Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I'm just playing in Naughty Dog's sand box.

-Chapter Fifteen-

"Say what?" Daxter butted in. "Wait a minute, let me get this straight." Scowling, he let go of Jak's goggles so that he could point an accusing finger at Damas. "You want to send me and Jak off to who knows where so we can protect Sig while he spies on some guy? What exactly are we protecting him from?"

It was a good question, one that Jak wanted to know the answer to. It also delayed having to make a decision, and with the state that his mind was in, that was something he needed. Damas' request had caught him off guard and he didn't know how to respond.

"I am asking Jak to go, not you," the king said flatly. "And if you choose to accompany him, you had better know how to be silent. There are two dangers on this mission, the Metal Heads and Praxis' men. Either one is just as likely to kill you as the other, so do not draw their attention."

"Whoa, hold on!" Alarm flew across the ottsel's face, making his eyes widen almost comically. "I just got out of a place filled with those Metal Head things. Those things are nasty with a capital N! Jak-!"

Jak touched Daxter's foot and shook his head. I know, Dax. He smiled wryly, making clawing motions with his hand. I've fought them, too.

"Then you should know that they're nothin' but bad news," Daxter said, biting the last two words off with a decisive glower. Folding his arms across his chest, he jerked his head to the side in refusal. "Sorry, Mr. Sand King, but we're gonna have to turn you down. Me and Jak like bein' whole and healthy."

Wait. Jak bit his lip as he looked at Damas, then at Sig. Sig hadn't said anything during this whole exchange, but he was watching, his face completely neutral. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, and in a way, Jak appreciated that. He felt no pressure from the man to accept. But Damas... His eyes were drawn back to the king.

Damas' expression was also inscrutable, but Jak couldn't help but feel like he was being weighed on an invisible scale. Everything the teen said and did was being noted, and despite the mixed feelings he had about the man, he found that he still cared about Damas' opinion. He couldn't just dismiss this mission out of hand.

Sig helped us, he thought slowly. His hands almost absentmindedly made the motions to communicate this thought to Daxter. And... Damas has been helping me. He'd helped Jak try to find Sandover and had taught him and advised him about fighting with a gun. He'd even indirectly helped reunite Jak with Daxter. Whatever other faults he had, if it hadn't been for him and Sig, Jak may never have found his friend. Daxter might even be dead.

And what was this mission, really? To go with Sig, who Jak was coming to think of as a friend, and protect him while he spied on someone. Maybe do something about this eco if it was being put to bad use. Thinking back to Gol and Maia, he knew that eco could be very badly abused.

I think... He hesitated, then decided to plunge ahead with his gut feeling. I think we should go with Sig. They need us and... and we owe them.

Never eager to face danger, Daxter's face fell. "But Jak..." he protested halfheartedly. "We haven't even healed up yet." Then, knowing full well that injury had never stopped his friend from doing anything, he added, "And we don't know what happened to Keira or Samos. Shouldn't we be worrying about finding them?"

We don't know where they went, Jak pointed out. With the map on the table, he was easily able to point to Haven. That forest is right next to where I came out of the ring. If they came out in the same area, we could run into them while we're helping Sig. I don't know anywhere better to look. Do you? Taking pity on his friend, he reached up to rub his head, then pointed at the ground. You can stay here if you want to.

The ottsel snorted at the suggestion. "Not on your life, Jak. You wouldn't last two minutes without me and you know it. Besides, I just found you. No way am I lettin' you out of my sight again." He paused, eyeing Jak for a moment. "You're already set on this, aren't you."

It wasn't really a question, but Jak nodded anyway.

Daxter sighed. "One of these days, Jak. One of these days..."

With too many ways to finish that sentence, Jak just ignored it. Daxter always grumbled anyway. He'd long since learned not to take his complaints too seriously. He still listened, though, because sometimes Daxter's worries were well founded and because the ottsel was good at spotting problems that Jak didn't always notice. Unfortunately, he remembered with a wince, Jak wasn't always the one to pay for his recklessness.

But this time he felt certain that this was the right decision. This wasn't him exploring someplace he shouldn't just because he was curious. This wasn't even him trying to rescue a wumpbee nest that had fallen in the river. There was a real need here, despite the danger, and Jak just couldn't ignore that.

He met Damas' eyes and nodded. I'll do it.

Damas nodded back and, though he didn't smile, Jak felt like he'd passed a test. "Good," he said. "Then as soon as you get a shirt and some armor, I want you and Sig to head out. I have word that the next shipment will be moved sometime during the night, which means there isn't a moment to waste. Sig, take Jak to the armory and fit him with something light weight. Jak, I have your gun in my chambers. I will return it to you before you leave." He hesitated for a moment before his expression softened just slightly. "I regret that we did not have time for another lesson."

