Good day to you all. Well, I said that I didn't know when I would be able to get this chapter out, but I suppose that a burst of creativity can go a long way in helping one out in that department. To those of you kind enough to review.
Lunatic Pandora1-I appriciate that you like what I'm doing with Torn and the others, I just hope I don't take it too far and start making them OOC, (insert nervous laughter).
Shakai- One showdown, as promised, hope you like it. As for your other remarks, yes there will be some torture in a couple of up and coming chapters, and good luck on beating Jak 2, as it can be pretty frustrating at some points.
Light Eco Sage- Much as it pains me to admit this, school is something of a necessary evil, though there are times when I wonder when am I going to apply things such as derivatives and integrals in my life. Regardless of my woes, I'm glad that you liked the chapter, and I hope this one is just as enjoyable.
TUG- I'm glad you like what it is that I am trying to do with the other characters, and be sure to let me know if I start making them to OOC. As far as Brutter is concerned, he is one of the more ignored characters from the game, and I was trying to think of a good way to introduce him, so the idea of him being a Underground soldier on the side sorta appeal to me, and do I detect a sense of paranoia about what the Lurkers could be up to, hehe?
Farr2rich- Glad you like the story, and the one you're thinking of sounds pretty interesting. I'm not sure what you meant by screen name, and if its something to do with AOL, then I am afraid that I don't have it. As far as Kitetsu is concerned, that blade is the property of Team Ninja, so feel free to go ahead and use it. Best of luck to you, and thanks for reviewing.
Something Stupid- Once again, you manage to think of a new angle that hadn't occurred to me, and as a result, I feel like something of an idiot. Thanks to your suggestion, I went back and installed a suppressor mod on Jak's magnum, though I'm not certain if I managed to incorporate it successfully. Please let me know what you think, thanks.
To everyone else: I hope you enjoyed what you read, and what you continue to read.
To the devil's asso...I mean, um lawyers, I own nothing of these characters, so please, no suing.
Also, this chapter is quite obviously MUCH longer than anything I've managed to create before, so if there is a typo or something, I apologize in advance. I proofread this thing three times, but I can't shake the nagging feeling that I missed something.
At any rate, time for a showdown.
&
Long Awaited Confrontation
Though there was nothing short of a full scale blizzard roaring outside, the mood among those in the Underground base was quite jovial. It was, after all, yuletide, which when combined with the success of their raid last week, meant that just about everyone had a reason to celebrate.
However, while elves may have danced to the music that was playing, or chatted with one another near a small refreshment table, one person hovered back in the shadows, his body giving off a nearly palpable aura of solitude. Jak didn't mind the strange looks he got from others who wandered by, perhaps curious as to why the dark elf was not participating in the festivities.
The reason was simple enough, this party brought back some very bitter sweet memories. The last time he had celebrated this time of year, as he did not count the two he had spent getting pumped full of Dark Eco, had been back in Sandover. It had been shortly before Gol and Maia went maverick, and began laying waste to the whole region.
That last yuletide had been special, more so than any of the others he could remember. A small, bitter smile made its way across his face as he remembered Keira asking him to stay a little later than the others. It had been there, without Daxter or her father to interrupt them, that they had shared their first kiss. It had been brief, but it conveyed the feelings that both had felt for each other.
That had been the happiest day of his life.
Joy, it seemed such a foreign emotion to him now, almost as if he had forgotten how to feel it. Nearly without exception, all he found himself capable of expressing these days was hatred, bitterness, contempt, and sorrow over himself. In the end, he could trace it all back to Praxis and Errol. They were the reason that so much had happened to him. They were the reason he had lost everything, his innocence, his humanity, his happiness and many other things.
More than anything at that moment, the former Channeler simply wanted to be home, to be back in Sandover with Daxter, Keira and Samos, just as things had been three years ago at this time, back before he had arrived here, back before all those things had happened to him, back before he had become this hatred driven, icy-hearted warrior that he was now.
His sorrow was so great that it gave even his inner demon anxiety, and the Eco infused elf had felt its presence within his mind for the past several minutes. It seemed as though it wanted to know what was wrong with him, like it wanted to know how it could help ease the pain of its host. Gently, as he did not wish to hurt it, which he did find strange, he dismissed it back into the recess of his mind, and continued to let the darkness of his current reality try to swallow him up.
For hours, he remained where he was, leaning against the wall of the large room, his mind filled with a strange combination of images of he and his friends together, and the many tortures that Errol had put him through in prison. Suddenly, he could take it no longer, and something within him snapped. He had to do something now, he couldn't wait any longer to set his plan in motion.
The dark elf looked around the room. The vast majority of the resistance members were currently occupied in doing something, such as Daxter, who was now flirting with Tess, quite shamelessly at that, while Torn had been very comically yanked out onto the dance floor by Ashelin, who had somehow managed to sneak away from her duties long enough to drop in. At the moment, it seemed quite obvious that no one would miss him, so the former Channeler parted himself from the wall that he'd been leaning against for heaven only knew how long, and quickly made his way to the room he shared with about five other soldiers.
He arrived shortly thereafter to find it deserted. That was good, it meant that he didn't have to think up any sort of B.S. to try and explain what he was about to do. His hands nearly trembling in anticipation, Jak belted on his gun and slung Kitetsu over his shoulder, before putting on one of his coats, both to try and dull the bite of the cold, and to cover up the fact that he was about to walk outside in the middle of a snowstorm with his weapons, which would no doubt arouse suspicion from other Underground members.
With a deceptive amount of causality, he strode to one of the doors of the hidden base, and informed one of the guards that he was heading out to get some fresh air. He got a look, but the elf opened the door anyway, and allowed him to step outside.
Almost instantly, he was assaulted by the howling wind and the stinging frost in the air. Shoving his discomfort aside as he had so many times before, the dark elf began to double time it towards the power station. With any bit of luck, Vin would be working the graveyard shift today.
