Hello everyone, it's been quite a while. First off, I want to thank all of you for the support you gave, it meant quite a bit to me. I'm sure they meant a lot to Adam as well.

Second, I wish to apologize for the delay over here. FSU's been hell, and I've had trouble trying to nail things down for this story. One problem being I made the transfer student mistake of sighing up for 18 hours worth of classes. I fear that this chapter is not very good as a result of my writers block.

As always, my thanks go out to those of you who read this story and put up with my frequent delays of late. I hope that this sort of thing does not continue to be a problem, I think I know what to do after this chapter, and then things should start boiling down to the final confrontation fairly rapidly, though I think I might have to tone down my ambitious final battle idea to about half what I originally intended.

That said, and lawyers, as usual I own jack squat, I hope you enjoy this chapter, delayed and dismal though it may be…

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A Moment of Understanding

Jak leaned back against the hull of the drop ship, his mind adrift over all the things that had been happening lately, and the fact that it looked as if he might finally be able to just slow down, take a breather, and catch a good night of uninterrupted sleep.

However, that was entirely dependant upon how observant Count Veger and his cronies were. He was still exiled on pain of death, and while he was certain that Ashelin and her followers would go out of their way to try and keep him hidden, deep down, the dark elf knew it would only be a matter of time before Veger and the rest of the council managed to put two and two together. From there, what would happen would be anyone's guess.

'Let the coward come!' Kage snarled abruptly, his eyes glowing with a fury Jak had not seen since he'd been about to challenge Kor. 'It will be my pleasure to remind him of what happened out in the desert!'

'Easy, Kage, we don't want to stir up trouble right now,' Jak responded with a shake of his head. 'The Freedom League and the rest of the military have been through enough, they need a chance to rest… and to prepare.'

'You believe it will come to something as drastic as that?' the oni replied, a genuine tone of surprise in his voice.

'Without a doubt,' Jak told his alter ego. 'People like Veger won't back down without a fight, they're afraid to lose their power. The same applies to any lackeys that they might have. Mark my words, before this is over, there will be a change in power, and it will probably have to be done by force.'

Kage remained silent, a frown upon his face. Jak could hardly blame him. Much as the Dark Eco demon's sense of honor demanded that Veger be repaid for his treachery, what Jak spoke of did not bode well with him. Still, they would both pray that it did not come to that.

A sudden deceleration in the drop ship that they were on told him that they were approaching the city. Silently, the dark elf looked over to where Torn was, and nodded in a somber manner. A thought was all it took, and he suddenly faded into a blur, before moving up towards the cockpit of the craft. The grey armored warrior hated it, hated the fact that their leader, the hero that had returned to save their tails when by all rights he could have remained out in the desert and left the city to rot, had to skulk about like a thief in the darkness. Not bothering to hide the snarl of rage on his face, Torn thought about Veger, his face smug as he had sentenced his comrade to the unmerciful sands of the Wasteland.

He thought of all the people that had died, needlessly, because Veger fancied himself a more competent commander than all the people in the Freedom League, never mind the fact that he had never seen action before. The hardened Revenant trooper knew that it would come to bloodshed more than likely. However, unlike Jak and Kage, he relished the thought. It would be his chance to avenge the fallen, and to put that arrogant and pathetic excuse of a man in his proper place.

Angrily, he grabbed his helmet and slipped it back on. After all, they were returning home to a triumphant city that finally had a reason to celebrate after all these months. Their home had been won back from the grips of their foes, and while much would have to be done to rebuild what had been lost, they had still been victorious. It would not do for one of the heroes of the day to be frowning such as that. Better that they stare at his helmet, rather than the scowl he knew he would be unable to wipe from his face.

The drop ship began to move down, its vertical thrusters gently lowering it towards the pavement in the heart of the residential sector. The back hatch opened, spilling the lights of the city into the rear of the craft.

