When I Grow Up
By: Necralis and Vader
- @ -
The completely solo fic continues! The One that is NOT written with ANY help from my slacking sister. It's all MY idea ('cept for the bits that belong to Naughty Dog, o'course).
Vader: MY idea, you mean.
Necralis: You signed a contract, Vader.
Vader: I... did?
Necralis: Yup. After I gave you that jumbo bag of fairy floss. *Holds up a contract* Says right here that all ideas, plots, OC's and other intellectual properties that you submit henceforth belong to ME and me alone, unless-
Vader: NOOO! Oh no, no, no, noooo, no, no...
Necralis: Now you sound like Courtney Lilly.
Vader: No, no, oh no...
Necralis: *starts talking over him, though you can still hear him going 'NO! NO!' in the background* Who's heard stuff about Jak III? I just wanna tell you that I HAVE! Did you know that he gets BANISHED from Haven in this one? And then most of it collapses! AND AND AND he actually has a LIGHT form in this one! When he becomes light Jak, he turns electric blue, his eyes go brilliant white (the opposite of pools of blackness, I suppose) he can heal himself, make shields and he has WINGS! As in those things you find on angels that you use for flying! Neat! And you can ride lizards – lizards, people! Damn I can't wait.
**Disclaimer**Jak and Daxter belongs to Naughty Dog. I only own the OC known as Miala, as well as various assorted original gadgets, elements, pedestrians and guard appearances (but they don't usually last very long ;)). And the Techie! He is mostly mine (apart from his looks), even though he's an idiot and... never mind. Just read and find out! I'm getting tired of writing Jak as a goody-goody, so we may have the appearance of someone (or something) who has no such qualms about killing things... *Fiendish smile* Please review. Constructive criticism is welcomed and encouraged, however flamers are arse-holes and must therefore be handed over to Nny for *cough* 'judgment'.
Chapter 4
- ~ -
"...So then he says it was MY fault I screwed up his mission, and dumps me out into the street! Like I WANTED to come with him in the first place!" Daxter stared dolefully at his drink, which was dark and thick and could probably be used as rocket fuel and/or highly volatile explosives. "Jak can be so STUBBORN sometimes. I mean, WHO got him out of the clink? WHO had to talk to weirdoes when he was a mute?"
"He can be so mean sometimes," the blonde behind the bar said, agreeing, like she always did, with Daxter. The fact that Jak wasn't around right now to protest probably helped. She continued to mindlessly wipe the counter, though the probably centuries worth of grime, puke, spilt beer and... more interesting substances had coated the thing in sticky black goo that refused to succumb to even the most powerful cleaners.
"Mean. He's always mean, yeah. Hey, babe, could'yer spare a refill for yer favorite ottsel?"
Even though Daxter's words were starting to slur, Tess refilled his glass without conscience thought. (V&N: Now there's a knotty one. Does Tess think at all?)
Daxter tried to lift the glass but to his annoyance found it stuck to the counter. It was one of the reasons people got drunk so quickly in here – set anything down on a surface too long and it took more effort than most were willing to expend to pry it off again.
That, and more often than not they were trying to drown their fear of the Metal Heads and their miserable existence in Haven City.
The Hip Hog Heaven Saloon (or to some lazier patrons, Krew's Bar) was the most popular bar in the city for no discernable reason. It was dank, dirty, had a very limited supply of very powerful alcoholic and also attracted some rather unusual clientele. Make too much fuss and you were likely to have your head blown off (or worse), but that didn't stop people from coming here and usually ending up pissed and drooling on the floor and getting kicked out by one of Krew's 'boys'.
Daxter was not to that stage just yet, (though it wasn't from lack of trying) having found his way to the bar and attempted to drink most of it. This was due to his business idea failing, it being to seek out the few people in Haven who had boots worth polishing. Then he would attempt to con money off them... but this usually resulted in him running for his life, pursued by screeches of "OH MY GOD IT'S A GIANT TALKING RAT!" Finally tiring of having things thrown at him, he had retreated to the Hip Hog in the hopes that the combined distractions of Tess and drink would cheer him up slightly... or at least lift him a few inches out of his misery and loneliness.
However, it was not working.
Although he would never admit it, Daxter missed Jak so much it was starting to drive him mad. He knew Krew had sent him off on some other, probably suicidal mission (as was his custom) but aside from that, he had no clue as to where his friend had gone. Sometimes he was tempted to pluck up the courage to actually ask the fat-arsed merchant where he had sent Jak, but he knew Jak wouldn't want to talk to him – hell, he would probably use him as a bludgeoning tool on the next person who annoyed him.
With that comforting thought, Daxter finally managed to pry his glass loose and downed half of it in one gulp, despite the fact that it was larger than his head. Straight away the room went kinda blurry. The fluorescent lights that decorated most of the Hip Hop started to smear his vision with swatches of brilliant colour.
"Wonder what Jak's doin' now..." he hiccupped, wondering idly when Tess had invited her twin sister around... the sister who was multiplying every second. "Chattin' up some girl in a bar probly..."
In his head, he could almost hear the little voice laughing at him.
- * -
As coincidence would have it, Jak was talking to a girl at that very moment. Although the way the conversation was going, it could hardly be referred to 'chatting up'. 'Arguing viciously' was a lot closer to the mark.
"Five," snapped Miala. "I definitely counted five guards stationed around the facility."
Jak snatched the FarScan binoculars from her grip and placed them to his eyes, ignoring her cry of protest. "I count seven," he said, frowning. "There are a couple coming out right now."
"I couldn't see them before, you idiot... How do you plan to get into a place that's guarded so heavily?"
"You think five Krimzon guards is heavy?"
"There's bound to be more inside, and you forgot the turrets. There are seventeen of them visible from here."