Jak regarded the man solemnly. So much had happened since that promise had been made, so much to affect his opinion and his feelings, but that didn't change the fact that he had enjoyed those few hours they'd spent out in the desert. Maybe Damas wasn't exactly a model figure, and maybe he did things that Jak just couldn't agree with. Maybe there would be more times where Jak wanted to throw his hands up in frustration and storm away.

But he could still teach Jak, and Jak still wanted to learn. He held out a hand. You can make it up later.

-o-

The forest outside of Haven was quiet, especially in comparison to the city. Even at night, the city's traffic had been congested, making Jak wonder how so many people could live so close together. Out here, though, there were no zoomers or guards or the low murmur of a dozen conversations. Insects chirped and a few night birds called out, but that was it. It made every noise that he, Sig, and Daxter made stand out in stark contrast. He grimaced as a twig snapped under his boot. How does Sig move so quietly in these things?

Fortunately, they hadn't yet found their target and there were no Metal Heads around, so the sound didn't alert anyone to their presence. Jak resolved to be more careful about where he placed his feet and moved on.

The first time they had to cross a river, Jak nearly fell in while leaping from boulder to boulder. That was when he really began to miss his leather wrappings. I should have brought them, he berated himself. He should have known that a forest would be a lot more like his home in Sandover, where shoes like his old ones were very practical things. But they were back in Spargus and he was here, so he would just have to do without.

Actually, it was a little eerie just how much this forest reminded him of home. The trees were the same type that grew in the forest near Sandover and the moss on the rocks was the same shade of green. Even the birds sounded just like the ones he remembered, and every once in a while he would spot a rock formation that almost, almost looked like the ones he knew so well. But there was always something that threw the familiarity off, a stone out of place, a tree that was too big, or a bush that wasn't where it was supposed to be. It was more than a little disconcerting, and Jak tried not to think about it too much.

Concentrate, he reminded himself. He was here to keep an eye out for Metal Heads. He couldn't afford to be distracted by the rocks and plants. He scanned the darkness again, searching for any sign of movement. He nearly ran into Sig when the Wastelander suddenly stopped.

"This is it," the man said, his voice so quiet that Jak had to strain to hear even though he was only a foot away. "The scouts say this's the path Praxis' men take. There's a pass up ahead where they always lose 'em or get spotted. From here on out, I don't wanna hear so much as a peep from either of you. Got it?"

Not that they'd been making much noise before, but Jak nodded and so did Daxter. With a small nudge, Jak encouraged the ottsel to get off his shoulder, then motioned to Sig. I have an idea. Crouching down so that he could look Daxter in the eye, he motioned toward the split in the the cliffs. You up for a little eavesdropping, Dax?

Daxter made a face at this suggestion, but he didn't immediately voice his typical loud protest. Of course, that might have had something to do with Sig's demand for silence. Still, Jak knew that his friend could be brave when he needed to, as evidenced when Daxter gave a long-suffering sigh and nodded.

Catching on quickly, Sig nodded his approval of the plan, then reached down and removed the small set of goggles that Daxter wore. When Daxter scowled irritably up at him, the Wastelander just smirked. "Anyone spots you, you just pretend to be another dumb animal. Lick yourself or somethin'."

The ottsel's glare became even darker. "Do you even know how gross that is? If you had fur that got covered in dirt and bugs and who knows what else, would you stick your tongue on it?"

"I would if I thought it'd save my life," Sig replied, the smile disappearing from his face as he became serious again. "Now quit yappin' and get goin'. They could be here any minute."

Still crouching on eye level with his friend, Jak ruffled the fur on his head that had been smashed down by the goggle straps. Thanks, Daxter. We owe you one.

Daxter just rolled his eyes, looking only somewhat mollified. "Yeah, yeah," he grumbled. "I'm going. I swear, you two are gonna owe me big for this." Then, without another word, he dropped to all fours and scurried off into the brush.

Jak looked at Sig.

Sig gestured for Jak to follow him. "C'mon, rookie. I want to take a look at that pass."

-o-

Watching the procession that trundled through the forest, it was difficult for Daxter to believe that anyone could lose track of them. The wagon with the large crates creaked as they rolled over the uneven ground, and he would have to be blind not to be able to follow the tracks they left behind. The men in red armor were just as bad, taking no care to watch where they stepped or to avoid damaging any of the plants in their path. It took everything Daxter had not to snort in derision.

Man, this is gonna be a piece of cake. Taking care to move as a normal animal would, the ottsel hopped down from his perch on one of the many boulders in the pass and started working his way closer to the path. As much as he could, he tried to stay out of sight, taking advantage of all the rocks and bushes in the area. In all likelihood, no one would pay him any mind, but that didn't mean he wanted to attract attention. As he drew nearer, he began to pick up a few of the guards' words.

