A.N. Another chapter for your enjoyment readers but first I must express my profuse thanks for the overwhelming support you have shown the first chapter. It was your reviews that motivated me to update so soon. I do hope that this new chapter does justice to the praise you gave its predecessor, enjoy.

The Visionary

Long Live the King

Jak had been right about the numbers, there were almost sixty Krimson Guard in the street outside her home, three carriers settled within their armoured cordon, two squads of twelve bikes providing mounts for almost half of the soldiers. Torn wordlessly led them to the carrier in the centre, the door sliding open at his approach as he waved them in, Jak ignoring the glances from the guards around them but Keira nervously moving closer to him as they entered.

The carrier was designed to carry command officers, sumptuous cushions lining the seats that ringed a small table, the edges raised so that documents and maps would not slip off while on the move. The décor was military, red and black meeting the eye everywhere except for the figure that sat opposite them as they entered, the door closing behind them with a hiss as Torn moved to a second carrier. Jak's eyes narrowed as they he recognised the figure before him, the floor swaying beneath his feet as the carrier rose from the street, Keira seating herself to watch the confrontation.

'What the hell are you playing at Samos? Why'd you tell them that I was a Marr?'

The sage had shed his tattered village clothes, opting instead for flowing green robes, ancient writings embroidered into the fabric. His beard had been thoroughly combed, the log still entangled in his hair but shining now with a new lustre, his large hands still gripping his staff, new growth sprouting among the leaves at its head. Yet for all the change he still bore the look of a sage, if anything his new wardrobe only increased the effect, his eyes staring out with that alert wisdom that he always bore from behind his complex spectacles.

He smiled fondly at his daughter, noting with a small smile how here eyes returned to Jak the moment they left him. He turned the smile to Jak, ignoring the steel in the young mans eyes but treading lighter than he would have with most people. Jak was not the young boy he had raised, not by a long way.

Jak gripped an overhead rail, the nervous energy in his body keeping him on his feet as he confronted the smaller man, his imposing bearing dwarfing the sage. 'Why the hell do I need to be king Samos? Ashelin's a better ruler than I'll ever be.'

Samos shrugged, stroking his voluminous white beard slowly. 'Well you're probably right about that Jak, she is certainly capable. But here's the problem. There are a lot of people at the palace that did very well for themselves under the Baron's rule, doing his dirty work for him. When Ashelin tried to take over, well a lot of them weren't too happy about it because frankly they knew that she wouldn't want their kind of help. And so now they're doing everything they can to undermine her authority and they've done a damn good job. It's too late for her to simply order them out of the palace, it would start a civil war that would tear Haven apart. She needs someone to take over whose authority is irrefutable, if not with the ministers then with the people at least.

'Whether you like it or not Jak, you're that person, you're a hero and the heir to Haven's throne. If not in your own eyes then in the people's, and frankly that's all that matters. If you took the throne the people would rally behind you and nobody in the palace would dare to argue. Then with your authority Ashelin could sort out the mess up there and finally drag this city out of the gutter.' He emphasised his words by striking the tip of his staff on the floor, the metallic note fading as Jak stared down at him, Samos' words tumbling through his mind.

He could leave, he could leave Haven to fend for itself and be perfectly happy with Keira in some remote corner of the world, at least for a while. It was a thought that may have shocked him once, he'd always liked helping others as he grew but his years at Haven City had hardened him, particularly to any plight which it had brought on itself. But he knew that he could not, eventually the news would come that the remaining metalheads had organised themselves and levelled the city.

He couldn't be happy knowing how much innocent blood would be on his hands, he knew that Keira shared his thoughts as she caught his eye, smiling sadly in encouragement, knowing how much he had already given up to save these people. Jak pulled in a deep breath, fighting down the rage that surged up in him at the fact that he was once again asked to give up his happiness for this city. He pressed it down, driving Dark Jak back into his cage, it got easier each time he did it but it was still a monumental battle of wills. Samos seemed to see it in the tightness of his body, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the table. His voice was soft when he spoke,

'What do you want out of life, Jak?' There was a moment of silence as he considered, Keira watching him with tentative eyes.

