Thanks for all the reviews!! You guys make me wanna write faster! I worked all day on this one...I don't know what I'm going to do with myself once this story is done!
Here's the next chapter...
Chapter 9: Adding to the Family Tree
Back to time right after Jak left
Just because most of the Marauders used swords and knives didn't mean they were far behind in technology. Quite the opposite, their devilish vehicles alone could back a powerful punch, ramming into infantry and even armored vehicles on Damas's side.
Besides their cars, in their possession they held rare homing missiles, probably thanks to their past dealings with Baron Praxis. Although, even with their weaponry technology, they were no match for Damas's Wastelanders and Jak's disciplined KGs head to head.
It also was very apparent that without their leader, they were in disarray and their tactics became sloppy. Easily, they surrendered in less than twenty minutes.
With all the years of grief this pestering enemy had caused, Damas felt no need to take prisoners. Together, he and Torn made them retreat back to their stronghold, destroying the bridges along the way in an attempt to save their worthless lives. They were now trapped, right where they wanted them.
The triumphant King of the desert signaled to the long range artillery, watching as explosives and projectiles rained down upon the fortress, catching it aflame.
All watched the burning spectacle, ignoring the whipping sand at their backs. Damas's senses suddenly became alert, warning him of the sudden dryness in the air, an occurrence that usually preceded a sand storm.
"Storm!" Damas yelled futility into the strong wind, speeding back to his car.
No one seemed to hear or even look at the King, except Torn and Ashelin, happening to be standing right next to him.
Jumping into the backseat of their vehicle, Ashelin pulled out her communicator and ordered the carriers and their men back to the city. Damas, not having the communication between his men like Torn and Ashelin did, waved his arm about and finally caught some attention. He pointed in the direction of Spargus and shouted something indistinct against the wind. It was now a mad dash for the city, which lie ten minutes away.
The light was beginning to dim and soon, they could only see five yards in front of them. Everyday, the desert shifted in someway, and there really was no way to tell where you were exactly at any given time.
Luckily, the red KG carriers, which flew above most of the hazardous sand-wind, guided Damas's forces safely.
Relief to all was when the brightly burning light tower of Spargus could be seen faintly. Although, the storm continued to worsen, any uncovered parts of the body were subject to the painful scraping of the corrosive sand.
The winds howled with such ferocity that some of the smaller and less aerodynamic cars began to loose traction, causing them to swerve dangerously.
Damas heard the familiar sound of the gate opening, and blindly sped in. Twenty more buggies squeezed into the garage behind him, but four were not so fortunate. Just before the censored gates closed, Damas watched as four cars were swept away by a tidal wave of sand and debris.
Jak laid his son in its ecstatic mother's arms and smiled as big as his wind burnt cheeks would allow. In his absence, his mother had joined Keira and he cheerfully greeted her next.
As Keira happily cuddled her returned son, Jak told them what happened, skipping the parts about Trajan being threatened with the sword for Keira's sake. As detailed as he could, he explained the 'tale' the lead Marauder had told them and how Torn now fell into the mix. Also, he tried to describe to them about his strange newfound ability to apparently 'freeze' time.
Keira looked a Jak with a mix of disbelief and amazement, "Torn...your brother? Freezing time? This is a new record of oddity, even for you, Jak!" she laughed.
Jak nodded his head in agreement. His life had changed so dramatically in the past few months; it felt like one, big, ongoing dream.
The young father swept back his long, messy hair, watching Keira as she tickled Trajan, making the baby giggle. The scene couldn't have been sweeter if it had been covered in sugar.
The creak of an opening door caused the focus to shift on three sand-whipped elves walking in. Claire jumped into her husband's arms and kissed him in relief.
Torn and Ashelin, on the other hand, stood off to the side, feeling a bit awkward.
After Damas greeted Trajan and Keira, he looked from Jak to Torn.
"Jak, Torn...Come with me, I want to show you two something," Damas spoke, winking to his wife.
The two exchanged unsure looks but followed the Desert King out of the hospital and to the 'under-construction' Palace.
Instead of taking the elevator, Damas led them down a hidden stairway off to the side. At the bottom of the stairs was a musty and dim-lighted room. Damas walked over to a corner and uncovered two large boards, which turned out to be portraits. He turned the portraits around, revealing them to Torn and Jak.
The one on the right pictured a much younger Damas, still with blonde hair, standing next to a beautiful burgundy hair. In between the couple was a smiling Torn, or rather, Mik; short and wiry with his maroon colored hair standing straight up on his head. There were no tattoos on his face or body then, nor dreadlocks.
The portrait on the left consisted of Damas looking much the same he did now, except with Claire standing next to him. In the King's arms was a young Jak, with short green hair and the intense blue eyes that he shared with his father and half brother.
"Wow," Torn said, wiping his hand over his face.
"That was your mother, Lena...She feel ill soon after you were taken and..." Damas pointed to the woman, not finishing the rest of his sentence.
"Are there anymore? Pictures, I mean?" Jak asked.
"Yes...somewhere around here..." Damas looked around and found the box he was looking for.
Opening it, there was a toy sword and a few clothes on top of some photos.
"These were your things, Jak," he said, sliding the box towards the blonde. Then, he moved on to uncover another box, "Ah, Torn these were yours," he said blowing off the dust that had collected over the many years.
The older King watched as his found sons rummaged through their childhood belongings an suddenly thought of a question he had been meaning to ask Jak ever since he found out that he was his son.
"Jak?"
"Yeah?" he answered without looking up, amusing himself with the toy sword.
"Are you...a channeler?"
This caught Jak's attention, "Yeah, I am...But I haven't channeled pure eco since..." he thought back to Sandover, ignoring his horrible memories of dark eco, "Are you a-?"
"Yes...both your mother and I are, actually. You must have some pretty powerful capabilities then, since you would be a full blooded channeler, then?
"I did," his mind forgot to even register his new light eco talent. Then he looked to Torn.
"Am I one, too?" Torn looked up.
"Only half..." explained Damas, "But you did show some promising talent when you were young...Surely you knew you had some sort of abilities?"
"Damnit...I never even knew...Just thought I was allergic or something whenever I got near the stuff," Jak stifled a laugh to his side, but Torn ignored him, coming upon a picture of himself and Damas both happy and grinning, standing together next to the giant gun turret that overlooked the ocean.
"So that's why you weren't killed instantly by the dark eco..." Jak mumbled to himself, then looking around and hoping Damas hadn't heard him. He cringed at the thought of telling his recently discovered father the tale of the monster he had been.
Later that night, Ashelin and Torn, who shared a room, talked. Well, mostly Torn, for once. Ashelin didn't seem to care much that he was dominating the conversation, she just enjoyed his happiness.
He showed her the picture of himself and Damas, having put it in his pocket before they left the basement/storage room.
"This is too good;" she laughed teasingly, "Torn: General of the Krimzon Guard, formerly bucktoothed and sporting some spiky hair!"
He snatched the picture from her hands and lay back on their bed, returning it to his back pocket. Ashelin lay down next to him, propping herself up on one elbow. She leaned towards him and kissed him, longer and with more meaning than all the times before. He took her face in both hands and rolled on his side towards her, letting his hands slide down her curvy figure.
And there's the time to stop...hehe...
Now, I'm off to start writing some more before I have to go to work!
Reviews, reviews! I need them for this story to live on:)