Darkness had long since fallen, but the fireworks lighting up the sky and the other celebratory lights made it seem as though it was daytime. The roar that met their ears was nearly deafening, as a crowd of people, hundreds of thousands strong and composed of soldiers and civilians alike met their returning warriors. Turning slightly, the grizzled commander saw Jak hunkered down in the corner of the ship that was farthest from the entrance, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as he possibly could.

With a disgusted sigh, the elite trooper disembarked, putting himself back on terra firma for the first time in more than twelve hours. As he and the rest of the Revenants got of the ship, it rose back up into the air, before streaking off in the direction of the current military headquarters.

The hangar that the drop ship arrived in was dark; the lights in it either turned down low or turned off altogether. It was so much the better as far as Jak was concerned, for it would enable him to be that much stealthier in his attempts to get to Ashelin. The Governess of Haven City was eager to meet with her cousin in a face to face manner, but they had to be careful, as unfriendly eyes were everywhere. That was what Torn had told him, and the dark elf had little doubt that it was true. After all, Veger knew that he was still alive, and it would not have surprised him in the least for the council leader to have placed spies among the soldiers of the Freedom League, waiting to see if she would attempt to make contact with him.

His chameleon ability turned on, he slunk out of the back of the craft, slowly moving about, his visor set to heat mode.

Using this method, he was able to slowly make his way towards his cousin's private chambers. Not surprisingly, there was a pair of black armored elites standing by the entrance to the war room. These guards were ex-Underground for the most part, and almost fanatically loyal to their leader. Still, he couldn't be too careful, and he carefully approached, remaining cloaked just in case this should prove to be some kind of elaborate trap.

However, he could not have been more surprised when one of them looked his way, and he noticed a slightly reddish tinge to this visor. With a silent oath, the dark elf realized that the guard was also equipped with thermal viewing gear, and a thousand possible outcomes whirled through his mind as the man snapped his rifle up.

However, as if by some heaven sent miracle, the man did not fire. Instead, he and his comrade, who was by now alerted to the fact that they were not alone, merely kept their guns pointed at him, as if waiting for him to make the first move. At last, though, one of them spoke.

"Colonel, is that you?" the first trooper inquired, keeping his rifle keeping a steady bead on Jak.

A flood of relief swept over the Ascended Channeler, and he slowly rose, before taking a hesitant step towards the guard.

"At ease, soldier," he said, his voice picking up the hardened edge he'd noticed most ranking officers had, de-cloaking himself at the same time.

The two men relaxed and saluted as he drew near, before turning and knocking upon the door they were guarding.

"An old friend to see you, ma'am," one of them said, his tone hushed.

A moment later, the door opened, and Jak quickly slipped inside. What met his eyes was surprising to both him and Kage.

Ashelin stood with her back to a massive computer system, showing detailed views of every area of the city. Near her were no less than twenty of the black armored soldiers that had been guarding the door. Given that the enemy appeared to have been routed completely and utterly, and that no subsequent assaults had been made when an attack had been launched on the Death Bot assembly plant, Jak was confused about why his cousin would have so much protection. After all, she was a hardened warrior, and he believed that she would have little to fear as far as a Cloaker sneaking in and trying to take her out.

That left only one logical conclusion: if there was an attempt on her life, she was expecting an assassin of more elven nature.

"Tight security," the dark elf remarked, putting his thoughts into words.

"Necessary, unfortunately," Ashelin returned as she approached him, and then threw her arms around him. "Good to see you in person again, cousin."

"I have you to thank for that," Jak remarked as he removed his helmet, a crooked smile upon his face.

"Sig was the one who gave me the homing beacon, so thank him," she responded, matching his smile. "Oh, by the way, interesting job with your hair."

"Keira thought so as well," the Ascended Channeler responded, remembering her reaction to the thick braids, a faraway look in his eyes, before bringing himself back to the present. "So what's been going on over here since I've been away?"

"It's a long story." Ashelin said, a bitter frown coming over her face as she crossed her arms.

