A/N: Another chapter done and dusted, at last!
~ Four ~
"I've got a delivery job for you."
Those were the very words Taryn dreaded to hear – from the gruff, ex-Commander, no less. Still, she intended to hear him out, since the mission was for the good of the Underground (and, by extension, the city), meaning another step towards freeing Haven from the grip of an egomaniac. So, she plastered on her most patient smile and stared him straight in his teal eyes.
"Do tell," she said.
"That depends on how ready you are," Torn responded.
Well, if that's isn't cryptic… "For what?"
"To head over to the Stadium."
Upon hearing that, she froze, her mind turning it over, although she already knew the answer. He grumbled upon receiving a shake of the head, but didn't push her.
"When do you think it'll pass?" He sounded genuinely curious, and she gave a quizzical expression that was likely far less honest than it appeared, so he clarified. "Your fear of that place. Racing. Erol."
"It's not racing, it's…that track…" she corrected him, then followed up with a helpless answer. "I don't know…"
"Whatever it is, you're obviously still not ready. However, you're going on the other deliveries," he simply stated, pointing to a satchel of packages sat on the table. "Take these to their designated destinations." Then he handed over a list. "Here."
Upon skimming her optics across the piece of paper, she attempted some levity. "Onin's hut? Is one of the packages bird seed for Pecker?"
He gave a rough chuckle. "Likely." With a nod of the head towards the exit, without even looking at the blue-haired teen, he added, "Get going."
"Keep your pants on; I'm going!" she sighed, rolling her eyes, then turned on her heels for the door, and muttered under her breath, "Have fun at your loner party."
The original building of the Kridder Ridder Extermination Company was blown up by a Metal Bug in disguise, Kaeden, roughly six months prior, but it had since been rebuilt, just as it was. It was a relief to know that; not only were Osmo and Ximon great informants for the Underground, but they happened to be good at their jobs – particularly the latter, who rivalled Taryn in rebuilding mechanics and reworking electronics. However, the blonde's carefree nature meant he really wasn't all that keen on doing such work, especially for his father.
Upon entering the building, the first thing the sixteen year old noticed was the new layout of the interior. She hadn't visited since the ending of the Metal Bug invasion, back when Daxter worked as an exterminator. That had been their first meeting, at the construction site, where she flippantly discredited him as a waste of space.
But he proved her wrong; that much she was willing to admit. And now he was a reliable friend, one of the few in Haven City she could trust. The only trouble with thinking about the orange rodent was how it led her back to his angry comrade. She didn't want that at the moment.
Fortunately, her train of thought was interrupted by Osmo's sudden appearance. His already friendly smile broadened at seeing a familiar face and he trotted along at a quicker pace to properly greet her. "Well, this is a pleasant surprise! It's been quite some time since we last saw you."
"You can say that again. It's good to see you, too," she chuckled, her voice raised to compensate for his poor hearing, then glanced around. "Is it just you today?"
"'Fraid so," he replied, a tad disheartened. "Although my son should be back within the hour."
"That's a shame. Still…it's not a total loss. I do have a present for you." She removed a package from her shoulder bag and handed it over to the old man, who took it into his large hands.
"Thanks. You're a dear," he said, offering a beaming grin as thanks.
She shrugged. "Happy to help."
At that moment, the door slid open, and in stepped Ximon. Taryn's body swung around and she gazed at him, a smirk spreading across her lips. He appeared overjoyed to see her.
"Long time no see, Dudette!" he called in his lazy, surfer drool.
"Same. I'm delivering a package for your father," she explained, pointing towards Osmo.
"Does that mean you're only here on business? Bummer."
"Unfortunately, but that doesn't mean I can't have a little catch-up with you two. Also, while I'm here, anything need a tune-up?" She leant towards Ximon a little and spoke in a lower register, so the old man couldn't hear. "I know you don't like doing it. How about Ol' Betsy?"
"Well, uh, I hate to say this, but Betsy kinda kicked the bucket recently," the blonde responded. "Dad's a little bummed out about the whole thing. Maybe not a great idea to say it too loud, ya know."