The young fighter's eyes flicked to her before he replied, his tone surprisingly soft, as though some terrible fatigue plagued him. 'Peace.' She smiled at his answer, at what the look had told her of her part in it, but again it was tinged with sadness, her sympathy for her lover showing on her face.

Samos nodded slowly, 'Well I can't say I blame you lad but I can tell you for a fact that you'll get none in this city unless you're ruling it. They would have found out about your heritage eventually Jak and by that time the old Baron's lackeys would have gathered enough power to be the first to you. And believe me when I say that they wouldn't be offering the throne.'

'I can take care of myself.' Jak growled as he sat.

Samos shrugged, motioning Jak forward. As Jak's form loomed over him Samos leaned up and whispered in his ear. 'Oh I'm quite sure that you could tear whatever force they sent after you to shreds. But could you take care of Keira?' There was another moment's silence. 'As long as you're in danger, she's in danger because you and I both know that she'd follow you into hell. And though I'm sure you could kick the devil in the balls and waltz out you would loose her.' He leaned back, returning to his seat as Jak's eyes burned into him, a war of thoughts raging in his mind as Samos continued, his voice loud enough for Keira to hear, her curiosity at the unknown exchange showing as she looked from one to the other as Samos finished. 'And I don't want that anymore than you do.'

Jak stood silently, watching Keira watch him out of the corner of his eye, her eyes bearing a fear and uncertainty that showed her nerves, her hands clasped anxiously in her lap. He sighed as he realised that just as he had given up a lot to be with her so had she. What they were flying into right now terrified her, he could see it in her eyes. If she had her wish she would be back at home, safe, away from all the danger that he brought in his wake. But she had sacrificed that safety, just to be at his side. He could not let her pay a price for that, not when her presence was all that kept him sane.

Before his thoughts could come to a conclusion the silence was shattered as the blaring of an alarm sounded from the cockpit, shouts rising for an instant as the carrier lurched sideways, the pilots sending it into a steep dive as something hissed past the window. The carrier in front of them was not as quick and an explosion tore it apart, the intensity of the light blinding Jak for a moment as his own carrier righted itself, one of his arms holding Keira steady as the craft pivoted in the air. From the opposite window there was another roar of light and sound as a third detonation plucked three bikes from the air, narrowly missing Torn's carrier, their riders already dead as they plummeted toward the city below.

The trail of vapours outside the window made it plain that a missile had been the cause of their sudden alert, the fading path of ignited air leading his eyes to a group of armoured figures crouching on an overpass almost two hundred meters away. There were almost twenty of them, their armour black and lacking any symbols by which they could be identified. But Jak knew, there was only one place to get hardware that could do that to a Krimson Guard carrier in a single shot. And that was the Krimson Guard, now that he looked closer, the figures on the overpass looked like Krimson Guard under the black paint, and once again they were trying to kill him.

He glanced out the window, they were still over the suburbs, there was no cover among the buildings for the bulky carriers, not for a half-mile in every direction. Instinct honed by experience kicked in and thought and action became one as he threw the door to the cockpit open, the pilot not protesting as he snatched up the radio. 'Everybody, move! Go straight at them, don't let them keep firing those missiles or we're all dead!'

The Krimson Guard were conditioned to obey orders and followed without question, the two dozen bikes that surrounded them sweeping around as their formation dispersed to stop the next missiles from claiming too many, computer screens lighting up as they found the enemy. The carriers joined them, weapons sliding from hatches on the underbellies as the gunners in each ship picked their targets, the staccato chatter of gunfire rising as they took revenge for the ambush, the space between the two parties suddenly lit with glittering beams. The ferocity of their reply was unexpected, the ambush force faltering as three of their number were punched from their feet, metal and concrete exploding around them as stray shots tore at the scenery.