"He's really done all that?" Jak said, an incredulous look upon his face and in his voice.

"Yep," Ashelin replied with a slight nod, "and I have a feeling that things are only going to get worse."

A frown came over the dark elf's visage, and he pondered what might happen. Apparently, Veger and the rest of the council had become alarmed when Ashelin had stated that she would be taking direct control of the military in light of General Toshiro's death. They'd accused her of overstepping her bounds, and attempted to assume control themselves, but she hadn't backed down. Words had been thrown and sabers rattled, but neither side had truly done anything drastic though. However, the Haven City Council, much to their dismay, hadn't been able to stop her, she had simply been too popular among the majority of the troops. However, Veger and his cronies still had about three thousand or so members of the Freedom League that were in their camp, so to speak. They were all on edge, each expecting the other side to do something drastic.

Both sides had temporarily put aside their difference in light of liberating Haven, but deep down, Jak had a feeling that within two days time things would be back to the way that they were. Possibly less, depending on how quickly Veger found out about Jak's return.

The sound of the main door opening caused them to both look around. Their voices upbeat and jovial, Samos, Keira, Tess (with Daxter riding upon her shoulder), Torn and the rest of the Revenants walked in. Following them was a certain blind seer that had recently been reunited with her familiar.

"Jak, my boy!" Samos exclaimed, before embracing the Ascended Channeler's midsection in a tight hug.

A surprised look came over the dark elf's face, as he had not expected this to come from the usually gruff sage. Still, he had just returned to this city after a noticeable absence, so perhaps some long dormant paternal feelings had finally come to the surface.

"Good to see you again, Samos," he replied.

"You guys can go on with your happy little reunion, but the rest of the squads and myself need to have a talk with our Governess," Torn said as he pushed by them. "So if you'll excuse us."

As they went off to the far side of the room, Jak noticed that his soul mate and her adoptive father were engaged in a long awaited embrace. He was happy to see them together again, and he could only imagine what kind of nerve wracking ordeal the old man must have gone through when he learned what a disaster the initial counter attacks into the West Side, Harbor, and Industrial Districts had been.

However, a frown came over the green elf's face as he stared into her eyes, noticing the strange glow from where her pupils should have been. Somberly, he lowered his head, apparently figuring out what was going to happen over the next few minutes.

"Why?" the girl asked, her tone gentle, not hostile at all. "Why didn't you tell me?"

For some moments, Samos remained silent, his head bowed, his breathing deep, wondering how in the world he was going to bring this out, how he would explain himself to his adoptive daughter. Finally, he settled on just telling her the truth.

"Fear, Keira, fear," he stated, causing her to cock an eyebrow at him, completely lost by what he was saying. "I was afraid of losing you…"

She nodded silently, and then got down on a knee, looking her father in the eye.

"Please," she asked, "tell me what you know…"

She was desperate to know something, anything about her past. It was that instinctive drive to know ones origins, where one had come from. She'd always known that Samos had never been her real father, not in a biological sense at least. Still, it was a question that she needed to have answered.

A bitter feeling went through Samos, and he felt a bit of anger towards himself. This was something he should have done months ago. Tarath had told him at the Metal Head Nest that she'd had the right to know the truth of her heritage. He should have told her then. Fear had held him back, fear of no longer being her beloved father. It seemed silly, especially in light of all that had happened lately. The disastrous counter attack had taught him that, and in the weeks that had followed, he had agonized over the fact that Keira might very well die out there, perish without ever knowing the truth. Thus, he steeled himself, and prepared to pass on what he knew.

It had occurred years ago, just a few months after he and Jak had been transported back through the Rift, when he was still a much younger sage. He was still a little confused about all that was supposed to be going on, but he knew the importance that his little charge would be to the world. There were days when he wondered if the lad truly knew how many lives would depend upon his abilities, and if he could imagine, in his darkest nightmares, how much he would have to suffer for the sake of the world.

