A/N Once again, thank you to everyone for their reviews, especially Demyrie. One of the reasons I started writing this was that I was inspired by Demyrie and Keysha-chan's artwork, which is really fantastic and I recommend looking them up on deviantart. One of the other reasons is that I'm using this as a exercise in writing in prose since I've been working on screenplays/university essays for the past four years. (You can so tell since the last time I submitted something to this site was 2001.) That's enough of that.
Jak and Daxter and all affiliated characters are property of Naughty Dog. All original characters belong to me. No infringement of copyright is intended or inferred in this fictional work.
Warning: Major dialogue chapter ahead.
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Chapter 3: The Pariah
BAM! Daxter struck the steel cage wall and fell forward onto the ground. She blinked back the throbbing pain in her head as she stared up at her attacker. "How the hell did I get into this mess?" she muttered.
After her introduction to the Pariah, Daxter had been taken to their headquarters located in the heart of the slums. The Pariah was a gang of thieves with only four members: their leader Turk, the blond man Hal, Stif the thin man and Gurn the behemoth that Daxter was currently fighting. Turk explained that he wanted Daxter to join their gang but to prove her worth she would have to fight Gurn.
Her answer was characteristic. "What? You think I'm crazy?"
The men responded by throwing her into the cage and locking her in with the mammoth fighter. Daxter faced Gurn and shouted, "Fine, you want a piece of me? Give me your best shot!"
Which was why she was now on the other side of the room, lying on the ground with an aching body. Daxter staggered upward as her opponent sauntered toward her. When Gurn came into grappling range, Daxter dropped to the floor and slide out between his legs. She rolled to her feet and dashed to the other end of the cage.
When she reached the end Daxter hooked her fingers into the mesh lining the cage and began to climb. She could hear the Pariah members hooting and cheering as she reached the top. The top was flush with the ceiling so she couldn't get out that way but she was still out of Gurn's range. She inched her way to the side, hoping to find a weak spot somewhere else in the cage.
"Get down here!" Gurn yelled.
Daxter gave him the one-fingered salute. "In your dreams, lard ass." Gurn roared and rushed the cage. He grabbed the wall with both hands and shook it as hard as he could.
Daxter held on for dear life as the metal bucked and groaned beneath her. Between Daxter's weight and Gurn's thrashing, the strain on the cage wall joints was too much and it snapped. The wall crashed to the ground, taking Daxter with it. She landed badly and jammed her elbow. The tips of her buckteeth sliced the tender skin of her lower lip, staining it red. She spat the blood out onto the concrete floor.
"Ew, that's really gross," Stif complained, taking a step back.
Before Daxter could move a meaty hand grabbed her neck and lifted her off the ground. Her feet kicked the air not connecting with anything. The hand around her throat squeezed and Daxter winced, afraid of what was coming.
"That's enough," Turk ordered, raising his hand.
Daxter sighed in relief. She was unceremoniously dumped on the ground. She panted and nursed her sore arm. "That was not a fair fight," she complained. "If I was about five times bigger—"
"You made it, I'm impressed," Turk said.
Daxter snorted and spat more blood on the floor. "Impressed with what? The way I get the crap kicked out of me?"
"It's okay kid, we don't need another bruiser; we've already got one." Turk pointed at the smiling Gurn.
"Then what the hell was all of that for?" she screamed.
"I saw your potential, but I had to be sure. You've got what we want: speed, flexibility and cowardice," Turk said.
"Hey!"
He ignored her protest. "We don't need any heroes. We want someone who'll get the job done and get the hell out."
Feeling battered on all sides Daxter said, "I never even said I wanted to join your club." She pressed a finger against her lip and felt better when it came back dry. She headed toward the door. "I've got a friend missing out there and I don't have time for this crap!"
"You're looking for someone?" Stif asked.
Daxter paused and snapped at him. "Yeah, that's what I said four-eyes."
Stif bristled at the comment. "Well, you see, we have access to information networks all over the city. We might be able to find your friend."
The sulk left Daxter's body as she listened. Turk noticed an opportunity and took it. "But information isn't free," the leader explained.
Daxter was starting to think that nothing was free anymore. "So if I work for you guys then you'll find out where Jak is?" Daxter asked.
"We'll do the best we—" Stif was interrupted by swat to the back of the head. "Ow!"
"We'll find your friend, squirt," Hal finished.
"Although I have many skills, I don't know jack about stealing," Daxter said.
Turk laid a hand on her shoulder. "We'll teach you, but to be an official member you've got to have a codename."
Daxter smirked. "Codename, huh? It should be something cool like Orange Lightning or Crusher," Daxter said.