Yet despite their efforts two more missiles struck at them as the gap closed, three more of the bikes falling as they descended on the enemy. The third launcher was inaccurate, a shot knocking the shooter from his feet just as he pulled the trigger. Jak watched with wide eyes as the guidance system of the missile righted it and sent it on a direct course for them, the vapour trail flaring as its boosters kicked in. He did not wait for the pilot to react but merely kicked the control stick to the side even as he launched himself back into the rear, one hand seizing the overhead rail as his arm swept Keira close, her eyes wide and frightened at the sudden violence.

'Hold on!' His voice rose in command as he locked a leg against the table, securing himself and his precious charge in a corner as the craft pitched wildly to one side, Samos' eco flowing around him in a green shield as he was thrown from his seat. The missile caught the craft in the rear, the explosion tearing a hole through the armour and filling Jak's world with nothing but sound, darkness and heat as he turned, shielding Keira with his own body as she screamed. It was a high, frightened note that cut at him as it rang in his ears, Samos' words echoing in his mind. He could not loose her. He would not. The carrier pirouetted through the air, his muscles straining wildly to stop the wild spinning from smashing the young woman in his arms, the whirling world allowing him brief glimpses of green to tell him that Samos was holding his own.

Then they hit ground, upside down, the sudden concussion of landing throwing him from his place, the edge of the table bruising his flank he was thrown down, sprawling atop Keira as Samos hit the opposite wall, the glow of eco fading. Jak looked up and swore, the whole of the rear was simply gone, the edges jagged and torn by the force of the explosion. From outside there came the screams and sounds of a firefight and he knew that they had come down right in the middle of the enemy. A dark shape blocked out the sunlight as it filled the entrance, his eyes locking with the cold, red light that glowed from the helmet's visor as the black armoured form brought up his fire lance. Jak's hands grabbed Keira as she tried to rise, hauling her behind him as a growl rose in his throat, the attacker's first shot tracing a path of liquid fire across the floor where Keira had been a moment before. Jak's arms moved and suddenly he was holding his rifle, the sights already aligned as the red aiming laser glimmered into life. A single shot neatly blew the ambusher's head from his shoulders.

Jak brought himself up onto one knee as the second one came, his voice rising in anger as he stepped over the body of his fallen accomplice and straight into the two shots that Jak snapped off. The first shattered the fire lance in his hand a split second before the other hit his chest, his armour saving his life but not his ribs as he went down, bones cracking with the force of the hit.

Jak thumbed a switch on the side of the rifle and for a moment machinery twisted and changed in his hands like a living thing, the long, slender barrel shortening to a stubby, fat, but brutal machine. Two more of the black enemy filled the gap simultaneously, one getting off a shot that hissed past Jak's ear before a concussion split the air. The whole world seemed to shake for a moment as the shock of it slammed into them, at such close range it was devastating. The red shock wave shattered the plates of their armour and all but liquefied their fragile bodies inside, pitching them back and blasting fragments from the edge of the hole, the shrapnel adding to the chaos outside.

If another had meant to risk confronting them the intensifying firefight with the Krimson guard stopped them, death cries rising as the wing of bikes swept overhead, raking the roadway with fire, the advantage now with Torn's fighters as they routed the enemy. None of the black fighters had been ready for the ferocity of the reply that Jak had set into motion and now that a real fight had begun they were being massacred. As they continued to fall the cry went up to retreat and they fled, sprinting for a group of sleek black machines, Torn's vengeful Krimson Guard pursuing them all the way. The Krimson Guard fire traced a path into the tightly packed vehicles, puncturing armour and engine as they peppered them with fire. Explosions split the air as fuel tanks and eco concentrators were torn open, the ambushers that were still trying desperately to mount dying along with the machines. The few that did manage to rise into the air were gunned down in a matter of moments as another flight of Torn's guard cut them off, the veteran fighter seeing to it that victory was total, their mangled remains crashing into the overpass, sprawling their riders across the concrete.

Torn's carrier had been the third in the convoy, it's entrance ramp already open as it touched down, Torn leaning out to survey the battle site, a finely crafted pistol held in his free hand. He spat as he saw the damage to Jak's carrier, barely pausing to bellow orders. His voice rose in command as the Krimson guard set about taking prisoners of the wounded, their iron control settling on the battlefield.