"Oh. Damn. If you need a replacement-"
"We know who to call, but thanks."
Taryn had almost forgotten just how much she enjoyed their company. Ximon really was a sunbeam in human form, she thought, not fitting the dirty, dystopian burg at all. How does he keep so happy in this place? I could do with some lessons…
"You need to get on with the other deliveries? Or can you stay a while?" he continued.
"There's no rush," she returned. Torn didn't give me a time limit. Besides, the grumpy bastard can wait a little longer.
"Awesome! We can talk, while my old man works. I've got a killer new car to show you in our garage…"
"Sure," she agreed, following him out of the entrance and towards the mini Warp Gate in the back room of the building.
Situated in the Slums, Onin's hut was an oft-visited location for those seeking fortunes, treasure or just wanted their palms read, but it was mainly the Green Sage who visited the soothsayer. His interest in her abilities and knowledge of the Old World's ways meant he was constantly in her and Pecker's presence. The Monkaw found it somewhat of an annoyance – making it one of Samos' few redeeming qualities for Daxter.
The tent's interior consisted of claustrophobic, dingy walls, on which hung colourful tapestries – one, Pecker claimed, that belonged to one of his flocks and was offered as a gift to him almost fifty years ago. The air filled with the scent of sandalwood and florals Taryn couldn't name. She took a deep breath and inhaled the scent, enjoyed the change from petrol, dirt and stale air.
The large bowl, covered in ornate Precursor writing, sat atop Onin's head, and archaic jewellery of unknown origin adorned her wrists, ankles and throat. She waved patters in the air, pale blue energy dancing around her fingertips. The Monkaw sat in the bowl, deciphering the mystic's words. Taryn struggled to focus on the voice, distracted by the glowing patterns, but she got the gist of the conversation.
"Onin thanks you," the winged hybrid finished.
"Oh…you're welcome," the sixteen year old said in an overpolite manner, feeling a tad overwhelmed. Anything related to Precursors, relics and the Old World paradoxically both fascinated and unnerved her, so she wasn't sure what to do with herself in the presence of the old woman.
The soothsayer suddenly stilled and, mouth open, tilted her head upwards towards the roof of the hut. Taryn exchanged a bemused and slightly nervous glance with Pecker, but he merely responded with a shrug and held a little tighter onto his perch.
Fortunately for everyone's heartbeats, the mystic lowered her head and began waving her fingers in a complex manner, although it was still mere child's play for the Monkaw to translate.
"It is a vision…of the future," he casually announced, as if it was the most ordinary memo in the world to receive.
In turn, Taryn had no response to give, but "Uh-huh." It wasn't that she did or didn't believe in Onin's predictions, but the former preferred to rely on the grounded reality of working for the Underground to depose the Baron. Fulfilling a grand quest wasn't high on the list of priorities.
At least, it wasn't, until Pecker spoke once more.
"It is of your future." Expression just as fascinatingly bewildered, Pecker focused his mind on deciphering what his associate had seen. "But…it is so blurred…clouded with uncertainty…"
First they tease me, now this? "Are you two making fun of me?" she asked defensively, folding her arms and leaning on one hip, her mouth forming a pout. The disposition was full of far too much attitude, but she felt it was necessary.
"Like I would retort to that! So hokey! I have much better ways to humiliate you!" he retorted, practically ruffling his colourful feathers in indignance. The teen blinked hard and dropped her arms, at a loss for what to make of the situation abruptly thrown her way. Still, curiosity pushed her back into enquiring about what the soothsayer had seen – if anything.
"What was the vision of? Could you actually make something out?" she asked, fighting to keep the insistence from her tenor.
"It is a…small person…perhaps from a distance? Their age is unclear…although they seem to be male," Pecker responded, knowing that the blue-haired girl was already hooked. "But I am afraid that is as distinct as it appears at present."
Taryn allowed her shoulders to slump, feeling defeated. Her future had always consisted of uncertainty, even when she was little, so her brain did a complete U-turn regarding things that could change where she finally ended up in the world. But it was apparently still hopeless. The person could be anyone. Just forget about it.