'Here' was the top of a cliff overlooking the mine, which was quite small. Though there was probably a lot more of it beneath the ground. Miala had shown him how to climb straight up the seemingly un-climb-able cliff face, using her spare whipcord and a few pitons. Jak had almost started to feel grateful to her for her help – until she started arguing with him over strategy.
"We just go in, shoot everything, then blow it up," said Jak, frowning slightly. "How else?"
Miala muttered something that sounded like "Men". Then she said "Isn't there a way to do it that doesn't involve shooting everything in sight?"
Jak stared at her blankly for a while.
"You know, stealth or somethi-" Noticing the blank look on Jak's face, she gave up. "You know what? I think we'll do it your way."
Jak suddenly grinned, and by no means was it angelic. "You mean we go in, shoot everything, then blow it up?"
"Sure. Have it your way. One thing though." Miala stood up, and Jak suddenly realized with chagrin that she was actually a few inches taller than he was. (N&V: Jak is short. I have no delusions whatsoever about his height. All you people who have been continually describing him as TALL, get off yer collective arses and play the game. AND PAY ATTENTION THIS TIME, DAMMIT! He is shorter than almost everyone, with the exception of Onin, Samos and Kiera.)
"What's your frequency?" she enquired.
"My...what? Frequency?" Jak blinked in confusion.
"Your communicator frequency, you moron. So we can talk to each other. I assume you'll want to find me again if we get separated?"
"I will?" Jak bared his teeth in a semblance of a smile. "Just kidding... Maybe. I know what you're talking about." Inwardly he cursed himself for forgetting. Two years in the future wasn't enough to teach you everything, it seemed. He gave her the number.
"Can we move now?" he asked, once they were sure that she had memorized it and that he had remembered hers. "The longer we stay up here, the more likely it is that they'll spot us and shoot us down."
"A sitting duck is a dead duck," Miala agreed, brushing grass off her knees. "My dad used to say that a lot," she continued, then discovered she was talking to thin air. Jak was already climbing carefully down the cliff, his gaze fixed on the Guards with a murderous glint in his eye.
She slid down after him, yelling, "Wait UP, you bastard!" Jak ignored her and start running, fingers sliding a clip into his Blaster.
The first Guard didn't even get a chance to scream. Jak's gun flashed and he fell over, clawing at a hole in his supposedly bulletproof armor. Two others were alerted by the noise and one started yelling into his com, whilst the other bellowed at his friends to get off their arses.
Satisfied that they were earning their salaries, he turned around and was shot in the face as Jak took advantage of his momentary distraction. The rest yelled in shock and started towards the grinning convict, their shock- rods and blasters coming up to try and take Jak down.
Then they were all fighting, blasting and punching and kicking and screaming, Miala leaping into the fray to tackle one to the ground and blast him in the back of the neck.
The guy with the com was still doing his thing when Jak neatly kicked his feet out from under him, jammed his gun into his stomach as he fell and fired. He was the last to go down, but the damage was done as Jak heard a whirr above him and the gun turrets began to perk up in their cradles.
Eyes wide, he snatched Miala by the front of her shirt and threw her at the wall. No time for embarrassment – that could come later.
She let out a squawk of protest but was cut off as Jak's hand went over her mouth.
"Don't move – don't talk – don't even think," he breathed, watching as the turrets swiveled, seeking out the intruders. They were probably safe where they were – most KG turrets had a sensor blind spot directly beneath them - but the Baron was getting smarter and this plant was supposedly top- security.
After what seemed like a thousand years, the turrets stopped swiveling and settled back into their cradles, humming slightly and scanning slowly from left to right. Jak timed the sensor sweep with his eyes and figured they should just be able to get through without ending up as Swiss cheese if they ran – now.
Paying no attention to Miala's foul swearing as he grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her behind him, he ran along the wall, never looking back or stopping, racing for what he hoped was the door.
"Open, open damn you!" he growled, pounding his fist against the unyielding metal, biting back all the curse-words he knew as he watched the turrets sweep around to investigate the noise...
"OPEN YOU FU-" no one was more surprised than he was when it smoothly, quietly, obeyed his frantic screaming, revealing their 'savior' – an extremely startled looking guard who didn't even get to swear before Jak's gun went off and he went down. He dragged Miala after him as he went through the door then suddenly realized what he had been doing. The embarrassment caught up with him and he hurriedly dropped her hand as though it were the fanged end of a snake.
She was completely unfazed by this, in fact she grinned at him as though this happened all the time. The grin lit up her whole face with almost demonic glee. The sort of smile that Daxter told him not to do because it freaked the hell out of him and also scared people – making Jak do it even more.
Jak thought of Daxter, wondered again what he was doing. He felt a slight twinge of guilt as visions of Krimzon Guards and furriers and orange fur stoles danced around inside his head, then reminded himself that the ottsel had managed to look after himself all alone for two whole years. Two years before he had finally busted his friend out of jail. Two years in which he had wondered, endlessly, whether Daxter was all right, interspersed with 'God how I hate you' sessions with the Baron. And it was at that moment that Jak realized how much he missed his friend.
It was the stupidest thing ever – he was in an explosive mine crammed full of who-knew-how-many Guards and there was a crazy girl grinning at him and more than anything he wanted the wisecracking weasel on his shoulder again. He missed their ability to snipe at each other and yell things, he missed his maniacal grin and him hitting on any girl who so much as glanced at him, he missed Daxter's occasional help and clumsiness. He even missed the ottsel's drunken singing, a rather cheap laugh even at the best of times.
But more than anything he missed the loyal friend he'd had since childhood, the one that had always tried his best to be useful, despite his cowardly nature. One of his few remaining links to the world he had lost, probably forever.
If I survive this, I'm going to find him and apologize. THEN I'll kill him.
If...
"Helloooooo. Mission control to Jak, we're losing you." Miala's voice crashed through his thoughts, making him realize that he'd brought the particular problem she represented on himself. She was still standing there, grinning at him.
