Author's note: Yeah, I want to know about the Mar-Jak connection as well, but since none of us will know until the next game comes along (and if I knew, I'd be sitting on my hands to keep from spreading the knowledge) I'll just have to go along with this.

Chapter 9, Raise your glass, mate

Water might be rationed to the last drop, but there are other things to drink. Especially in a town like Spargus, people sometimes needed to douse their worries with alcohol. Not that Damas had ever allowed drunkards, but considering the desperate need to survive most of the wastelanders knew to hold their liquor anyway.

The Black Oasis was located near the ocean, below one of the stone houses. The lack of sunlight kept it fairly cool, even if massive ventilation in the form of pipes leading outside were needed to keep people from choking of stale air.

The bartender looked up in surprise as the door opened and the sound of two pairs of feet – one of them irregular – coming down reached her ears. While the bar did keep open at all hours due to the varied shifts of the Spargus' population, most of the night workers had left half an hour ago and it was too early for the non-nocturnal peeps to show up.

She was even more surprised when she heard the voices before their owners came into view. The handful of remaining guests perked up as well.

"… never lost a race in my life."

"Now you tell me!"

Jak's blond hair was the first thing seen in the vague illumination. A triumphant grin remained on his lips while he stepped down the last step of the stair and continued into the bar.

"Too bad for them that Kleiver and Seem didn't know that either," Elda said as she too came into view, which raised a few eyebrows.

"Not Kleiver, he was going to have Dax for a snack if I lost."

Chuckling at the memory of the look on Daxter's face, Jak hopped onto one of the barstools. He had not really meant to be cruel, but after all of his miniature friend's "You're the sidekick!" and "I wanna sit on his shoulder", it had been a sweet little revenge.

"You bet your best friend in a race?"

Laughing, Elda sat down beside him.

"It wasn't my idea," Jak assured.

He turned to the barkeep.

"Morning, Etche," he said.

"Yo," she replied and then looked at Elda, "was a while, Madame."

"So it would seem. Still remember what I like?" the older woman asked with a wry smile.

The grin on the bartender's lips was almost evil.

"'Course! And you, Jak? Usual?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Sure."

"I'm paying," Elda cut in.

The woman behind the desk threw a few glances between the two, but quickly pulled herself together and whirled around to start preparing the drinks.

Elda turned her head and gave the rest of the dusky room a questioning look. A few of the other guests turned away, but most of them kept studying the odd pair. The queen smirked a little and looked back at Jak.

"Let them wonder," she said in a low voice.

"Fine with me."

He was really grateful for her decision regarding that. So much had happened in the last few days that he appreciated a chance to digest this new shocker before having to face new ones. He was fully aware that he most probably would be offered the throne of Spargus sooner or later, and he had no idea how to handle that option.

Etche was the only one who heard them, and she busied herself with crushing half a lime between two well trained fingers.

"I guess it's my turn to break my voice talking, now," Elda said.

Hardly noticing it as he intently watched her, Jak nodded.

"The house of Mar has always made sure to only have strong members," she said, turning to the polished stone of the bar, "Haven used to be filled with warriors. All the nobles were given their titles for bravery and victories. Hard to believe now, isn't it?"

"There are still strong people there," Jak said.

Elda nodded and smiled a bit.

"Yes, and it's a relief to know that. Considering what I heard about the last war, the spirit is still there."

"Right."

Somehow he managed to sound honest, even if he recalled a lot of soldiers loudly proclaiming their loss of hope. Most frustrating.

"My family rose up to greatness at the start of the Metal Head Wars," Elda continued, "and I met Damas."

The memory made her sigh softly, and she shook her head.

"Long story short, Praxis grabbed the power not too long after our wedding. We fled with a small group of allies, and came here. We hid in the marauder ruins in the wasteland at first, but from day one Damas led us to work on building better shelter. He was great like that…"

She fell silent.

"Hm," Jak idly murmured, unsure what to say.

