Greetings, everyone, and I hope that you are having a great day, despite the fact that it is a Monday (shudders). At any rate, I finally managed to get this chapter done, though I fear it is quite sappy and clichéd at several parts for which I apologize for in advance.

To those of you who have reviewed.

Lunatic Pandora1- Yes, Dante has definitely had an influence on the way Jak manages to combo slicing with shooting. However, I feel obligated to warn you that something is going to happen to Jak in a few chapters which will alter the way in which he walks all over his opponents. Basically, his fighting style will shift away from that of Dante and more towards the likes of Vergil and another even more (in)famous silver haired, trench coat sporting, katana wielding army of one. As for your idea about the K.G. body surfing, I'll try to fit that in here somewhere, though I might have to substitute a Metal Head instead.

Shakai- Oh, dear, God! I, hated, that part of the game, easily one of the most frustrating areas in it. As for the meeting, I'm not sure about the fun part, as Jak is still waging something of a war within himself, but there will be some fighting, I can tell you that.

Dude- I'm glad that you liked it, and here is your update, may you hopefully like it just as much.

Light-Eco-Sage- Yep, they're going to meet up with each other, though I can tell you that things won't be peachy just to start off with, as Jak has yet to conquer some inner demons, by which I do not mean D.J. Hope you like it though.

SeventhSpanishAngel- Yep, the plot thickens, as they say, glad that you liked it.

Meowen- I'm glad you think that this is worth your time, but if you want to read the works of a real artist, check out some of the stuff by Weiila or Lizzy Rebel, those two are waaaaaaaaaayyyyyy better than I'll ever be.

Evil Manic- Yeah, the first time I saw D.J. make an appearance, my thoughts went to the el-gotho gunslinger, all Jak needs now is a red cloak and a Freddy Kruger style left arm, hehe. As for your equation, truer words were never spoken, my friend. I'm glad that you liked the last chapter, and I would be grateful for any ideas.

GoodMorningBeautiful2005- I'm glad that you enjoyed the chapter, and I'll try to keep my updates fairly frequent. Hope that you like this entry as well.

To those of you who read, but did not review, I extend my thanks that you hopefully found this worth your while, and that I haven't somehow scarred you for life.

To those parasites that call themselves lawyers- As I stated in the previous Thirteen chapters, I own nothing! So leave me alone!

That done, here is the next chapter, once again, I warn you that it is probably not my best work.

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Reunion

Keira held it within her hand. Some gave her looks as they passed, unsure of what to make of this teen who had ripped the piece of paper from the wall.

She had been skating by, trying to get to the forest to meet with her mysterious friend, when a K.G. happened to catch her attention. The red armored enforcer had been sticking something to the wall of a building. For some inexplicable reason, she had gone over to see what it was.

Now, she couldn't stop staring at the wanted poster that she had promptly grabbed as soon as she read it. Her heart and soul were a tangle of emotions as she looked over the words again and again, as they screamed in bold ink a name that she had only dared to whisper, a name that was one of three that she had clung to all these years.

The wanted poster named showed an artist's depiction of a male elf in his late teens. His blonde and green hair was swept back, and came to his shoulders. Eyes that burned with some strange inner fire stared back at her. They were set into a face that was handsome, but rugged at the same time, hardened, almost. He was depicted as wearing a blue tunic, and a black trench coat over that. His right hand was reaching down into the depths of the garment, almost as if he was pulling something out, and his left hand held a large pistol. However, the detail that was an absolute dead-giveaway, was the fuzzy orange rat on his shoulder.

Again, she read over the poster.

Subject Name: Jak

Wanted: Alive

Crime(s): Wanted on multiple counts of treason, the murdering of Krimzon Guards, destruction of military property, smuggling, attempted assassination…the list continued on, covering just about every single crime against the government that Keira knew of, and a few that she didn't, before finally finishing up with…three counts of reckless endangerment, five counts of resisting arrest with violence, and ten major traffic violations. Subject is to be considered armed and extremely dangerous.

Reward: 50,000 credits for information leading to his arrest.

