Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I'm just playing in Naughty Dog's sand box.
Warnings: Spoilers for Jak 1-3.
-Chapter Two-
As Sig stepped out of the transport, the heat of the Wasteland sun hit him like a breath of fire. He inhaled deeply, relishing the feeling. It was rare to see the sun in Haven City. If it wasn't raining, it was too polluted for more than a weak light to filter through the atmosphere. I'll take the desert over the city any day.
The roar of an engine in the distance ended the moment, prompting Sig to pull his Peacemaker from his back. It was probably a Marauder, not close enough to be a threat, but those suckers had a nasty habit of popping out of nowhere. Best be prepared.
It wasn't far from the transport landing site to the entrance to Spargus, but he was sweating by the time he got there. I'm getting soft, he thought with disgust. At least he hadn't turned pasty pale like the average Haven citizen. The day that happened, he vowed to spend a week in the desert without shelter, beyond what was necessary, and sunburn be damned. No way in hell did he want to look like one of them.
A couple of people greeted him as he made his way through the desert city's streets and he greeted them back. Everyone else ignored him, which was fine with him. He wasn't here to socialize. Stepping into the elevator that led to Damas' throne room, he slung his Peacemaker back over his shoulder. He wouldn't need it in the isolated chamber nor would it be acceptable. With most people, it wouldn't matter and he wouldn't care, but with the Wastelander king it was a different story. Besides being king, Damas had long since earned his respect.
The elevator came to a halt and Sig stepped off, careful to stay on the path and out of the swirling water that covered a good portion of the floor. After the heat of the desert, the moisture in the air was a shock of its own, but one that also brought some relief. Sig shook his head. Focus.
"Your message was a little cryptic, Sig." Damas was waiting for him, of course, completely unsurprised by his appearance. The stern lines on his face and his white hair made him look older than Sig knew he was, but he still had the powerful figure of a warrior, the dusty battle leathers he wore and the staff, always ready in his hand, only adding to the image. Right now he was standing in front of his throne, his eyes, a blue that bordered on purple, drilling into Sig. "And it's too early for your regular report. What have you found?"
Straight to the point. That was one of the things Sig liked about Damas. No endless dickering around or mealymouthed pussyfooting like so many Havenites he could name. God, he missed the Wasteland. "I'm not certain," he said just as bluntly. "I'd just finished a mission for Krew and was heading back to the Hip Hog when something exploded in the sky. Wasn't like no bomb I've ever seen, or anythin' else I can name, either, and it came out of nowhere. Literally."
Damas' eyes narrowed. "An attack?"
Sig shook his head. "Nothin' else happened, except a kid and a bit of wreckage fell out of it. Kid says it was a zoomer. I think." Damas arched an eyebrow and opened his mouth, but Sig held up a hand to forestall him. "No, I'm not certain. The kid can't speak. He can hear fine, so he's not deaf. Just couldn't speak. He drew pictures and used a lot of hand waving to talk to me, so there's probably a lot of room for interpretation."
Rubbing his chin as he considered this, Damas moved to sit down on his throne. "What else did he tell you?"
"He thinks he went through a Precursor door of some sort."
That got Damas' attention. The king sat up straight, his free hand gripping the arm of his chair. "What kind of Precursor door?"
"I don't know. The picture he drew was just a giant ring with a Metal Head tryin' to come through. He and three of his friends got in a zoomer and rammed it. Their zoomer exploded and he got separated. When I asked him about the ring, he just said it was a Precursor door." Sig's eyes searched the king's face, looking for some hint as to what the other was thinking. "I told him I'd ask a 'friend' what they knew about Precursor things."
Damas nodded. He was, of course, the friend Sig was referring to. Sig knew Damas' family line was old and had a lot of ties to the Precursors, though Damas had never gone into precise detail about what those ties entailed. And he never, ever spoke about what happened when he visited Mar's Tomb. It made Sig curious, but he knew better than to ask.
