I look a little more artistic license than usual, this chapter. It was also such a pain to write. Originally, the first quarter of the chapter had Jak and Ashelin booking it and an automated announcement doing the work whilst they were gone. But then I figured Jak wouldn't want to dodge out on any trouble they might get into and it snowballed from there…
Sincere apologies for the wait, especially after the last few chapters got slammed out so fast. I think I needed the little break away from this story for a bit, but I'll keep going forever so long as someone is still wanting it to happen. :)
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It wasn't exactly something he'd wish on the city but damned if invasions weren't good for business.
Clive cast a mournful, tempted eye towards the display cases lining the walls of the small room. Several of them held artifacts worth much more than the case he was currently breaking into, and there were no guards whatsoever.
He'd almost, almost scrapped the plan right then and there and just helped himself. Only the knowledge that Jinx knew where he was and what he was supposed to be doing - coupled with the chain smoker's newfound man-love for Mister Jak - kept him on track.
And anyway, if his suspicions were right and the guy really was the heir to the throne? Well, being the guy who stole from his House was too dumb even for him.
People would line up to lynch him.
With a sharp clickthe lock disengaged. A heartbeat later and the lack of alarms proved his contact was worth his word. Quickly now, because this couldn't be easily lied away, he opened the case and snatched up the two items within. As he stuffed them into a bag they clacked together, making the sound unique to all precursor metal - proof that this was no showpiece replica.
For a real job, he'd have something to put back, something to put off discovery of the heist until well after he'd fenced the goods… but this? The sooner people knew about it, the better.
On his way out, he gave his contact a nod. If this panned out, he wondered… how much was a prince's gratitude worth?
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"We need to make a statement before we go." Ashelin announced.
She'd kept to herself since Torn had left to dig up the old mine blueprints, keeping her hood up over her head and holing up in the back booth. Jak didn't know if it was chance or someone had put the word out, but the general public was keeping away except for those people making reports. Outside the front door a veritable gang of underground hired guns had made themselves comfortable - very obviously keeping an unfriendly eye out for any of Veger's men.
It made Jak uncomfortable. The first men Veger had scraped together were, according to Torn, the same ones who'd been cut from the Freedom League for being untrustworthy, thuggish and generally amoral. The most pitiless, brutal enforcers of the Baron's rule, the ones who took orders like 'kill everyone in this sector' and liked it.
Ashelin hadn't arrested them - or anyone - for past crimes committed under the Baron's orders. She'd just cut them. And they'd walked from the Guard into private security - picking up promotions and better pay along the way.
But, the men and women who'd stayed behind? The ones who'd joined since? They were like the men and women working here in the Port. They were people with families, people who needed to make a living, people doing their best.
And now they were Veger's. Their blue armour, recognised even by Dark Jak as ally and not enemy, would be painted yellow. Men and women he hadn't even met, but associated with the friends/comrades/mine who'd been stationed in the Port. They'd be ordered to capture or kill him and not just him but anyone who stood by him, spoke up for him, took orders from him.
What would he do - could he do - if he was faced with putting them down to secure his own freedom? Could he shoot, knowing they might have a family relying on their income to survive? Could he hit them, hard enough to knock them out but not so hard as to cave in their skulls? He didn't know, because after the Baron and before now, he'd never needed to.
It had always been kill or be killed. Kill or be captured. Kill or be put back in that place, where the Baron - having made his dark soldier - would then focus on making him obedient.
Could he allow himself to be captured, if the alternative was violence towards the people he'd come to think of as… his?
He'd just been thinking that maybe he should stay in the desert with Ashelin, remove the problem entirely, when she spoke up.
"Something on record." She continued, swinging her legs out of the booth. "We can stand together and record a message for all the people of Haven. It'll give it more authority than anything you or I could broadcast alone and won't be as easy to ignore." She stood and pinned him with an iron look.
"This is the point of no return, Jak. Put up or shut up time. Are you ready to head a rebellion?"
Jak leaned back against the bar and met her challenge with a smirk, squashing his uncertainties.