They both stared down at the bar. It was far easier than to look the other in the eye.

I miss him, too.

It was painful to listen, and it must have been even worse to keep referring to Damas in past tense. But despite this Jak impatiently waited for Elda to continue. He wanted to know more, far more about his parents.

"The ruins could have been a good building ground," she finally begun again, "but there metal heads could come at us from all angles. By the ocean we had at least that to keep the land dwellers away, and here we could find better rocks to use for buildings as well."

She reached out and took his hand, looking up. Not until she started talking once more did he manage to meet her eyes, however.

"Spargus was almost finished when you were born," she said, a tiny smile gracing her lips.

Etche nearly dropped a glass, but Elda spoke in such a low voice that nobody else heard her. The queen went on without minding the bartender.

"Damas named you Mar to add to our hope," she said.

For a moment she paused and looked back down at the bar, sighing.

"The eco from our wells flourished when one of us carried you close to it," she said, squeezing his hand, "I guess… there was a rat somewhere who whispered to Veger."

Jak returned the squeeze, clenching his other hand until the fist shook.

"Whoever it was abducted you one night," Elda continued, speaking through her teeth now, "Damas led a troop hunting him down, but somehow he managed to slip away into Haven. After that, Sig got himself inside the walls by joining Krew, to look for you."

"I've been Krew's heavy for years, and I've done things I'm not proud of."

What exactly had it cost Sig to keep searching for his king's lost son? And despite that steel hard loyalty he had rebelled against that very king rather than fighting a friend, not even knowing the irony of the situation back then.

'Thanks, man… I owe you big,' Jak thought.

"I… was wounded and became like this in an attack by metal heads shortly after that," Elda said, interrupting Jak's thoughts.

She shook her head.

"Guess I wasn't able to focus properly on fighting. I was foolish, and Damas was furious for a very good reason. We made up eventually, but it took time."

Finally she looked up at Jak's grim face again, and managed to smile a little.

"But, I'm happy now, to have you back," she said, "it's made a lot of things worthwhile again."

She was about to add her crippled hand to the grip of his, but remembered the state of it in the last moment. At once she began to withdraw it. Jak quickly reached out and closed his other hand over hers, wrapping his fingers around the ones she had left.

It's okay.

Her smile widened a little, gratefully.

"We can probably write whoever took me away from you off as dead," he said, darkly humorous, "Kor was the one who brought me to the Underground."

The remains of Elda's eyebrows went up.

"Kor? As in, the metal head leader Kor?" she asked.

"Yeah, him. He wanted to make sure I found Mar's tomb."

'My tomb?' a runaway thought wondered.

He shook it off. The woman before him looked too high-spirited again for him to dive face first into such musings.

"Oh dear, dear…"

With an evil grin, Elda patted Jak's hands.

"Well then, at least I can amuse myself with nice images of the bastard's gory death."

"Oh yeah."

A similar grin crawled onto Jak's lips. Funny how such a huge creep could be useful.

Then again, Veger had been useful too, when saving the hero from becoming a divine rodent. Always something to his credit.

Muhahahaha.

Etche choose that moment to put the glasses with liquor down on the bar, and after doing so she quickly backed away. Those two were starting to sound scary, even for a wastelander woman.

Elda glanced at Jak's drink.

"Teskey on the rocks?" she guessed, "how simple."

She noticed the look on his face.

"What?"

"Is there an antidote to that?" Jak asked, unable to stop looking at the drink in front of his mother.

She picked up the glass and raised it, causing the neon green liquid to reflect the light of the nearest candle. It really did look lethal.

"Drinking should be an experience," she declared, "you only need a special kind of tongue to enjoy this."

With that, she took a sip. The effect was immediate.

"Eugh!"

Her face contorted in a grimace of pure agony, but at the same time she managed to wave at Jak's startled expression in a calming way. Coughing she set the glass down and gave Etche a thumbs up, watching the bartender through slit eyelids.

"Perfect!" the queen said, "puts rock grapefruit to shame!"

