Here it is! Chapter four is here! I am sorry to say though, that updates will be coming out much slower because school is starting for me, and that doesn't leave me with much time to write the new chapters. But I will not stop the story! There will be updates, but not so many in such a short period of time...
Jak belongs to Naughty Dog Inc.
Trump belongs to wolfykhjak (me).
Yeah! It is that time we all know and love... Summary:
Torn and the rest of gang are finally brought into the picture, but with a twist. Jak has been gone for almost eleven hours now, but when he shows, it is not a pretty sight.
This chapter is rated Teen, also because of Torn and Daxter. Warning, there is language in the opening line for anyone that would be surprised by it.
REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW!
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4. Troubles
Who invented paperwork? Really, what son of a bitch did? Torn was about ready to kill the guy who had. Torn thought as he hunched over his large oval table in the new Freedom League Headquarters with a pen in his hand. Why did there always have to be paperwork, and why had he wanted to be the Head of the Freedom League? After all, it wasn't anything like how the underground had been. Then it had been so much more… interesting. He had at least gotten to see some action then. No wonder Ashelin had wanted to be Governor instead of this. This job just plain sucked. Oh great, now his hand was going numb from so much of the horrid stuff.
Torn put his pen down on the table and lifted his hand to his back. He took his dagger out of its sheath and started to bring the dagger towards to huge stack of paper work with a threatening glare. As Torn's blade inched closer to the stack a woman walked in. She looked to be about five feet and ten inches tall and to be about twenty-one years of age, but that was just a guess after all. She had short, dark purple hair that was pulled back in a bun with two wooden chopsticks in it that had the word fire at the end of each one. Her eyes were a piercing dark, almost violet, grey. The woman had two tear drop shaped tattoos on her right check, and the tips of her long ears were black with their numerous piercing on each ear.
Torn never planned to ask her about them.
Her chest was relatively small, but any girl's chest would appear flat compared to, Torn's girlfriend, Ashelin's own. Them woman's legs were long and lean. Her body was very tan, though it used to be tanner. Not counting the numerous scars she had running down her body from past battles. She wore a turquoise – blue shirt with a hood that had sleeves that went down to her elbow. It showed her lower stomach. On her right arm she wore a warm grey arm warmer that had a protective board of light, silver metal on the outside of her arm. On her left arm was a large dark grey glove. She wore a short pair of kaki shorts with a large, brown belt hanging over them on her waist. The shorts were very rugged and dirty. On each of her two long legs was a leather sheath that held two rather large daggers, like the one he was using to threaten the stack of papers. She wore a pair of navy blue, laced boots that went up to her knee. On her left leg there were two bandages hanging on loosely. It was hard to believe that this woman had been Freedom League's current secretary for three years. Though, it was not so hard to believe that she had been working in the field during her Underground years. She had been working in the Underground back when she was fourteen until the day it was put down.
The woman gave a confused look when she saw her current, and former, Boss. Then again, this had even been a normal sight back when he had been the back-up Head for the Underground, but there hadn't been nearly this much paperwork back then.
"The paperwork threatening your sanity again, Sir?" the purple haired woman asked with a mocking tone in her voice and raised an eyebrow. It was quite obvious that she'd meant to show it, too.
"What is it, Trump," the annoyed man stated as he put his dagger back into its sheath on his back.
"Seven people have come in today registering complaints about a green, blonde haired man ran them over on a bike zoomer yelling,' Emergency! Emergency! Get out of the way!' Though they only got a few bruises they wanted something to be done about the said man. Though, Jak seems to making sure that the people don't get too soft. I owe him for that," Trump stated as she stared down at her Boss until he looked down. She never got tired of that, no matter all the years she had known the serious man.
"Jak…" Torn grumbled angrily as he lowered his gaze to the floor from Trump staring at him so intensely. Why did she have to love doing that? It always pissed him off. Then again, they were as close as brother and sister. The only thing separating them from being actual siblings, by the way they acted, was their blood.
Torn thought that Ashelin was the toughest of all of the girls that had been in the War. He was beginning to think to other woman would ever be as tough as her…
"Yeah, the guy that knocked me off of my number one spot in the Underground to number two. Never got him back for that," Trump said with a small hint of annoyed in her voice. But, the guy wasn't too decent so she couldn't hate him too much for it. She hated decent. She could still be annoyed by it though. That wasn't the same as hating the guy. It was close, but it wasn't the same thing.