"I hate you."
She raised an eyebrow at this statement. Jak shook his head and turned away, mind already edging away from Daxter and back to the task at hand, which was open the stupidly large door blocking their way into the mine proper.
Miala stared at the console beside the doors. "Hmm...codes. Fifteen digits – my, my, we are paranoid, aren't we?"
Jak came over, opened up the panel and ripped out most of the wires. No time for subtlety – the Guard with the com had probably set off every alarm in the whole damn place. The doors clicked complainingly, then shuddered and opened a few inches, revealing a cold, steel lined corridor.
"I could have done that." Miala said with a frown.
After squeezing themselves through the gap, they came across a second Guard – a tall, lanky man, not unlike Torn (which in Jak's mind was reason enough to shoot him). He brought up his tazer. Jak likewise brought up his Blaster, pulling the trigger and shooting him through the neck.
"See what I mean? You have no finesse, no style." A third guard went down in a writhing heap, Miala's whipcord tangled around him.
Jak said nothing, just shook his head, eyes raised to the heavens.
Miala didn't want to surrender. "Ooh, can't find a comeback?"
"Just shut up, Miala. We have a job to do."
* -
The man sitting at the desk in the power core of the mine was thin and fairly short. Unlike most of the other Guards in the mine, he was dressed casually, the only indication of his job a compact blaster in a holster at his side. He idly hummed a tuneless little tune to himself, pushed his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose then tapped a few buttons on one of consoles surrounding him. The fact that he was separated from a fatal fall by only a thin-ish layer of steel didn't bother him. He couldn't see it from where he was standing, so why should he worry?
He was a techie, the foreman of the operation, a computer expert who understood all the complicated machinery in the mine. He was also a bastard, being completely incapable of earning any sort of respect from the Guards under his command.
The face of one of the said Guards flickered into life on a monitor, jittering slightly from interference.
"Yes, Sir."
"Report, Beta squad."
"Alpha squad, Sir." This was said with barely disguised derision.
"Whatever." The techie waved his hand dismissively. "Any unusual activity?"
"Outer patrol is late for the shift change."
"And?"
"We got a call for turret activation a few minutes ago."
"And?"
"After that, the line went silent."
"So?"
"We think there may be intruders, Sir."
"And what evidence do you have?"
"Sir?"
The techie shifted irritably on his chair. These Guards were so infuriatingly dense sometimes. "I should put it in simpler terms. Have you seen any intruders, that is, with your own eyes? Have I radioed in to tell you to be on the alert? No. I have not seen any intruders, and it's my opinion that counts here, Beta Squad."
"Alpha."
"Alpha what?"
"Alpha squad...sir."
"Very good. Now get back to your patrol and I want no more drunken nonsense about intruders, is that clear?"
"Crystal, sir..." The Guard on the monitor was positively vibrating with suppressed rage. The techie thought he heard him murmur "you bastard" as the screen went dark again, but decided not to turn around. He could spill his coffee.
"Good help..." he muttered to himself, walking directly past a monitor that clearly displayed a blonde man giving it an obscene gesture without looking at it. This was followed by a girl's smiling face appearing upside-down and waving good-bye, before the transmission cut out completely.
All this made a faint whistling noise as it flew right over the head of the oblivious techie, who pressed a few random buttons before he decided to annoy the commander again.
This time the Guard took a while to appear, and when he did, his face was sweaty and he was panting.
"Sir, we got a serious situation down here-"
The techie smiled to himself – obviously the air-conditioning had cut out again. He had just thought that when an explosion rattled the view from somewhere off-screen.
"Those phantom intruders? They're REAL?"
"It's not ghosts killing my men, Sir!"
"How – how many?" the other man stuttered, wondering how just badly he had screwed up this time.
"There are two of them... a man and a woman."
"I mean how many casualties?"
The Commander's face was shiny with sweat now – though he was clearly making an effort to compose himself. "Fifteen."
"Fi-fifteen?!?"
Another loud explosion rattled out, followed by the sharp noises of gunfire... and someone screaming. "Sixteen now, sir."
"Who the hell are they?"
"The man... damn, he's fast... he's blonde... light hair...blue tunic...the rebel!"
"What?"
"The eco freak!"
"What about the woman?"
"She's got green hair... looks kinda young... shit, they just took out three more of my people! Sir, we need back up..."
"Is there an orange rat there as well?"
"What the hell are you babbling about?!"
"I guess not... look, I got two squads heading to your position. Just keep them away from the door..."
"Can't- --er- --- you're---reaking--" Then the picture went blank.
"Shit!" The techie rattled a few keys and when that didn't work, employed the age-old method of rapid repair – slapping the screen, which remained stubbornly blank. "What in blazes is going on down there? Answer me! Come in, dammit! Commander!"
"........." Only static now emanated from the speakers.
"Sweet Precursors..."The man slumped back in the chair, the realization sinking in – he HAD screwed up this time. Badly. Suddenly nothing seemed to matter any more.
In the background, the warning klaxons started to wail.
- * -
"Miala! Get the door!" Jak yelled as he loosed a few rounds at the squad of Guards racing up the corridor. He then gave a yelp as a bullet grazed his left hand. He swore loudly and nearly dropped his gun, but then caught himself and blasted away with one hand, though he was not as accurate as he had been.
"I'm trying, dammit! The defenses on this thing are no joke! SHIT!" she added, as the indicator light turned red for the fourth time.
"Just take out the wires! Like I did!" Jak howled, switching to his Vulcan Barrel and sending a hail of bullets towards the Guards. "Now would be a good time! Sooner, even!"
"There are bare wires in this thing! I'll get fried!"
"DO YOU HONESTLY THINK I GIVE A SH- THANK YOU!" Finally the door slid open, just in time for Jak and Miala to leap through it. It slammed shut behind them, nearly trapping Jak's boot.