As they were quite sympathetic to the rebel cause, and more than a few recognized the elf who had managed to single handedly traverse the under siege mining operation to rescue their friends, Jak had little difficulty in both gaining access to the plant and finding out that Vin was indeed busy working at his station, which was concerned with monitoring the power going to the city and the Shield Wall to ensure that it did its job of keeping the Metal Heads outside of the city.
"Hello, Vin." the former Channeler said as he walked in, promptly causing the jittery engineer to yelp and whirl around, clutching his chest.
"Don't do that! You're going to give me a heart attack!" he screeched, earning him a look from Jak.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're a little…high strung?" the Eco infused elf inquired.
"A few times." Vin answered, before apparently having clamed down enough to realize who it was he was talking to. "Oh, I never got the chance to thank you for bailing me out back at the strip mine." he said, before rushing up to shake the dark elf's hand.
"Well, I actually came here because I need a favor done." Jak told him.
"If it's about your Eco bill, I'm afraid you've got the wrong department, but…" the aging elf started, but Jak was quick to cut him off.
"No, nothing like that." he said, shaking his head, and causing a confused look to come over Vin. "I'm on a mission for the Underground, they've authorized a hit on the Baron, and I'm the assassin."
"Soooo, what do you need me for?" Vin asked, scratching his head and appearing even more baffled than before.
"I've been told that the service elevators in the Palace support towers would lead all the way up to the cables. I was planning on using them to get into the compound, but from what I understand, they're run by an older section of the power grid, one that was shut down a while back."
"You aren't kidding." Vin muttered, adjusting his glasses. "Those things belong to the old B-zone grid, that thing hasn't worked in nearly four years, there's no way its going to…"
"Alright," Jak said, bringing up his hands and waving them slightly, "I understand, after all, bringing a dead grid to life probably is a little too much for one tech-head to handle."
That was the key, and Jak knew it. For an instant, the engineer across from him gawked like an idiot, before a flush came over his face.
"Too much to handle?" Vin said in a voice as close to a growl as he had probably ever used, before storming over to his control panel.
The engineer then proceeded to verbally walk himself through a process that Jak could only assume had something with redirecting the power supply to the towers. However, after about word number three, he was completely and thoroughly lost, and he watched, awestruck, as Vin's hands verily flew over the various control surfaces, moving with a speed and dexterity that one would not have thought possible, given his age.
"And presto! You've got instant lift juice!" the aging tech-head exclaimed, once more pivoting around, but this time with a massive, triumphant smile upon his face.
"Vin…you're a genius." Was all the dark elf could say.
"Actually, Mar was the genius." Vin responded, suddenly becoming subdued and finding his shoes quite interesting.
"What do you mean?" the former Channeler asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Well, the legends say that he built everything here," the engineer told him, gesturing around, "the Shield Wall, the Eco Grid, everything."
"Sounds like he knew what he was doing." Jak mused, before turning around to leave.
"Well, if the legends are correct, they also say that he didn't work alone." Vin said, almost as an afterthought.
"What are you talking about?" the dark elf asked, looking back over his shoulder.
"Well, some of the myths give reference to someone else helping with the planning of the city, someone called "The Praetor" or something like that." the older elf said with a shrug of his wiry shoulders. "I personally never gave it much thought, always believed it was the product of some overactive imagination, but you'd be surprised at the theories bouncing around in some of the books I read at school."
"Care to indulge me?" Jak asked, taking what he found to be an unusual interest in history.
"Oh, I've read hypotheses that put it as being anything from some kind of wacky machine, to an elf of some far off land, and the most outlandish ones even claim that it was a Precursor." he informed the dark elf, ending the last bit with a weak chuckle.
"Hmmm, interesting." The former Channeler muttered.
Nodding in a dismissive manner, and walking out of the room, Jak mulled over this strange bit of information.
Picking up his pace, he hustled back outside, noting that the storm was starting to subside, and made for the nearest support tower. Hopefully, before dawn began to light up the eastern horizon, he'd be on his way back, with Praxis', and if he was really fortunate, Errol's heads grasped in hand.
Vin bit his lower lip as he watched Jak leave. There was something strange about him, something that the engineer couldn't place, and frankly, while Jak had been the one to save his life, he felt more than a little nervous.
However, that thought was quickly pushed from his head as the comm. went off, beeping to a signal that could mean only one person was calling. but what in the Precursors name would Torn want at this ungodly hour?
Tess laughed merrily at one of the rare instances where Daxter delivered a punch line that was actually more than a little funny. It was strange, how quickly she had taken a liking to the little rodent, his blatant lack of courage aside. However, before Daxter could launch into another tale of him and his blond haired compatriot, there was the sound of someone gruffly clearing his throat behind her.
She pivoted about and Daxter peeked around her shoulder. Torn was standing behind them, his arms crossed over his chest, and an irritated look upon his face.
"Hey there, Tattooed Wonder, saw ya earlier, way to tear the floor up." Daxter said in a cheeky manner.
This had the once in a thousand lifetimes effect of causing the hardened Ex-Delta to lose all traces of his composure and go beet red in the face, while at the same time also causing him to ball his fists up to the point where it looked as if he was going to strangle the Ottsel. However, years of dealing with ignorant officers and other such situations had taught him a great deal of patience, though the fuzzy orange rat standing in front of him was certainly pushing him to his limits. Slowly, the fists unclenched, though what he said next still came through gritted teeth.
"Where's Jak?"
"Wha'cha want him for?" Daxter asked, eyeing him strangely.
"The Shadow's decided that it's time to meet him, but now that he finally does, I can't find your friend anywhere." Torn all but snarled.
"Well, the last time I saw him, he was moping over there," Tess said, pointing to the place where Jak had been not too long ago, "looking like he just wanted to be left alone."
"Well, he's obviously not there now." Torn stated matter of factly.
