Sorry about the delay again, folks. College life is a pain, and I'm busy studying for exams, grad tests, and possibly an LSAT. That aside, I hope life has been treating you well, and that everyone is doing fine.

The usual disclaimer applies, except for a character who will appear at the end of the chapter. He is the intellectual property of Philoworm, not me.

Also, special thanks to Animedragongirl for once again stepping up to the plate and correcting my errors.

&

Gathering of Allies

The trio walked through the various hallways of the catacombs. All around them, they could see a bustle of activity. Small repair drones were welding circuits back together and helping to assemble what appeared to be suits of Precursor armor.

"As you can see, we're still busily trying to prepare ourselves for the coming storm," Tarath said as he looked back over his shoulder. "But it still might not be enough."

"I'm still not sure entirely how many of these guys we're going to be facing." Jak moved faster, matching the Reaver's pace.

"Nor are we. We are preparing for the worst, though," Tarath replied.

"What did you mean when you said not to expect a warm welcome?" Keira asked, also moving up next to the dark warrior.

Tarath said nothing at first, and kept his gaze on the corridor ahead. The girl felt as if he was frowning behind his war helmet. Finally, he spoke. "Haven was founded by a Channeler, ruled over by them, watched over by them. In times of darkness, your people have turned to Mar's descendants to keep them safe. In other places, it has not been the same. I will leave it at that. I will not try to explain that which I was not a part of."

He turned a corner and they entered into another portion of the catacombs. There was a series of teleport gates around them, going up for three or four tiers up towards the top of the circular chamber. A few drones swarmed around, doing spot welding and soldering circuits together. A handful of Dragoons and Zealots also stood watchfully around. As one, they saluted Tarath as he approached, and held it as Jak and Keira passed.

"There is an intruder that needs to be detained in the artifact chamber. Secure him, bring him up to speed on the situation, and begin combat preparations," their guide ordered, gesturing behind him.

As one, the soldiers moved, the Dragoons blitzing away as little more than blurs. The Zealots followed, and while not as fast, they were certainly more agile than their heavy-set, overly armored appearance would lead one to believe. Jak felt a swell of pity for anyone who thought them to be little more than lumbering brutes. Then something occurred to him.

"You said to prepare Veger for combat training…" He paused and looked up at his ancestor. "Are you really that desperate?"

"We're already training our children to fight this battle. The dark elf couldn't miss the disgust that was in the Reaver's voice. "If our youth are going to be sacrificed for this struggle, then that sorry sack of puss certainly can be prepared to do the same."

"A wise choice, it would be the first useful thing that he did in his entire existence," Kage said, crossing his arms over his chest and nodding.

"We just have to make certain that he won't be more of a liability than an asset. I don't want people to die because of his cowardice." Jak kept his inner voice neutral. Still, he had to agree with his alter ego. There was a lot riding on what was coming.

"Why does the fate of the world always seem to fall on our shoulders?" Daxter gave voice to their thoughts. It was the first that the little guy had spoken since his joyous outburst a few minutes earlier, almost a new record for him in the art of silence. Jak look down to his friend, but could get nothing else out of him. He seemed unusually pensive, merely sitting there on the dark elf's shoulder, his right hand propping up his chin.

The four of them stopped in front of one of the teleporters. Tarath moved forward and pressed a few buttons on it. There was a blue crystal at the top of the golden hoop, which came to life for a moment, and began to run a scan over them. It tingled at their flesh, a sensation that Jak found best comparable to someone running a feather over his skin very quickly.

"Identities confirmed, destination approved," the computer chimed. The watery distortions of the warp portal appeared before them. Tarath stepped through first, and then they followed. The sensation was at it always was, a sense of vertigo, a brief flash of nausea as they were ripped through an area that was not quite reality, and yet was. Still, they managed to emerge on their feet, and were grateful for that. They stared around, and Jak heard a gasp of awe from his wife

They were in what could only have been a motor pool, or at least its equivalent. The room they were in was massive, more than half a mile long, and just as deep. The ceiling, several hundred feet high, had clamps and bracers on it. What appeared to be some manner of drop ship was dangling from it. Beneath them, on the floor, were hundreds of assault bikes. Dragoons, some of them veteran warriors, others apparently the children that Tarath had talked about, stood over them, preparing the vehicles and familiarizing themselves with them. Keira was taken in and overwhelmed by it all. Her mechanic side demanded that she head to each of the vehicles and stations and find out how they worked, what made them tick, every little idiosyncrasy and quirk that the vehicles could have.