Until now, that is.
"So, you got any ideas?"
Damas barked a laugh. "Plenty," he said. "Precursor doors have been known to do many things. You say this explosion appeared out of nowhere?"
"Yeah. One minute it was clear skies - well, as clear as it ever gets," he amended. "Then the next, BOOM! Fricasseed teenager right at my feet."
"Then it was most likely a transport ring." Damas stood up and began pacing. "Transport rings can take a person across great distances in mere seconds, but there's always a corresponding ring on the other end. You don't just fall out of the sky."
"Could the explosion have thrown them off target somehow?" Sig didn't know much about Precursor technology, but he doubted any technology, no matter who made it, would take kindly to something blowing up inside of it.
"It's a good possibility," Damas mused. A deep frown crossed his face. "The idea of Metal Heads using transport rings is troubling. I wonder where they were trying to go."
"Someplace called Sandover, would be my bet," Sig said. "The-"
"What?" Damas cut him off sharply.
Sig blinked. "Sandover," he repeated slowly. "That's where Jak said he was from. Kid freaked out when I didn't recognize it."
Damas' hand sliced through the air in denial. "That's impossible," he said. "Sandover no longer exists!"
What? Now it was Sig's turn to frown. "What do you mean, Damas?" Was Sandover someplace that had been destroyed? Was that why he had never heard of it? But if that was the case, why would Jak insist that was where he had come from?
"I'm not surprised you don't know," the king replied. "It's not something that's common knowledge anymore. I only know because as ruler of Haven City I had to learn much of its history." He strode away restlessly, something he often did when discussing his former home. "Years ago, generations before you or I were born, Haven City was Sandover. It was renamed when Mar built the eco shield wall that now protects the city. You must have misunderstood the boy when he told you where he was from."
But that didn't make any sense either. "Wasn't much to misunderstand," Sig pointed out. "He's got at least a rudimentary knowledge of reading and writing. I asked him where he was from, he wrote 'Sandover.' Simple as that."
Damas stopped and turned to face Sig. "Then either he is lying or someone lied to him." He punctuated this statement with a sharp rap of his staff against the stone floor. "There is no Sandover. Not anymore."
What could he say to that? Sig frowned, but kept his silence. He had a feeling that Damas wasn't done yet.
Sure enough, it was only a few moments before Damas sat down and leaned forward in his chair, his hand on his chin as he thought. "I want to speak with this... Jak," he said at last. "Lying or not, he knows something about what the Metal Heads are up to, and I want to know what it is. Bring him to me, Sig."
It was rare for the Wastelander king to ask someone be brought to Spargus who did not already know about the city, rarer still when that person was not being scouted as a potential Wastelander, but Sig nodded without question. "With pleasure."
-o-
Having a task to focus on, Jak found, helped a lot when dealing with stress. He half suspected that was why Sig had set him this assignment in the first place. The other half of him insisted that the dusky-skinned warrior was going to use the map to help him find his home. Either way, Jak was grateful. Even if he really, really hated writing.
S-I-T-A-D-E-L. He frowned as he stared at the word he'd just written. Something was wrong with it, but he couldn't lay his finger on what. It wasn't one of the words Samos made him practice, so he wasn't used to writing it. Eventually he shrugged and moved on. It wasn't really important. Gol and Maia's citadel wasn't even part of his village, or anywhere near it. He was just using it to help Sig reference Sandover's location. After all, he didn't know how far away that Precursor ring had taken him. Far enough, if Sig had never heard of Jak's village.
It had been hours since Sig had left, during which time a handful of people had come and gone. Most of them had given him strange looks, but a few murmured words from Tess convinced them to leave him alone. Jak didn't know whether to be glad or disappointed. He was starting to feel restless and would have liked to talk to someone, but the people who came to this place had an unhealthy pallor and didn't look very friendly. Actually, come to think of it, even Tess was pretty pale. The only person he'd seen so far who had a tan was Sig. I wonder why that is...