"Still holding a grudge, huh?" Torn said smugly, well as smug like Torn could be. When he saw her give a small half smile he decided it was time to get serious again, "Is that all?"
"No, Sir, I have a favor to ask of you," Trump had decided to get serious again too it sounded like. She must have something on her mind.
"What is it?"
"I want to go back on the field."
"What? You were the one who said you wanted to be the secretary here. Why the sudden change in heart?" The suddenly stone-faced man inquired.
"I'm not allowed to change my mind, Sir? I have behind that stupid desk for three years. I am damn sick of it. I miss getting to use my daggers, and I want a rematch, Sir," The purple haired woman said as she spun away from the door, with a glint in her eye from talk of doing battle again.
"Wait. With whom?"
"Jak."
"What? Why!?" Torn asked, surprised that Trump wanted to do this again. She had lost her place from the daily head count for number one in the Underground because of Jak. It had been Jak's Metal Head of six thousand, and five hundred and seventy-three. Trump had gotten, six thousand, five hundred and seventy-one. That had included Jak using his Dark Jak and Light Jak powers. Trump had used only her two daggers. It had bugged Trump for the longest time, and it seemed that it still annoyed her. This would end badly, and Torn knew that she knew it too. Torn just didn't know who it would end badly for. Trump felt the same way. It would be a stupid thing to do. She would probably get killed.
She wanted to do it anyway.
Figures.
"Fine. You can go back on the field. We could use someone who is actually in the same range as Jak. We can't keep on calling him in on every little thing."
"That never stopped you from doing it before, Sir. And good. I look forward to it. Tomorrow I will come in for my first mission, and Sir, don't go easy on me. I'm no rookie, you haven't seen me in action for three years," with that said Trump turned away and headed out the door. How wonderful it felt to be back on the fighting side! Trump hadn't realized something until during those three horrid years behind that desk. She hated peace. It was so…
Boring.
After Torn had given his final answer he saw something in Trump's cold, grey eyes. It was the eyes of that savage fourteen year old with no family and nowhere to go he had met all those years ago. She was herself, she was her nickname again. And Trump hadn't even gotten on the field yet.
She was Trump again. The Trumpet of Death.
Now, Torn felt nothing for Trump beside brotherly love, and Trump only felt sisterly love for Torn. He loved Ashelin, and that would never change. He had known Trump since she had been a savage fourteen year old like he had been. They really were like brother and sister. And that was how it would stay. Torn loved Ashelin, and he knew that Trump had her own boy too. Though he could never remember his name.
Oh well.
Torn grabbed his communicator off of his side belt. He planned to give Jak quite a earful, but when he dialed in Jak's communicator's number he didn't get Jak. He got the talking rat instead.
Great.
"Rat, what are you doing with Jak's communicator? Give it to him. Now," Torn stated angrily. He really hated the talking rodent. He hadn't even known that he could hate anything so much until that rat had showed up. And that was saying something for Torn.
"As a matter of a fact, Tattooed Wonder, he isn't here," the Ottsel said smugly while using Torn's hated name.
"Well, where is he?" the annoyed man said through gritted teeth.
"Um… He is doing… Jak things," Daxter said suspiciously.
"What the Hell does that mean?"
"Think about it, idiot. It is real obvious."
"Just tell me rat."
"I can't," Daxter said as he looked down.
"Why not?" the very annoyed man said through heavily gritted teeth now.
"Jak said I couldn't. And I plan to keep my word."
"Tell me Rat! Now!"
"Think. What is a Jak thing?"
"I don't have time for this."
"Well, too damn bad!"
"Fine. Do you at least know where he is?"
"NO! Damn it, Torn! It is a Jak thing for crying out loud! Why does Jak ever have an episode? Think!"
He really hated this talking rat. Daxter wasn't with him. And Daxter didn't know where Jak was at the moment. That meant something was up. Those two were always together, Torn didn't know why, and he didn't want to know why either. Jak had been yelling to civilians that there was an emergency and to get out of the way. But there hadn't been an emergency in that sector. Jak hadn't shown up at the Headquarters yet for work. The only thing that Torn could think of was…
"Oh."