"How soon... there?" The guard's voice was low and muffled, distorted by the helmet he was wearing. Daxter strained his ears.

"...just a... We'll see... minute..."

Damn it, I can't hear. Daxter scowled. He'd have to get closer.

"...eco... What... think Praxis... Haven?"

He waited for an opportunity to slip out of his current hiding spot, watching how the guards' heads moved to make sure they weren't looking in his direction. When his chance came, he took it, darting down the slope to the next closest bush. Then he paused and listened.

"Not... place to say. ...Baron knows... doing."

Good. They hadn't noticed him. Unfortunately, Daxter still wasn't close enough to hear everything they said. Wouldn't it be nice, he mused as he slithered through a patch of tall grass, if I could just hop on that wagon? Forget tryin' to follow them, they'd just take me right there. And he'd be in a perfect position to hear every word they said.

Actually... His eyes narrowed. The more he thought about it, the more he liked that plan. The hardest part would be getting on the wagon unnoticed, but from there on out it'd be smooth sailing.

"You two!" a third guard barked, addressing the two guards farthest back. "Go back... sure no one... like last time." The two guards saluted and split off from the group, heading back the way they'd come. Daxter assumed the order he'd only half heard had been to make certain they weren't being followed. He silently wished his companions luck, hoping that they would remain undetected.

In the mean time, though, the loss of two guards was exactly the opening he needed to act on his plan. With no time to waste, he slipped out of the grass and sped across the road, circling around so that he came up from behind the wagon. Luck was with him and he made it before the rest of the guards reformed their ranks to make up for the absent men. He bolted under the wagon, heart beating rapidly inside his small chest, but no one shouted in alarm or-

"What was that?"

Aw crap! Daxter's eyes darted around frantically, but it was too dark to see anything. He reached up and blindly groped for something, anything to latch onto and pull himself out of sight. His paws ran across lots of cold, twisting machinery, but no gaps large enough to hide an ottsel body. Damn it damn it damn it!

"Looked like some kind of animal," another voice said. "Check it out."

A light flashed under the vehicle, finally giving Daxter a good look at its belly, but it was too late to hide. He froze as a guard poked his head beneath the wagon and instantly spotted him. For a moment, the two stared at each other, the guard's face unreadable behind his helmet and mask. Then the guard's shoulders relaxed just a little.

"Looks like someone's pet," he called out to the others. "Not sure what kind, but I can see bandages on it."

Daxter cursed his idiocy for not pulling the bandages off. Even if his injuries weren't healed yet, the things were a dead giveaway that he wasn't a normal forest animal.

Another head joined the first. It was the guard who'd issued the orders earlier. "Huh. Pretty lost if it's all the way out here."

"Should we leave it?" the first guard asked.

The commander paused as he considered the question. When he spoke again, his voice was stern. "No. I want to know who it belongs to. Catch it and see if it's got an identification tag. If it tries to escape, shoot it. I don't like this. It's too convenient to run into it when we're about to deliver this eco."

"Yes, sir."

Daxter's beating heart nearly stopped in his chest right there. Dropping to all fours, he cowered back as the guard pulled out a gun and aimed it with one hand. Aw, damn it, I should never have listened to Jak!

"Come on, little fella," the guard said, holding out his other hand and crooking his finger. "Come here. I'm not gonna hurt you."

You expect me to believe that? Daxter stared at the guard incredulously. That guy just ordered you to shoot me if I run! He eyed the gun nervously, remembering all too well how much damage one of those things could do to a Metal Head. He didn't want to think what it would do to him.

But either that was exactly what the guard expected, or else he just didn't realize that Daxter could understand every word he said, because he continued to try to coax the ottsel to come out from under the wagon. "There, come on, that's a good boy. Just come a little bit closer. I've got some cheese in my pocket. You like cheese, don't you?"

If this guy had any cheese on him anywhere, Daxter would kiss a Lurker. Still, if the guard was dumb enough to think that Daxter would come willingly, that could be turned to his advantage. Slowly, the ottsel started to crawl towards the outstretched hand.

"That's right, come here. Good, good boy."

It took every ounce of his self control not to roll his eyes. When he was just a few inches away, he paused, waiting for the guard to reach. Sure enough, pleased and thinking that his plan had worked, the guard stretched his hand out. "Good-"

Daxter bolted. The guard let out a started yelp, but he was too slow and his position was too awkward for him to do anything to stop the ottsel. Still, he wasn't out of the woods just yet. There were several more guards to get past, and every one of them had guns. But it was dark and there was plenty of cover for a creature as small as him. If he could just get off the path-

"Gotcha!"

Before he'd barely made it out from under the wagon, a hand clamped down on his neck.

Damn it, he'd forgotten about the commander!

-End Chapter Fifteen-