Bored with the map assignment, he pulled another piece of paper from the pile Sig had left and began to doodle a sketch of Daxter. He really wasn't very good at drawing. In fact, he could almost hear Daxter's outraged protests if he ever learned what these scribblings were supposed to be.
What?! Jak, you need your eyes checked if you think a diseased yakow looks like me!
The thought made Jak smile.
"Ooh, what's that?" Lacking patrons to keep her busy, Tess had wandered over to take a look at what Jak was doing. "Is that your pet?" She leaned over and propped her elbows on the table, inadvertently giving Jak a full view of her ample bosom. The teenager blushed, the color reaching the tips of his ears.
No. He shook his head and focused on the picture. The picture was a safe thing to look at. Pen still in hand, he pulled the paper closer and wrote DAXTER on the bottom. Daxter was another easy word for him. Then, in case she needed clarification, he added FREIND.
"Daxter's your friend?" Tess asked.
Jak smiled and nodded. On an impulse, he handed her the picture. Here. He wouldn't get to see Daxter's reaction to the horrible drawing, but the smile that lit up Tess' face, he decided, was definitely worth it.
"Wow, for me?" she said, seeming genuinely pleased. "Thank you, Jak! You're sweet." She reached out to ruffle his hair.
Not... exactly the reaction he'd been looking for. Blushing for an entirely different reason this time, he huffed and swatted her hand away. I'm not a kid!
Tess just laughed and pulled away from the table. "I'll go pin this on the wall," she said. "I bet Krew won't even notice."
Something behind them suddenly blocked the light. "I wouldn't be so sure of that, my dear," someone growled. Tess jumped and Jak started in surprise, whipping his head around to see who-
A bloated, doughy face shoved itself not two inches from his own, eliciting a startled yelp from the teen. Jak nearly fell out of his chair as he tried to jerk away.
"Who's this, eh?" the giant... person... thing... demanded.
Jak gagged. Oh man... His breath...
"This?" Tess asked, falling immediately back to her bright and cheerful self with hardly the bat of an eye. She didn't seem at all phased by the newcomer's large, grotesque appearance. Casually sidling up to the boy and pulling him out of his chair - and incidentally away from the hovering fat man - she ruffled his hair again. "This is Jak! He's waiting for Sig. Jak, this is Krew. He owns the place."
Jak offered a weak smile and lifted his hand in greeting.
Krew glared at the two suspiciously. "A bit young to be waiting in my bar, isn't he? I've got enough problems with the Baron's goons breathing down my neck without inviting more trouble for some worthless brat." The bar owner took a deep, wheezing breath, then muttered, "If he at least looked of age, that would be one thing, but if the Krimzon Guard hears rumors that I allow underage drinking..."
"Sig will be back any minute," Tess hastily reassured him.
"Not good enough!" Krew snapped. "I want the boy out of here now! And no loitering outside the door!"
"But-"
"Out!"
Uh oh. This wasn't good. Sig had specifically instructed Jak to wait inside the bar. He wasn't certain why, but if nothing else, how would Sig find him if he wasn't here when the man got back? His mind raced as he tried to come up with something that would convince Krew to let him stay.
It turned out he didn't need to.
"Unless..." Krew's voice took on a distinctively sly tone, and his eyes glinted craftily as he looked at Jak again. The man's lips split apart in a rot-toothed grin when Jak looked up at him. "You any good with a zoomer, boy?"
Jak hesitated. He had a feeling that Krew was referring to one of those sleek zoomer that he'd seen on his way to the bar. But the principles were probably the same as the A-GraV zoomer and he was good with that. He'd spent hours racing the thing through the Precursor Basin, and that was even after beating that gambler's racing challenge. Not to mention his runs through the Fire Canyon and the Lava Tube. Saying he was good with a zoomer wouldn't be a lie.
He met Krew's eyes, ignoring how one of them was milky white with disease, and nodded firmly.