"How about Ottsel?" Stif suggested.
The other members of Pariah and Daxter stared at him. "What the hell is an ottsel?" Turk asked.
"It's a small rodent, very fast and sneaky. Quite rare," Stif explained. "I figured that because of her speed—"
"Why don't we just call her Rat?" Hal said.
Daxter stepped forward, mouth opening wide when Turk stepped in. "Ottsel it is then. Get cleaned up, kid, we've got a lot of ground to cover."
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After a hot shower and a couple of strategically placed bandages, Daxter felt a hell of a lot better. She sat in the "war room," a glorified name for a folding table and a couple of chairs. Of course, no war room was complete without the requisite map of the city on the wall.
Turk placed a gun on the table, gracing the top was a small red module. "This is a scatter gun. This is your new friend."
Daxter eyed the weapon with both trepidation and interest. "You're not expecting me to shoot anyone with that thing?"
"Only as a last resort. The scatter gun is pretty weak, it will knock out a grown man but it would take multiple hits to kill anyone," Turk explained.
Daxter picked up the gun, feeling its weight. She messed around with it, trying to get a comfortable grip on it. "Do the job and get the hell out. Right?" she asked, pointing the gun at Turk.
The older man looked alarmed for a moment and grabbed the gun barrel, yanking it out of Daxter's hands. He set it back on the tabletop. "Right. It's our policy not to waste lives. There are more dangerous things than Krimzon Guards outside of the city. The Baron and the Underground can squabble all they want, but the Metalheads are the real problem."
Daxter frowned. "Metalhead? What's a Metalhead?"
"Monsters. We don't know where they came from but we know what they want, to kill us all," Turk said, slamming his fist down. "We don't have the men, the firepower, or the guts to stand up to them, so we don't kill anyone who will."
"You weren't kidding when you said you didn't want any heroes," Daxter joked.
"Once you see a Metalhead you'll understand why," Turk said. He picked up the scattergun and handed it back to Daxter, barrel first. "Hal will take you on the gun range and teach you how to use that. Remember, it is not a toy, do exactly what Hal tells you, got it?" Daxter nodded. "Good. When you get back, I'll teach you some of the basics," Turk said.
Two Hours Later
Her shoulder ached and her trigger finger felt like it was ready to fall off but Daxter had never felt so powerful. Shards of cardboard rained down as she shredded through them with each pulsing blast. She took a few steps forward and took out another row of paper mimics.
Hal leaned against the wall, watching the show. He clapped his hands in approval. "You're doing pretty good. Sure you haven't handled a gun before?"
"You kidding?" BOOM! More cardboard met its doom. "I'm doing great! We didn't have anything like these babies back home," Daxter said.
"What did you use? Your fists?"
"Yup. Hand to hand combat. We got pretty good at it too," Daxter said, reloading the gun just as Hal had taught her.
"We?" Hal asked.
"Jak and me. I did most of the work, he was my backup," Daxter said.
Remembering Daxter's recent fight, Hal had to laugh. "What were you fighting? Crocodogs?"
Annoyed, Daxter lowered the gun and planted a hand on her hip. "Lurkers," she said, hoping that would shut him up.
"Lurkers have been slaves for over a hundred years, they're not much of a threat, Rat," Hal said.
Daxter scowled. "You people are nuts. Back home—" Daxter stopped. In one of her rare moments of insight, she realized that maybe mentioning home was not the best idea.
"What about home?" Daxter remained silent. Hal sighed. "I figured that something happened to you, you don't fit in here."
Daxter opened her mouth to protest.
Hal raised a silencing hand. "No, I don't want to know and I think it's better if no one else does. Got it?"
She nodded.
Hal was pleased. "Good, but I think you need a better understanding of what the city's up against. I'm going to show you a Metalhead."
They made their way through the city to the pumping station. Along the way, Hal taught Daxter how to steal her first zoomer. It had been sitting unattended in the middle of the street. Hal had shown her the basics of hotwiring and within moments they were flying through the air. Hal sat behind Daxter on the small seat and guided her hands over the controls. It was exhilarating to be able to command the humming machine rather than be at another driver's mercy.
Back in Sandover, Jak had always been the driver and it had been up to Daxter to clutch the older boy's waist as tightly as he could so he wouldn't fall off. Keira never wanted Daxter near her inventions and although Daxter had repeatedly asked Jak to teach him how to drive, Jak never did. Jak would promise in his own mute way but something would always come up.
"We're here," Hal said. He showed Daxter how to stop the machine and they dismounted. They grabbed hold of their guns and headed for the massive door. Hal punched in a code and the lock hissed open. He stepped aside and gestured for Daxter to walk ahead.
