Corad: Um, for those of you who read 'Good Riddance'...thanks...but this is another songfic for no apparent reason. I kinda had inspiration again to write something new, and the next victim was Erol. So, by using this newfound inspiration and the selected victim of shame, I managed to create yet another idiotic peice of writing...kinda anyway...this story is based around our beloved commander (for me anyway...not sure if anyone else really loved him) and his thoughts before his "death". Hopefully it's easy to read and everything, so hope you guys can enjoy it.

Don't own Jak and Daxter, Tess, Erol, Praxis, Ashelin or the tub of lard that floats around in that hovering chair thing in the bar...you know, that fat one...oh, and I don't own Default's Wasting my Time either...which is probably a good thing...

Wasting My Time

The commander had been debating it for weeks now. Debating whether his time in the guard was worth keeping up. Lately the Baron had been giving him difficult tasks, and these weren't only physically grueling and dangerous, but mental challenges also. Numerous occasions saw the young commander kill innocent bystanders of an underground attack, and other times just made him want to quit then and there. He couldn't understand it all. One minute he'd be happy to fight by Praxis' side, killing the metal heads and ridding the city of scum, but now with all the pressure building up, he wished he could approach the high and mighty and just give it to him straight.

But he couldn't. The Baron was what kept him alive. Torn was out there somewhere, resenting his mere existence, Jak the renegade was also on the loose, most likely picking out the best time to kill him, and the metal head war would be lost without his guidance. Baron Praxis intended to win the war, but whether he'd succeed or not with the little force he had…

Well I don't want to see you waiting
I've already gone too far away

"Still hanging around Commander? Why not get some rest. I have another mission for you and your guards tomorrow, so if I were you, I'd take time off willingly," the Baron said after Erol had entered the throne room. The smaller elf looked up to the throne, his eyes burning with determination.

"Sir, I have something I would like to…" Erol stopped in mid-sentence, unable to bring himself to say it. He couldn't say "I quit"…he couldn't risk it. Years he'd spent gaining the Baron's trust and respect, and those simple yet deadly words could have his peaceful life shattered. If he even said something remotely like that, he knew the Baron would have him killed on the spot. Lately Praxis was strict on his code. His new laws riddled throughout the city, banning any enjoyment or freedom from the people. If he said he quit now, Praxis would surely see it as a threat. Would even think he'd sink so low as to join the underground.

"Yes commander?" Baron Praxis asked, resting his hands on his lap. Erol stuttered for a few moments, before turning his back. He couldn't say it. Those words once left his mouth would be a death sentence. No, he must keep fighting along the Baron's side, even if it killed him in the process. He felt it was a better way to die with Praxis' respect and honor rather than die a lonely soul who had been betrayed by his own leader.

"Nothing sir," he murmured, sighing in defeat. He made quick steps back to the door, and left, without another word spoken. 'Why couldn't I do it? I can't keep fighting for him…he's taking everything down to hell with him,' Erol thought savagely, storming past a few gawking guards he recently sent on patrol. Those guards were another reason he longed to quit. As commander, his men were meant to listen to him, and to do exactly what he asked. But for a while now they began to slack off. Missing schedules, partying hard into the early morning a day before a mission or patrol duty. Whether they were out to get rid of Erol or not, he just didn't care.

I still can't keep the day from ending
No more messed up reasons for me to stay

Right now he only cared for his dignity. He craved for respect and loyalty from his guards and the Baron, but over the past few days, he could sense if disintegrating. Baron Praxis was too busy planning ways of betraying the metal head leader and upholding his new laws, demanding Erol and his other Krimzon guards to murder anyone who disobeyed or showed a sign of threat. He spared no thought or sign of respect for his own commander, thus bringing Erol down into a pit of fury. His guards, the other reason he hated this damn forsaken place. He could tell those guards of his were mocking his every move. He accepted that he was hated amongst them for numerous things. Only the other day had he kicked one of his own men in the gut after refusing to kill a citizen breaking the law. After all that, Erol had been the one to shoot the citizen.

He felt guilty in a way at the falling victim, screaming out as his bullet penetrated their waist, but he didn't show it. To those around him, he was a tough ass fighter. He wouldn't let the sight of blood make him ill. In fact, he craved the sight…or at least, he had. Something within him had opened up recently. He could sense the blood lust darkness vanishing from within his tortured heart, and instead replaced by an almost light feeling. At times he'd fought it off, unwilling to give in to purity. He longed to stay the arrogant, aggressive man he was brought up to be.