"It's all I know." He quipped, smirk widening into a grin as she rolled her eyes at him but smiled back. Having made the decision to leave, it was like a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. For better or worse she wasn't fighting the world any more and it showed.
Standing there, softened by her civilian clothes and smiling at him, she was… less sexy, but more beautiful.
He turned away and rummaged under the bar until he felt his skin cool, coming up with a bottle of - something - and popping the cap with his thumb. That was weird. He'd thought about her (and every other female he knew) plenty of times before, so why would he blush now when she was covered up more than ever before? Weird.
"Behind the scenes is a little different." She refuted wryly. "Just ask Torn. It's hard to send people out to do what you could do. To risk their lives instead of yours. To be the one responsible, even when the inevitable clusterfucks aren't your fault. It's the hardest thing in the world, I think, especially when you care. And I know you do."
"Well, I guess we'll find out." Jak tipped his head. "I won't be short for help, in any case. The Port wouldn't be working so well if it weren't for everyone who stepped forward."
Ashelin blinked, a sliver of some emotion flickering before she moved on. Too late, Jak realised she might have thought he'd been making a dig at her own top-down approach to leadership in comparison. Hopefully, she knew him better than that.
"We should hammer out the salient points now." She breezed on. "Preferably, we should have a script completed before Torn gets back." Green eyes slid over to him. "Anything in particular you'd like to say?"
Slowly, immediately, Jak nodded.
"Yeah. 'Smatter of fact, I do."
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"My Lord?"
Veger tied his dressing robe and drew a fortifying breath. Really, could the imbeciles of the city not manage to take care of anything without his direct input? Barely out of his bath, he was feeling just a touch more regard for the ex-Lady Praxis. Her flawed attempts clearly weren't entirely her own fault.
"Yes, Severn. What is it?"
"I have a report regarding Commander Torn's movements, my Lord. You wanted to know…?"
"Only as it pertains to his loyalty, or lack thereof." Veger replied, tone mild. Taking it for the warning it was, Severn hurried on.
"Yes my Lord. I wouldn't bother you with it except, he's done something a bit odd and I don't understand why and-"
"Severn."
"My Lord. Commander Torn accessed the city archives. Specifically, the blueprints for the Stadium district, the eco mines and all access points between the two."
Veger paused. His brow lowered.
"They're running." He realised, brow rapidly descending into a scowl that twisted his face. "Like rats from a ship." He struggled for a long moment. To allow them to flee in disgrace, like the cowards they were… it was easy. It was neat. He could air their cowardice to his advantage.
But. To allow them to escape accountability, especially with the recent surge of attacks… to allow them outside of his sphere of control, when a scapegoat or two might soon be needed... that was not to his advantage. Which would serve him better, a public victory or a quiet one? Which might be turned against him, later?
He raised his voice. "Forward everything he looked at to my office. How is the conversion for my troops progressing?"
"At a good pace, my Lord, despite the recent… upset. Due to Lady, uh, Madam Praxis' personnel cuts we had a large stock of armour which could be revised and issued immediately-"
"Yes, yes. See that it's completed with all haste. Have those already outfitted assembled in the square, ready to move on my word. Issue a recall to the Port troops and any who do not bug out immediately are to be considered traitors."
"My Lord, it's, uh, it's not actually treason to-"
A cold look had his servant all but bite his tongue to silence himself.
"After the order is issued, cut off all communication with the Port." Veger continued, holding his gaze upon the man. "I want the warrants for Jak and Madam Praxis' arrests to be resolved within twenty four hours. Also, order Commander Torn to present himself for inspection, on penalty of court martial."
"Yes my Lord. A-although, sir, your troops have been facing… difficulties. In the Port. Mostly from civilian or criminal elements, but…"
Veger waited him out. The man licked his lips, but finished his wavering thought.
"My Lord. I believe that the type of… forcefulness, necessary to find and arrest the fugitives within only a day may result in more violent behaviour directed at the guard."
Slowly, Veger smiled.
"Should such a thing occur, there could be no greater sign that the Port has descended into lawlessness." He replied serenely. "A situation which, by law and duty, I must rectify with all speed." His smile widened, showing teeth as he waved a regal hand to dismiss his manservant. Severn bowed and took his leave.