The day had been bright and sunny, a seemingly macabre irony given what would happen in a few minutes. He'd been in the village, and there had suddenly come a great commotion. Dashing out of his hut, he'd found that a number of people had gathered in the center of the little community, surrounding a flut-flut. On the bird like creature was a middle aged elf, who looked tired and haggard as could be. In one arm he held the reigns of his mount, while in the other was something the Sage couldn't quite make out at the moment.

Moving closer, he saw that it was a child, a girl. Her aqua colored hair was tangled and matter with bits of soot, and she looked around with fearful eyes at these new people.

"Who are you?" the mayor asked, weary of the stranger.

"My apologies, sir," he said with as much of a bow as he could manage from his current predicament, "my name is Rainer, and I come from the fortress of Ajare."

"What brings you to these parts?" Samos spoke up, noticing the claw marks on his arm, claw marks that looked eerily familiar.

"My home has fallen, attacked by some manner of demon we have never before seen," the rider said, a disgusted sigh coming from him. "Might I leave my charge with you?" he asked. "I must return and see if anyone else has survived."

"You should rest first, and have that wound seen too," Samos said, gesturing to the claw marks with his staff.

For the first time, the man seemed to notice the green color of the elf's skin. His eyes widened, and dumbly, he nodded his head.

"My house is this way," he said, and gestured with his staff.

The old elf frowned as he looked over at them. Both the girl, Keira, and her protector were asleep at the moment. Rainer was going to leave as soon as he woke up, as he was desperate to return back to the ruins of the place he came from, desperate to know if his lord and lady had survived. He'd seen the determination in his eyes, known that it would have been futile to try to dissuade him.

The Hora-quan never left any survivors when they attacked.

He just hoped that that crushing reality, when it finally hit, didn't cause him to do something stupid.

He looked over to the girl again. She trembled in her sleep, occasionally thrashing about and moaning. He'd been tempted to go over and try to comfort her, but he honestly hadn't a clue on how to do it. Parenting wasn't something that he was familiar with, as he had learned with young Jak. That was the reason that he'd turned him over to another person, rather than attempting to raise him on his own.

She yelped in her sleep again, and he looked up to the heavens, thought of asking of assistance or wondering 'why me' crossing through his mind. Slowly, he walked over to where she was, and then sat down next to her. Then he reached out, and began to stroke her head. She burrowed against it, as if it was the one comforting thing that was keeping her from slipping into oblivion.

He would stay like that throughout the night, her clutching to him, as if he was the answer to his prayers.

"Rainer left the next day, but he never came back, guess the Metal Heads must have hung around and waited to see if anyone would return," Samos said with a sigh. He looked up at Keira. "From the moment he described the attack, I knew what you were. The Hora-quan would only have mustered that many of their forces to attack a fortification with a Channeler in it. I asked him if there was anything special about you, just to be sure, and he confirmed my suspicions."

"Why didn't you tell him about the Metal Heads?" Keira inquired, still trying to understand all that she'd been told.

"It would have been rather awkward, seeing as how no one else knew of their existence, and I didn't want to risk somehow screwing things up, if you know what I mean," her father responded, sounding utterly helpless. "I was in the past, every action I took, I was somehow fearful might upset the future." He paused, taking a deep breath, before looking Keira in the eyes. "After a few weeks passed with no sign of Rainer coming back, I figured he wasn't going to. I was planning to hand you over to someone else… but I guess you kind of grew on me." He looked down at the ground, suddenly looking older and more diminutive than he ever seemed to before. "I'm sorry, Keira, I really am. I should have told you…"

"It's okay, daddy," she said, getting down on her knees and hugging the old elf close. "You'll always be my father."

"You don't know how good it is to hear that," Samos said, his voice cracking as a tear came from his closed eyes.

