Chapter Six: Sorrow
"...Remember Sig, anything suspicious is to be reported immediately." Came Torn's voice from the beige communicator in Sig's large brown hand. Sig hated taking orders from Torn, mainly because he had no respect for the stuck up ranks of the KG. Torn knew how he felt about it too, because he made sure he got the message across nice and clear. But Torn had his reasons, and if he could have asked Jak to go he would have.
Sig surveyed the crumpled buildings and toxic marshes of Dead Town. According to some of the slummers near the wall exit, they had seen mysterious figures go in and out of dead town. Yet there was no evidence of such a claim. The only footsteps in the muddy ground were his own, and he highly doubted that they walked through the acidic water.
He stepped forward and withdrew his beloved peacemaker. Sig marveled at the way her silver shaft shone in the sunlight. He raised her to eyelevel and swept his sights along the horizon. Empty as a wompbee's nest in winter thought Sig, and he lowered the peacemaker, holding her loosely at his side.
With a few long strides and a jump, Sig was off the first muddy island and on to the next. He moved with a muscular grace, carefully plotting his next steps in the rough terrain. His heavy boots sunk in the sticky earth, but it did not slow him down. With the peacemaker held loosely at his side, Sig quickly searched through the ruins of the forgotten town.
Sig paused and looked at the remaining area. The buildings, destroyed by the onslaught of metalheads, lay before him. After a few moments of contemplating on how he should tackle the area, Sig lifted himself up onto one of the concrete floors and looked around. His mechanical eye took in every detail of his surroundings, even as he started moving it did not waver. Every step he took was carefully planned and executed. The peacemaker was held up to eyelevel, ready to release the glowing ball of blue light at any moment. Sig carefully went around a corner, trigger finger tense with anticipation, then another corner and yet another. After a half an hour, Sig found himself deep in the heart of the ruined buildings.
Behind Sig a noise pierced the silent still air. In a blur of motion, Sig turned on the spot in anticipation of a possible attacker. His finger let up on trigger and the ball of blue eco was released from the peacemaker. Sig watched as the ball of eco whizzed through the air and hit the opposite wall with a satisfactory crackle. Sig looked up and saw some dust slowly descending, then looked down and saw the newly fallen pile of rubble. He loosened his grip on the peacemaker and held it in both hands in front of him. Embarrassed that his nerves had gotten the best of him, Sig kicked the pile with his huge boot.
"I need a vacation," he mumbled. Regaining his composure, Sig turned around to continue his search.
WHAM!
Sig flew across the hall and slammed into the wall. Adrenaline influencing his reaction, Sig quickly got to his feet and squared his body to his attacker while raising the peacemaker.
WHAM!
The peacemaker was quickly and forcefully knocked out of his hands. He rolled to the side to avoid the next blow. To Sig's surprise, his opponent was quick to recover from his dodge and began attacking once more. Sig didn't even have time to blink, let alone see what was attacking him. He ducked, jumped, and rolled to escape whatever or whoever's fierce offence.
His efforts to avoid his attacker landed him next to the peacemaker. He looked down at it and froze. The barrel had been bent and cut open, the grip was broken off, and the metalhead head (the defining characteristic of the peacemaker) was shattered.
WHAM!
Sig crashed through a wall and landed in the mud on a small dune next to the exit. White-hot anger blinded his instinct to run. He sprang to his feet and looked up at his on coming attacker. He had never seen anything like it. There, standing by the hole Sig had made was what looked like an elven-metalhead hybrid. The creature was black from head to toe, and its thick armor covered most of its bulky body, only exposing the face and forehead. A glowing purple orb was embedded in its chest; Sig recognized it immediately as a dark eco ore.
It's black elven face contorted into a toothy grin, showing a set of sharp pearly teeth. The creature crouched and, with spring like qualities, jumped through the hole and towards Sig. Sig set his feet and braced himself for impact. It hit him like a giant anvil, and pushed him towards the edge of the dune. The creature was surprised by Sig's show of resistance, which was all Sig needed to begin his offence. His first punch hit the side of it's face with such force that Sig though he had heard something break. The thing struggled to regain control, throwing punches and slashes, and each attempt failed to strike the target. Sig's arms began to become heavy as he through punch after punch, most hitting the creature with enough force to finish any ordinary metalhead.
