By the Blade

A/N: Well, here's the second chapter. Shall we get in to the blade play? Grins evilly and runs his thumb over the hilt of a sword at his side. Yes we shall.

Jak bounced the 'crysknife' in his hand, feeling its heft and balance. Truth be told, he had never tried fighting with a melee weapon other than a particularly disastrous incident when Daxter had talked him into trying to use Samos's sagely staff as a weapon.

It worked just fine against Lurkers, but Samos had been none too happy. As always, Daxter had gotten the worst of it, though Jak had caught quite a bit of flak. Jak's punishment was more of a matter of Samos finding Kiera's diary and reading some of the more…swooning passages in it, but that wasn't important. What was important was that Jak had fought by fists, feet, eco, and guns before, but never with a knife.

Still, thought Jak, slashing experimentally a few times with the knife before sheathing it at his side, how hard could it be? He stood and tightened all the straps on his outfit, then stretched a little bit. He actually had a chance to prepare for this fight, and he was going to take it.

Daxter, however, was none too pleased by their predicament. True to form, he voiced his displeasure. "Man, this sucks! These Wastelanders have a twisted sense of humor, you know that, right, Jak? I mean," the ottsel started pacing back and forth on a convenient ledge, "They rescue us from certain death…which by the way, I was TOTALLY in favor of. But then they decide to toss us into some arena to prove if we were worth the fuel in their transport or something?"

Jak sighed as he finished his stretches. "Well, we don't really have too much choice, do we, Dax?" He offered his shoulder to his furry friend, who jumped on and leaned against the blonde's hair. "I'm not saying that I wouldn't be happier if I had my morph-gun, or if I knew how to knife-fight…" A vaguely familiar voice came through the thick metal door that lead into the arena. "…Does that announcer's voice sound familiar?" asked Jak of Daxter.

The orange-furred once-elf nodded his head even as the Arena door slid up. "…wet themselves in fear for our amusement! Today we witness two newcomers battling for their right to stay among us! Give it up for Jak and his pet orange rat!" the voice that hit them was familiar…and belonged to one of the few people who could make even a tenuous claim to being able to out-talk Daxter.

Pecker. Jak cast his gaze about, searching for the Monkaw. The elf's keen vision found him playing to the crowd from a balcony that dominated the stands. A convenient platform jutted out from it, at a lower level. Jak got the feeling that he should go stand there. Another platform gave him an easy path to get to it, so long as he could jump.

Jak could jump. With a pair of bounds that were extraordinary even for the naturally nimble elven race, he made his way to the central platform, looking up to see Damas sitting on a throne that Pecker was now perched on the arm of. "There you are, Pecker…"

Daxter burst in. "What the hell are you doing up there, feather-butt?"

Pecker gave a purely sarcastic, mocking bow. "Damas says I am to be his new advisor. He knows my wisdom will serve him well." He glared at Daxter's expression, but shied to the side as Damas stood.

"Pecker speaks the truth," he confirmed. "We know that you have agility, but that is not nearly enough for a warrior. Hand over your crysknife so that it may be prepared for battle." He looked down to Jak's eyes, testing the young man.

Jak nodded and unsheathed the blade, tossing it up to Damas, who smiled slightly. This one was a warrior and no doubt. Whether he was a warrior worthy of the title of Wastelander was another matter, and they would soon see. Taking an intricately carved red Eco crystal, he opened the crysknife's hilt and inserted the gem in one of four open sockets, noting with pleasant surprise that the knife had an extra series of Eco channels that would let a channeler use the knife to its greatest potential. Whether the boy was a channeler or not was yet to be seen, but it was possible. He closed the knife's hilt and tossed it back to Jak, who caught it adroitly.

"You will find that by concentrating on a specific color of Eco, you will be able to call forth a number of different weapons from the crysknife. As of now, only the red Eco function is available to you. It is a weapon we call the bo." Damas's lavender eyes watched Jak carefully as the crystal of the knife turned red and formed itself into a six-foot long round staff. The boy smirked as he saw it. "Your opponents will be captured Marauders, fighting for their freedom. Expect no quarter…it will not be given."