Strangely enough, the answer to Jak's possible location came just seconds later, as an elf who had just gotten off of his guard shift informed the commander of what had transpired during his watch. Needless to say, Torn was baffled. Daxter, however, felt a sinking feeling start to develop in his gut, and no small amount of fear made its way through him.
"Uh-oh." the Ottsel muttered.
"What do you mean by uh-oh?" Torn asked, his eyes glaring down upon the rodent.
"Oh nothing," Daxter quickly amended, laughing nervously, "I think I might have just left something on back in our area of the barracks."
The tattooed resistance soldier was not convinced, and promptly snapped the diminutive former elf up by the scruff of his neck, despite Tess' protests.
"What was that? I couldn't hear you." Torn growled, his tone threatening.
Sighing in defeat, the Ottsel proceeded to tell his captor what he thought might have been going on.
"You know about Jak's…issues…and that he's been wanting to pay the Baron back ever since I sprang him out of the slammer." Daxter said, earning him a nod from the elf. "Well, patience was never one of his strong points, so I think he might have tried to do things himself."
Torn was so shocked that he nearly dropped the rodent upon the ground. Jak going after the Baron by himself? For a couple of moments, the Ex-Delta wondered if the dark elf had somehow become unhinged. Trying to take the tyrant on alone, that was crazy and Torn knew it. Not only was Praxis a skilled warrior in his own right, but he would doubtless have a lot of protection around him, especially after the raid they had conducted.
Then of course, there was the small matter of actually managing to get inside, as Torn was quite certain that Jak didn't intend to waltz up and ring the door bell.
"How exactly do you think he might try and pull this off?" the haggard warrior inquired of the Ottsel.
"Weeeeeellll," Daxter said, his brain attempting to come up with a plan that Jak might think about, and he suddenly remembered the conversation they had had that day, nearly two months ago now, with that mysterious contact, who had informed his friend of the elevators. "Someone once told us that he might have been able to use those support cables keeping the palace up to get in unnoticed."
"But the power to those things has been out for…" Torn began, before trailing off.
In a single blurred motion, the tattooed commander had ripped his comm. unit from his waist, and punched in a set of numbers. His face becoming more twisted in anger by the second, he waited for a certain informant to pick up.
The storm had calmed, but at his current altitude, the wind still howled, and threatened to blow him off his rather precarious position. Not helping was the fact that the person who had designed these things had obviously never heard of a handy little lifesaving device called "handrails", meaning that at any moment, a wrong step would send him plummeting a good nine or so hundred feet to the ground. Still, he pressed onward, making his way towards his goal, entertaining visions of Praxis' lifeblood staining Kitetsu within his mind.
Still, he was left with the question of how to do it. Should he kill him with a gun, a single bolt through the head? No, he thought quickly, determining that it would be too quick. Perhaps a decapitation, then? Again the dark elf decided against that. While bloody, that would be a death given to a warrior, as it had a certain grim nobility to it, something he did not associate with the man responsible for nearly diving him insane. Tossing him over the edge of the palace? No, while that would definitely have a great deal of satisfaction to it, too many things could go wrong, and once again, it was too quick, he wanted Praxis to suffer.
Eventually, he just gave up and decided he'd think of something once he had Praxis on his knees, helpless and at his mercy. Right now, it would probably be more prudent to watch his step. It was, after all, a very long way down.
Vin pressed a button at his station, and Torn's visage sprang to life on a consol screen. The gray haired elf stepped backwards, surprised, not only by the fact that the hardened Ex-Delta was contacting him, but by the furious expression on his face, which probably would have even caused a Metal Head to quiver in fear.
"Torn, what do you…" he started.
"Did Jak come by to talk to you?" the commander snarled.
"Wha…" the tech-head started.
"Did Jak come by and speak to you about anything?" Torn shouted, causing the engineer to recoil in fear.
"Y, yes, he did." Vin stuttered, and Torn nodded for him to continue, encouragement that was not necessary. "He, he said that he needed me, to um, restore power to the B-zone grid so he could use the support tower elevators."
"And what reason did he give for that?" the other elf inquired, his tone venomous.
"He said that you guys wanted to have Praxis assassinated. You, you did give him that order, right?"
"As much as the idea of reading about Praxis' death on the front page of tomorrow's newspaper gives me a happy feeling, now would not be a good time." Torn responded, and Vin could tell that there was a very, very powerful rage building just below the surface of the tattooed resistance soldier.
That rage exploded approximately two seconds later as Torn launched into a tirade that would have made a Wastelander go red in the face, caused elven mothers to cover the ears of their children, and resulted Vin in squeaking like a small rodent and trying to curl up in a ball in a vain attempt to disappear.
"That damn fool is going to get himself killed!" Torn shouted, his gaze drifting to a person that the engineer couldn't see.
"What can we do?" came another voice, this one higher pitched, and Vin realized it was that strange creature that had been with Jak on the day of his rescue.
"Not a thing. Not a damn thing." Torn responded, his tone quiet, but still angry. "If they capture him, they'll torture him until he gives up this base." He remarked out loud.
For a time, everyone remained where they were, with none knowing what to do about this rogue Underground fighter. Daxter was rapidly becoming beside himself with concern, despite Tess' attempts to calm him and his own knowledge that Jak was more than capable of taking care of himself under the vast majority of circumstances. Torn was living up to his name, being of two different sides about it. Part of him, the part still loyal to the memory of Damas, hoped against hope that he'd rip the traitorous son of a bitch's heart straight out of his chest. However, the soldier within him was half hoping he'd fail; it'd serve him right for doing something this foolish.
Trying as it was, they forced themselves to remain where they were, realizing that nothing they could do would change the situation.
Though you wouldn't be able to tell by looking at him, Jak was greatly relieved when he got off the cable, and just about every fiber of his being prayed that he would have an alternate route available once he had taken care of business, as he had no desire to backtrack across that Precursor accursed thing yet again.