Sig grabbed at the armor at the back of the creature's head and tried to through it into the toxic water. But the creature was quicker and flipped Sig over its head. Sig landed on his back with a thud. The creature maneuvered itself so that it was directly over Sig, and with a large clawed hand, grabbed Sig by the collar and threw a punch. Inches from his face, Sig caught the other's fist and sent it crashing down beside him. Rage drove his fists towards the creature and adrenaline kept them going.
By the time Sig had stopped his onslaught, the thing had been dead for a couple of minutes. Black blood was everywhere, and the creature's face looked like mush. Sig straightened and reached for the communicator at his hip. The small device clicked open in his hand, he pressed one of the small buttons, and with a beep Torn's face appeared in the small screen.
"What is it? Did you find anything?" Torn asked in his usual grumpy tone, rarely had Sig ever heard Torn in a good mood.
"Big problem," Sig turned the communicator around so that the beast was shown on Torn's screen.
Back at the Naughty Ottsel
"Sig! What happened!" said Keira, whose eyes were wide with shock as she looked upon Sig's bloody form. Everyone inside the bar turned to see Sig coming through the small door dragging something massive. Half way through the door the thing got stuck, Sig tugged at it forcefully. A loud crack echoed through the bar, and many of the unfamiliar faces jumped nervously.
"Don't worry Keira. I just ran into some unwanted trouble, and bagged me this..."
"AHHHH...A metalhead!" Sig didn't even have to see Daxter to know that it was his voice. Sig was just about to tell Dax to shut up when the whole bar exploded with panic. People streamed out of the Naughty Ottsel, making sure that they didn't get to close to Sig and the metalhead.
"Well now that the crowd's out, what happened?" said Daxter calmly. Sig, Keira and Tess looked at Daxter in disbelief. "What?"
"Before I start explainin' to you cherries I think we'd better wait for Torn."
"Don't bother, I'm here" came Torn's voice from the entrance. "Now what the hell happened?"
At the Stadium
Jak looked up at the timer. One more lap left and only ten seconds to do it in. Jak pressed harder on the accelerator, flying past the home stretch and around the first corner. He held on tightly as he whipped around the corner and struggled to stay in control. Straightening the racer, he leaned to the right, staying close to the shoulder of the curve. If he had not been so pressed for time, Jak could have, and would have, brushed the ground with his fingertips, mocking the track, and challenging her. But as was the case today, Jak was being pushed to his limits by the track, and as such, the track was mocking him. Five seconds left, he went around another corner and zoomed past a short stretch. Four seconds... Jak pressed hard on the break, in order to take a ninety-degree turn, and pressed hard on the accelerator. Three seconds, a soft left turn, and a right turn. Two seconds, nearly there. One second, on the home stretch. Jak blasted the boost. He crossed the finish line a split second to late.
"Shit!" muttered Jak. He straightened himself on the racer and slowed the velocity till it was merely hovering on the spot. He turned it around and headed for the garages. Keira's Garage was clean and orderly, the space behind the curtain was now home to 'Sting' the most advanced racer to date, and all Jak's. He said goodnight to Sting and closed the green curtains. He would have to talk to Keira about fixing the weight on Sting's aft, but other than that he was quiet satisfied with the handling. After making sure Sting was safe in Keira's garage, he limped down the hall stadium hall and exited the building.
People waved and stared as he walked passed. They still regarded him as the hero to the city, which was, in all honesty, getting old. Girls giggled in groups around him, and dared each other to talk to him. Racing fans asked for his autograph and young children pointed excitedly while hanging on to their parents' hand. But then there were also the people who disliked him, they were probably the people he had stolen zoomers from or the people he ran over. Either way he liked them better then the rest of the idolizing population, for they left him alone.