Well this is not for real
Afraid to feel
I just hit the floor
Don't ask for more
I'm wasting my time
I'm wasting my time

But he wished sometimes the light could engulf him…take away the hidden pain of guilt and shame. Killing hundreds of innocent people over the years drew him to the dark. He thought about the day Torn left his side. Partners in a mission to destroy the underground movement once and for all. But after seeing Torn's face blanch at the sight of three children screaming for help as a few of his own guards took care of them for good…he had ordered that attack after the Baron threatened to kick him off duty. To give his commander title to another if he didn't start proving himself. But killing innocent children…was that worth it all?

"Where are you going?" Ashelin snapped at him, her hands placed on her hips in a demanding manner. Erol stopped dead in his tracks, his mind leaping from thoughts too rapidly to answer her. He wondered why she was checking up on him. Wondering why she cared where he went. She was like Praxis' very own spy. Just there to torment him and report any mistakes he dared show to her father.

"None of your business," he finally replied, continuing on down the hall quickly to lose her. He heard her yell out something to his receding back, but chose to ignore it. He had bigger things to worry about. Bigger things such as the first class race late this afternoon. He intended to crush anyone who made a move to beat him at that race. He lust for the championship again. Another trophy to add to his collection. Beating those scumbags would be an easy task.

Racing…Erol had always loved the feeling. How the air whipped at his face, how his mask turned his eyesight red…blood red…how the zoomer vibrated beneath him. He loved it all. On top of that, he also loved chatting up the mechanic girl. She was always there to have a conversation with. Always working hard on zoomers and on that mysterious vehicle she kept hidden, even from him. Talking with her made him forget his worries. Forget his pain and misfortune with being stuck in the guard. After he won this race, he would ask her to be his mechanic. His personal mechanic.

You can't stop the feeling
And there's no reason
Let's make the call
And take it all again
Woah again

How Keira had made him laugh. How she smiled up at him, unaware of the horrors screaming in his mind. She had no clue who he really was. No clue he'd happily kill to get what he desired. Although, he felt the need to kill disappearing from within him. After meeting her for the first time, he could tell she thought he was like the others. But now, he was sure she knew who he was inside. Especially after that Jak. How he longed to kill him…but deep down, he wanted him alive. Jak, the eco freak…the only one with a chance of ridding Baron Praxis. In a twisted way, he hoped the blonde could overpower the Baron, relieving the city from his brutal rule.

Jak seemed like the guy who could take the Baron down. After what Praxis did to him for two years, pumping the dark eco into his veins, Erol knew Praxis was on his hate list. He'd witnessed that torture. Even took part and helped out. He could remember the blonde strapped into the chair, looking weak from his last injection. He could hear the screams filling the prison room as dark eco swam through the boy's veins. But after it all, Praxis had claimed it a lost cause. Ordered for his death. Whether he would have killed the weak boy or not, he didn't get the chance to decide. Somehow he'd escaped by nightfall and had joined up with the underground.

'Matter of time' Erol thought with amusement, strolling towards the exit of the palace and stepping out into the light atmosphere outside. Cool air brushed at his face, and he smiled cruelly. "Perfect day for racing." He could feel his racing nerves already. He could sense them building up inside, and decided to head to the bar for a drink. Maybe he could kill down those burning nerves with a drink. Worth a try…

Months went by with us pretending
When did our light turn from green to red
I took a chance and left you standing
Lost the will to do this once again

"You here early eh? Race hasn't even started." Erol looked up in loathing at Krew, floating around the ceiling as he entered the bar. He hated him with his whole heart, but didn't let on. He needed Krew for his publicity, and mentioning the obvious to the fat idiot above him would only have respect and popularity diminish. For now, Krew was merely an advertiser…nothing more, nothing less.

"What will it be?" a cool female voice asked out loud as he approached the counter at the back. He sat down in a nearby stool, and leaned towards the blonde elf.

"Give me what you got," he said smoothly back, before lifting his gaze to Krew. "Any fans betted yet?" he yelled up to the ceiling, and he heard Krew fly down, his horrible face inches from his own.

"Why yes actually. You have most of the population on your side, although we have lost a few numbers to the new racer," Krew replied, fanning himself with his wooden fan grasped in his fat hand. Erol shuddered as the smell wafted over to him, but had other concerns on his mind.

"What other racer?" he hissed as a glass of brown liquid was pushed towards him. Krew chuckled deeply and floated back to the ceiling, still fanning himself. The girl who had just served him the drink turned her back and went back to cleaning glasses.

"Why, it's that renegade Jak. He's a marvelous racer…you have some serious competition this year," Krew drawled out, ignoring the look of horror on Erol's once calm face. The commander snarled loudly, and grabbed hold of his glass before raising from the stool. He stalked over to a booth and sat down on the grimy leather seat before resting his feet on the table. He could feel the anger building up inside. The same anger he felt whenever Jak's name was mentioned. The same anger that ate away at him whenever he was threatened into another mission by Praxis.