"Took you long enough, Pretty Boy."
Jak had been yelling that there was an emergency through the streets on a zoomer on ground level. He had been yelling that because he was the emergency. It seemed that Jak had narrowed things down into two possible outcomes. One, some random people get a bruise or two and he gets out of the city without killing anyone in the process. Or, two, him turning while in Haven's walls. And killing off half of city's population of twenty-one thousand people.
"How long ago was that?"
"That's the thing that's really worrying me. He has been gone for five hours! Five! Do you know how off that is? He has never been like that for so long! And he has turned plenty of times. Trust me, I've there, almost, every time."
This wasn't good. Jak had never been in that form so long. And Daxter was worried about Jak in that form. Daxter had said it himself; he had seen the transformation thousands of times. If it was worrying it him now, after all he had seen, then something was definitely very wrong.
"Where are you right now, Rat?"
"At the Naughty Ottsel."
"Did Jak drop you off there before he left the City?"
"No, I walked here around eleven this morning," that made sense; it was about five o'clock now.
"Where did you leave from?"
"Kiera's garage."
"Why were you and Jak there?" Yes, he was finally getting somewhere with the rodent.
"I can't tell you. Kiera has too," so much for getting somewhere.
"Why?" Torn asked, starting to lose his patience.
"Jak said it was the thing to do. Like I said. I'm not going back on my word."
"Okay, is anyone there at the bar?"
"Uh, customer wise, no. Business has been extremely slow today from the snow. Barely anyone's leaving their homes."
"No, anyone we know?"
"Yeah, actually, Tess, Ashelin, Samos, and even Sig are here. You and Kiera are the only ones missing … I'll ask him, woman! Ashelin wants you to come down," Daxter said with annoyance thick in his voice from Torn's girlfriend.
Nice one, Ashelin, Torn thought as a smug smile crept up the Freedom League Head's face.
"Wait. Sig is there? Why isn't he in Spargus?" Torn asked with mild confusion as the smile quickly disappeared. Why wasn't the Wastelander back in Spargus, ruling the city? Torn watched the communicator as he saw the Ottsel turn his head in a western direction.
"… He says he'll explain it to everyone as soon as you and Kiera come down to the Bar. So, come down! I'm a tired of waiting, and I want to know why the Hell he is here!" Daxter yelled into the communicator with an extremely obnoxious look on his face.
"Fine, I'm coming down now," Torn, said. He shut off the communicator immediately, tired of seeing and hearing the obnoxious rodent. Torn returned his communicator to his side belt, he turned towards the door and headed up the ramp to the automatic door at the top. When Torn's body was in the door's censor range it opened with a swish. As he walked out he heard a small chuckle from behind the desk on his left side.
It was Trump, sitting behind the desk, which had given the small chuckle. He turned his head to see the soon to be former-secretary looking at a tall pile of papers. Onto of the pile was a small, orange note on top with something written on it. From where Torn was standing he could read the note. It stated the following:
To: Torn, I know you love this stuff! It is a present! Love, Trump!
Oh no. By the Precursors! Would it ever end? More God damned paper work. So, that's why Trump had given a small giggle when he had passed. Her present for leaving the desk to Torn was more damned paperwork! He knew that she had seen him read the note, so she gave another small chuckle as Torn reached the door and walked out into the snow.
Snow. Sucks.
Torn stomped through the thick layer of snow until he got to a small parking lot. He went up to a bike zoomer painted a dark blue and white with the Freedom League's symbol on both sides of the small craft. He brushed off the thin layer of snow off of it. When Torn didn't hear the usual noises that surrounded the Headquarters he took a moment and looked around. The rat had been right. Barely anyone was out today with the snow. Torn only saw only a couple of people walking around instead of the usual thousands. People always seemed to walk around here, where did all those people go anyway? Or did they just walk around the city aimlessly, waiting for someone to come and attack them? No, that was stupid. Well, the fewer the people, the less the traffic.
Torn shook his head and got on his zoomer and shifted into the second flight zone. He didn't even have to focus on the road in front of him there were so little zoomers surrounding him. So this left Torn able to let his mind wonder until he got to the bar and see everyone, well not counting Jak. This thought snapped him out of his wondering thoughts and back into reality. Remembering that he wasn't heading down to the Naughty Ottsel for a few drinks with old friends, but rather in worry for Jak's disappearance. After only a few minutes after snapping back into reality did Torn arrive at the bar.