Miala did not turn to help him up, too busy staring in awe at the chamber before them. It was-
But no collection of capital letters can possibly describe how very, very big it was, nor any collection of adjectives describe the insane complexity of the machines kept within. There were hundreds of them, lifters and conveyer belts and completely unidentifiable things. All of which were being used to shift something silver and glittering from one end of the facility to the other. The chamber was criss-crossed with dozens of interconnected catwalks, making it resemble a giant game of snakes and ladders. And at the very top, like a cherry on a cake, hanging suspended over a sixty-foot drop, the power core of the facility – widely known as the 'Techie Box' – was locked into the ceiling with half a ton of steel and stone.
"We should move," muttered Jak from his position on the ground, who'd seen it all before. Well, places like it, anyway.
Miala snapped out of her daze to reply, "Don't you think we should just rest for a bit? No way anything could get through that door. I locked it. And anyway, I reckon the hard bit is over, don't you?"
A premature statement, as it happened. Because it was then that the thirty- strong squad of Guards thundered out of the door on the left.
"Yes, Miala," Jak said sarcastically. "I don't think the hard bit is just beginning."
- * -
The techie was furious. The intruders had breached the mine! His mine! On his watch! And now they were walking around in the center of the mine as though it was nothing! And they had blasted about a third of the Guards in the facility to get there. Just one man and a kid!
He called in another squad, a big one, hoping that numbers would finish them off. Even though it hadn't worked before. It was all he could do! And they were not – were NOT – getting into this room. No way in hell. He commanded this operation, dammit!
"I'M the commander here!" he shouted at no one as he pounded on his desk, just to reinforce his thought. The Baron had appointed him to this position. The Baron trusted him with the second most dangerous resource in the planet – after Dark Eco – and he would NOT screw it up!
Another loud explosion rocked the room and his conviction evaporated. After dithering in the center of the room for a few seconds, another explosion rattled the room and he finally locked down security and hid.
- * -
Jak was fighting almost mechanically now, his hands and feet on automatic, when he felt a presence uncoil in the corner of his mind. Something powerful, reeking with darkness. It was so strong...it was almost as if a clawed finger tapped him on the shoulder, as if a harsh voice whispered in his ear...
'Let me out.'
He shook his head slightly as he ducked an over-ambitious swing from a Guard, then slammed his knife upwards into his gut. The girl was just a few metres away...
'It'll only take a few minutes...'
'I don't need you!' Jak thought furiously, but he might as well have been shouting at Daxter. Jak felt pain start to build in his temples, cold, slithering, horribly familiar pain...
"Miala! RUN!" he screamed, actually dropping his gun to collapse on the ground, his hands clutched around his head.
"But-" She glanced at the door, then back at Jak. She couldn't leave him on his own, but a faint, ominous purple glow was starting to build around him...
"GO!"
The girl wavered uncertainly for a second more, then saw the animalistic snarl on Jak's face and decided not to argue. She had just reached the door when horrible screams erupted from where Jak was... almost against her will, she turned to look... just as a huge purple flash of lightening exploded, burning smoking holes through armor and flesh.
"AAAARRGH!"
A Guard FLEW straight out of the throng, seemingly flung bodily by something... he screamed as he collided with the wall, then slid down it, broken like a toy.
A second Guard staggered backward out of the jostling mass of armor, clutching his face – because half of it was gone, ripped straight away from the bone. The front of his uniform was coated with blood. Finally he collapsed, twitching and jerking.
Miala stared goggle-eyed as something silver and incredibly fast shot out of the circle, twisting and slashing with razor-sharp claws. The – thing – carved through the gaggle like a hot knife through butter, crushing the Guards with terrifying ease.
Suddenly, it stopped. A dead stop. Just like that. No forward movement at all. And it turned.
Miala found herself staring into eyes dark as night, a liquid blackness... like pools of Dark Eco. Eyes that, though so horribly changed, clearly resembled Jak's. His tanned skinned had changed to silver, blonde hair to ghastly white, and the creature's lips were stretched in a fanged, but completely humorless smile.
It... he had become a demon. The Eco-Freak she'd heard such stories about.
The result of the failed 'Dark Warrior' project... and now the scourge of Haven City.
Dark Jak.
Frantically she started pounding on the door, as the thing that had once been Jak advanced, dark eyes shining with murderous intent.
- ~ -
Necralis: (is humming vaguely to 'Messij' on the Wipeout soundtrack)
Vader: Necralis. NECRALIS!
Necralis: Da da da-da da da da, da-da-da...
Vader: (thinks for a second then inhales deeply) CL-
Necralis: (hand shoots out and seizes Vader by the neck) Don't. Call. Me. That. (drops him on the ground)
Vader: (gasping for breath) Well, I just thought you oughta know that we're ON!
Necralis: Mm hmm? (continues to hum happily, tapping the rhythm out with one of her handguns)
Vader: (pulls out her headphones and screeches in her face) WE'RE ON, YOU BLASTED AIRHEAD!
Necralis: Really? (continues to hum to music she can't hear)
Vader: Oh, forget it. She's lost in her own mind again. (puts the headphones back in) Well, as you can see, Chappie four is done and done. Please review! (loud screech as Necralis is jerked out of her fantasy world and into harsh reality)
Necralis: Oh god no... (starts sobbing brokenly) I can't deal... (suddenly perks up as she gets used to it) Chappie 4-is up ready-to-voo... (realizes she is talking to the rhythm of the music she is listening to and rips out the headphones) Yeah. Hope you enjoyed it! It was so hard to write because I was struck down with a MASSIVE writer's block (THAT IS HAPPENING TOO FOIKING OFTEN!), however I still hope that you REVIEW and give me a reason to liiiiive! (Lets out a shriek of totally insane laughter) Wheeee! Or should I say... squee? ^^;
By: Necralis and Vader
- @ -
The completely solo fic continues! The One that is NOT written with ANY help from my slacking sister. It's all MY idea ('cept for the bits that belong to Naughty Dog, o'course).