Well this is not for real
Afraid to feel
I just hit the floor
Don't ask for more
I'm wasting my time
I'm wasting my time

How could Jak ever beat him? The boy was a moron for even trying…for even thinking it! How dare he take away those who wasted their hard earned cash on his victory. 'Maybe it's a good thing he's racing…' a voice spoke out inside his mind, but he growled deeply and took a sip of his drink. He rested his head against the wall, and stared out the booth towards the blonde, still busy wiping the glasses. Something within told him she was a spy. Related to the underground no doubt. The way she flickered her eyes about…how she never spoke out of turn. Erol concluded she was just there to report Krew's sleazy behavior.

"Hey Sweet cheeks!" That voice…Erol's eyes turned to irritated slits as the orange rat and the boy strolled into the bar and up to the counter. He watched in loathing as Jak and his rat friend settled themselves down at the back. If he could, he'd happily leap out from the booth now and send a fresh, searing hot bullet into his head. But there were other ways of dealing with him. Instead, the commander pushed his drink carefully out of sight, and lay perfectly still, listening in to the conversation only meters away.

"Hey! Back to work toots!" Krew thundered, flying down to the blonde girl scratching the rat under the chin. Erol sneered at the sight. How pathetic…he was tempted to step out, here and now, but fought against it, and listened hard. Knowing Krew, he'd mention a few interesting things, which the commander was dying to hear.

"She's working beach ball! Quit ya yapping!"

"Watch it, or you'll be yet another trophy hung on these walls. Jak, I want you to throw the championship race. Just let Erol win…" Erol's eyes widened at the request, and he peered carefully around the booth side to see Jak's back turned to him, his face looking slightly shocked as Krew flew down to eye level with him.

"You bet against us?" Erol heard Jak ask, and he grinned widely. Krew wasn't the kind of man to bet on a new racer. He craved for money too much to bet on an outsider, with little chance to win. His attempts at getting Jak to forfeit were highly amusing, but he knew the stubborn mind of the teen.

"Jak…Jak…it's just business. You've become a symbol for those townies. They'll bet everything on a glimmer of hope. What better time to make money. Whaddaya say my boy?" Erol stopped peering around the booth after he heard Krew say that. Glimmer of hope? He felt Jak had the power, the ability to defeat the Baron, but what did that have to do with racing? Although…Praxis had stated a short tour of the Palace. Could the blonde be planning to attack and kill the Baron on the tour?

You can't stop the feeling
And there's no reason
Let's make the call
And take it all
I'm wasting my time
I'm wasting my time again
Woah again

"I'd say you're gonna lose a lot of money. I'm going to race, and I intend to win."

"Aaaggghhh, You little! You're becoming more trouble than you're worth. I wouldn't get too comfy if I were you. Everyone's expendable," he heard Krew hiss, triggering a simple thought within his mind. A simple thought that could save the city. If he could only see how the boy raced…could just see how much of a racer he really was, it could answer all his questions. Maybe even decide for him whether to stay commander in the guard or not.

Moving his drink aside, he pulled his legs down from the table and walked out the booth, his eyes turning to slits again. He reached the boy's back, and glared down at him.. "In a hurry to die boy?" Erol snapped, and he watched as Jak turned around, his eyes wide open and his face gaping at him. "We don't have to wait for the big race. We can do this right now. One on one, through the city, using accelerator rings. Hit every ring from start to finish…miss even one ring and it's over," he hissed with a hint of venom in his voice.

He was inches from Jak, and his burning eyes were searching through Jak's, his mind screaming to release his pent up hate now. But staring into those eyes began to take his anger and loathing away, but only just. "Keira already thinks you're a loser, and I'll prove it now, once and for all!" he finished, watching as Jak's face contorted with fury. Excellent, he had got Jak right where he wanted by the mentioning of the girl.

"You're on!" he said, whacking Erol's raised hand out the way. Erol laughed cruelly as he followed Jak out the bar. Now he could see the renegade race. He could see whether he had the skill to beat him in the championship. If he beat him now, then maybe the boy could bring hope to the city. Something Erol wouldn't mind supporting. The commander gazed around the port, and found a parked golden colored zoomer. He led it to an imaginary starting line just outside the Bar door, and jumped on. He positioned his spiked shoes at the tail wing, and rested his stomach on the leather seat. The vibration swept through him, and he snickered in enjoyment before Jak came beside him, sitting comfortably on his own racing vehicle.

He turned his face one last time to the blonde beside him, gritting his teeth, before pulling down his mask. His sight turned to red; just how he liked it. Up ahead he could see the first ring, shining eerily. He knew he must go through every one, or the eco freak would win for sure. If he could just stand his ground, and see how well the teen performed, then maybe the race would be forfeited after all.