Truly the life of a King was one that could be borne only by those born to it, he thought, entering his lavish sleeping chamber. Small wonder the common-born Praxis family had failed so spectacularly.
He slid between silken sheets with a pleased sigh and spared an absent thought to what he'd do to whoever next disturbed him. His last thought as he drifted into pleasant dreams was that a lot of problems could have been avoided if his original plan had not been derailed, but at least he had the pleasure of residing within the palace before he destroyed it.
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At dawn the next day, Ashelin and Jak stood before the people of the Port. They'd already recorded a message attached to a data-burst to be broadcast city-wide once they left, but Jak had insisted on personally laying the situation out for the people who'd be first in the firing line if Veger got in the mood for some retributive violence.
The troops, most of them now sporting Precursor-orange, a few defiantly blue and some - like Aconite - sporting a discrete yin/yang symbol of the House of Mar, were closest to the front. They, above all others, were risking everything by standing against Count Veger - now Governor Veger. When a late-night summons had come through for them all to fall back to the palace for re-assignment, not one of them had gone. They were also the men and women who'd volunteered for the final Stadium run. None of them knew they'd also be disguising the escape of ex-Governor Praxis.
Behind them, standing in large and small groups, sitting on exposed pipes and hanging out windows, were the civilians of the Port who'd turned the stinking industrial area into a cooperative - if cramped - little town. All were tense, expectant. Everyone knew that something big was happening.
Everyone trusted him to see them through it.
Almost every single one of the civilians was wearing orange; had painted their faces, dyed their hair or was waving a banner. Sitting on a rooftop, made safe thanks to Tess' eco-curtain line, Bolt and his little group looked ready to start cheerleading.
Jak shifted his weight, felt his spine straighten. On his shoulder, Daxter stood tall.
"Most of you know me!" Jak called into the crowd, the absolute silence broken only by the distant sound of the ocean breaking outside the shield wall. Every eye was on him.
"My name is Jak. I came to Haven city three years ago and was taken off the street by Baron Praxis' patrols. I know a lot of you have heard rumours about me and today I'm going to set the record straight."
He paused. This was personal, deep-down, dug-in, open wound personal.
But these were his people, no matter what happened. And so long as they looked to him to lead them… he owed them the truth in all things.
"I was one of hundreds of test subjects for something called the Dark Warrior Program." There was a low murmur of noise, people whispering and hushing each other, all vying to hear him.
"The Dark Warrior Program endeavoured to force our species to evolve into a more dangerous form, to better fight our enemies. The application of Dark Eco, the essence of the Metal Heads and of the Dark Makers who created them, was primary in this attempt."
Absolute silence. Everyone had heard the old loudspeaker warnings - There is a monster among you, masquerading as a man.
"I was The Program's sole survivor. I witnessed hundreds of other subjects - men, women and children - die. Many of them went insane first and that is a fate I have feared, even after I escaped and joined the Underground."
The Dark Eco inside you will eventually kill you, Jak.
It will not let you go until you slide into insanity.
More murmurs, sharper now, worried. He'd just admitted to them something they'd all been at least a little concerned about, at one point or another. He'd just admitted that even though he seemed alright now, he might not be in the future. And of course, if there was truth in one rumour…
"Fortunately," He lifted his voice above the low-grade anxiety, let it strengthen with the peace he'd found, the unashamed grit of the desert, the example of a hard but dedicated King.
"The Precursors themselves intervened. Though I will always bear the scars of Baron Praxis' experiments, they are balanced by the Precursor's blessings."
Without another word, he reached for his light. Before hundred of startled, incredulous, awed eyes, his body flashed blue-white and Light Jak stood serenely in his place.
The whispers exploded into shouts, no longer anxious but worshipful. Men and women alike clasped their hands together and sent prayers to their creators. Children cried out or gawped or tried to get closer.