For the first time, Daxter was outside the walls of Haven City. The pumping station itself was a giant machine with platforms set all around it. Small streams of water crisscrossed the ground. Daxter started forward when Hal grabbed her arm. "Don't go too far, I just want you to have a look at 'em."
"There's nothing—" Hal slapped a hand over her mouth and pressed a finger to his lips.
Daxter nodded and he released her. He waved his hand in a "follow me" gesture and jumped onto one of the platforms. Daxter followed him, trying to stay as quiet as possible. As they crested another platform, Hal pointed to an area down below. Daxter turned her gaze in that direction and gulped.
The Metalheads were strange armored bug-like creatures. Their black shells seemed to absorb the light around them while the yellow orbs protruding from their bodies gave off an eerie glow. Daxter could literally feel the skin on the back of her neck crawl.
"Those things make Lurkers look like baby Flut-Fluts," Daxter whispered.
Having no idea what a Flut-Flut was, Hal chose not to comment. He grabbed Daxter's shoulder and jerked his head toward the door. "Let's go. Scatterguns won't do much good against Metalheads that size."
They crawled their way back down to the door in silence. Hal's fingers rushed over the electronic lock. The anticipated noise never came. Hal frowned in puzzlement.
"What's wrong?" Daxter asked.
"The code's not working," Hal said.
Daxter panicked. "It let us in!"
"I know, I know!" Hal picked up his communicator and spoke into it. "Stif, we got a problem. The code to the pumping station won't let us out."
Stif's voice faded in and out in crackles and pops through the old machine. "What? That's odd."
"No kidding. Can you find us another one?" Hal asked.
"It's going to take some time," Stif said.
Time was what they didn't have. Two Metalheads scuttled across the dusty terrain their claws raised to attack.
Hal fired his scattergun, the blast knocked the Metalheads back for a moment but they quickly regained their feet. "It won't hold them!" Hal shouted, his finger pressing on the trigger.
"Not good, not good!" Daxter shouted.
"Don't panic," Hal said, backing up against the door.
Daxter shot him an incredulous look. "Like hell I won't panic!" A Metalhead came too close and she fired right into its face. The creature reared back with an angry screech. Daxter switched her grip on the gun, wielding it like a bat.
She and Jak had been in trouble like this once before. They were in the Forbidden Jungle looking for Uncle's picnic basket. What Uncle was doing picnicking in the Forbidden Jungle was beyond Daxter but he had promised them a Power Cell if they could retrieve it. Daxter also wondered why Jak's Uncle couldn't just give his nephew a Power Cell, but that was a question never to be answered.
Lurkers had surrounded the twosome as they crested a ridge. Jak's fists and feet smashed into the Lurkers sending them flying. Daxter watched the action, amazed at her friend's fighting prowess. She would jab the air with her fists whenever Jak scored a hit. Suddenly, a claw lashed out slashing Jak across the chest. He fell back. The Lurker lurched toward the blond teen, drool dripping from its open maw.
Jak was too dazed to respond to the threat. Fear filled Daxter's chest. She picked a log up off the ground and raced toward the Lurker. As the Lurker was about to attack, Daxter struck.
The rotten wood shattered against the Lurker's skull. It dropped to the ground with a loud thud. Jak shook his head clear and beamed up at Daxter. The redhead felt heat rise in her face. "Hey no big deal, Jak," she said, waving it off.
Now she was in a similar situation and a gun was a hell of a lot harder than a log.
BAM! The gun smashed into the Metalhead's midsection. The creature toppled onto its back, legs kicking in the air.
Daxter crowed in triumph and shot Hal a thumb's up. The blond stared at her for a second before smashing the butt of his gun into the other approaching Metalhead.
"Are you crazy?" he asked.
Daxter grinned. "Crazy like a fox." She fired a couple of shots at the Metalhead, driving it further back.
Hal heard the distinct hiss of the lock. He grabbed Daxter and slammed her against the wall. A horde of Krimzon Guard piled out of the door with guns blazing. The Metalheads fell dead as the bullets tore through their exoskeletons. Their anguished squealing filled the air. Daxter shuddered in horror.
"That it?" one of the Guards asked.
"Negative, there's more further in and we need to find out who owns that zoomer outside," another said.
Hal seized Daxter's hand and dragged her out of the door, sneaking past the soldiers.
"Hey!" one of the Krimzon Guards called after them.
Hal and Daxter ran. Hal reached the zoomer first and spurred it to life. He reached a hand out and yanked Daxter onto the seat behind him. They sped away into the streets of Haven City, Daxter clutching Hal for dear life. The Krimzon Guards did not bother to give chase; they had more important things to take care of.