Jak watched as they held each other close, a faint smile on his face. Keira's story, like his own, seemed to have come full circle now. It was striking similar his life, and he wondered, deep down, if that was something that had caused them to be close to one another was because they had been through similar ordeals. He really didn't care, though. They were together, all of them now. He would cherish what time they had, as he couldn't' be certain whether they would survive what was coming. They had sent their response to Kerrog's ultimatum, and now the die had been cast.

He wasn't certain whether the future held victory or defeat, only that it held death, and lots of it.

Some time had passed, and the gang was spread out all over the room now. Torn and Ashelin, along with the remainder of the Revenants, were clustered around the computers, trying to devise a defense strategy. Jak and Keira, meanwhile, were back in one of the corners, just talking to each other. Samos and Onin meditated in the center of the room, their breathing deep and even as they tried to center themselves.

There came the sound of a door opening and several eyes drifted in its direction, wondering who it could be.

It was Count Veger, his usual swagger about himself and the air around him seeming to radiate his ego. He walked up towards where Torn was with a smile that did not reach his eyes upon his face.

"The Council wishes to congratulate you on your victory, Commander Torn," the chairman said, his voice cool and collected. "You've done an invaluable service to the city of Haven, and you've ensured our security for the future." He paused, his grin growing into a lopsided smirk as he turned to face Ashelin. "In light of this, the Council expects you to return control of the army over to us, so that we can use them to assist in the rebuilding of our glorious metropolis."

"You did receive the report I gave you the other day, correct?" the daughter of Praxis inquired, a scowl on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"We did," Veger returned, matching her posture, but maintaining that smug look.

"Then you and the rest of the Council are aware that we are going to be under attack from another source in the very near future? Or did you forget to read the pages about the Fallen Precursors?" she growled, not bothering to hide her disdain of this elf in front of her.

"We believe that we can handle it from here, thank you," the count said, looking down at some of his fingernails and rubbing them along his jacket. "After all, your report said that there would be no more than seven thousand of them, correct? Even with our recent losses, we outnumber them more than fifty to one."

Rage filled one person that was present, as he realized that history was about to repeat itself. The gods as his witnesses, he would not allow for his people to be slaughtered again due to the arrogance and incompetence of one man.

"Have you ever seen a Precursor in battle, Veger?" Jak said, stepping out of the shadows and walking towards the arrogant noble, taking grim delight as he watched his face become a study in shock.

"You!" he spat, his hands becoming fists, all of his cool and calm gone in light of realizing that the dark elf had returned, apparently to deliberately challenge him at this point. "You've got a lot of nerve…"

"I told you that the Wasteland wouldn't kill me, Veger, you should have realized that after we met the first time," the Ascended Channeler remarked, wanting to smirk, but holding back as the gravity of the situation didn't warrant it. "Now, before you lose control of your bladder," a couple of snickers and hastily coughing laughs came from the Revenants upon hearing this, "would you please answer my question: have you ever seen a Precursor fight?"

"I cannot say I have ever had the honor or the pleasure, demon," he snarled, his eyes narrowing.

"Well I have," Jak fired back, secure in the fact that he had everyone's attention, "I've met with them, spared with a few of their finest, and even gotten a couple of gifts from them," he gestured to the armor that was on his body. "Let me tell you, as the voice of experience in this room: seven thousand warriors are all the Fallen Ones would need to take this city. Hell, they could probably give you a good run with even half that number."

"We have tanks and gunships that…"

"A Precursor Juggernaut would smash them like they were toys, Veger, toys!" the dark elf growled, baring his teeth and clenching his fists. "They're centuries ahead of us in technology! Their armor and weapons would rip the Freedom League apart so quickly you wouldn't be able to believe it! And need I remind you of their Eco powers? They are living weapons!"

"So what would you suggest that we do?" Veger inquired with a sneer of contempt.

"I would suggest that you leave military matters in the hands of someone who actually knows what they are doing!" Jak growled, his slitted eyes narrowing and flashing purple.

"I think you should remember that you're still exiled on pain of death, monster!" the councilman replied, stung by this remark.