Behind him, Tess - who'd never seen this form before - clapped her hands over her mouth. Ashelin, identity concealed in the depth of her hood, couldn't help but drink it in once more - so different to the Dark Jak she'd seen so often, and from the Jak she'd once assumed was too unstable to be allowed near the throne. Sig blinked, once. Captain Aconite, standing to the side rather than behind him, just kept a sharp eye out for any who might react badly. Without ever formally considering the matter, she'd decided exactly who held her ultimate loyalty and it was not Governor Veger or ex-Governor Ashelin. Opposite her, smoking in the shadows, Jinx raised a single eyebrow.
Jak concentrated and eased the form away. Onin had offered him a flask full of light eco, like what the monks carried, with something too sad to be called a smile on her face. Once this was all over, he was going to sit down with her and ask just why the monk's most powerful seer was in the city. Why Pecker had referred to her as the 'Exiled One'.
Why she wore a medallion of the Krimzon Guard, even now.
"I'm telling you this now" He spoke over their voices, which dropped away almost instantly. "Because for the past few weeks, you've trusted me to take care of you and that kind of trust deserves trust in return." He paused, gathering his thoughts.
"Everything we've done here, done together, started because one man - one of you - spoke up. He stepped forward. He volunteered, and so did his friends, and their friends, until all of us - every one of us - were working together in our own defence. And me? I was just the guy standing next to the first guy. I was just the guy who was a little bit well-known and a little bit well-connected, who wanted to help and wound up running herd on a whole bunch of selfless, hard-working people.
So I guess what I want to say, is thank you. I might be the guy standing up here in front of you, but our successes are on your shoulders."
There was a swell of spontaneous applause and shouting, hooting and cat-calling. Jak let them get it out, but raised a hand when it seemed set to keep going.
More slowly this time, silence fell.
"When this started, we had Governor Ashelin's support." He ignored the few angry or dismissive sounds that escaped the crowd. "She sent us troops and supplies!" He raised his voice again, made his words strong and irrefutable. "She did what she could, with what she could. I've become increasingly aware of just how… convoluted and difficult navigating the council can be, unless you're a dictator of the likes of Baron Praxis."
That silenced the few vocal angry. For all that they shared the same name, nobody could honestly compare Ashelin and her father and not see the stark difference in their leadership styles.
"Ashelin of the House of Praxis is a good woman, and she tried her best for all of us. This is something I truly believe. The fact that she has been declared a traitor for ordering her troops to rescue people trapped in the Stadium district is, I think, all the proof we need that she and the council held different ideas of what was important."
Dead silence now.
Jak took a deep breath. Tess had said Jinx and his crew had destroyed the flyers they found, as soon as they'd finished chasing off the unit that had delivered them. But nothing ever went un-seen.
"What some of you might not know, is that I've been declared a traitor too."
The crowd - the civilian part, at least - rioted. Jak let the sound wash over him, a not-too-small part of him basking in reliefthat their first reaction was in his defence. The soldiers at the front turned to each other, muttering quietly, but none spoke up.
It was only when the sound of people's anger turned ugly that Jak lifted a hand again for quiet. It died down, but didn't entirely go away. Out of the corner of his eye, Jak noticed someone hurry over to Jinx. Possibly demanding they jump ship before they all got arrested.
"Lord Veger has accused me of working with the late gang lord, Krew, to betray the city to the Metal Heads." He explained as dispassionately as he could. The undertone of those still talking rose a little. "From what I understand, his evidence consists of photos of me being in the general area the attack was assumed to have originated from, but I'm sure if he has anything further he'll make it known later." He was skating the edges of what was wise to tell them. He knew from Ashelin and Aconite that the guard knew there was an arrest warrant out for him and that Haven had been flooded with rumours, but the Port as a whole had been much less impacted. If he kept it from them, they could assume it was all true. If he went into it too much, it might look like he was trying to cover it up.
"There are elements of truth in his accusation. I'ma Wastelander, as many of you know. All the Wastelanders worked for Krew as smugglers. I also did some jobs for him to help make ends meet and on behalf of the Underground. Deliveries. Racing. Armed escort."
He lowered his voice, hard and ready to go up against any who doubted him.