"Alright," she remarked, resigning herself to not knowing. "Anyway…you're welcome for the package…I should get going…"
"Hmm…farewell," the Monkaw said, offering a wave of his feathered fingers, but he clearly remained distracted by what Onin had seen.
And the teen left, heading back towards the hideout, feeling a tad lost.
Taryn traversed a route that ran towards the Stadium – it was unclear why she chose it; perhaps her mind was still caught up in the idea of her future and her body was going the path of old memories – and slowed her steps upon realising she now stood before its entrance. Green optics stared into the long path that led towards the Garage and tracks. Her chest immediately tightened, gripping one hand with the other to fight off the shakes that had suddenly risen in her body.
It's all wrong! I should be over this! she mentally screamed, but it did no good. The sensation remained; if anything, it intensified – the last thing she needed. On top of worrying about the vision, she didn't need to add a painful racing experience. She gasped slowly and deliberately, fighting off the potential panic attack, and slowly regained enough presence to turn away from the building and stagger down the steps – almost losing her footing twice.
I'm sorry. I can't do it, yet. She detested the way the place made her feel, and who she thought of. Erol had done so many cruel things, but this particular feat was personal. I'm still just a coward, Tess.
Taryn completely lost her nerve. Hitting the bottom of the steps, after what felt like a lifetime, she fled across the pavement, dizzy, disorientated and fighting to breathe.
Tess. The only woman who could help now.
Please be at the Hip Hog. Please.
Alarm scattered across the blonde's countenance at the appearance of her friend; it wasn't like the latter to keep such a silly promise to visit The Hip Hog more often, yet what more worried Tess was the weird expression on Taryn's face. Something was very wrong.
I think I can guess, the typically bubbly barmaid thought, so moved away from the bar, managed to convince a co-worker to cover her shift, and hurried over to assist the sixteen year old. "Come on; there's a room in the back we can talk."
"Thanks," Taryn somehow managed to squeak, before the blonde gripped the former's shoulders and led the younger girl away from the main bar and through a door that led into the back. Tess closed the door behind them, then offered a seat on a wooden bench against the wall. The blue-haired girl flopped down, exhausted from mild hysteria, and pressed her face into her hands.
"No, no…lean your head right over and calm down," came the other female's order, even going as far as pushing Taryn's head down between her legs. The latter focused all her strength on breathing regularly and unclogging her dizzy brain. All too soon, the disorientation faded, and she slowly raised her head.
"Talk to me," Tess said firmly, yet gently enough so as to not place more pressure on her friend.
"I-I went to the Stadium just now," the sixteen year old spoke hurriedly. She felt ashamed and couldn't keep eye contact, so buried her face back into her hands, but the blonde pulled them off.
"Nuh-uh. We're going to do this properly."
Uh-oh. When Tess was in her "big sister" mode, that meant Taryn couldn't hide. It was an entertaining notion; in spite of herself, the latter let out a nervous chuckle
"That's more like it! So, what made you go there? Why now?"
"I have no idea…I suppose I just passed by and it was there. I just…I wanted to try…"
"And it got too much, I take it?"
"I couldn't even get through the entrance."
"Nobody's telling you when to push past this. You'll do it when you're ready."
"What if I'm never ready?" the younger girl almost shouted, tempted to rise to her feet and flip tables or tear up the room. Yet she didn't, thankfully, simply sitting and watching the blonde's face for some desperately needed answers. However, before she could even think to continue moping and ranting, Tess pitched forward, capturing the blue-haired teen in an awkward, one-armed hug.
"You'll regain your strength one day." The barmaid spoke gently, although it was with an air of determination. Whenever one of her allies fell down, it was her job to help them back up; always had been.
"I hope so," Taryn mumbled.
The blonde removed herself and leant back, stood directly in front of the sixteen year old. "Keep hoping and it'll happen."
She wouldn't realise until later just how much Taryn would take those words to heart.
A/N: Woooo…Onin had a vision of Taryn. I hope you have fun guessing what it refers to. 8)