Rapidly as he could, he slunk through the darkness, emulating the shadows as well as any professional assassin could. The dark elf had been preparing himself for this task for weeks, and had spent long hours when no one else was around memorizing plans of the palace compound. As far as he had been able to reason, at this time of day, as it was by now early morning, Praxis would logically be sleeping soundly, which meant he would have to navigate his way over to the other side of the place.
It would hardly be a challenge.
Thus, imagine his amazement when he happened to wander by one of the large skylights that looked down upon the throne room, and beheld two, very, familiar figures standing inside.
It took every bit of self control that he could muster not to suddenly leap down through the glass, and try to take them both on then and there.
Even so, he probably would have, had he not suddenly realized that there was something else within the room as well. Memories flowed and he felt a bit of instinctive horror rise within him as he stared back at a hologram containing the visage of that creature that had tried to come through the Rift Gate, the beast that haunted and mocked him in his dreams. At long last, Jak realized what the monster had been. Here, was the image of the leader of the Metal Heads himself, the supposedly all powerful monster that had hunted the Channelers to the brink of extinction. Enthralled, the Eco infused elf got down on his knees, and pressed his ear against the glass, and watched the conversation with one eye. A normal elf still would have had problems hearing what was going on, but once again, with the price of his humanity had come the "blessing" of supernatural senses.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't send an extermination force straight to your gods-forsaken Nest right now!" Praxis snarled, his right hand gripping his blade hard.
"Now, now, Praxis, no need to act irrationally, your last few shipments had been insufficient to meet our needs, and so we simply took it upon ourselves to make up the difference." the creature replied, its tone smug.
"By razing our mining operation to the ground!" the tyrant roared. "I swear, I have half a mind to bombard your disgusting home into a glass crater!"
"Threaten me and my children like that again, my dear Baron, and I assure you that this deal will be effectively null and void," the Metal Head Leader retorted, its smugness replied by an icy hiss, "and it will officially be open season on elves as far as I am concerned."
"You wouldn't dare!" Praxis shot back.
"I hold all the cards, usurper, superior forces, more resources, and a mind infinitely more intelligent and cunning than that of a petty opportunist such as yourself, yet you think to tell me what I can and cannot do?" now it seemed amused. "Your arrogance astounds me, Baron. I have, in my mercy, offered to spare you pathetic little town in exchange for a small tribute, and you cannot even meet those insignificant requirements." it told Praxis, and the elf opened his mouth, only to find himself cut off yet again. "And do not even think of attacking my Nest, oh Ruler of Haven. You tried that once already, and even though you had a Channeler fighting alongside you, your military has yet to fully recover from that little disaster."
Praxis' shoulders slumped, and his grip upon his blade loosened, this thing had back him into a corner, and everyone present, including the eavesdropper, knew it.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked, rubbing the metal plate covering the left side of his face.
"The same thing any creditor wants," the Metal Head leader told him, "for you to keep up with your payments. And I warn you, Praxis, fall short again, and I will lose patience, and it will be your gods-forsaken home that pays the price." it ordered, turning its head slightly in Jak's direction. Two of its eyes abruptly widened. "Oh, and Praxis, I would suggest that perhaps you keep your eyes peeled inward a little more often. Some of your enemies are closer to you than you think."
With those words, the hologram vanished, and a notable change came over the two elves standing there. Praxis seemed to become calmer and more confident, while the sociopath standing next to him, lost anything even vaguely resembling control.
"He's toying with us!" Errol exclaimed, whirling around to face his superior, his face twisted into a mask of nearly psychotic hatred. "Let me lead an assault on the Nest, I can take him!"
"Calm yourself, Errol." Praxis said in a considerably more civil tone. "You and I were both there last time we decided to do something like that, you know what happened as well as I. Throughout history, armies have challenged those monsters, and none could withstand them, even Channelers have been vanquished before his might." The Baron said, his good eye staring at the commander. "He'd swat you aside like you were nothing more than a bug."
"So what would you have us to do?" Errol inquired, crossing his arms over his chest.
"The same thing that we've been doing: teaching them to feed from our hands." Praxis responded. "We play helpless, and when the time is right, we strike." the despot paused for a moment, apparently mulling things over in his head. "And step up the search for Alexander. I swear, if you spent half as much time looking for him as you did flirting with that mechanic chick, we'd have pinned his royal ass to the wall a long time ago!"
This caught Jak's attention, and he wondered…na, the odds of them being the same…
"Furthermore, tell my daughter to double up her patrols, I want that tomb found." Praxis continued, drawing the dark elf's attention back to the conversation at hand.
"Oh, and speaking of your daughter, I found out a little something that you might want to take an interest in." Errol said with a snap of his fingers.
"And that would be?" his superior prompted.
"Well, you wouldn't believe…" Errol said as he glanced upward, before abruptly trailing off.
In an instant, Jak was gone from his position, but that instant had been enough.
"What is it, Errol?" Baron Praxis inquired, noticing the suddenly change in the other elf.
"He's here." was all the K.G. commander said, all that he needed to say.
"Hmm, to think we wasted all that effort looking for him, and here he comes to us." Praxis mused aloud. "Begin the containment operation as planned, commander, we're going to finish what we started."
The soldier nodded as his superior stormed out of the throne room, heading for his private armory.
The former Channeler growled, cursing this newest complication in his plans. Still, he refused to allow something like this to cause him to abandon his vengeance, he had come too far to give up now. And so it was that he continued looking for a way inside the palace, his legendary determination not allowing him to despair.
"There's got to be some way inside of this place." he remarked.
"I'd recommend the chimney, but it's already reserved tonight." came an answer.