When the pumping station was far enough away, Hal asked, "So you see what the big deal with Metalheads is?"
"Yeah, I got it," Daxter said, the adrenaline was seeping out of her system leaving her tired and homesick. She pressed her face against Hal's back and wished, not for the last time, that he were Jak.
Over the next several months, Daxter learned more than she had ever wanted to know about the art of thievery. She specialized in breaking and entering, particularly the places that required some climbing to get into. She trained her fingers to be nimble and quick as she picked locks and disabled alarm systems. Her muscles became lean and strong, a result of almost constant exercise. And her baby fat disappeared except for the stubborn roundness in her cheeks.
Her days were occupied with the jobs and her nights were filled with memories of Jak. Every day she would pass Stif's office and ask, "Stify baby, you heard anything about Jak?"
And his answer was always the same. "Sorry Ottsel, nothing yet."
Days turned into weeks and weeks stretched into months and still they hadn't heard anything. Daxter tried to keep faith that the Pariah's contacts would be able to give her something but it was getting frustrating. Information on anyone inside the prison was hard to come by and for some reason the boy named Jak was a closely held secret. But one morning, almost a year after Jak had been captured, Stif finally received word.
He raced from his tiny communications room into the headquarters' main foyer. It was empty. "Turk?" he called out, looking around.
"What is it, Stif?" the older man asked, responding to the call.
"I've got news for Ottsel," Stif said.
"You got word about her friend?" Turk asked.
The thin man nodded. "Yeah, but I don't understand it."
Just then the front door opened revealing the redhead in question and Hal, deep in conversation.
Hal shot Daxter an incredulous look, "Wait, you're telling me that your friend--"
"Best friend," she clarified.
"Camped out with you sleeping like this?" Hal stood behind Daxter, wrapped his arms around her middle and pulled her flush against his body.
"Yeah, but if you move your hand any I'm gonna slap you," she said.
Hal pulled away. "Multiple times," he clarified.
Daxter nodded.
"And you never suspected anything?" he asked, throwing his pack to the floor.
Daxter was confused. "Suspected what?"
Hal laughed. "You are so in denial, Rat."
"Denial about what? Are you implying something?" Daxter asked. "'Cause if you're trying to say—"
"Ottsel!" Turk called. "We've got news about your friend."
Daxter broke away from Hal and started to babble. "Really? They released him, right? I mean, Jak's a freaking saint; he's never done anything wrong. Hell, he saved the world once."
"I thought you saved the world?" Hal interrupted, his voice filled with amusement.
"I did, so did Jak. It was a teamwork thing," Daxter explained.
Before she could rant any further, Stif interrupted, "Your friend Jak's still in the Baron's custody. He's been put into something called the Dark Eco Warrior Program. Details are sketchy, but--"
"Wait a minute, Dark Eco Warrior Program?" Daxter asked. "Are you kidding me?"
"I don't understand—" Stif said.
But Daxter was on a roll. "Who would be stupid enough to work with Dark Eco? That's like sticking a scattergun against your head and pulling the trigger just to see what'll do. It doesn't make sense. Hell, look what it did to me!"
The four men in the room looked at each other with puzzled expressions. "Did what?" Gurn asked.
Daxter groaned. "Never mind. The point is, your information is wrong. They lied to you."
Stif was not a strong man but he was proud of what he did. "My sources are very reliable," he defended.
Anger tinted Daxter's voice, "These the same sources that told us about the Eco storage unit that almost got Gurn killed?"
Stif's face flamed. "That was four months ago—"
Turk held up his hands. "Stop it, you're both acting like children."
Daxter shook her head. "No, we had a good run guys, but I quit."
Turk frowned. "You can't quit."
"Sure I can," Daxter said, planting her hands on her hips. "I worked with you bozos for an entire year and the first time I hear about Jak it's bullshit. I did it your way now I'll find Jak on my own."
She left that night without another word, taking her meager belongings with her. The knot in her stomach twisted as she thought about how long it had been since she had seen Jak and how long it had been since she was normal. Daxter wiped away the moisture that tickled her eyes. She looked up at the dark hanging moon. "Don't worry, Jak. I'm not giving up, not if it takes me fifty more years to find you."
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I'm trying to keep to the unspoken rules of being a sidekick that the sidekick must either have abilities that complement the hero's or that if they have the same abilities they cannot do them as well as the hero. I hope that I am succeeding.
Also, the next chapter shall be known as the "Bastard Erol" chapter. Bwahahaha!