Daxter bit his nails. "Wait a second…you mean real people…with real weapons? Who actually want to hurt us?"

"That's just fine with me," said Jak with a wolfish grin. He spun the staff and couched it along the inside of his arm. "Bring them on."

Daxter glared at Pecker, then pointed up at Damas. "Dammit, I want to be on HIS shoulder!" But Daxter stayed on Jak's shoulder as the blonde got on the platform that lowered them to the arena floor.

It didn't take long for the fight to start once Jak was on the platform. Four burly men in metal helmets and minimal clothing leapt out of elevated boxes evidently tasked for keeping warriors. Each of them wielded a large sword that seemed to be made of rusty scraps of armor. Though nominally curved, that was mostly a function of them having straight sections at gentle angles to each other. They weren't exactly the most well-crafted weapons ever made.

That didn't mean that they weren't dangerous. Jak rolled out of the way of a jumping overhead strike, lashing out with a wide sweeping strike of the bo that slammed into the big man's ribs with an explosive crack. Had Jak not dodged, the badly sharpened weapon would have still torn through his clothing and skin, then pulverized his collarbone…and likely have continued a ways further into his torso. That would kill him just as dead as repeated blasts from any of the various energy weapon in common use in Haven. As such, it was to be devoutly avoided.

Even as the first Marauder tumbled across the platform and into the lava from Jak's powerful strike, the blonde warrior felt more than heard another Marauder rushing up behind him. The red crystal bo shot backwards, spearing into the large man's neck, crushing his windpipe. The bandit staggered back, dropping his sword and clutching at his ruined throat.

Jak turned to face him, bo staff held almost like a rifle being fired from the hip, and pointing directly at the doomed man's chest. Jak's eyes narrowed as he fought instinctively, drawing on his long-unused channeling powers. With a 'thoom' a red tinged distortion erupted from the staff's tip and slammed into the man, crushing his rib cage and throwing him violently against a rocky spar that jutted out from the caldera wall that formed the Arena. The already-dead body stuck there, the heated rocks cooking it slowly.

The other two from this group were charging at him together, swords held high. Just as they started to bring them down to crush Jak, he spun out of the way, sliding the bo staff out so that it was more fully extended, and smashing the both of them across the lumbar region, snapping their backs handily. The upshot of this was paralysis from the hips down…as the two rushed at the edge of the platform. Both of them fell into the lava face-first.

Jak grimaced as he turned to face the first of this new wave, parrying a sideways swing of the heavy sword the bandit wielded above his head before bringing the other end of the bo up behind his back, blasting the Marauder with another scatter gun-like distortion, then swinging the bo in an overhead arc that brought the opposite end of the weapon down on the staggering gladiator's helmet, crushing it and the head it contained.

The next one charged him with his sword held out in front of him, intending to run Jak through. The short elf sidestepped and gave a grunting chuckle as the weapon stuck fast to the small rectangular structure Jak had stood in front of. It also seemed that the weapon had hooked the Marauder's gauntlet, trapping the bandit there…as alarms went off.

Jak hopped up onto the structure, emulating the other two Marauders. It proved to be a wise choice, as the platform sunk into the lava a ways, much to the misfortune of the barbarian who had just tried to stab Jak. The young elf ignored the death scream of the Marauder and gratefully took the break offered, planting the staff upright next to him. "Holding up alright, Dax?"

"Yeah, sure. Looks like you got a nice substitute for the scatter gun. Not quite as good as getting the blaster back, though." Jak nodded in agreement. "What about you, man? I mean, you're kicking ass but…"

"Don't worry, Dax," said Jak as the platform rose so lava no longer covered it. He took up combat stance again and charged at the two Marauders, who were perfectly willing to let their ticket to freedom come to them so that they could slaughter him on their terms.