A joy rose within her that she hadn't felt in what seemed like years. She had waited and hoped against hope that she would find evidence that both Jak and Daxter were alive, and here it was. And judging by the K.G.'s view of things, they had apparently been very, very busy. Still, despite her elation at knowing that the one she cared so much for was still alive, she couldn't help but wonder how he had been getting the resources for all that he had supposedly done. There were only two organizations that could have possibly given him what he had needed. The first was Krew, highly unlikely, considering that after this amount of time, that floating pile of Crisco would have sent him out to try to bully her into one thing or the other. The second was the Underground. But she still wasn't certain, as she would have thought that she would have run into him and Daxter by now if they had been in the resistance. Granted, she had been undercover, trying to obtain information from a certain commander of the military, but she still had to make stops there to drop off the data she had managed to pick up.

However, she quickly tossed such information aside as trivial, just grateful to the powers above that the Channeler was alive. She quickly hoped back up on her board, and zipped off in the direction of her mission, resolving that when she got back, she'd find him and Daxter, even if she had to tear the entire city apart to do it.

She leaned to the left, and the repulsor lifts on her hover board compensated for the sudden change in balance, which resulted in her neatly avoiding a large tree that had been in her path. While she may have appeared to have all her concentration focused on piloting the at times unstable board, she was in truth distracted. She just couldn't help it, her thoughts kept drifting to the joyous find she had made, and now the nervous anticipation of what Jak and her fuzzy friend would think when the saw her next.

Haven had changed her in many unpleasant ways. It hadn't been easy to try to survive at first, being a teenage girl in the city, all alone with no one to help her. But after her second day, she was forced to make a decision that would alter her life forever. She would either have to evolve into something stronger than she was, something more dangerous, or she would likely enough become one of the many unknown people who were found dead in a gutter every day. She had opted for the former.

She learned to fight back against the dregs of society. Changing every day, ever darker, ever stronger, she became in many ways what most would consider a wild animal. She scraped it out with and beat others in similar situations for the right to sleep in what little shelter could be found and what meager amounts of food could be scrounged up. She learned how to sneak by guards and how to steal from a more affluent looking elf without them even realizing they'd just been robbed. And further more, many a would be mugger or worse had learned at high cost, that her small frame and slight build covered up a spirit that had become as tenacious as the metal clad monstrosities that lurked just outside the relative safety of Haven City's walls.

She'd spent almost half a year in that hellish lifestyle, until salvation had arrived in a most unlikely form. The mechanic's thought dwelt briefly on Tess, and she wondered what she might have been doing, or even if she would still be drawing air, had the Underground member not discovered her in an alley one night, licking her wounds from a rather vicious encounter with a slum dwelling psychopath. The Underground had taken her in, and nursed her back to full health. Needless to say, once she had come to understand that nothing bad was gong to befall her, a good part of her old self began to return, though the hardened warrior inside her most definitely remained. Once that happened, she had become quite grateful to the Underground, and had quickly endeavored to prove their generosity worth their while, fixing and in many cases improving the limited supply of vehicles that they had available to them.

She had also managed to discover that she had an affinity for technological weapons, and to this day, she considered the morph-gun to be one of her greatest achievements, a sentiment that many a resistance soldier would agree with. And then of course, there were the enormous numbers of Krimzon Guard's she had heard, Errol himself included, who had cursed the "miserable little traitor" who provided the Underground with those mysterious blasters. To know that she ranked so high on their list of people to whack, well, it was gratifying, to say the least. With a little bit of luck, she might soon be adding to that list, and earn a few more curses from the tyrant's men. That was of course, provided things didn't get FUBAR today.

She snapped out of her drifting thoughts as she made another turn, and noticed a speeder bike parked against a tree. She skated up next to it, and hopped off her board, whereupon she noticed a set of tracks in the snow, heading east of her current position. Curious to see what she could make of her enigmatic ally, as she couldn't think of anyone else in their right mind that'd be out in Metal Head infested woods in the dead of winter, she bent down, and began to examine them.

Her "friend" was of a fairly tall height and medium build, judging from the length of his stride and the depth of the tracks. He was also traveling light, lighter than she was. They also appeared to be relatively fresh, no more than half an hour old, which meant he couldn't be that far ahead of her.

It was then that something else caught her eye, a second set of… what appeared to be paw prints, were following the first. They were so small and their impressions so faint that even her trained eye had almost missed them. Whatever had made then looked as if it had been built like some kind of strange bipedal rodent. A quick image of Daxter flashed through her mind, but she quickly shook that thought aside, as it was quite ridiculous to imagine the Ottsel willingly marching headlong into the face of this many Metal Heads. Plus, she knew that her luck wasn't that good.