"But I did not, ever betray my home!"
The mutterings died down. The silence was less rapt, but still not quite against him.
"I'm telling you this because I'm leaving the decision as to whether I stay or go, in your hands."
The crowd sparked again, neither angry nor afraid, but talking to and over each other. Even some of the guard shifted, trying to catch their Captain's attention. Jak saw one nudge Argo, but the man just shook his head tightly and kept his attention on the front - causing the rest of them to do the same after a few moments.
This time, the silence came back on its own. Jak could feel Ashelin's incredulous, angry stare on his back. This hadn't been part of their plan.
But, standing in front of them all, Jak just couldn't whip them into a revolutionary force so casually. He cared too damn much to risk these people - not without their express damned consent.
"If you believe in me… if you want me to… I'll stay." Every man woman and child hung on his words. "I'll stay, and I'll challenge Lord Veger to prove his accusations before the public. If he tries to make me disappear, I'll fight. And if you don't like how he's behaved… if you don't want him in power… I'll stand up to challenge him on the your behalf. I'll make the revolution that didn't happen, happen now."
Murmurs, shifting, eagerness with an edge of anxiety. He smiled, crooked but genuine, softening both his appearance and his tone.
"But I won't." He said simply. "Unless that's something you want. I'm a Wastelander and I can live easily in the Wasteland. As I said before, the Port has worked out because all of you have made it happen. You're what matters, you don't need me."
Unexpectedly, the crowd's anxiety actually rose a little. Someone pushed forward and hesitantly raised their hand.
A little awkwardly, Jak nodded at him to speak.
"Sir… Mr Jak, sir… is it true that Lord Veger is, uh, making everyone go back to their homes?"
Jak cast a look over to Aconite, who nodded firmly. Really? The idiot was still-?
He looked back to the crowd and nodded. "Apparently so." He confirmed, unable to entirely hide his own displeasure with the fact. The crowd stirred again, anxiety supplanted by anger.
"Veger didn't want to rescue us from the Stadium!" Someone at the back shouted. Jak quickly raised his hands before anger stirred the crowd into a mob. A touch at his shoulder stilled his voice and the crowd quietened again as the hooded woman who'd been standing behind him seemed to exchange a wordless conversation with their accidental leader.
Jak shrugged a shoulder and tilted his head. Ashelin squeezed his shoulder and lowered her hood with her other hand.
Shocked silence rippled through them all, broken only by a handful of horrified gasps.
"The first time I met Jak," Ashelin's voice rang out over the crowd "was when he had my back against a mob of Metal Heads at the pumping station. A complete stranger, helping a stranger. The second time I saw him was when the Metal Heads attacked the bazzaar. My men were down and Jak didn't hesitate to jump in to defend both them and the fleeing civilians. Despite being a fugitive, he risked his recapture to save lives."
Jak ducked his head. It hadn't been quite like that. But then, she wasn't exactly lying either. Just, spinning the truth for the best possible angle.
"Jak and Daxter disabled a bomb that would have destroyed all of Haven. They retrieved the Precursor stone from the Tomb of Mar and used it to power Mar's gun, before storming the nest single-handedly and killing the Metal Head leader. Those are not the actions of a traitor." She held up a data chip for all to see. "As Commander of the Freedom League, it was one of my duties to discover how our defences were penetrated in order to prevent it happening again in the future. We know for a fact and have evidence that the shield wall was disabled by a high-level Metal Head who'd snuck into the city back during the fall of the Coastal District. Analysis of Veger's circumstantial evidence implicating Jak in a minor secondary breach has proven it to be beyond flimsy, with over thirty other citizens equally possible to accuse by virtue of being in the same area before the attack. This, and other collected data, have been encrypted and stored in multiple locations and will be broadcast to all terminals automatically before the end of the day."
The crowd was stirring again, this time in relief.
"I was removed from authority" Ashelin continued, sea breeze stirring her hair and cloak. "on the back of Lord Veger's fear-mongering, removed as a part of his grab for power. I assisted Jak in his quest to stop the compromised War Factory, a task Jak took upon himself and suffered injury for, but succeeded in! A task that greatly reduced the danger within our city and, had it not been for this new enemy attacking us, would have led to a regained peace that Lord Veger wished to take credit for."
