Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own the Jak and Daxter games, or the characters. I do own Tarukane and the storyline.

KKC: Wow... I didn't know this fic would be so widely accepted. Heh, here's to hoping I get at least forty reviews for this story *raises glass of Sprite*

Grimoire: *muttering under breath* which would translate to at least two reviews per chapter.

KKC: Well, at least it's not too hard a goal, after comparing it to Cumulus academy. ^-^

Grimoire: Don't even mention that title.

KKC: Well, I happen to be on a roll with that fic, so bug off.

Grimoire: At least it'll be over soon...

KKC: Not for another ten or so chapters, my dear muse.

Grimoire: Dammit! .

Oh, if only she had looked at the fine print before signing on.

That was all that went through her head as Torn informed her of the details concluding this "job"; death wish was more like it. The Krimzon Guard commander, who held all the authority and power to clear her record and debt, wanted her to chase down a suspected serial killer. Oh, what joy, what rapture. What, did he also want her to stand on her head with her thumb up her ass and sing "Yankee Doodle" while jugging down a keg of Tabasco sauce?

Maybe her criminal record wasn't worth all this - she was actually rather proud of it, as well as fond of her life - but her huge debt, over three million, couldn't be ignored. That was the entire reason she never had a place to live; stay in one place too long and the bank would come knocking at your door.

But, it was the name of said killer that got her attention: Kai Morgan. The Kai Morgan; the Kai Morgan who owned at least twelve top-class racing bikes, the Kai Morgan that sponsored every race at the stadium, the Kai Morgan that had once, in desperation, hired her to race for him when his own rider got mixed up in a bar-room brawl and broke his leg. Tarukane's cigarette (she had lit a new one after Torn had fatally wounded the first, which had been well on its way out.) hung from her lip once more as she just looked at him in surprise, but she quickly regained her composure and, holding the smoking stick of doom in between her fingers, asked, "And why do you need me to carry this little project of yours out?"

Torn looked a bit miffed at the interruption, and, as if deciding whether or not the hired woman was worth the trouble, merely stated, "It's not your place to ask."

"No, really, I'm interested. If it was a good enough reason to almost kill me, then I think I should know." She smirked, enjoying the look on Torn's tattoed face.

"Kai knows about every guard that works for me; it's how he's been able to slip away - through blackmail and bribery."

"So you went looking for some fresh meat." A pair of purple eyes flickered up towards Torn, contempt welled up inside the narrowed pupils, and Taru took a drag from her cigarette before stomping it out and getting up from her seat. "Well, might as well get this hell-hole mission done with. Besides bringing home a red-handed corrupt businessman, want me to drag back a couple of politicians too? I hear they're two for one this year, with the baron gone." The wry joke fell on deaf ears; however, as the steel door of Torn's office flew open, slamming against the wall with a loud thunk, and another woman stormed in.

Tarukane recognized her from the many newspaper articles that were always on display at the street carts. Red dreadlocks, green eyes, the exotic- looking face; no doubt, this was the new governor Ashelin. She had a fairly large pistol strapped to her hip, and looked ready to whip it out and shoot anyone who managed to get in her way. Ashelin stomped past Tarukane, almost shoving the racer out of the way as she ferociously glared at Torn, who seemed to be shrinking in his seat. "What the hell do you think you're doing, trusting a no-good, drug-addicted, higher-than-a-kite, criminal to catch Kai?!"

Now that stung.

In fact, Tarukane had never bothered to smoke anything other than cigarettes (which were probably more addicting and dangerous than anything out there anyways); and no good? Hell, she was the best damn racer in town - not that it made any difference to her bank credit. But a criminal, now that was below the belt.

Deciding to make the good governess choke on her own words, Tarukane cleared her throat and asked, "Just what 'criminal' might you possibly be talking about, ma'am?" Ashelin whirled around, glaring at the racer with narrowed eyes. "Some old, down-and-out racer called Tarukane Lucas. Her father used to be a pretty important business man around here, until he suddenly showed up with a bullet through the head."

Oh God, if only there were words to describe Torn's face at the moment. He looked about ready to either laugh or scream, furiously hoping Taru wouldn't try anything stupid with Ashelin in such close range. So far, the racer was keeping her cool, and Torn actually thought she would be able to pull off the innocent act until his boss left. But Ashelin couldn't stop there - oh no. Once she was steadily focused on something, it was a miracle that shook her from her cause.

"In fact, some say Tarukane signed a deal with a rival company, took her own father out of the picture, then took over. But the deal bombed, and she took to the streets."

There was no way Taru could resist the bait, the dialogue was just set up too perfectly. Any moment now and she would say it; mention that forbidden topic in Ashelin's presence.

"Sounds kind of like how the Baron lost control, wouldn't you think?"

Oh, holy Yakkow shit.

Ashelin exploded, literally. In just a second the pistol was out of its holster, her finger hovering over the trigger, and it was shoved in Tarukane's face. From outside, both Jak and Daxter halted their game of BlackJack, letting the cards fall onto the table as they both rushed to the open door of Torn's office, ready to break up the seemingly unavoidable cat fight that was stirring between the two women.

All silent; Tarukane had a good hunch that if anyone spoke now, she would end up with Ashelin's bullet embedding itself in her skull. The standoff continued on for a few tense moments, until, in a dangerously low voice, the governess asked, "And just who do you think you are?"

"Nobody special, really. Just some old, down-and-out racer."