Vader: MY idea, you mean.
Necralis: You signed a contract, Vader.
Vader: I... did?
Necralis: Yup. After I gave you that jumbo bag of fairy floss. *Holds up a contract* Says right here that all ideas, plots, OC's and other intellectual properties that you submit henceforth belong to ME and me alone, unless-
Vader: NOOO! Oh no, no, no, noooo, no, no...
Necralis: Now you sound like Courtney Lilly.
Vader: No, no, oh no...
Necralis: *starts talking over him, though you can still hear him going 'NO! NO!' in the background* Who's heard stuff about Jak III? I just wanna tell you that I HAVE! Did you know that he gets BANISHED from Haven in this one? And then most of it collapses! AND AND AND he actually has a LIGHT form in this one! When he becomes light Jak, he turns electric blue, his eyes go brilliant white (the opposite of pools of blackness, I suppose) he can heal himself, make shields and he has WINGS! As in those things you find on angels that you use for flying! Neat! And you can ride lizards – lizards, people! Damn I can't wait.
**Disclaimer**Jak and Daxter belongs to Naughty Dog. I only own the OC known as Miala, as well as various assorted original gadgets, elements, pedestrians and guard appearances (but they don't usually last very long ;)). And the Techie! He is mostly mine (apart from his looks), even though he's an idiot and... never mind. Just read and find out! I'm getting tired of writing Jak as a goody-goody, so we may have the appearance of someone (or something) who has no such qualms about killing things... *Fiendish smile* Please review. Constructive criticism is welcomed and encouraged, however flamers are arse-holes and must therefore be handed over to Nny for *cough* 'judgment'.
Chapter 4
- ~ -
"...So then he says it was MY fault I screwed up his mission, and dumps me out into the street! Like I WANTED to come with him in the first place!" Daxter stared dolefully at his drink, which was dark and thick and could probably be used as rocket fuel and/or highly volatile explosives. "Jak can be so STUBBORN sometimes. I mean, WHO got him out of the clink? WHO had to talk to weirdoes when he was a mute?"
"He can be so mean sometimes," the blonde behind the bar said, agreeing, like she always did, with Daxter. The fact that Jak wasn't around right now to protest probably helped. She continued to mindlessly wipe the counter, though the probably centuries worth of grime, puke, spilt beer and... more interesting substances had coated the thing in sticky black goo that refused to succumb to even the most powerful cleaners.
"Mean. He's always mean, yeah. Hey, babe, could'yer spare a refill for yer favorite ottsel?"
Even though Daxter's words were starting to slur, Tess refilled his glass without conscience thought. (V&N: Now there's a knotty one. Does Tess think at all?)
Daxter tried to lift the glass but to his annoyance found it stuck to the counter. It was one of the reasons people got drunk so quickly in here – set anything down on a surface too long and it took more effort than most were willing to expend to pry it off again.
That, and more often than not they were trying to drown their fear of the Metal Heads and their miserable existence in Haven City.
The Hip Hog Heaven Saloon (or to some lazier patrons, Krew's Bar) was the most popular bar in the city for no discernable reason. It was dank, dirty, had a very limited supply of very powerful alcoholic and also attracted some rather unusual clientele. Make too much fuss and you were likely to have your head blown off (or worse), but that didn't stop people from coming here and usually ending up pissed and drooling on the floor and getting kicked out by one of Krew's 'boys'.
Daxter was not to that stage just yet, (though it wasn't from lack of trying) having found his way to the bar and attempted to drink most of it. This was due to his business idea failing, it being to seek out the few people in Haven who had boots worth polishing. Then he would attempt to con money off them... but this usually resulted in him running for his life, pursued by screeches of "OH MY GOD IT'S A GIANT TALKING RAT!" Finally tiring of having things thrown at him, he had retreated to the Hip Hog in the hopes that the combined distractions of Tess and drink would cheer him up slightly... or at least lift him a few inches out of his misery and loneliness.
However, it was not working.
Although he would never admit it, Daxter missed Jak so much it was starting to drive him mad. He knew Krew had sent him off on some other, probably suicidal mission (as was his custom) but aside from that, he had no clue as to where his friend had gone. Sometimes he was tempted to pluck up the courage to actually ask the fat-arsed merchant where he had sent Jak, but he knew Jak wouldn't want to talk to him – hell, he would probably use him as a bludgeoning tool on the next person who annoyed him.
With that comforting thought, Daxter finally managed to pry his glass loose and downed half of it in one gulp, despite the fact that it was larger than his head. Straight away the room went kinda blurry. The fluorescent lights that decorated most of the Hip Hop started to smear his vision with swatches of brilliant colour.
"Wonder what Jak's doin' now..." he hiccupped, wondering idly when Tess had invited her twin sister around... the sister who was multiplying every second. "Chattin' up some girl in a bar probly..."
In his head, he could almost hear the little voice laughing at him.
- * -
As coincidence would have it, Jak was talking to a girl at that very moment. Although the way the conversation was going, it could hardly be referred to 'chatting up'. 'Arguing viciously' was a lot closer to the mark.
"Five," snapped Miala. "I definitely counted five guards stationed around the facility."
Jak snatched the FarScan binoculars from her grip and placed them to his eyes, ignoring her cry of protest. "I count seven," he said, frowning. "There are a couple coming out right now."
"I couldn't see them before, you idiot... How do you plan to get into a place that's guarded so heavily?"
"You think five Krimzon guards is heavy?"
"There's bound to be more inside, and you forgot the turrets. There are seventeen of them visible from here."