"No, he's not," Ashelin said suddenly, her voice quiet, "I have granted him a full vindication for whatever 'acts' you believe that he committed in defense of this city."

"You don't have the authority to do that!" the count all but roared, going wide eyed at what he had just heard. "The Haven City Council…"

"Is no longer in charge of the affairs of this city," the daughter of Praxis said, walking up to where she was right in Veger's face. "I am dissolving the council until further notice."

The noble's response was an open handed strike across her face. However, the power behind the blow was mediocre at best, and a second later the count found himself on the ground, knocked flat by the retaliatory backhand Ashelin gave him. He reached into his coat, going for the blaster he kept hidden there.

The room erupted into chaos, and dozens of soldiers leveled their weapons at Veger, while Jak unsheathed his blade and Keira her naginata. However, without a single doubt, the most ferocious figure in the room right then was Torn. His face twisted into a mask of hatred and loathing, he kept his morph gun trained right at the count's forehead. It was all coming to peak, his detestation of this pathetic excuse for a leader. The exiling of their greatest warrior, the botched counter attack that had cost thousands of lives, and the knowledge that history would be repeated on an even grander scale if Veger got his way, and the fact that he had dared to strike the woman he cared for, drove his rage almost to the boiling point.

"Go ahead, please," he begged, his trigger finger quivering, "give me the excuse!"

In the face of such rage, the councilman apparently thought better of his decision, and slowly rose to his feet, looking Ashelin in the eye with a look of pure hatred.

"Like father, like daughter, it would seem," he growled, rubbing his cheek, where a bruise could already be seen forming. Ashelin flinched at that, recoiling slightly as if he had struck her again, only with far more power.

"Shut up," Keira said in a tone of disgust.

A blinding flash filled the room as she ascended into her combat form. Veger stumbled backwards, in apparent awe of this. Then he looked to Jak, as if he could not comprehend that a creature such as she would be wed to him.

"Opposites attract," the dark elf replied with a shrug, very much amused at this turn of events.

Keira didn't say anything else, but striding forward, lashed out with a wing. The next thing that the count knew, he was up in the air, being held around his ankle. She moved towards the door, heedless of his protests and screams to be let down. As it opened, she leaned out, and with a snap, sent the man flying down the hallway, screaming all the while, much to the surprise and then amusement of the door guards.

Turning back inside, she reverted back to her normal form, a smirk on her face.

"Way to take out the trash," Daxter remarked with a chuckle.

"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that," she responded, a smile practically splitting her face in two.

Torn and Jak, however, were more concerned with Ashelin, She seemed to be almost hyperventilating, her shoulders trembling. They understood a moment later, and shared a glance. Veger's final remark had gotten to her. She was afraid of becoming like her father, of crossing that line. It was to be expected they supposed.

"You're not your old man," Torn responded softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Don't listen to what he said."

"We all knew it was going to come to this sooner or later," Jak said with a sigh.

"Is that what my father though before he revolted?" Ashelin asked bitterly, a dark frown upon her face. "Gods forgive me."

It was something that she feared more than Death himself. She held vivid memories of what Praxis had done, his final redemption notwithstanding. If she was willing to go this far, to seize control of the legitimate government in a coup, what was to stop her from crossing another line, restricting a freedom or two when the necessity arose? The road to hell was paved with good intentions, she'd always been told. Had she just taken her first steps?

"I'll start getting everyone together," the Revenant leader said, motioning to his fellow elites. "We'll draw up a plan…"

The daughter of Praxis nodded somberly as Keira walked over and placed a comforting hand upon her shoulder. They had to be united in the dark time. And united they were, united in their prayers that they were not about to repeat history.

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Hope that wasn't as bad as I thought it was. Will try to not let the next update be so far apart, and I thank everyone who's put up with me lately. Ideas are, as always, welcomed with open arms.

Also, I've tossed up another couple of stories, if anyone's interested in them.