Whirling about, and drawing his weapons at the same time, Jak came face to face with the object of his hunt. Praxis stood before him, sporting some type of strange, black combat armor that he had never seen before, and holding a large assault rifle in his hands, with a rather nasty looking second barrel slung underneath the primary one. The dark elf could also see that the Baron was still carrying his large blade, a strong indication that he probably didn't just haul it around for show. On cue, a gust of wind kicked up, teasing the edges of Jak's coat, and whipping a bit of snow past the two.
"Really, Praxis, I already have enough reasons to kill you, you didn't have to go and add bad one liners to the list." the dark elf remarked, a twisted grin making its way to his face.
"So you're here to kill me, eh boy?" the despot remarked, feigning surprise. "Well, it seems we are at a disagreement about that. I'm afraid you won't find me to be quite the prey you imagined."
"We'll see about that." Jak remarked.
For a moment, the whole world seemed frozen in time, as these two archenemies measured each other up. Then, the fight began.
Jak made the first move, diving off to his left, firing his magnum all the while. Praxis leapt in the opposite direction, moving with speed and agility that one would not think possible given his age. The tyrant came up shooting, his rifle spitting rapid three shot bursts at the dark elf. The former Channeler could feel the heat as the Eco sped by, coming within inches of making contact, and was forced to quickly re-evaluate his estimation of Praxis' combat abilities.
However, this was not to say that Jak was in any way inferior to his nemesis. The dark elf proved this by tapping into his enhanced physical abilities, and performing a super-human leap, completely leaving the Baron's field of view, and getting off no less than four bursts from his pistol. The shots hit home, but did not penetrate the armor that Praxis wore. The older elf retaliated with several bursts of his own once he had lined Jak back up in his sights, and while the dark elf was able to harness his unnatural agility or sword skills to dodge and deflect most of the bolts, Praxis did succeed in putting several holes in his trench coat. The former Channeler fired as he leapt again, but as it was before, the shots did nothing to his foe.
Realizing that much like a Crab Head, Praxis' armor protected him too well to be damaged by normal shots, the Eco infused elf quickly flipped his magnum to its charge mode, and held the trigger down, taking cover behind a three foot high raised portion of the palace while he waited. Reliable as ever, the magnum was soon vibrating, but the dark elf waited, his ears becoming his eyes. His muscles tensing, he waited for anything that would betray where Praxis was. Then, he heard the slight 'scrunch' as a heavy boot moved through snow. In an instant, he had sprang up and unleashed the charge up bolt.
Praxis' eye widened to about the size of an average dinner plate as he saw the small meteor come sailing in towards him. The Baron jumped to the side, but due to the homing capabilities of the blast, still had some of his facial hair scorched off and felt a stinging pain shot along the side of his face as bits of stone and metal pelted his exposed head. Still, he counted his blessings when he looked behind him and discovered an eight inch crater where the blast had hit.
The Baron growled, so Jak wanted to play with big noisemakers, ey? Well, he wasn't the only one packing high explosives. Praxis thumbed a switch on his gun, and reached for the pump handle on the bottom of the second barrel of the rifle. He then angled the weapon slightly, cocked it, and squeezed the trigger. There was a "thunk" and a bright red orb shot out of the barrel. It hit part of the palace wall, and bounced backwards.
Where it came to a rest right next to the dark elf.
Now it was Jak's turn to feel his eyes grow wide, and with a swear, he hurled himself from his cover. Still, the plasmite grenade was on a short timed fuse, and he had not gotten more than five feet away when it exploded. A scream tore its way from his throat when the heat washed over him. Pain that swiftly increased as the material of his coat over his right arm melted under the intensity of the blast, beginning to stick to his skin. Dropping his magnum, the dark elf threw himself into the slush and water in an attempt to cool down, and heedless of the consequences, grabbed his right sleeve and ripped it off, exposing the charred skin one associated with very, very bad third degree burns.
Willing away the pain and nausea of his wound, the former Channeler stood, picking his morph-gun up as he did so, and staring into the good eye of his foe, his own glowing orbs promising a thousand torturous demises. Praxis coolly loaded another grenade into his gun, smirking at his adversary, believing himself to have done a great deal of damage to the other elf. However, while the usurper had seen Jak heal rapidly in prison a few times, once the novelty of it had worn off, he had forgotten about it. He very quickly began to regret that little unconscious decision of his, as he watched the healing factor that his little experimental soldier had take effect.
Jak was quick to take advantage of the distraction, putting another charge shot dead on a collision course with his nemesis. Too late, Praxis realized his error, and was blown off his feet as the comet connected with his torso. He skidded for a small ways, finally coming to a stop perilously close to the edge of the palace. Instantly realizing the danger he was in, the Baron rolled away and leapt back up to his feet. No sooner had he done this, than a sharp hiss reached his ears, and he looked back to see Kitetsu imbedded within the spot he had occupied a mere moment ago. At the same time, he registered the condition of his armor. Most of the plating in the target region had been slagged by the bolt, but thankfully, none of the more delicate electronics had been harmed, or the future could have looked bleak indeed.
Returning his attention to the battle, he fired another grenade and as he expected, Jak dove away and to the right, trying to get far enough away so that he didn't have to risk getting blown off the edge. Now realizing it would probably take far more to incapacitate his opponent than he had originally expected, the tyrant fired on the dark elf with reckless abandon, and Jak felt more pain work its way through him as the bolts tore through his clothing. Still, he accepted the pain with little more than a grunt.
He fired again, but this time the Baron was ready, and dropped flat at the last minute. Quickly, Jak ducked behind cover and loaded a new clip into the morph-gun, before springing out, not wishing to get another grenade fired at him. What instead met him was another barrage of rifle bolts as the despot got back to his feet, having taken advantage of the lull in the fighting to also reload. Kitetsu was quick to intercept these shots, sending them ricocheting about. This had the humorous effect of causing Praxis to drop back down again as a few whizzed back towards him.