'Put those fires out and call ambulances for the wounded! Get a transport here for the prisoners, I want them taken to site Beta.'

He whirled as one of the dead around the downed carrier heaved into movement, his pistol flashing upward only to find Jak staring back at him down the sights of his rifle, the red laser tracing a path through the air to his forehead.

He raised an eyebrow, 'You survived?'

Jak holstered his rifle with a smirk, turning to grip Keira's slim waist and lift her over the bodies, planting her by his side, her white coat stained by ash and dust. One of his hands stayed protectively upon her hip, pulling her close and turning her away from the spread of dead and wounded, her eyes shutting against the sight. Beside her Jak kicked at the corpse, his rage rising to the surface as he thought how close he had come to loosing her.

'This is Krimson Guard armour Torn, painted black! What the hell is going on?'

Torn cast a venomous gaze over the dead around them, his expression darkening. 'Proof that this city's in deep, deep shit. I'd hoped we'd have some time before they acted, seems like I was wrong. They're guards that are working for the Baron's ministers, the ones that liked the way he ran things and don't want to see it change.'

From the carrier came a bad tempered snort as Samos emerged, glaring at Torn, dried blood dirtying the side of his head, his eco already sealing the cut that had opened in his forehead. 'I warned you, you twit. I said to be careful but no, nobody ever listens to old Samos the Sage.' Torn grimaced but kept silent, turning to continue with his role as commander as Samos moved to the couple, casting his eyes over his daughter.

'Are you alright dear?' He asked as his hand became shrouded in green eco the small scrapes and bruises she had received evaporating as he turned to Jak. His eyes narrowed as he watched a cut above one of his eyes seal itself, only his eyes able to catch the flow of dark eco inside him that enabled such a miraculous recovery. He'd hoped that the dark eco was gone from Jak's body. Apparently he'd been wrong, at least it seemed that the boy could control it.

But as Jak turned to him Samos felt his throat go dry, to most he would have looked simply angry, however, with his years of use of eco Samos saw the truth as he looked into his stormy blue eyes. He saw the raw anger boiling behind his features, a coiling pool of dark eco. Once it would have brought on the transformation into his dark alter ego but now Jak had hold of it, a tight grip that made it a controlled rage that sizzled just below the surface, seeking a target, a victim. His voice held a ring of anger as he spoke, eyes turning toward the palace over the rooftops of the city, it's black walls rising above the city.

'Samos, get me to the palace. Someone's gonna pay for this!'

~

The council chamber was the place that the ministers met, a semicircular amphitheatre with a central arena perhaps ten metres across, the seats rising up from it with enough space to seat almost fifty people. The walls were a dull metallic colour, the baron's banners torn from their places during the aftermath of the metal-heads attack but his insignia still etched into the wide table that took up most of the arena. At the table Ashelin stared defiantly up at the arguing ministers, their calls drowning out her shouts as the meeting dissolved into argument as it always did. Of the thirty ministers who sat above her there was almost an even split between those with her and those against.

The sounds of their raging argument drilled into her skull as she rested her knuckles on the table-top, closing her eyes as she fought down the urge to strangle every one of them. Every meeting was like this, a raging argument that she had to ride and carefully control, knowing that a wrong move by her would set a torch to the powder keg under the palace. It was a lottery whose side the Krimson Guard that ringed the room would be on if a fight ever did break out.

She held up her hands, appealing for quiet, 'Ministers, ministers please, we have to set this plan in motion. The eco-grid needs to be repaired before the city can begin to recover.' A voice rose from the drone to challenge her, her face clenching with anger as she saw its owner, a tall, slim man with a narrow face and small, deep-set eyes, his head completely bald above formal, black clothing.

'We all agree Governor but you cannot expect us to agree to the priorities that you have set. Surely the defence grids must come first, the inner city sections need to be under tight supervision to control the waves of looters who are taking advantage of the disorganisation.'