Focusing her mind back on the mission at hand, she slung off her backpack, and unzipped it. From there, the next few minutes were a blur as she swiftly donned the homemade ballistic armor, slipping on the chestplate before attaching the shin plating and securing her helmet. Next came her gauntlets. Like the rest of her equipment, they were a dull grey in color and went back almost to her elbow, and the one on her left hand had a steel colored ridge that came about an inch or so off of it, which ended in an opening that had what looked like a piece of greenish crystal sticking out of it. While the one on her right hand had a similar shape, except that it ended in an open hole and had a spherical shape towards the elbow end of it.

After that, she took out her gun, a belt of energy packs and a bandolier of specially designed plasmite grenades, and her pistol, and put them all in their respective places. Last, came one of the sets of thermal goggles, which she promptly turned on. Fully suited up, she looked like some sort of commando warrior, rather than a mechanic born in a simple seaside village. And she knew without a shadow of a doubt in her mind, that if her father had seen her like this, he would have had a heart attack in an instant.

Chuckling to herself, she set off after the other elf.

She hadn't even traveled more than a few minutes when she came across the first Metal Head body. Once again, her tracker side kicked in and she pulled her goggles up, and knelt down next to it, well, the pieces of it anyway. What had killed it had been obvious enough, a massive amount of blood loss due to being cut in half. But what had astounded her had been the cut itself. It was clean, smooth, meaning that whatever had done this had sliced through the Grunt's armor, flesh, and bone like they had been nothing more than paper. Further examination revealed that the weapon that had done it had been long, and curved. That left a single possibility as to its nature: a sword.

She paused in her thinking, having some trouble coming to grips with this bit of knowledge. Who, in this day and age, used a sword? Shaking her head in disbelief, she looked around the area, seeking more clues about the encounter, and about a minute later, she reached a fairly conclusive reckoning about what had gone down here.

The Metal Head had leaped, at fairly high speed, considering the initial blood spatter was a good twenty five feet from where its body parts had wound up, from behind the protection of some snow covered rocks, apparently thinking to get the drop on this unsuspecting elf. However, its target was not oblivious, and the Grunt had very quickly been made aware of its error. The elf had apparently heard its leap, and had turned as it came at him, pivoting a full three sixty and bisecting it with a single, well placed downswing of his blade as it had passed. Her "friends" had then apparently went on their merry little way as if nothing had occurred, with the elf not even pausing face the area where the Metal Head's halves had landed.

So this person not only carried a blade, but was apparently darn good at using it. Keira still wondered, as she took off again, why someone would carry such a weapon though. Yes, it paid to carry both a long and a short, as the saying went, but wasn't that what knives and daggers were for? A sword was larger, harder to conceal, and they could be quite often unwieldy, as rarely were any two made exactly alike. Still, perhaps it was some sort of family heirloom this guy was carrying, something that had sentimental value or whatnot.

Her thoughts were again interrupted as she came across another battle zone. This time, though, there were five bodies, rather than just one. Two Grunts, two Drones, and a Centurion lay where they had fallen, their black blood frozen upon the snow covered ground. Once more, she quickly scoped out the area to figure out what had happened. The Drones and one of the Grunts had been the first to die, the former two by decapitation and being sliced in half from the left front leg upward respectively, while the Grunt had been stabbed through its heart.

What puzzled her though, were the elf's actions. His footprints ended just before the start of this clearing, and started again right in the heart of this trio. However, his prints were considerably deeper than they had been previously, indicating that he had probably jumped. The problem was this: there were no tree branches in this area from which the elf could have dropped without breaking something, and the gap between where his prints stopped and picked back up were almost thirty feet apart. And Keira knew there was no way in hell that any elf could jump that far.

Continuing on, there was a good sized patch of snow that had been messed up, indicating that the elf had probably executed a small leap and roll maneuver, and lining up with it, the mechanic observed that the second Grunt lay slumped directly in front of her. Walking over, she could see a trio of neat holes that had been bored into its head, and by the size and the slight amount of cauterization around the wounds, she could tell that they had been made by some sort of blaster.