'Here' was the top of a cliff overlooking the mine, which was quite small. Though there was probably a lot more of it beneath the ground. Miala had shown him how to climb straight up the seemingly un-climb-able cliff face, using her spare whipcord and a few pitons. Jak had almost started to feel grateful to her for her help – until she started arguing with him over strategy.
"We just go in, shoot everything, then blow it up," said Jak, frowning slightly. "How else?"
Miala muttered something that sounded like "Men". Then she said "Isn't there a way to do it that doesn't involve shooting everything in sight?"
Jak stared at her blankly for a while.
"You know, stealth or somethi-" Noticing the blank look on Jak's face, she gave up. "You know what? I think we'll do it your way."
Jak suddenly grinned, and by no means was it angelic. "You mean we go in, shoot everything, then blow it up?"
"Sure. Have it your way. One thing though." Miala stood up, and Jak suddenly realized with chagrin that she was actually a few inches taller than he was. (N&V: Jak is short. I have no delusions whatsoever about his height. All you people who have been continually describing him as TALL, get off yer collective arses and play the game. AND PAY ATTENTION THIS TIME, DAMMIT! He is shorter than almost everyone, with the exception of Onin, Samos and Kiera.)
"What's your frequency?" she enquired.
"My...what? Frequency?" Jak blinked in confusion.
"Your communicator frequency, you moron. So we can talk to each other. I assume you'll want to find me again if we get separated?"
"I will?" Jak bared his teeth in a semblance of a smile. "Just kidding... Maybe. I know what you're talking about." Inwardly he cursed himself for forgetting. Two years in the future wasn't enough to teach you everything, it seemed. He gave her the number.
"Can we move now?" he asked, once they were sure that she had memorized it and that he had remembered hers. "The longer we stay up here, the more likely it is that they'll spot us and shoot us down."
"A sitting duck is a dead duck," Miala agreed, brushing grass off her knees. "My dad used to say that a lot," she continued, then discovered she was talking to thin air. Jak was already climbing carefully down the cliff, his gaze fixed on the Guards with a murderous glint in his eye.
She slid down after him, yelling, "Wait UP, you bastard!" Jak ignored her and start running, fingers sliding a clip into his Blaster.
The first Guard didn't even get a chance to scream. Jak's gun flashed and he fell over, clawing at a hole in his supposedly bulletproof armor. Two others were alerted by the noise and one started yelling into his com, whilst the other bellowed at his friends to get off their arses.
Satisfied that they were earning their salaries, he turned around and was shot in the face as Jak took advantage of his momentary distraction. The rest yelled in shock and started towards the grinning convict, their shock- rods and blasters coming up to try and take Jak down.
Then they were all fighting, blasting and punching and kicking and screaming, Miala leaping into the fray to tackle one to the ground and blast him in the back of the neck.
The guy with the com was still doing his thing when Jak neatly kicked his feet out from under him, jammed his gun into his stomach as he fell and fired. He was the last to go down, but the damage was done as Jak heard a whirr above him and the gun turrets began to perk up in their cradles.
Eyes wide, he snatched Miala by the front of her shirt and threw her at the wall. No time for embarrassment – that could come later.
She let out a squawk of protest but was cut off as Jak's hand went over her mouth.
"Don't move – don't talk – don't even think," he breathed, watching as the turrets swiveled, seeking out the intruders. They were probably safe where they were – most KG turrets had a sensor blind spot directly beneath them - but the Baron was getting smarter and this plant was supposedly top- security.
After what seemed like a thousand years, the turrets stopped swiveling and settled back into their cradles, humming slightly and scanning slowly from left to right. Jak timed the sensor sweep with his eyes and figured they should just be able to get through without ending up as Swiss cheese if they ran – now.
Paying no attention to Miala's foul swearing as he grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her behind him, he ran along the wall, never looking back or stopping, racing for what he hoped was the door.
"Open, open damn you!" he growled, pounding his fist against the unyielding metal, biting back all the curse-words he knew as he watched the turrets sweep around to investigate the noise...
"OPEN YOU FU-" no one was more surprised than he was when it smoothly, quietly, obeyed his frantic screaming, revealing their 'savior' – an extremely startled looking guard who didn't even get to swear before Jak's gun went off and he went down. He dragged Miala after him as he went through the door then suddenly realized what he had been doing. The embarrassment caught up with him and he hurriedly dropped her hand as though it were the fanged end of a snake.
She was completely unfazed by this, in fact she grinned at him as though this happened all the time. The grin lit up her whole face with almost demonic glee. The sort of smile that Daxter told him not to do because it freaked the hell out of him and also scared people – making Jak do it even more.
Jak thought of Daxter, wondered again what he was doing. He felt a slight twinge of guilt as visions of Krimzon Guards and furriers and orange fur stoles danced around inside his head, then reminded himself that the ottsel had managed to look after himself all alone for two whole years. Two years before he had finally busted his friend out of jail. Two years in which he had wondered, endlessly, whether Daxter was all right, interspersed with 'God how I hate you' sessions with the Baron. And it was at that moment that Jak realized how much he missed his friend.
It was the stupidest thing ever – he was in an explosive mine crammed full of who-knew-how-many Guards and there was a crazy girl grinning at him and more than anything he wanted the wisecracking weasel on his shoulder again. He missed their ability to snipe at each other and yell things, he missed his maniacal grin and him hitting on any girl who so much as glanced at him, he missed Daxter's occasional help and clumsiness. He even missed the ottsel's drunken singing, a rather cheap laugh even at the best of times.
But more than anything he missed the loyal friend he'd had since childhood, the one that had always tried his best to be useful, despite his cowardly nature. One of his few remaining links to the world he had lost, probably forever.
If I survive this, I'm going to find him and apologize. THEN I'll kill him.
If...
"Helloooooo. Mission control to Jak, we're losing you." Miala's voice crashed through his thoughts, making him realize that he'd brought the particular problem she represented on himself. She was still standing there, grinning at him.