They got a little more than they bargained for when Jak dodged both of their furious downward strokes and leapt into the air, arms outstretched and body parallel to the ground, both legs sweeping out to hit each of them in turn. As they started to stumble back, Jak planted the bo and used it to acrobatically regain his footing before blasting them without looking back at the two.

The crowd's roar, which had been loud until then, suddenly became deafening. But even as the wave of sound rolled over Jak, he was intercepting another downward swing of a sword with the tip of his bo and blowing it back the way it came with another of the distortions. As the sword flew out of the barbarian's astonished grip on a high arc, Jak drove a side kick into the man's stomach before thrusting a knife-hand into the bandit's throat.

Things were going far too well. Therefore, old Murphy made his appearance as a Marauder leapt off of one of the refuges from the lava, sword smashing down at Jak. The blonde barely managed to get the bo up perpendicular in time to fend off the strike, and as it was, he was knocked on his back, struggling to keep the much stronger Marauder from overpowering his defenses in the bench press from hell. It wasn't working too well. Jak might have been much faster, skilled, and far more agile than the barbarians, but they were also much stronger than him. The hero's teeth ground together and sweat poured from his red face as he strained to keep the Marauder's blade from his body.

"I'm going to kill you, little boy," growled the Marauder. "In the name of my clan, I will kill you for my people's freedom, and for the ghosts of those you have already sent to the storms!" He pressed down harder, and Jak knew that he had lost. Even if he could keep the blade away much longer, there were still two more Marauders on the platform…at least. Occupied as he was, there was no way he could keep them from slaughtering him.

A look of despair crossed Jak's face, and in that moment, the barbarian struck, angling his sword and stabbing down at Jak's face. The hero's eyes went wide and only a blindingly quick head jerk to the side kept his skull from being smashed. As it was, the bandit's blade took a notch out of his ear. The pain triggered a rage that swept through Jak. Grunting, he forced one end of the bo up, kicking out the same side's leg from under the barbarian, taking the big man off of his feet.

As the Marauder fell, the red crystal of the bo disappeared, leaving just the milky-white bladed knife in Jak's hand...exactly how Jak wanted it. Accelerating the barbarian's flip to his right with a left-handed punch that broke ribs, Jak flipped so that he straddled the burly man's torso and stabbed down into the man's sternum.

The crysknife sunk in with surprisingly little resistance before Jak ripped it out, eyes closed as blood sprayed out. When he opened them again, they were deep, pitch black.

Spargus's records would later note that it took nearly seventy stunner blasts to lay the beast low.

A/N: Well, there's that. I hope you liked this somewhat violent chapter...yeah, right, somewhat. Shrugs Hand to hand combat to the deathisn't renowned for being pretty. Fun to write and read perhaps, but not pretty.Anyway, this isn't the end of the story, not hardly. I've still got plenty to play with, and I intend to see this one through to the end. I hope that it continues to be enjoyable for those of you who read it. Speaking of which...I believe that it's time to thank and respond to my reviewers.

Keep Me In The Shadows: Well, first of all, I'd like to thank you for being my first reviewer. I guess I'm going to have to read some of your stuff, huh? Heh...I'm looking forward to it. And thanks for the cookie...it was delicious. Holds out a plate of fresh-baked cookies Try one of mine?

Air of Shadows: Well, I think that it's pretty hard not to draw the conclusion that Duneelements can be easily be added to Jak 3's setting. That being said, I'm glad to know that I'm not alone in my thinking, even if my crysknife is not exactly that of the Fremen, as you've seen. I'll give a more complete explanation into how it works in the next chapter.Sandworms will also play a part of the story.As for the Precursor monks, yeah, they are alot like the Bene Gesserit, though Seem's outfit first reminded me of the Fremen's stillsuits. From there it wasn't hard to imagine her saying "Back! I know your weirding ways!" to Jak in their firstmeeting. That was the genesis of the Dune elements creeping into this story. That being said, Seem would appear to be the type that would use a gom jabbar over a lasgun. I hope to see your story soon.

I guess that's all for now. See you next chapter!