Her voice sounded quite a bit weird, however. Etche sent her that evil smile again, triumphantly this time.

"What the hell is that?" Jak asked, watching the offending drink with great suspicion.

"It's called 'Face Twister'."

Elda loudly cleared her throat, then took another small gulp with a similar result.

"Uhuh. I can see why…" Jak muttered, shaking his head as he sipped his by far milder teskey.

"Damas and I used to have competitions on finishing one these off as quickly and silent as possible," Elda said, her eyes pinched shut against the extremely sour taste gritting against her tongue, "it was the only thing I sometimes could beat him in."

The mental image of Damas' face stupidly contorting like Elda's just had done, turned out to be the first thought of his lost father that did not cause Jak any pain at all. He bent towards the bar, pressing a hand against his mouth to keep from spitting out the teskey as he chortled.

"Atta boy," Elda croaked, smirking.

That was when the door slammed open and Kleiver lumbered down the stair.

"Hey, poppy!"

Jak rolled his eyes but turned around on his chair.

"What?" he said.

"Ye seen that screwdriving friend a' ye's?"

The blonde blankly gazed up at the huge man, who by now towered above him.

"Who?" he said.

"That green-haired, timid little girl," Veger said from Kleiver's shoulder.

He looked awfully smug, beneath the constant look of exclusive suffering fuzziness of course.

"Keira?" Jak said, a confused frown starting to dig into his forehead.

"Yeah, she fixed me Shark pretty well," Kleiver said, unheeding the look on the short hero's face, "jus' wanna make sure she di'nt shrivel up after we left 'er with Sig. Would'a been a shame. Whaddaya lettin' yer weakling friends come here for anyway, this ain't no place for a gal like her."

"Wait, what's Keira doing here?" Jak demanded.

Kleiver looked down at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Ye di'nt know?"

"To answer your question," Veger cut in with all the slimy helpfulness that only one who only means harm can summon, "last we saw her, she looked like she was ready for the grave."

He flicked his tongue and looked up at the roof.

"Well!" he continued, "considering all the time she spent below that vehicle it really is no wonder."

Jak did not bother to listen to Veger's yapping anymore. He hopped off the barstool and started towards the stair in a quick stride, eyes growing harder for every step.

"I'll see you later!" he said over his shoulder, not even bothering to slow down for the quick goodbye.

"Now just hold on a second!" Elda protested.

She reached him quicker than her leg should have allowed, and grabbed a hold of his arm. Jak was forced to stop, turning around to face her. He could have easily broken free, but the stern look on her face held him.

"A bit of motherly advice," she said, "are you going to look for her because you're worried, or angry?"

Jak threw up his arms as good as he could considering the circumstances.

"I'm worried!" he snarled, "why the hell would she-"

"That I don't know," Elda interrupted him, "but it was probably for a good reason since she did it. Consider that while you look for her, alright?"

Jak glared at her for a moment, but finally nodded. While she did not look completely satisfied, she let go of him.

"Very well," she said, "I'll wait here for you."

"I promise I'll be back," Jak said, halfway up the stairs already.

Elda shook her head, sighing as she pressed a hand to her cheek. Still maintaining that position she headed back to her barstool.

"All grown up, he is," she murmured, tilting her head in a somewhat silly way towards Kleiver, "he's got to deal with things himself."

"Poppy's the real deal then?"

"I have no doubt about it," Elda said with an absentminded smile.

She suddenly perked up.

"Speaking of which…!"

"Yeek!" Veger protested as the skin of his neck was caught by the remaining fingers on the queen's right hand.

He pathetically struggled as she brought him to the height of her face.

"Say Veger, do you want a drink?" Elda asked, grinning evilly while slowly spinning the hand holding the Face Twister.

'-'

Author's end note: The Face Twister is courtesy of a bartender-in-training friend of mine, who probably has that special kind of tongue since she made that one up. Meep! Well, no, it's not actually as bad as I made it out to be. I think.