"I hate you."
She raised an eyebrow at this statement. Jak shook his head and turned away, mind already edging away from Daxter and back to the task at hand, which was open the stupidly large door blocking their way into the mine proper.
Miala stared at the console beside the doors. "Hmm...codes. Fifteen digits – my, my, we are paranoid, aren't we?"
Jak came over, opened up the panel and ripped out most of the wires. No time for subtlety – the Guard with the com had probably set off every alarm in the whole damn place. The doors clicked complainingly, then shuddered and opened a few inches, revealing a cold, steel lined corridor.
"I could have done that." Miala said with a frown.
After squeezing themselves through the gap, they came across a second Guard – a tall, lanky man, not unlike Torn (which in Jak's mind was reason enough to shoot him). He brought up his tazer. Jak likewise brought up his Blaster, pulling the trigger and shooting him through the neck.
"See what I mean? You have no finesse, no style." A third guard went down in a writhing heap, Miala's whipcord tangled around him.
Jak said nothing, just shook his head, eyes raised to the heavens.
Miala didn't want to surrender. "Ooh, can't find a comeback?"
"Just shut up, Miala. We have a job to do."
* -
The man sitting at the desk in the power core of the mine was thin and fairly short. Unlike most of the other Guards in the mine, he was dressed casually, the only indication of his job a compact blaster in a holster at his side. He idly hummed a tuneless little tune to himself, pushed his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose then tapped a few buttons on one of consoles surrounding him. The fact that he was separated from a fatal fall by only a thin-ish layer of steel didn't bother him. He couldn't see it from where he was standing, so why should he worry?
He was a techie, the foreman of the operation, a computer expert who understood all the complicated machinery in the mine. He was also a bastard, being completely incapable of earning any sort of respect from the Guards under his command.
The face of one of the said Guards flickered into life on a monitor, jittering slightly from interference.
"Yes, Sir."
"Report, Beta squad."
"Alpha squad, Sir." This was said with barely disguised derision.
"Whatever." The techie waved his hand dismissively. "Any unusual activity?"
"Outer patrol is late for the shift change."
"And?"
"We got a call for turret activation a few minutes ago."
"And?"
"After that, the line went silent."
"So?"
"We think there may be intruders, Sir."
"And what evidence do you have?"
"Sir?"
The techie shifted irritably on his chair. These Guards were so infuriatingly dense sometimes. "I should put it in simpler terms. Have you seen any intruders, that is, with your own eyes? Have I radioed in to tell you to be on the alert? No. I have not seen any intruders, and it's my opinion that counts here, Beta Squad."
"Alpha."
"Alpha what?"
"Alpha squad...sir."
"Very good. Now get back to your patrol and I want no more drunken nonsense about intruders, is that clear?"
"Crystal, sir..." The Guard on the monitor was positively vibrating with suppressed rage. The techie thought he heard him murmur "you bastard" as the screen went dark again, but decided not to turn around. He could spill his coffee.
"Good help..." he muttered to himself, walking directly past a monitor that clearly displayed a blonde man giving it an obscene gesture without looking at it. This was followed by a girl's smiling face appearing upside-down and waving good-bye, before the transmission cut out completely.
All this made a faint whistling noise as it flew right over the head of the oblivious techie, who pressed a few random buttons before he decided to annoy the commander again.
This time the Guard took a while to appear, and when he did, his face was sweaty and he was panting.
"Sir, we got a serious situation down here-"
The techie smiled to himself – obviously the air-conditioning had cut out again. He had just thought that when an explosion rattled the view from somewhere off-screen.
"Those phantom intruders? They're REAL?"
"It's not ghosts killing my men, Sir!"
"How – how many?" the other man stuttered, wondering how just badly he had screwed up this time.
"There are two of them... a man and a woman."
"I mean how many casualties?"
The Commander's face was shiny with sweat now – though he was clearly making an effort to compose himself. "Fifteen."
"Fi-fifteen?!?"
Another loud explosion rattled out, followed by the sharp noises of gunfire... and someone screaming. "Sixteen now, sir."
"Who the hell are they?"
"The man... damn, he's fast... he's blonde... light hair...blue tunic...the rebel!"
"What?"
"The eco freak!"
"What about the woman?"
"She's got green hair... looks kinda young... shit, they just took out three more of my people! Sir, we need back up..."
"Is there an orange rat there as well?"
"What the hell are you babbling about?!"
"I guess not... look, I got two squads heading to your position. Just keep them away from the door..."
"Can't- --er- --- you're---reaking--" Then the picture went blank.
"Shit!" The techie rattled a few keys and when that didn't work, employed the age-old method of rapid repair – slapping the screen, which remained stubbornly blank. "What in blazes is going on down there? Answer me! Come in, dammit! Commander!"
"........." Only static now emanated from the speakers.
"Sweet Precursors..."The man slumped back in the chair, the realization sinking in – he HAD screwed up this time. Badly. Suddenly nothing seemed to matter any more.
In the background, the warning klaxons started to wail.
- * -
"Miala! Get the door!" Jak yelled as he loosed a few rounds at the squad of Guards racing up the corridor. He then gave a yelp as a bullet grazed his left hand. He swore loudly and nearly dropped his gun, but then caught himself and blasted away with one hand, though he was not as accurate as he had been.
"I'm trying, dammit! The defenses on this thing are no joke! SHIT!" she added, as the indicator light turned red for the fourth time.
"Just take out the wires! Like I did!" Jak howled, switching to his Vulcan Barrel and sending a hail of bullets towards the Guards. "Now would be a good time! Sooner, even!"
"There are bare wires in this thing! I'll get fried!"
"DO YOU HONESTLY THINK I GIVE A SH- THANK YOU!" Finally the door slid open, just in time for Jak and Miala to leap through it. It slammed shut behind them, nearly trapping Jak's boot.