By this time, Praxis was beginning to lose patience, both due to the sheer stubbornness of his opponent, and the fact that Errol seemed to be taking his sweet time getting the rest of the men into position. Opting to err on overkill, and assuming that Jak would not be permanently injured by what he was about to do, Praxis quickly loaded yet another grenade, and fired. No sooner did the first one leave the barrel of his rifle, than was another one loaded and fired, arcing over the small battlefield like a flare. As for the dark elf, well, he leapt out of the way of the first one, only to find that his foe had been watching him carefully and had predicted almost exactly where he was going to leap, and that there was already another plasmite explosive there waiting for him. Jak was quick to vault backwards, but the concussion of the explosion was still sufficient to blow him off his feet, though it was not enough to liquefy any more of his clothing.
Still, that was small consolation to the blinding pain that lanced through his skull as he impacted against a wall with enough force to make a small crack in it. His morph-gun and Kitetsu dropping from suddenly nerveless hands, Jak felt his world going black. Desperately, he fought a losing battle to stay awake, realizing that to surrender to the pain would mean recapture, and even more of the hellish experiments.
It was then, that the dark elf was once again saved by his guardian devil.
Praxis smirked as he observed the apparently unconscious elf, and was about to radio in for Errol to get his skinny rear out here and secure Jak before anything could go awry when it happened. He heard a crackling sound, and saw dark lighting course its way down Kitetsu's length. Puzzled, he stared at the blade, suddenly recognizing it for what it was. How? How could that katana have returned after all of these years? He had been in the assault, had gotten mangled because of it, and he knew what Damas' fate had been. So how had his sword returned?
Suddenly, Jak twitched, and the Baron started to storm forward to club him with his rifle. However, he stopped dead in his tracks when he the dark elf looked up, revealing his eyes to be orbs as dark as the night. With an utterly inhuman growl, "Jak" leapt back to his feet. Praxis watched, his entire body seemingly paralyzed, as the former Channeler's skin became pale, and the blond hair faded to ashen gray, while horns and razored claws sprang from head and hands.
To have observed the creature on a security camera, and have read about what it was capable of was one thing. Standing in front of it, not ten feet separating them, the tyrant realized, was something else entirely. Praxis knew a moments' fear, and then the creature was upon him.
The demon's talons lashed out, and a horrendous shriek split the air as the Baron found his rifle cut into several smaller and considerably less effective pieces by the swipe. The creature then lashed out with a vicious roundhouse kick, fury driving it to inflict pain upon this elf, this elf that had for so longed dared to harm its host.
The Baron found himself in a position quite similar to what Jak had been in not too long ago, and smiled bitterly at the irony of the situation. However, even as he looked up to see the demon standing over his, its arm stretched out and the moonlight shinning off of its claws, the creature seemed to hesitate.
It was confused, as its host, now having recovered from the blow that had been dealt to him, was commanding it to back off. Not fully understanding, but realizing that it probably had something to do with its host wanting to finish the job himself, the creature withdrew to the recesses of Jak's mind.
Disbelievingly, Praxis watched as the dark elf returned to normal. The former Channeler kept his eyes shut for a moment, thanking his inner demon for its timely assistance, to which the creature responded with an emotion Jak could only describe as being something along the lines of pride. However, the Eco infused warrior was quick to move and retrieve his weapons, contemptuously turning his back on his opponent.
Kitetsu was again, warm to the touch, but he did not allow himself to dwell on this strange effect. Instead, he turned back around, and watched as his foe got back to his feet. Jak knew he could end it right here, but he didn't. He didn't just want to kill Praxis, he wanted to make him suffer, to humiliate him before finishing him off. And so, he holstered his gun, and began to casually twirl the dark katana in his right hand, waiting for the Baron to pull himself together. Praxis, eager to take any break he could get, got back up and drew his sword, assuming a combat stance.
Jak was about to enter his own, when a sharp pain went through his head. For a moment, he was not here, was not locked in a fight to the death with his nemesis. He was in what looked like some sort of training dojo. Before him, dressed in strange armor, was an elf, with Kitetsu grasped firmly in one hand. In short bursts, he saw the strange warrior move about, striking at invisible opponents, moving in a manner he had never seen before, yet recognized on some primitive level.
He snapped back to reality, realizing that the whole ordeal had lasted less than a second. A smile made its way over his face yet again, and he changed his pose.
Baron Praxis watched, his brain refusing to believe what he was seeing. Jak had the dark blade held in one hand, his grip upon it reversed as if it were a knife. The former Channeler then leaned forward, placing his weight upon the balls of his feet and brought his right arm to where it was elevated slightly above his back. To complete the picture, Jak stuck his left his left hand out in front of him, and tensed his body, his eyes locked onto his opponent.
A single word flashed through the Baron's mind: Ataru. For an instant, a paranoid delusion made its way through his head, a sudden thought that Damas had somehow returned from the dead to seek vengeance for what Praxis had done to his family and city. Fortunately for him, rationality quickly regained control. Unfortunately, that did not dispel the fact that Jak was about to come at him with a style that almost completely foreign to him.
Ataru was a sword style known only to a select few, the Mar lineage being among those who did practice it. It was an unorthodox way to battle, its techniques focusing more upon being fleet of foot than strong of sword arm. Aggressive, but still focused, it was hard for most to master, but in the hands of a skilled user, such as Damas had been, it could cause enemies to literally stampede over each other in an attempt to get out of the way. Praxis had also sparred with his brother-in-law on a few occasions, and had had his rear handed to him every time, gift wrapped, and usually with a small bow attached.
So it was for good reason that he let out a tiny gulp as Jak charged in, screaming incoherently at him. Thanks to his armor, he was able to get his own sword down in time to block Kitetsu's initial strike, but before he could counter, the dark elf was no longer in front of him.