Jak turned his head to her. "Ashe?" A flick of her eyes was his only answer.
"I accept my fate." Ashelin called again, stilling the listening crowd once more. "It's my own fault for not forcing a change of system when I took over. I tried to work with a flawed, corrupted Council made up of leftovers after King Damas was illegally exiled. I thought I was doing the right thing by staying well away from my father's use of power. It was only after seeing what Jak has accomplished here, in the Port, that I realised the system I had grown up with and taken for granted was not one predisposed to serve the people. Jak has demonstrated that merit is more valuable than lineage. That it is our actions that prove our worthiness to lead, not our bloodlines."
There was a surge of cheering, one that fell away sharply as the person who'd been standing by Jinx suddenly stepped up to join them. A hiss from Jinx was ignored.
"But ain't it true" the man challenged, a sack slung over his back "that you're of a bloodline, Mister Jak? Word was, the Underground had an heir to the throne of Haven. Word is, that heir was you."
The crowd churned. Some within were absolutely blindsided, others eager, many sceptical but unsurprised at the notion. The guard, almost to a man, snapped their gazes to Aconite. She nodded again, economical and unemotional.
Jak and Ashelin exchanged another lightning-fast look. Jak stepped forward again, Ashelin falling back a step and into parade rest, going from ex-governor to staunch supporter in a heartbeat.
"It's true that King Damas is my father." He admitted to the crowd. Several people outright screamed, seemingly in joy. Jak didn't look to see if Bolt or Pike was one of them.
"But," He raised his voice to be heard. "I didn't know he was for most of my life." Eyes widened, people crowded closer. A defining moment in their lives had just gained even more drama.
"I was kidnapped as a child." It was his own turn the spin the truth, skating between the over-complicated (and nigh impossible to prove) reality and a… more digestible version.
"I don't know how, or by whom. I don't know if I escaped or was rescued, but the Underground found me wandering the streets as a toddler and Samos - the Green Sage, leader of the Underground - sent me away for my own safety. It was only more than two years after my return to Haven, after being captured and then escaping from The Program, that I discovered the truth of my origins myself."
"Why didn't you tell people?!" Someone else shouted, someone suspiciously young.
Jak shrugged.
"It didn't matter." He replied simply. "The Baron had fallen, the war was over except for the mop-up and I knew Ashelin was a good woman. There was no reason to go demanding a birthright I'd only just discovered, it would only have caused unnecessary strife." He very carefully didn't admit that he doubted he'd have been even halfway ready for such a role, having been barely capable of taking care of himself back then. The insidious contamination of the Dark Eco had been stalled by a Precursor after destroying Metal Kor - supposedly - but he hadn't really begunto be properly stable until the night he'd been caught in a Light Eco vent and had his body forcibly rewired.
And with every blessing since, with his mind clearer, the support of his friends and with his experience in the Port… well, he'd finally grown beyond the wretched live wire of fear and hatred he'd been, leaving the prison. He hadn't been ready to even think about doing something about his birthright.
He was now.
"It still doesn't matter." Ashelin stepped forward again. "Jak saved the city as a citizen, not a prince. He stepped up to help everyone trapped in the Port for the same reasons you all did. Because Haven is his home, and he wanted to take care of her people."
"So you don't want to take back the throne?" One of the soldiers asked. The filter to protect them from breathing in gaseous Dark Eco distorted their voice enough that Jak had no way of knowing if the man was suspicious or disappointed.
"I just want the Dark Makers gone, everyone safe and Veger off my back." Jak replied honestly. Maybe too honestly, judging by the discreet - and painful - pinch Ashelin gave the back of his upper arm. He hid a wince and continued.
"I've been working towards a way to defeat the Dark Makers - the ultimate source of the Metal Heads Haven has stood against for generations - for weeks. I'm almost there. Once that's done, there'll be no excuse for anyone to hold power at the end of a rifle. No excuse for martial law, and I'll go before I cause a civil war."