He pulled his zoomer into a stop position by the bar door and lowered his vehicle into the ground level and jumped off once there. Torn noticed three other zoomers surrounding his own, but Torn recognized them all as his friends' zoomers. Torn walked up to the door of the bar as it opened with a swish.
When Torn walked into the Naughty Ottsel he was welcomed by fake smiles and worried eyes from all of his close friends. Even Sig showed his worry on their friend's lack of reappearance through his good eye. Torn saw Daxter sitting on the bar's long table with a purple cup in his hands, but it was obvious that the animal was in a different world as he stared into the amber liquid in his cup. Once Tess had given her share of fake smiles she gave her lover a nervous, worried glance. Ashelin was sitting on a bar stool with a similar cup by her right hand. Samos and Sig were sitting on either side of her sitting on similar stools, with a cup in hand as well.
The rat was the first to speak.
"Hey, Tattooed Wonder. That was mighty quick, we just finished calling Kiera. She is supposed to be down here in a few," Daxter stated, without lifting his head to give the man a cocky in the eyes. No, he just kept a steady watch on his drink.
"Yeah, well there is no traffic cause of the snow… So Sig, what are you doin' up in Haven?" Torn asked as he walked up to the bar table and Tess slid a drink down the table towards him as he sat on a stool next to Sig. He caught the cup with ease. The heavily armored Wastelander turned towards the much smaller man to give his answer.
"I thought Chillipepper told ya? I'm not telling anyone until Kiera shows up. I don't like repeatin' myself," Sig answered with a stern sound in his voice. He seemed to have told everyone this answer a few times by how annoyed he was to say it again.
"Okay then. So why are we all down here?" Torn asked as he lifted his cup up to his lips to take a sip. Ashelin was the one who gave him his answer.
"We all know that this place is a key spot in Jak's mind. He is likely to show up here when he decides to grace us with his presence. Also, when he changes back he will figure that we would all go down to one place, and Daxter's Bar is the most likely one," The red head said sourly.
"Yes, young Jak's disappearance is very worrisome. If the Council finds out about this there could be much trouble for Jak. I am anxious to hear my daughter's explanation for Jak's troubles," The old Sage said after Ashelin with a worried look on his face.
"What? Jak is missing!? Why didn't you people tell me this earlier? Why didn't you tell me this when you called me? I could have been here in no time flat!" a stranger yelled in a high voice by the door. Everyone turned to the door, even Daxter looked up from his drink to see whom it was.
It was Kiera.
"Ah, Kiera, nice of you to join us. Care to explain our situation to us? Daxter says that Jak told him to let you explain what is happening to him. Well? Star explaining," Torn said hotly. He wanted answers. He wanted the now, he was sick of this guessing game.
"Wait. What? Tell me what you know and I'll do my best," Kiera said as she looked down at the floor as she walked up to the bar and sat down. Yeah, she definitely knew something. Everyone could hear it in her voice.
"Daxter, tell her what you told us," Ashelin ordered the Ottsel as he lowered his head back down and his eyes glazed over.
"Okay," Daxter stated as he continued to stare into his cup.
"What happened?" the mechanic asked as she looked up at Daxter.
"Well, I don't know what happened while you and Jak were in the garage, you'll have to tell us all that part. I'll start from when he came out of the garage door. Jak came out of the door gripping the side of the wall to keep himself stable, I guess. Dark Eco was crackling off of his body. I took his pant leg and helped guide him to the door while carrying that stuff," Daxter paused to point his thumb to the end of the table where a bomber jacket, a small leather jacket, and Jak's shoulder guard lay.
"Wait, why weren't you hurt by the Dark Eco coming off of his body?" Kiera asked the Ottsel, eyes wide.
"I don't really know. I guess I just have thick skin with the stuff from so much over exposure. But, I don't really know. Anyways, I helped Jak back to his zoomer and he told me to not to tell anything else, but to let Kiera explain everything else and to go to the Naughty Ottsel. Before I could sneak onto the zoomer he put it into accelerate on ground level and left. The whole while yelling to people to get out of the way, that it was an emergency. And the rest you all know," the Ottsel stated as he ended his small story. He didn't tell them about what had happened last night and that he knew why Jak had suddenly had needed to transform. That was Kiera's job, not his.