He spun about to his right, once more stopping the dark katana, but not reacting fast enough to dodge the kick that slammed into his titanium faceplate with enough force to dent it. His damage inflicted, the Baron's opponent vanished as he thrust forward with a deceptive amount of strength. Once more, the attack came from the right, as Praxis realized that Jak was using the fact that he was blind on that side to try and get at him. Still, he only had to delay a little longer…hopefully.
For a third time, the former Channeler blurred in, the runed katana seeking to bathe in the lifeblood of its adversary. Praxis just did manage to block as Jak jumped up and spun about, his blade level with the tyrant's throat. Once finished though, Jak did not execute a hit and run type attack, but pressed on, Kitetsu coming in from every conceivable direction as the Eco infused elf slashed, thrust, chopped, and cut at the usurper, nearly breaking through the Baron's defenses on several occasions. All the while, he knew that the creature within him was watching this, analyzing every detail, observing every parry, dodge, and counterstrike.
Finally, the Baron caught a bit of a break, as he was able to riposte one of the former Channeler's blows, throwing the dark elf off balance. Now, it was Jak who found himself weaving and dodging and blocking Praxis' assault. The former Channeler was confused, to say the least. How was it that the Baron was able to match his strength and his speed, unnaturally enhanced as it was?
Another blow came in, and Jak managed to block, but the power of it drove him to his knees. However, in doing so, Praxis made a critical and unconscious error, from which he learned a lesson he never forgot. He learned that if an elf is put through an experimental procedure that bestows upon him incredible strength, speed, and rapid healing, and that if said elf has a grudge against you, it is usually unwise to take a course of action that results in that elf suddenly being eye level to your groin.
His one eye widened to where it could have possibly rolled out of his skull, and his breath left his lungs as he leaned forward. Through the pain, instinct kicked in, and he whipped his head back just as the blade of Mar came in at his skull, slicing through the plating and drawing a line of blood that stretched from his right cheek all the way to the left part of his scalp.
Jak pressed his attack, his broken knuckles healing while he darted around, coming at Praxis from all sides, still wondering how the tyrant was keeping up with him. Still, even if Praxis somehow managed to defeat him, the dark elf took grim pleasure in the fact that he was pretty certain Ashelin would not be having any siblings in the near future.
At last, one blow did manage to get through his adversaries defenses though, and the sound of rended metal once more resounded through the chill winter air. What startled the former Channeler, however, was not the blood seeping down Praxis' side, but the small arcs of electricity that accompanied them. Suddenly, he focused with his ears, tapping into his sensitive hearing once again. At first, there was nothing, but then, he heard it. Above the sound of Praxis' labored breathing, and barely detectable with the wind, was the sound of a mechanical whirring.
That was it! That was how Praxis was staying with him, how his blows were so strong. Somehow, his armor was powered; the Baron was using his protective gear as a means of supplementing his combat skills. Well, such a device had to have a power source of some sort, and Jak intended to find it.
Praxis was more than a little confused when his foe suddenly stopped trying to end his life, and instead became content to dance about, as if mocking him. Still, as before, he was going to take any break he could get, as the tyrant knew he had to end this battle quickly. Even with this experimental combat shell helping him out, he was beginning to tire, and he was very lucky that the dark elf he was facing hadn't damaged anything too vital with that last stroke, both on the armor and him.
"Come on, Errol, any day now." Praxis muttered, wondering what in the nine hells was taking so long.
The Baron thrust forward, and Jak once more dodged out of the way. This time, however, the Eco infused elf chose to dance to the left, rather than the right. Though he could still see him, Praxis had made the mistake of thinking Jak would go in the other way, as he had been doing thus far. This sudden change of tactics on the part of the dark elf threw him completely off guard, and turned his exposed back to his adversary. Jak's eyes widened as he saw the strange, box like protrusion that stuck out about two or so inches from the rest of the armor plating, and he instantly recognized it as the Achilles heel of the protection.
Before Praxis could recover, Jak raced forward, and bringing Kitetsu up from below, sliced through the power supply in a shower of sparks and short-circuiting wires. Praxis felt his armor go from being nearly weightless, to a two hundred and fifty odd pound turtle shell in a matter of seconds. Before he could keel forward, however, the dark elf appeared in front of him, kicking out and ensuring that he landed on his back.
Now utterly helpless, the Baron watched as his creation leaned over him, a dark grin upon his face. The former Channeler looked his downed adversary dead in the eye, before spitting in it. As Praxis shook his head in an attempt to clear his vision, he realized that Jak was bringing the dark katana he carried up above him, turning it to where it was point side down.
"Game over, chrome dome." Jak hissed, his voice filled with anticipation.
He was just about to plunge the blade downward into the despot's stomach, ensuring a painful and drawn out death, when his inner demon snarled a warning. Having learned to trust the creature, the dark elf suddenly leapt into the air. As he flipped around, he saw no less than fifty K.G. commandos that had shown up, and heard the sound of Eco bolts hissing through the air where he had been not moments before. In an instant, his magnum was out, and Blue Eco flew from its barrel as he gunned one down. However, as he touched down, he was forced to immediately throw himself to his left, once again taking cover behind one of the palace structures, as a firestorm tried to intercept him.
Stuck where he was, he pondered his courses of action. To remain was suicide, or perhaps worse. Furthermore, there was now no way in hell he would be able to skewer Praxis, much to his fury. That was unless…
He quickly felt deep within his mind, consulting with his alter ego. The creature, fearsome as it was, was hesitant to engage such a vast force, uncertain it could defeat them all. This uncertainty was reinforced when Jak heard tramping coming from the other direction, and he realized that there was another force coming in to try and catch him in a hammer and anvil type tactic. It was then that the demon suggested an option that he had refused to consider up till now: fleeing. Much as he disliked abandoning a goal so close to success, the dark elf was forced to agree with the creature, and braced himself for something that would mean either his death, or living to one day come back and finish the job.
Bolting from his hiding place, he stormed across the roof, taking several hits in his sides as he did so. Then, all present watched as he hurled himself over the side, more than a thousand feet from the ground.