Miala did not turn to help him up, too busy staring in awe at the chamber before them. It was-
But no collection of capital letters can possibly describe how very, very big it was, nor any collection of adjectives describe the insane complexity of the machines kept within. There were hundreds of them, lifters and conveyer belts and completely unidentifiable things. All of which were being used to shift something silver and glittering from one end of the facility to the other. The chamber was criss-crossed with dozens of interconnected catwalks, making it resemble a giant game of snakes and ladders. And at the very top, like a cherry on a cake, hanging suspended over a sixty-foot drop, the power core of the facility – widely known as the 'Techie Box' – was locked into the ceiling with half a ton of steel and stone.
"We should move," muttered Jak from his position on the ground, who'd seen it all before. Well, places like it, anyway.
Miala snapped out of her daze to reply, "Don't you think we should just rest for a bit? No way anything could get through that door. I locked it. And anyway, I reckon the hard bit is over, don't you?"
A premature statement, as it happened. Because it was then that the thirty- strong squad of Guards thundered out of the door on the left.
"Yes, Miala," Jak said sarcastically. "I don't think the hard bit is just beginning."
- * -
The techie was furious. The intruders had breached the mine! His mine! On his watch! And now they were walking around in the center of the mine as though it was nothing! And they had blasted about a third of the Guards in the facility to get there. Just one man and a kid!
He called in another squad, a big one, hoping that numbers would finish them off. Even though it hadn't worked before. It was all he could do! And they were not – were NOT – getting into this room. No way in hell. He commanded this operation, dammit!
"I'M the commander here!" he shouted at no one as he pounded on his desk, just to reinforce his thought. The Baron had appointed him to this position. The Baron trusted him with the second most dangerous resource in the planet – after Dark Eco – and he would NOT screw it up!
Another loud explosion rocked the room and his conviction evaporated. After dithering in the center of the room for a few seconds, another explosion rattled the room and he finally locked down security and hid.
- * -
Jak was fighting almost mechanically now, his hands and feet on automatic, when he felt a presence uncoil in the corner of his mind. Something powerful, reeking with darkness. It was so strong...it was almost as if a clawed finger tapped him on the shoulder, as if a harsh voice whispered in his ear...
'Let me out.'
He shook his head slightly as he ducked an over-ambitious swing from a Guard, then slammed his knife upwards into his gut. The girl was just a few metres away...
'It'll only take a few minutes...'
'I don't need you!' Jak thought furiously, but he might as well have been shouting at Daxter. Jak felt pain start to build in his temples, cold, slithering, horribly familiar pain...
"Miala! RUN!" he screamed, actually dropping his gun to collapse on the ground, his hands clutched around his head.
"But-" She glanced at the door, then back at Jak. She couldn't leave him on his own, but a faint, ominous purple glow was starting to build around him...
"GO!"
The girl wavered uncertainly for a second more, then saw the animalistic snarl on Jak's face and decided not to argue. She had just reached the door when horrible screams erupted from where Jak was... almost against her will, she turned to look... just as a huge purple flash of lightening exploded, burning smoking holes through armor and flesh.
"AAAARRGH!"
A Guard FLEW straight out of the throng, seemingly flung bodily by something... he screamed as he collided with the wall, then slid down it, broken like a toy.
A second Guard staggered backward out of the jostling mass of armor, clutching his face – because half of it was gone, ripped straight away from the bone. The front of his uniform was coated with blood. Finally he collapsed, twitching and jerking.
Miala stared goggle-eyed as something silver and incredibly fast shot out of the circle, twisting and slashing with razor-sharp claws. The – thing – carved through the gaggle like a hot knife through butter, crushing the Guards with terrifying ease.
Suddenly, it stopped. A dead stop. Just like that. No forward movement at all. And it turned.
Miala found herself staring into eyes dark as night, a liquid blackness... like pools of Dark Eco. Eyes that, though so horribly changed, clearly resembled Jak's. His tanned skinned had changed to silver, blonde hair to ghastly white, and the creature's lips were stretched in a fanged, but completely humorless smile.
It... he had become a demon. The Eco-Freak she'd heard such stories about.
The result of the failed 'Dark Warrior' project... and now the scourge of Haven City.
Dark Jak.
Frantically she started pounding on the door, as the thing that had once been Jak advanced, dark eyes shining with murderous intent.
- ~ -
Necralis: (is humming vaguely to 'Messij' on the Wipeout soundtrack)
Vader: Necralis. NECRALIS!
Necralis: Da da da-da da da da, da-da-da...
Vader: (thinks for a second then inhales deeply) CL-
Necralis: (hand shoots out and seizes Vader by the neck) Don't. Call. Me. That. (drops him on the ground)
Vader: (gasping for breath) Well, I just thought you oughta know that we're ON!
Necralis: Mm hmm? (continues to hum happily, tapping the rhythm out with one of her handguns)
Vader: (pulls out her headphones and screeches in her face) WE'RE ON, YOU BLASTED AIRHEAD!
Necralis: Really? (continues to hum to music she can't hear)
Vader: Oh, forget it. She's lost in her own mind again. (puts the headphones back in) Well, as you can see, Chappie four is done and done. Please review! (loud screech as Necralis is jerked out of her fantasy world and into harsh reality)
Necralis: Oh god no... (starts sobbing brokenly) I can't deal... (suddenly perks up as she gets used to it) Chappie 4-is up ready-to-voo... (realizes she is talking to the rhythm of the music she is listening to and rips out the headphones) Yeah. Hope you enjoyed it! It was so hard to write because I was struck down with a MASSIVE writer's block (THAT IS HAPPENING TOO FOIKING OFTEN!), however I still hope that you REVIEW and give me a reason to liiiiive! (Lets out a shriek of totally insane laughter) Wheeee! Or should I say... squee? ^^;