Jak looked down at the ground as he limped towards his zoomer at the bottom of the stairs. His leg was getting better slowly, but it was still very sore and stiff. No one understood why the green eco didn't heal him fully, but he knew that it had something to do with the dark eco flowing through his veins. He looked up as he neared his zoomer. A group of girls, all around his age, surrounded his zoomer giggling. Jak broke through the circle, pushing aside to brown haired groupies as he passed. As he was about to get on to his zoomer one of the girls touched his hand. A burning sensation spread through his body from the point of contact and a bolt of dark eco sent the girl flying. The group of girls screamed and ran over to their felled friend.
'Finish her, kill her' whispered the darkness, 'you know you want to.'
Jak could feel his darker side starting to break free. The desire to slash and kill grew inside of him. His heart beat uncontrollably as the war of wills raged once again in his mind. "NO!" Jak shouted, and placed a shaking hand on the handle and mounted his zoomer.
The Naughty Ottsel
Everyone was silent, even Daxter. After the retelling of Sig's encounter the group fell deep into thought. Torn paced while tossing his knife into the air. Kiera tapped her nails on the counter. Tess twirled stands of hair around her index finger, and Daxter slushed around the remaining contents of his drink in the glass. Sig knew what they were all thinking because he had already thought about it. Are there more of these creatures? Where did they come from? What are they doing in Dead Town?
"So," said Daxter after a couple minutes of pondering. Everyone jumped at the sudden break of silence. "I guess this means that you need a new gun, huh. Considering that your old piece of junk is scrap metal."
Sig was on his feet and strangling Daxter so fast that Daxter didn't even have time to react. "She wasn't a piece of junk!" roared Sig, and he let go of the purple faced Ottsel. "She was a magnificent piece of firepower, and no pee-shooter will ever replace her."
"The rodent has a point though," Torn cut in, "you will need a new gun, especially with Jak not up to par and with this new threat."
"I'm not your new errand boy Torn. Why don't you send those mindless guards of yours, or is there problems among the ranks?" quipped Sig. Torn's fiery eyes dimmed and looked down, Sig could see the weariness in Torn's expression.
"The fact of the matter is that you will need a new gun Sig, and Torn, you need to start putting the KG through their paces," Keira cut in. "And I'm sure Jak is able and would be more than ecstatic about going on a mission."
"Yeah!" added Daxter, "It's about time me and Jak got back into the picture."
"...Remember Sig, anything suspicious is to be reported immediately." Came Torn's voice from the beige communicator in Sig's large brown hand. Sig hated taking orders from Torn, mainly because he had no respect for the stuck up ranks of the KG. Torn knew how he felt about it too, because he made sure he got the message across nice and clear. But Torn had his reasons, and if he could have asked Jak to go he would have.
Sig surveyed the crumpled buildings and toxic marshes of Dead Town. According to some of the slummers near the wall exit, they had seen mysterious figures go in and out of dead town. Yet there was no evidence of such a claim. The only footsteps in the muddy ground were his own, and he highly doubted that they walked through the acidic water.
He stepped forward and withdrew his beloved peacemaker. Sig marveled at the way her silver shaft shone in the sunlight. He raised her to eyelevel and swept his sights along the horizon. Empty as a wompbee's nest in winter thought Sig, and he lowered the peacemaker, holding her loosely at his side.
With a few long strides and a jump, Sig was off the first muddy island and on to the next. He moved with a muscular grace, carefully plotting his next steps in the rough terrain. His heavy boots sunk in the sticky earth, but it did not slow him down. With the peacemaker held loosely at his side, Sig quickly searched through the ruins of the forgotten town.
Sig paused and looked at the remaining area. The buildings, destroyed by the onslaught of metalheads, lay before him. After a few moments of contemplating on how he should tackle the area, Sig lifted himself up onto one of the concrete floors and looked around. His mechanical eye took in every detail of his surroundings, even as he started moving it did not waver. Every step he took was carefully planned and executed. The peacemaker was held up to eyelevel, ready to release the glowing ball of blue light at any moment. Sig carefully went around a corner, trigger finger tense with anticipation, then another corner and yet another. After a half an hour, Sig found himself deep in the heart of the ruined buildings.