Errol rushed over to the ledge, accompanied by several other yellow armored commandos. They were just in time to watch Jak, who by this time had nearly halved the distance between himself and the ground, flip around, and plant Kitetsu into the side of the palace, using it as a means to slow himself down.
"Sound the alarm, put everyone on full alert!" the commander exclaimed, looking at those beside him. "Make sure he doesn't escape!"
As they rushed to obey, he rushed over to his superior, quickly trying to determine whether or not he was alright.
"Took you long enough." Praxis growled.
"Sorry, Sir, but we had a hard time getting everyone up here, we really should have sprung for larger elevators." Errol responded, his tone apologetic.
"Remind me to have that done later." Praxis conceded. "As for now, help me get out of this thing, it's getting hard to breathe!"
"Yes sir!" his second in command said, before proceeding to remove the now useless armor as quickly as he could.
"And someone get me a damn medkit!"
Thirty feet from the ground, he yanked his blade from the wall, and hit the grass around the palace grounds, spreading his legs to absorb the impact. Realizing that it would not be long before this place was swarming with guards, he bolted for the gates. Realizing any bit of stealth that he could get his hands on would be needed, Jak thumbed a button on his magnum, and the suppressor that Krew had given him suddenly formed on the barrel.
It started to carry its weight a few minutes later, when the dark elf used it to gun down a pair of K.G. that were on patrol. The former Channeler was forced to admit, the mod did its job well, as the usual loud boom was replaced instead by a muffled cough. Rushing past their bodies, he paused, remaining in the shadows as best he could, looking for a means of transportation.
That problem was solved merely moments later, as a speeder bike came by, about fifteen feet from the ground. The Krimzon Guard driving it never knew what hit him as he slipped off and fell to the ground, a neat hole burned through his temple. Jak bolted, and then leaped up, making what should have been a nearly impossible jump with relative ease.
Unfortunately, this action was spotted by another bike, and even as Jak got the speeder into the proper gear, and zoomed away, he was picking up a pursuit force that would include no less than a dozen very upset K.G., who were firing at him recklessly.
Muttering vaguely about history repeating itself a little faster than it normally did, Jak set about, making random turns and trying to do anything in his power to get rid of the small armada on his six. In addition to the various evasive maneuvers, he also spat in the face of the odds, and looking back, took aim and fired his pistol at his pursuers. Most of the shots went wild, but one or two hit home, killing one of the guards and causing his bike to crash into the pavement below.
However, that still left more than eleven tailing him, and if possible, made them even more determined to kill him. Things were getting ugly, fast, and he knew it. Once more, the dark elf found himself begging providence for an option, for a way out, though he realized he had already pushed his luck far more than any one person had a right to. Such were his thoughts as the chase continued throughout the early morning.
Still, it seemed as though he might just live to fight another day, as he suddenly came into the port area. Once again, those loading cranes might just be what would save his neck. Diving down to where he was about twenty or so feet off of the water, he shrieked towards the closest one. Now, if only the K.G. would play along.
They were happy to oblige, firing at him with zeal. Finally, one bolt hit the bike, and Jak suddenly jerked on the controls, putting the bike into a spin that made it appear to be out of control. His pursuers watched, smiling to each other as the zoomer explode when it hit the loading crane. They made a single pass over the wreckage, noting with satisfaction the lack of a body, meaning that the would-be assassin was either drowning at the moment, or was in pieces.
Cheering amongst themselves, they zipped back to report their success to their commander and ruler.
Baron Praxis was in the medical ward, a steady supply of Green Eco slowly healing his wounds, while a considerably larger I.V. bag filled with morphine went into his left arm, numbing him to the considerable amount of pain he was in.
That was the condition that the patrol leader found him in when he stepped inside to report. He stood at attention, waiting for either the Baron or Errol to give him the go ahead.
"Well, get on with it!" the commander snapped, clearly in a bad mood.
"Sir, were pursued the target to the port region, where we managed to terminate him." The trooper responded.
"Did you see a body?" Praxis inquired, his mind still relatively sharp considering what he had been through.
"No Sir," the soldier said, shaking his head, "but the water in the harbor is fifty below zero this time of year, he'd be paralyzed by the shock of the cold and drown. Even if, by some miracle, he managed to climb out, hypothermia would get him in a matter of minutes. Plus, that assuming he even survived the crash."
"Did you see…a body?" the tyrant asked again, his voice lowered to a dangerous growl.
"No…" the man began.
"Then he is still alive, sergeant." Errol said, his back turned to him. "This elf isn't normal. He's a survivor, and I for one," he said, whirling around suddenly, "will not believe he is dead until I see his corpse paraded in front of me. Even then, you can bet that I'll be taking a real close look at it."
The trooper shuffled his feet, not sure what to make of this. He was grateful when Praxis waved his hand dismissively, and told him to leave.
Back at the harbor, a hand suddenly shot up out of the water, grabbing a metal support on the pier. It was quickly followed by a second, and then a body, as Jak hauled himself out of the subzero harbor. Once up on the pavement, he shivered as the liquid crystallized, turning into ice on his skin. A burning pain in his left leg and arm also demanded his attention, and he bent down to rip out a few pieces of shrapnel from his body. From there, he stumbled towards the Hip-Hog, its large mascot glowing in the distance.
&
Whew, finally done with that one. Once more, I'm sorry if this chapter wasn't as good as previous ones, as I'm not sure how well liked this battle was between Jak and Praxis. I always thought that the one in the game was too...detached, that the two of them should have been quite literally getting in each other's faces, if you know what I mean.
Anyway, the usual message applies. Feel free to leave any comments, criticisms, etc., etc. so on and so forth. Also remember to have a great day. As for me, well, I do believe I managed to pick of a case of Carpal Tunnel Syndrome or whatever it's called.