I see you waiting
Lonesome, lonely
See you waiting
I see you waiting

The zoomer roared into life when the one on one race began, and he grinned as the smell of fuel filled his senses. How much he loved the smell. "Too fast for you!" he shouted out in a mocking way as he overtook Jak on the first ring. He could hear Jak yelling out to his rat friend, and was tempted to look around. But he couldn't risk it. One false move could send him off course. Instead, he lowered his head as far as he could to the handle bars. He pushed himself further into the seat to gain more speed, figuring the zoomer would go faster.

Compared to other racers, Erol admitted the boy was a tough opponent. They'd been racing for a few minutes now. He'd even managed short glimpses of the blonde as he dodged innocent people, while he just ploughed through them all. He didn't care for anyone else right now. Although he never did, he just couldn't give a damn if he killed someone while racing. As far as the commander saw it, it was their own fault for being there in his way. But he couldn't believe Jak would risk this race to dodge the idiots. Maybe the renegade knew he would win either way, or maybe he figured losing this wasn't such a big deal. If only he knew that this very race would determine whether or not he gained Erol's respect.

After a few more minutes, Erol could see the stadium ahead, and knew the last ring was coming up. He could see Jak out the corner of his eye, and could just see the unwavering look on the younger elf's face. He could read straight into him. Erol could tell Jak was keen to win, and by the looks of his deathly white hands gripping his handle bars, figured his heart was pounding heavily too. Just like Erol's was. But this was it. Whether the boy had enough guts in him to overtake the commander and kick his ass…he wasn't sure.

"Come on Dax!" he heard Jak scream out, and watched with open eyes behind his mask as Jak leaned forward, inching his way slowly past. Erol snarled in anger, and gripped his own handle bars tightly, grinding his shoes into the tail of the zoomer. Part of him wanted the boy to win, but another nagging voice inside wouldn't let his dignity go that easily.


Well this is not for real
Afraid to feel
I just hit the floor
Don't ask for more
I'm wasting my time
I'm wasting my time

Just as they turned the last corner, Jak swerved past Erol. He flew through the last ring, and held up his hands in victory as his vehicle began to slow down. Erol howled in defeat within his mind, but sat up just as he approached the celebrating boy and his rat. He lifted up his mask, and turned his burning eyes to the other elf.

"Don't get too cocky outlaw! Next time we race for keeps, and your head will be my trophy!" he shouted in fury, tugging down his mask over his heated face again. He moved his zoomer back into gear while lying back down, and revved the engine loudly. He could just hear the orange rat yelling "Ahhh, blow it out ya ear! You were bottle fed, weren't you!" before he flew from the stadium, his rage subsiding. Part of him was yelling in anger and annoyance, but another part was celebrating. The part of him that had given him ideas to quit the guard.

'If' he's that good a racer, then maybe he does deserve title. If he won the championship, he could save the city once and for all. He could kill the Baron, and give the city back to the people,' his conscience spoke out. He grinned slightly from behind his mask, considering this option deeply. If the boy did in fact win, then yes, he would get a free "tour" of the Palace, and most likely out of pure hatred kill the Baron on the spot. It was worth hoping for. Worth supporting. He would keep acting like the Baron's trusted commander till then, so he won't be suspected by Praxis. If he could race like he always did, and basically kill anyone who got in his way, then letting Jak win would be convincing enough.

Only, he'd stop himself before killing Jak on the race course. Other drivers will feel his wrath if they dared overtake him, but he knew for Jak to win, he must keep his pride engulfed side down inside him until the race ended. If he could control his more agonizing side for the entire race, Jak would surely win. "Praxis the moron won't know what hit him when Jak rocks up at his doorstep, looking for a tour of his "lovely" home," Erol cackled, heading back to the Chocolate Factory (Palace) to get some well deserved rest before the big race in a few hours time. He'd decided to let the renegade boy win, entirely to save the city. He wouldn't let eco freak win to gain his racing stats though. His racing stats he'd rather keep.

You can't stop the feeling
And there's no reason
Let's make the call
And take it all
I'm wasting my time
I'm wasting...

Corad: O...kay...for those of you who witnessed the 'Chocolate Factory' thing...that wasn't me...(nervous glancing) That was Bijoux...she kinda raided it before and added it in...and I'm technically too lazy to change it...besides, in a way if reminds me of Palace Stories...maybe I can do that...Baron Praxis turns the Palace into Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and then Praxis can be Praxis Wonka...or Willy Praxis...wait, that last one doesn't sound very nice...err, scrap that one. But yeah, I hope this song fic was ok. Erol's a big fav of mine, and I kinda wanted to make him out to seem less of an idiot he turned out to be in Jak3...errr, review if you want to, or have made it this far. For those of you who gave up halfway or right after reading the first sentence, at least ya tried...but if I feel inspired to right a new fic, then maybe...with a bit of luck, I will...toodles ppl.