shifted. This was one of the only times he couldn't turn back into an ottsel to deal with his friend. For whatever reason, his healing abilities didn't work as well on the elves if he wasn't elfin himself.
"Hey, it's okay," Dax said, and crouched down. "I just want to look at those hurts you picked up. Make sure you're not getting an infection. That okay with you?" He held out one hand to Jak, and looked up at the eco saturate from beneath his bangs. "Jak?"
Jak reached out and touched the tip of one finger against Dax's hand, and then pulled away. He shifted a little, so Dax could see his back, but otherwise didn't move.
"Is that an okay? I don't want to upset you, buddy. I don't want to scare you, or hurt you. Are you sure you're okay with this?"
In answer, Jak shifted a little more, so that Dax could, if he wished, reach out and run his hand down Jak's spine. It seemed as much of an answer that Dax was going to get, and he decided he'd take it as such.
Dax shuffled closer, staying on his knees so as not to loom over his friend. "Okay, Jak. I'm going to need to see your back. I need you to take your shirt off. Think you can help me with that?"
Jak looked over his shoulder, and flattened his ears against the side of his head. As carefully as Dax had ever seen him move, he began to pull the shirt up over his head, and then stopped, growling fitfully.
"Does that hurt?" Dax reached out and took hold of the shirt's hem. "Here, I'll do most of the work. You just hold on, okay buddy?" He slowly pulled up, and helped Jak peel the shirt off. "Owch," was Dax's diagnosis. "That looks like it hurts."
Jak grunted, and looked away. The muscles in his back tensed, rippling the skin and all of the assorted scars and mostly healed wounds. Dax bit his lip with his oversized front teeth. He should have thought to do this for his friend before this. Well, now he knew better, and he'd take care of Jak's injuries after every fight, from now on.
Carefully, he reached out and placed one hand on Jak's shoulder. The eco saturate flinched, but didn't pull away. Slowly, giving Jak every chance to move away, Dax shifted his hand to the worst of the wounds, four long, bloody furrows that went from just under Jak's right shoulder blade to just above his left hip. It hadn't done anything to the spine that Dax could see, but even if some nerves had been nicked, he had ways of healing the damage.
He could have used light eco, but what was the point? Light eco was the healing equivalent of a sledgehammer, used only on the worst cases. If there was nerve damage, then yes, he would use light eco on Jak. Otherwise, he would use green.
Very gently, he called on the green eco from his eco stores, and smoothed his fingers over the furrows. Jak twitched, and sat bolt upright, but didn't move. Dax whispered meaningless reassurances under his breath as he worked, forming the eco and shifting it to the wound with light touches. He sensed tiny pockets of infection, and overwhelmed them with the eco, washing the taint out of Jak's injuries with a flood of green. He felt for nerve damage around the spine, very carefully, and found nothing. His shoulders slumped with relief, and he continued his work.
Dax finished with the worst injuries, and turned his attention to the half healed wounds crossing and re-crossing Jak's back. The welts and cuts closed over without a mark left on Jak's skin, until finally only the healed over scars remained. Dax worked a little on the scars, mostly on the tissue beneath. The scars themselves would fade, but the muscles continued to work on healing long after the skin was finished. Dax rubbed the green eco into the flesh around the scars with sweeps of his thumbs, urging the torn and aching muscles to heal without marring.
Finally there was nothing left, no injuries to tend to, on Jak's back at least. Dax straightened up and breathed out in a long sigh. It felt a little like he'd been in a healing trance, directing the eco through Jak's body.
"How do you feel now?" Dax asked, and scooted around so he could look Jak in the face. "Now we've got your back done, and we can take care of the rest of you. How does that sound?"
Jak's mouth opened, and he shook his head slightly. His gaze dropped to Dax's hands, which he'd folded in his lap. Jak's hand darted out, moving faster than Dax had expected, and he grabbed both of Dax's hands in one of his own. He lifted Dax's hands and stared at the green that remained, tinting Dax's fingers.
"Yeah, I know," Dax said, laughing a little to hide his unease. "That happens when I use eco. You should see what I look like when I call on blue eco. My hair turns purple!"
Jak looked from Dax's hands, to his face, and back. Then he let go, and held out his arm for Dax's inspection.
"Ah, I see how it is! You just want me for my healing!" Dax mock pouted, but obligingly reached out and began working on Jak's arm. He started up at the shoulder, and pulled on the eco as he went.
Scars and minor cuts, tiny infections and joints that ached in the cold and wet. Dax encouraged it all to heal, pulling on green eco to warm and sooth, to wash away infection and ease joints gone painful before their time. Then again, with the other arm, and finally Jak's chest and torso.
It was only after he was finished, when he sat back, that Dax realized that more than half of Jak's old scars and aches weren't due to metal-head claws after all, but human hands. If those hadn't been knife and needle scars, Dax was a Dark Maker.
"You've been hurt bad, haven't you?" Dax asked, and patted the back of Jak's hand. "I'll just take care of your feet now, okay?"
Jak nodded, his eyes wide and wondering as Dax shifted again, this time so he could pull Jak's foot onto his lap.
"Don't worry about holding still. Feet are ticklish, I know."
He started with the ankles, which- like Jak's hands and wrists, were slightly swollen and stiff from the cold- and worked down. He scowled a little at the lacerated soles, and used a touch of light eco to heal the cuts and infections. It left Jak with heavy calluses, which wasn't a bad thing, since he went around barefoot.
He did the same thing with Jak's other foot, which had the added injury of three torn off toenails. Dax massaged the injured toes, mixing green and light eco together and sinking it into the base of the nails. New toenails grew into place, a dull, soot black instead of the healthy ebony of the other nails.
Jak made a surprised sound, and wiggled his toes. Then he looked up at Dax, and grabbed at the Precursor's hands again. Dax laughed and let Jak capture his hands. There wasn't any harm in it, after all.
Jak stared at Dax's fingers until the green tint had gone away, and made a disappointed sound. "What?" Dax asked. "You liked the green?"
Jak looked up and nodded.
"Well, then here." Dax pulled green eco to the palm of his hand, and let it stay there, a gently glowing orb cradled in his palm. "I'll hold this as long as you want, buddy."