His name was Evan Michaels, the intelligence minister under her father and as evil a bastard as you could ever find. But he had power, most of the Krimson Guard elite were in his pocket, behind Erol he'd been her father's favourite and even her father had been appalled by some of the things he'd suggested. She should have kicked him out the moment she'd come into the palace but it was too late now. If she tried to do that it would force the confrontation to a head and there would be a blood bath. She had to play this smart, had to chip away at his control until he was too weak to pose a threat anymore. The elite, her father's personal guard of officers and enforcers controlled the defence grids in the inner city, now they were loyal to Michaels. She couldn't let him have them and she could not justify switching their control to troops loyal to her.

'The Krimson Guard has the situation well in hand. What is needed most right now is food and treatment for the injured, the medical and agricultural facilities have to be restored or Haven City will not be able to survive.'

If he made a reply it was cut off as the large double doors behind her burst open with a dull boom that rolled over the hall, silencing all as every eye turned expectantly to the entrance. Jak strode in, his face set in a scowl, on his left Torn and Samos hurried to keep up as Keira stayed close by his right, her eyes rising to take in the huge room. At their back thirty Krimson Guard formed two neat lines, armoured gauntlets holding fire-lances at the ready. Ashelin's eyes narrowed as she took in the tears and burns in Jak's clothing and the scars of battle on the armour of the Krimson Guard with them.

Her eyes darted to Torn who grimaced in a way that told her the situation was none of his doing before Jak's voice filled the silence that had descended, his legs carrying him to the table with long, powerful strides, his hand rising with something in its grasp.

'You all know who I am, my name's Jak Marr, that makes me king and that means I'm in charge here, anybody that thinks different should speak now although I should warn you that twenty of these attacked me on the way here.' His hand tossed the object onto the table, a black Krimson Guard helmet skittering to a halt, Ashelin saw a half-dozen faces in their audience blanch, Michaels barely twitched, but he did. 'And I'm looking to kill somebody for it.' As he spoke his rifle appeared in his hand, spinning from its holster to pan across the audience, its glimmering red laser tracing a path across foreheads and hearts.

There was a moment of silence as Ashelin and the others held their breath, suddenly wondering if it had been such a good idea to bring Jak in. But nothing happened, Jak's show of force had been enough, at that moment none of the ministers dared to challenge him, they'd all heard about him, heard what he could do. Ashelin let out her breath slowly, he'd scared them just enough to gain them a respite.

'Good.' His tone was still thick with anger, the rage simmering just underneath the surface as he dropped his rifle onto the table, the solid clank echoing in the silence that his words brought. He left it there as he continued, a reminder of who he was and what he could do, they'd all heard the story of what he'd done with it in the water district when the Krimson Guard had cornered him, nobody wanted to see a repeat in the council chamber.

He turned to Ashelin and smirked confidently, she couldn't help the thought that ran through her mind as she returned it, 'Cocky bastard.'

'Ashelin, you've got some plans for getting Haven back on its feet?'

She smiled again and held up a folder from the table. 'Yes, your Majesty.' She made an effort to use the title with a straight face. 'With these measures repairs to the city can begin immediately and proceed with maximum efficiency. Inside two months full infrastructure should be restored.'

'Good.' He turned to the ministers. 'I want everything in those plans started now. Anybody who doesn't give Ashelin her full support answers to me.' Nobody had noticed but as he spoke Jak's hand had settled on the rifle, as he finished everybody was suddenly aware that it had.

Ashelin let the smirk creep back onto her face as she spoke up again, right now they had the upper hand, she had to capitalise. This was the best chance she'd ever have to pull the balance of power back into their favour. 'While we're on the subject your Majesty there are a few other measures that I'd like to implement.'

A.N Another chapter finished and a long one at that. I hope it was worth the read. Anyway, please tell me what you think via review or e-mail, I will try to get back to you as soon as possible if you have any queries and if the response is strong enough I will have the next chapter up before the new year. Again I extend an invitation to have me notify you via e-mail whenever I update and hope that the story is beginning to show qualities that warrant such interest. I suppose all that's left now is for me to wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Go With God

The Visionary