God, if the tension in the room was suffocating before, now it practically crushed the life out of everyone present. All too aware of Ashelin's finger hovering over the trigger of her gun, Torn hastily tried to calm the two women down before they riddled his entire office, hell, the entire palace, with bullets.

Something had to break; and that something was Daxter. The ottsel, totally ignoring Jak's pleading look to not interfere, boldly trotted forwards and jumped up on Torn's desk, positioning himself between the females. Slicking his bright orange fur with one gloved paw, he casually leaned against Tarukane's shoulder and, in an off-hand tone, mentioned, "So... I take it you two don't get along very well, do you?"

The next moment has, for all historical purposes, to be recorded. For this moment was the first, and last time, the two radically different women actually agreed. In less time it had taken Ashelin to draw her pistol from its holster, the ottsel was backhanded across the desk, by both the governer and Taru. Rubbing his furry cheek and glaring, Daxter stumbled back to his feet and scurried back over to Jak, flipping both Tarukane and Ashelin the birdie once he was comfortably balanced on his compadre's shoulder.

"Sheesh, forget I asked. Y'know, you two really need to learn how to communicate; you're conversationally inept."

The ottsel's reply was a rather rude hand gesture from the racer; the likes of which made the middle finger pale in comparison. Ashelin merely gave a warning glance to Daxter, as did Torn and Jak, and the rodent cringed under their hard glares.

The second hand on the clock ticked by in its constant circle, impossibly loud in the small room. But, as the elves inside soon realized, it wasn't a clock. Ashelin wheeled around; slipping the pistol back into its holster seconds before a Krimzon guard ran into the room, his facemask and most of the heavier armor off in the heat, tattooed brow sweating.

"M-Ma'am! I just heard from a squadron F-7 that a cargo ship has been hijacked, and the criminals are holding the crew hostage!"

Torn swore, angrily tapping his fingers on his cluttered desk; Ashelin ran out of his office, grabbing the young Guard by the shoulder and dragging him down the hall with her.

"Torn, tell squad A-2 that I need them down at the docks pronto! I'll be waiting for them there."

Torn was about to reply with a quick, "yes, ma'am!", but the governess had already gone. Within a matter of seconds, the sound of a Krimzon Guard tank engine could be heard revving up, and they silently watched as it flew up and away from the castle. As if still wary that his boss could hear him, Torn quietly relayed his orders.

"Kai is looking for promising racers to win him money and respect, so I need you to get into his inner ring." With that, Torn tossed Taru a small electronic ID, with a false name, Taru's picture, and other essential data about her "past". With scorn, Tarukane read the name on the ID.

"Traci Smith? What is this, the witness protection program?" Torn shrugged, and passed her a set of keys, which Taru greedily snatched from his hands. "I didn't come up with the name - and as far as I'm concerned, that's not my problem."

"Still, Traci? Try and be bit more imaginative, why don't ya?"

"Are you going to get this done, or are you going to gripe over a false name?" The KG commander's voice had an annoyed edge to it - most likely because the racer had been mouthing off to "her lady" Ashelin - and Taru meekly slipped the false ID into her pocket, along with the zoomer keys. "Consider me outta here."

"Good. But, if you try to bail, and I'm serious about this, you can kiss that zoomer of yours we confiscated good-bye." Torn's face was totally serious, and there was no trace of sympathy among his tattooed brow. Taru inwardly cringed, Torn was not a person someone wanted to mess with, and humbly scurried out the office door, keys clutched in her hand. Daxter and Jak, until now wisely silent, merely watched her go; Jak turned to Torn with a questioning look in his blue eyes, but it seemed the commander had read Jak's mind. "Jak, follow her and tell me if she acts up."

Daxter, still not quite over the insanity of the last time he had been following the street racer, jumped down from his spot on his elf-friend's shoulder. "What?! I've barely stopped losing my lunch from the first trip, and now you're sending me on another? I object!" The ottsel punched his fist into his hand, as if to strengthen the statement, but was answered with a glare from both Torn and Jak.

"To tell the truth, I think it's a good idea. We don't know if we can really trust Taru; she isn't someone who'd do anything without some type of reward."

"Et tu, Brutus?" Daxter looked up at his childhood friend, a tinge of betrayal slipping into his sarcastic comment. Jak apologetically smiled and hoisted the weasel onto his shoulder before nodding good-bye to Torn and walking out of the door, the ottsel sulking on his shoulder the entire time.

As soon as the door shut, Torn collapsed into his chair, kicked his feet up on the desk, and took a healthy gulp of his coffee. The KG commander sighed, then radioed section A-2; after the squad had been reassigned, he leaned back and sighed. Finally, he could take a breather.

"Captain, his grace Samos is here to see you!"

...or not...

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KKC: Erm... well, I'm sorry the update took a while. School got in the way, yet again... *sighs*

Grimoire: Don't beat yourself up about it, KKC. Its an understandable reason.

KKC: Really? *looks up at her muse hopefully* Y'mean it?

Grimoire: Well, I actually liked the break, so take as long as you need. ^- ^

KKC: -.- Gee, you're so kind. *turns to reader* can't you feel the love?

Reader: o.0?

KKC: Uh-huh... *Shrugs* Well, please review. Don't worry, the story will pick up soon, and I have the plot all planned out.

Grimoire: Oh, you DO, do you? I haven't seen the story webs-

KKC: *claps hand over Grimoire's mouth* *sweatdrops* Eh-heh... see 'ya later, folks! Ciao!