The man's grin became even more shark-like. "Excellent! Then let me propose a deal." He hovered a few feet back, finally giving Jak some breathing room, and pulled out a fan which he fanned himself with as he spoke. "You run a quick errand for me, boy, and I'll allow you to wait in my bar for Sig. Unobtrusively, mind you. I don't want you drawing..." He sucked in a breath. "...unnecessary attention."
Jak glanced at Tess. She caught the look and shrugged. "If Sig comes back while you're gone, I can tell him where you went and he can wait for you. It's your call, Jak."
Jak nodded, which Krew seemed to take for assent.
"One of my men was delivering something to me when he was, ah, unfortunately shot down," he said. "He dropped the package somewhere near the Pumping Station. I have reason to believe that the Krimzon Guard has not yet found that package, but it's only a matter of time before they do. I need someone to go up there quickly and retrieve it for me before they find it. Think you can do that, boy?"
Well, that sounded simple enough. There was only one problem. Scrunching his eyebrows down in confusion, he gestured helplessly. Where's the Pumping Station?
Fortunately, either Sig had told Tess that he wasn't from around here, or Tess had figured it out herself, because she seemed to understand his dilemma. "Jak's new to Haven, Krew," she said. "He needs a map."
A flicker of surprise entered those beady eyes. "New, eh?" Krew regarded him more closely. "Then you must be familiar with the dangers of the outside world. Even better. There's a map of the city already programmed into the zoomer that's waiting outside. Go to the north side of Haven, in the Water Slums. You'll find a large pipe in the wall there that leads to the Pumping Station. Get there and back as quickly as you can and avoid any guards you see." He growled at nothing in particular and clenched a meaty hand into a fist. "I need that package!"
Something about what Krew was asking him to do tickled uneasily in the back of Jak's head, but he just simply didn't know enough to figure out what it was. It doesn't matter, he told himself. I need to do this so Krew will let me stay. Besides, maybe I'll run into one of the others while I'm out there. That thought made him infinitely happier.
Take a zoomer, fly out of the city, find a package, and come back. He smiled and gave Krew a thumbs up. Yeah, I can do that.
Really, how hard could it be?
-o-
"You let him do what?" Sig's incredulous voice rose sharply. It had been a nasty shock to come back to the Hip Hog and find that Jak wasn't there. Nastier still when he found out why.
Tess scowled and folded her arms across her chest. "He was going to get kicked out anyway, no matter what I did. At least if he did the job, Krew would let him back in. We didn't know how long you'd be gone, Sig."
Sig swore furiously. "Damn it, this is just what I need." He didn't know what the story was with Jak, but if there was one thing that was certain, it was that the boy didn't know his way around Haven or what kinds of traps to avoid with its citizens. Hell, the kid had just stood there staring while a group of Krimzon Guards was making arrests! And that didn't even begin to take into account the Metal Heads.
Wait. Jak. Krimzon Guard. Metal Heads.
With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Sig realized something that put this whole sorry mess in an even worse light. "Krew didn't give Jak anythin' else besides the zoomer, did he?" he asked, already fairly certain of the answer. It wasn't in Krew's nature to give anything to anyone unless he had to or they'd earned it, and sometimes not even then. Jak hadn't earned squat yet.
Tess shook her head.
"Shit." Jak hadn't been carrying anything when Sig found him, not counting the clothes he was wearing. Those clothes weren't bulky enough to conceal anything significant. That meant the kid was weaponless. Sig grimaced for a moment before his expression solidified with determination.
"Sig?" Tess called after him as he headed for the door. "What are you going to do?"
"Only thing I can," he replied, never turning back. The door slid shut behind him and he scowled, tightening his grip on his Peacemaker. I'm going to find Jak, kick his butt for bein' an idiot, then haul his cherry ass back to Damas.
And Krew's "package" could go to hell for all he cared.
-End Chapter Two-