But possibly the strangest was the Centurion, which was obviously the leader of this small patrol. Half of its face was blown away, and the tree behind it had a rather large burn mark on it. She had seen wounds caused by such a weapon, and that kind of gun was currently held within the Metal Head's death grip. It was almost as if the elf had turned its own weapon upon it, but there were no tracks over here to indicate such a possibility.

She did let out a slight whistle of admiration for this guy, though, whoever he was. He had obviously caught this group with their proverbial pants down, and it had been over within seconds, as the Centurion hadn't even had time to activate its energy shield. And then he had once again continued forward at the same even pace that he had been using up to that point.

Quiet, fast, and absolutely deadly. The aqua-haired elf was beginning to understand why Torn had called her mysterious ally here a one elf army. Still, no one was invincible, and putting her thermal visor back on, she hurried along, just in case this elven Rambo might need help.

It was about ten or so minutes later, when the first sounds of combat reached her ears. She quickly scanned around, making certain that none of the Cloakers were near here, before she moved towards the source of the ruckus. There was a small rise in front of her, which she opted to crawl up on her gut, remaining as close to the ground as she could. Moving one arm over the other, she made her way to the top in a fairly efficient manner, where she remained hidden behind some bushes that offered excellent cover, despite their lack of leaves. It turned out that once again the forest opened up into a clearing, but this one was larger than the one that she had come from. However, she barely took those details into account. There was something else within the open area that held her attention.

The clearing was a slaughterhouse.

Metal Head bodies were scattered about, some cut apart, other slain by blaster fire. Keira quickly estimated there to be almost two dozen bodies of different species. When she added this up with the six that she found before, and did a quick mental calculation based upon the report, it looked as if this mysterious elven warrior had already massacred a good half of the attacking force that they had been sent to deal with.

A roar drew her attention to the far side of the clearing. It was then that she saw him, a flash of heat against the coldness of the environment. Within his right hand, was a cooler object, and Keira knew then that this was the weapon that had cut down so many. Within his left, he clutched a pistol that, even from this distance, she recognized as one of her own design.

There were more flashes of heat, and she realized that the elf was under fire from not one, but two Crab Heads. However, rather than being cut down by the vast amount of firepower being thrown at him, the mystery fighter danced about, moving his sword around in a strange ballet as he seemed to flirt with Death. Imagine her surprise as the shots went sailing back in the direction of their senders. Instantly, she realized what fate had befallen the Centurion, and she couldn't hold back a grin as she realized the irony of such a demise.

However, Crab Heads were not Centurions. This was obvious as the energy bursts were absorbed by the armor that the large commander types wore. They weren't stupid either, and began to maneuver about, both of them strutting about sideways in a manner that had earned their kind their name. She realized what they were doing, getting into a position where this elf couldn't deflect all of their shots.

But the warrior was not about to fall for that trick apparently, as he suddenly leapt away, covering almost ten meters in a single bound. The mechanic blinked a few times, making certain that her eyes hadn't suddenly decided to play tricks on her. It was a fortunate thing that she did that, as an instant later, her ally set off a charge shot, which registered so highly on her thermal goggles that it nearly overloaded them. Blinking again, this time to clear away the spots in front of her eyes, a cry of pain reached her ears, and she knew the overcharge shot had connected with one of the large Metal Heads. However, both were still standing when she regained her ability to see.

Still, they did not stay that way for long. Seconds later, the elf pointed his magnum again, and this time she had sense enough to look away. This time also, the cry was more of a gurgle than anything else, and staring back, she noticed that the blast had all but removed the commander's head.

This sent the other one, apparently younger and brasher, into a rage. It threw down its blasters, and yelled something in its own language that she couldn't understand. Much to her surprise, instead of gunning the beast down when he had the chance, the elf twirled his blaster, and holstered it. He then adopted a strange combat stance, sticking his blade behind his back. Keira's mind reeled, trying to take a Crab Head on in melee? That guy was absolutely nuts! The creature roared again, and this time, its elven antagonist had a reply as well.

"You gonna stand there and do that all day, or are you going to come and get me?" he asked, motioning for the Crab Head to "bring it."

There was something tantalizingly familiar about the voice, and then it clicked. That was the very same elf that Krew had tried to place on her racing team! What in the world was he doing working for the underground? Unless, he was some sort of double agent, like Tess was. Still, she was quite certain that her blond haired friend would have mentioned something like that at their last meeting.