He knew that Jak didn't want Daxter to say anything at all, but he felt he had to say something to everyone. And it was better for him to tell them of one of the kinder things.
"Well, that's Daxter's story. Can you fill in the potholes, Kiera?" her father asked her in a kind voice. Kiera began her own story with a stronger voice, but her voice faltered when she got to the moment after she had interrogated Jak about his back.
"You see, uh, his back was covered in scars. But the weren't normal scars! They were a purple, blue color and they were pulsing like they were alive. And the weirdest part about them was that they weren't just shapes, the scars, they were words. The said, 'The Dark Angel of All That Was, Is, and Will Be,' and then I did something really stupid. I went up to his back and touched them.
"But, the thing is, that nothing happened to me. Everything happened to Jak. He collapsed onto the floor and began to writhe in pain on the floor from me just touching the scars. I tried to help him up but he just yelled at me to hide and to get behind the curtain. His voice was Dark's I think. I ran behind there, and when I came out again, a few moments later, he was gone… A-a-and that's all I know," The woman stuttered as her story cam to its conclusion. Everyone just sat there blinking for a while, even Daxter. No one said anything for the rest of the night. They were all trying to make sense of what Kiera had told them. But everything made sense to Daxter. Though he remained silent as well, a rare moment for Daxter.
Hours passed while they all sat there in silence, none could find the right words; or rather they didn't want to. Clock began to move at a breakneck speed. It had gone from five o'clock in the afternoon to eleven at night.
Jak had been gone for almost eleven hours, now. In his Dark form no less.
The suffocating, silence was finally broken by a loud thud and a rasping breath by the door of the bar. Everyone's eyes' widened in horror, and each gave a loud gasp from the sight that they saw.
It was Jak.
He was leaning against the wall covered in deep scarlet blood from the face down. There was still stray Dark Eco bolts coming off of him. They thought it wasn't his blood covering his body, rather his victims'. But it was, there were glints of Dark eco shimmering in it.
He gave a weak smile and muttered a small greeting, "Hey guys," With that the broken hero collapsed onto the floor, breathing hard, and closed his eyes slowly.
You may ask why it had took Jak so long to destroy only a few Metalheads? That task had taken him only an hour or two for him to complete. The rest of those nine hours though, he was fighting with, and against, himself.
Mentally and physically.
Everyone ran from their chairs, causing the chairs to fall over. Daxter beating them all by far, with a break neck speed. But, one person didn't run to the injured hero's aid.
Who? Why it was the very person that was responsible for this poor man's pain.
Kiera.
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Woah, that was definitely the longest chapter yet, it beat chapter three by two full pages on Word. What do you think of me working in my small OC character Trump in there? I created her before this story even existed in my brain, but she is only a Havenite in this story. Otherwise she isn't even in the same universe as Jak. Though, to keep this a true Jak story, she won't show up in the story too much, just maybe another chapter or two at some point in this story. Oh, and Light Jak helped on this one!
Me: That was a good idea, not having me do a chapter on the whole battle scene.
Light Jak: Well, that just isn't pleasant. Even for teen.
Me: Also, I just suck at writing gore scenes, and it would have left a lot of plot and character potholes in the story.
Dark Jak: Ahhh... I wanted gore! Well, at least I got my way at the end.
Jak: Wait a minute! What do you mean by physically in this?
Me: Uhhh... you'll just have to wait and see, Jak.
Dark Jak: I better get the cookie this time.
Me: No. Light Jak gets it today. He is the one that helped.
Light Jak: Haha, I got it, Spas!
Dark Jak: No I want it! Grrr--
Gol: NO I WANT IT!
Me: Gol?! What the heck are you doing here?
Gol: I am attracted to sugar, thats why! Its almost better than Dark Eco!
Me: Dude, did your eye just twitch?
Gol: What of it?!
Me: Well, that explains why you are so hyper... Light Jak?
Light Jak: Yeah?
Me: I suggest you run. Gol wants that cookie, and who knows what he will do for it... Run MAN! His eye just twitched again! RUN! HE IS GOING TO EET JOO!
Review.