Behind Sig a noise pierced the silent still air. In a blur of motion, Sig turned on the spot in anticipation of a possible attacker. His finger let up on trigger and the ball of blue eco was released from the peacemaker. Sig watched as the ball of eco whizzed through the air and hit the opposite wall with a satisfactory crackle. Sig looked up and saw some dust slowly descending, then looked down and saw the newly fallen pile of rubble. He loosened his grip on the peacemaker and held it in both hands in front of him. Embarrassed that his nerves had gotten the best of him, Sig kicked the pile with his huge boot.
"I need a vacation," he mumbled. Regaining his composure, Sig turned around to continue his search.
WHAM!
Sig flew across the hall and slammed into the wall. Adrenaline influencing his reaction, Sig quickly got to his feet and squared his body to his attacker while raising the peacemaker.
WHAM!
The peacemaker was quickly and forcefully knocked out of his hands. He rolled to the side to avoid the next blow. To Sig's surprise, his opponent was quick to recover from his dodge and began attacking once more. Sig didn't even have time to blink, let alone see what was attacking him. He ducked, jumped, and rolled to escape whatever or whoever's fierce offence.
His efforts to avoid his attacker landed him next to the peacemaker. He looked down at it and froze. The barrel had been bent and cut open, the grip was broken off, and the metalhead head (the defining characteristic of the peacemaker) was shattered.
WHAM!
Sig crashed through a wall and landed in the mud on a small dune next to the exit. White-hot anger blinded his instinct to run. He sprang to his feet and looked up at his on coming attacker. He had never seen anything like it. There, standing by the hole Sig had made was what looked like an elven-metalhead hybrid. The creature was black from head to toe, and its thick armor covered most of its bulky body, only exposing the face and forehead. A glowing purple orb was embedded in its chest; Sig recognized it immediately as a dark eco ore.
It's black elven face contorted into a toothy grin, showing a set of sharp pearly teeth. The creature crouched and, with spring like qualities, jumped through the hole and towards Sig. Sig set his feet and braced himself for impact. It hit him like a giant anvil, and pushed him towards the edge of the dune. The creature was surprised by Sig's show of resistance, which was all Sig needed to begin his offence. His first punch hit the side of it's face with such force that Sig though he had heard something break. The thing struggled to regain control, throwing punches and slashes, and each attempt failed to strike the target. Sig's arms began to become heavy as he through punch after punch, most hitting the creature with enough force to finish any ordinary metalhead.
Sig grabbed at the armor at the back of the creature's head and tried to through it into the toxic water. But the creature was quicker and flipped Sig over its head. Sig landed on his back with a thud. The creature maneuvered itself so that it was directly over Sig, and with a large clawed hand, grabbed Sig by the collar and threw a punch. Inches from his face, Sig caught the other's fist and sent it crashing down beside him. Rage drove his fists towards the creature and adrenaline kept them going.
By the time Sig had stopped his onslaught, the thing had been dead for a couple of minutes. Black blood was everywhere, and the creature's face looked like mush. Sig straightened and reached for the communicator at his hip. The small device clicked open in his hand, he pressed one of the small buttons, and with a beep Torn's face appeared in the small screen.
"What is it? Did you find anything?" Torn asked in his usual grumpy tone, rarely had Sig ever heard Torn in a good mood.
"Big problem," Sig turned the communicator around so that the beast was shown on Torn's screen.
Back at the Naughty Ottsel
"Sig! What happened!" said Keira, whose eyes were wide with shock as she looked upon Sig's bloody form. Everyone inside the bar turned to see Sig coming through the small door dragging something massive. Half way through the door the thing got stuck, Sig tugged at it forcefully. A loud crack echoed through the bar, and many of the unfamiliar faces jumped nervously.
"Don't worry Keira. I just ran into some unwanted trouble, and bagged me this..."
"AHHHH...A metalhead!" Sig didn't even have to see Daxter to know that it was his voice. Sig was just about to tell Dax to shut up when the whole bar exploded with panic. People streamed out of the Naughty Ottsel, making sure that they didn't get to close to Sig and the metalhead.
"Well now that the crowd's out, what happened?" said Daxter calmly. Sig, Keira and Tess looked at Daxter in disbelief. "What?"
"Before I start explainin' to you cherries I think we'd better wait for Torn."
"Don't bother, I'm here" came Torn's voice from the entrance. "Now what the hell happened?"