He took a long, slow, deep breath.
"After we clear the Stadium district today, I'll be moving to take on the Dark Maker threat directly." He said clearly. "All the evidence supporting what we have said here today will be freely distributed. What happens moving forward, will be for you all to decide - and no-one else."
Several people took exception to this. Loyalists like Aconite or dreamers like Bolt, they burst out with protestations.
"But if you're a prince-"
"Lord Veger's the traitor-"
"Why can't you stay-"
"How do we know any of this is the truth" Someone shouted above all the rest. A man at the back blinked as a sea of faces turned towards him, but rallied. "All we have are words! Words from two people who used to be criminals and are again-" He faltered under the frothing tension of the people around him, but would not be cowed.
"I'm just saying - where's the proof of any of it." He half demanded, half-pleaded. Like he wanted tobelieve, but wouldn't let want alone bend his mind. "Just. Can you prove anything?"
Jak thought of the seal his younger self had passed on to him, the discovery of which had spurred Sig to investigate his past and ultimately reunited him with his father. It was in his bag, but it only visibly reacted when he was using it as a key. Didn't it? Was there some other way he could activate it?
Scrambling to find a solution, he didn't notice when Jinx's grimy friend pulled something from his bag and threw it at his back.
Everyone else did, especially as it erupted with light in mid-air and swung up from a too-short arc to rocket around him. Startled, Jak barely had time to react before something slammed into his left forearm and wrapped itself around it with a deep clinking of precursor metal. Faint lines in the metal fluctuated in brightness until, at his clenched fist, they blazed and sprung up to form a floating screen similar to a computer's. He caught barely a glance, however, as a second object slapped into his right hand and hummed under his reflexive grip.
It was a staff, almost identical to his father's except it was half the height. Before astonished eyes the head clicked and whirred out into an eco-edged axe blade.
The wind curled through the stunned, exultant crowd.
"Damn it." Jinx muttered, as Aconite lowered the rifle she'd reflexively pointed at his friend and Ashelin stepped up to challenge the crowd.
"There's your proof." She gestured at him. "The first blade and first comm, from the time of Haven's founding. Forged by Mar, for his line to protect and coordinate the refugees we're all descended from."
It made a difference, he could tell, even to the people who'd already believed him. Because it was proof.
And if they could prove that…
"It's still your decision." He called out, making sure they would all hear him. He pushed down any surprise and uncertainty that lingered, caught off guard (again) by a history everyone knew better than he did.
It was clearer than ever to him now. He wasn't Veger. He wasn't Ashelin. This wasn't an opportunity to win, but a moment where people might be swayed despite themselves. The future was too important to be decided on the back of high emotion and royalist sentiment. They mattered to him, and so did their choices - even if they chose to do without him.
"This is your city. My ancestor founded it for a war that is almost over. Where it goes from there is for the people of today to decide. For you to decide. Now." He turned and nodded at Aconite, who gestured at her troops. They came to attention, ready to move.
"We're going to go finish what we started in the Stadium district. Then I'm going to go finish what my great-great-grandfather started.
After that? Your futures are your own. Make what you want of them."
He left the makeshift stage, Ashelin, Jinx, Aconite and Sig all falling into line in his wake. The city's ex-governor, a criminal, a soldier and an outsider, all united behind one man.
The troops and volunteers moved out on their self-imposed task amidst cheers and raised voices - and quiet speculation. Jak had made his choices.
Now they would make theirs.
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I know, I know, it's SUPER LAME especially considering the long wait and especially ESPECIALLY considering the lead-up and Ashelin pushing for them to take over and revolt…
But Jak just wouldn't. He's not the kind of guy who thinks 'the best thing I can do for people is to command them'. He insisted on everyone making the decision as free of pressure as they could (and I couldn't bloody write anything until he got his way) which is why he didn't give them a chance to make it right now.
Don't worry, biiig action in the next chapter. Veger takes the gloves off, the final decision is made as to Chubby's fate and the people of the Port have the breathing space to really make their own choices (mostly) free of influence.