Her thoughts went back to the battle as both combatants suddenly charged at each other, screaming battle cries. They closed the distance between each other rapidly, but a second before they would be at each others throats, the elf leapt, angling himself up off of the ground. Time itself seemed to slow, as he flipped about to where he was upside down, putting him well above the reach of the very much astonished Metal Head. The look of confusion would be eternally carved into its face as its foe spun about horizontally, performing a decapitation that would have made an executioner green with envy.

The elf hit the ground, feet first, at the same time that the Crab Head's corpse collapsed into the snow. Then, as if to mock his fallen opponents, he whirled the blade around in the air, before bringing it back down to his side.

"Pathetic." he said, his voice carried to where the aqua haired elf lay hidden.

Her eyes wide with disbelief, Keira removed her infrared visor to see if she could get a better look at this mysterious warrior. He was dressed in dark clothing, and somehow, she sensed that it was not the cold that caused him to do so. For, even from this distance, she could feel something that was almost akin to an aura from him, something telling her that the low temperature wasn't bothering him in the slightest. His hair was swept back, and fair colored, and for a moment, she hoped…but no…again…her luck wasn't that good.

Or so she thought, for there suddenly came a voice, one that she was also very familiar with.

"Is it safe to come down yet?" the voice said, coming from somewhere up in the trees.

"They're all dead, Dax, you can come out now." the elf responded, not turning around.

"I meant you, Jak." the Ottsel muttered, as he crawled down from a tree, not twenty feet from where she lay hidden. "You're scarier than any Metal Head I've ever seen."

"And do I scare you, Daxter?" the former Channeler remarked, looking back over his shoulder and letting her see his face, though she couldn't make out much from this distance.

"No, but I can't say the same for Tall, Dark, and Gruesome, I was half expecting him to make an appearance during that scrap." the diminutive rodent replied.

"I don't know what to make of it, but that…creature…seems to only show up when things really start to go downhill." Jak responded.

Keira was confused, what in the world was he talking about? Was there something else out here, more dangerous than the Metal Heads? And for that matter, what in the world was she still doing lying on her stomach in the snow, listening to a childhood friend, and someone she considered much closer than that, banter between each other after being separated for going on three years? Perhaps, it was Jak himself. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something different about him, aside form the fact that he seemed to have miraculously found a voice for himself and his somewhat drastic wardrobe change. It was something about his actions, the way he had seemingly just stormed in here and butchered more than twenty four of these monsters and apparently seemed to think nothing of it. There was a coldness, almost a callousness to his actions, and it had her somewhat unnerved.

She quickly scolded herself for even thinking about such things. After all, hadn't she changed? Hadn't she been forced to adapt or die within the walls of Haven City? What horrors had been forced upon him?

"Let's go, Daxter." he said, his voice neutral.

"Don't you think we should wait up just a bit, Jak ol buddy?" Daxter protested, waving his arms about. "Tattooed Wonder did contact us and say that there would be some assist on this one."

"I really don't feel like babysitting any of his soldiers today, Dax." Jak replied, his tone suddenly weary.

Keira never knew what it was she did, whether she shifted suddenly or made some sort of noise, but suddenly, the magnum in Jak's left hand was pointed straight at where she was. Daxter, apparently confused, made some remark or whatnot that she couldn't quite make out.

"Come out slowly, your hands where I can see them." he barked, his tone as icy as the air around him.

"You're trying to reason with a Metal Head?" Daxter asked incredulously, his voice louder this time.

"Whatever's over there, it's not a Metal Head." the elf responded, his voice a growl. "You're not getting another warning, now come out where we can see you."

Slowly, well aware that Jak had proved just how dangerous he could be with his blaster, she stood up, and marched forward, dropping her gun, and removing her helmet.

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Okay, that's done, now I have to have them wipe out the Metal Heads, and have their little "argument", any ideas on how that can be done so that I can make the next chapter a notable improvement over this one are greatly appreciated, as I want to make this as good as I can.

Any other ideas, comments, constructive criticisms (probably plenty of room for those here), and even flames are welcomed with open arms.

That said, I hope you have a good day, and that you are not disgusted by my lack of talent.