At the Stadium
Jak looked up at the timer. One more lap left and only ten seconds to do it in. Jak pressed harder on the accelerator, flying past the home stretch and around the first corner. He held on tightly as he whipped around the corner and struggled to stay in control. Straightening the racer, he leaned to the right, staying close to the shoulder of the curve. If he had not been so pressed for time, Jak could have, and would have, brushed the ground with his fingertips, mocking the track, and challenging her. But as was the case today, Jak was being pushed to his limits by the track, and as such, the track was mocking him. Five seconds left, he went around another corner and zoomed past a short stretch. Four seconds... Jak pressed hard on the break, in order to take a ninety-degree turn, and pressed hard on the accelerator. Three seconds, a soft left turn, and a right turn. Two seconds, nearly there. One second, on the home stretch. Jak blasted the boost. He crossed the finish line a split second to late.
"Shit!" muttered Jak. He straightened himself on the racer and slowed the velocity till it was merely hovering on the spot. He turned it around and headed for the garages. Keira's Garage was clean and orderly, the space behind the curtain was now home to 'Sting' the most advanced racer to date, and all Jak's. He said goodnight to Sting and closed the green curtains. He would have to talk to Keira about fixing the weight on Sting's aft, but other than that he was quiet satisfied with the handling. After making sure Sting was safe in Keira's garage, he limped down the hall stadium hall and exited the building.
People waved and stared as he walked passed. They still regarded him as the hero to the city, which was, in all honesty, getting old. Girls giggled in groups around him, and dared each other to talk to him. Racing fans asked for his autograph and young children pointed excitedly while hanging on to their parents' hand. But then there were also the people who disliked him, they were probably the people he had stolen zoomers from or the people he ran over. Either way he liked them better then the rest of the idolizing population, for they left him alone.
Jak looked down at the ground as he limped towards his zoomer at the bottom of the stairs. His leg was getting better slowly, but it was still very sore and stiff. No one understood why the green eco didn't heal him fully, but he knew that it had something to do with the dark eco flowing through his veins. He looked up as he neared his zoomer. A group of girls, all around his age, surrounded his zoomer giggling. Jak broke through the circle, pushing aside to brown haired groupies as he passed. As he was about to get on to his zoomer one of the girls touched his hand. A burning sensation spread through his body from the point of contact and a bolt of dark eco sent the girl flying. The group of girls screamed and ran over to their felled friend.
'Finish her, kill her' whispered the darkness, 'you know you want to.'
Jak could feel his darker side starting to break free. The desire to slash and kill grew inside of him. His heart beat uncontrollably as the war of wills raged once again in his mind. "NO!" Jak shouted, and placed a shaking hand on the handle and mounted his zoomer.
The Naughty Ottsel
Everyone was silent, even Daxter. After the retelling of Sig's encounter the group fell deep into thought. Torn paced while tossing his knife into the air. Kiera tapped her nails on the counter. Tess twirled stands of hair around her index finger, and Daxter slushed around the remaining contents of his drink in the glass. Sig knew what they were all thinking because he had already thought about it. Are there more of these creatures? Where did they come from? What are they doing in Dead Town?
"So," said Daxter after a couple minutes of pondering. Everyone jumped at the sudden break of silence. "I guess this means that you need a new gun, huh. Considering that your old piece of junk is scrap metal."
Sig was on his feet and strangling Daxter so fast that Daxter didn't even have time to react. "She wasn't a piece of junk!" roared Sig, and he let go of the purple faced Ottsel. "She was a magnificent piece of firepower, and no pee-shooter will ever replace her."
"The rodent has a point though," Torn cut in, "you will need a new gun, especially with Jak not up to par and with this new threat."
"I'm not your new errand boy Torn. Why don't you send those mindless guards of yours, or is there problems among the ranks?" quipped Sig. Torn's fiery eyes dimmed and looked down, Sig could see the weariness in Torn's expression.
"The fact of the matter is that you will need a new gun Sig, and Torn, you need to start putting the KG through their paces," Keira cut in. "And I'm sure Jak is able and would be more than ecstatic about going on a mission."
"Yeah!" added Daxter, "It's about time me and Jak got back into the picture."