Jak suddenly asked "Where's Sentinel?"

"He's not here," Tarath replied. "We uncovered an old weapons cache out in the Wasteland, and he's currently doing inventory there. As soon as we've tallied up what we've got, we'll decide our next course of action. It may prove to ultimately useless, though," he added, approaching a control panel and typing in a series of commands. He looked back over his shoulder as he finished, seeing through their masks and understanding the looks that they were giving him. "The Fallen have access to a heavy assault cruiser. We're not sure how they made the conversion, as the Day Star was originally little more than a transport, only armed enough for self defense." He sighed bitterly. "If they wanted to, they could blast everything remotely resembling opposition into oblivion from the safety of orbit. We're currently trying to figure out a way to neutralize the Day Star, but if we can't, we will be, as you say 'up the creek without a paddle.'"

Jak, Keira, and Daxter said nothing. They were distracted by a noise from above. One of the drop ships had detached from its holdings and was now drifting down towards them. It hovered some thirty feet above where they were standing, and a light opened up from the bottom. Again, Tarath went first, steppestepping into the light, and they watched as the brightness contrasted and haloed his midnight black armor. Then he rose into the ship.

"I guess we follow him, then," Jak muttered, stepping up next. Daxter gave a slight yelp as they were lifted up. The sensation of it reminded Jak of a wild ride on a flut-flut, the feeling of his stomach rising up into his chest. It was over sooner than he expected and he was inside of the ship. He looked around. It reminded him a lot of the drop ships used by the Freedom League, except they were more spacious on the inside. Tarath had reverted back to his 'natural' state, and was now floating over what appeared to be a troop seating area. It was long, like a bench, and there was a small amount of padding. The ottsel warrior scratched the back of his head sheepishly, and looked at his descendant.

"I'm afraid that this wasn't really designed with elves in mind," he said, and he sighed. "Much as I hate to say it, I'm afraid that you'll have to sit on the floor."

"We've had worse accommodations," the dark elf said, waving a hand dismissively.

"Indeed, compared to some of those KG transports we were in, and the prison cells, this place is downright homey," Kage chuckled, and for a moment Jak had trouble deciding whether the oni was being bitter or genuinely trying to lighten up the situation. He decided that he would settle on the latter, and moved towards the rear of the ship. Keira though, moved towards the front, staring at the small cockpit in wonder, trying to memorize every detail.

A series of Precursor soldiers moved in behind them. Jak recognized the various types. Dragoons, Zealots, Templars, Arbiters, and even a pair of Archons fitted out the forty soldier crew. One of the blue armored Dragoons moved towards the front of the craft and another into a seat that was just a tad higher than the pilot station.

"A gunner," Tarath said, as the other soldiers settled around him. "We're not foolish enough to send our drop ships in without the ability to defend themselves."

"Honorbound One, reporting in," the pilot said. "Two, do you copy?"

"Roger that, flight lead. Take us out."

The crafts rumbled faintly and rose up. Jak and Daxter turned their attention to the area that they could see. In front of the windows they saw an opening appear; light poured in from the gap, rapidly widening.

"By the gods…"Kage murmured in awe. Jak found himself in silent agreement with his companion. The base that they were in was set into a large mountain range. Pristine sunlight reflected off of the snow capped peaks.

For a moment, he felt as though he were back in Sandover's time. He held onto that moment of peace, tucked it away safely, and then prepared himself for the coming conflict.

"Brace yourselves," a soldier said. "These crates can move pretty fast."

Daxter opened his mouth to say something, and then found it forcefully shut as he and his friend were both shoved back against the rear of the craft. Keira met a similar fate, falling backwards and sliding towards them before she crashed up against the other two. The whine of the engines roared in their ears, and they rocketed out of the hangar.

"Told you," the trooper crowed, before laughing.

As the doors opened in front of him, Samos looked around control room, searching for Ashelin. The Governess was busy at her command desk, looking over files, taking in notes of the casualty reports and damage to the various sectors. They were still working hard to get everything back up, but most of the Industrial District had been brought back up to speeds. Or at least, the bits responsible for turning out war machines. Vin was personally overseeing the construction of a new series of Hunter Killers, which would function as heavy shock infantry if an when the Fallen Precursors attacked.

As the Sage stepped up towards her, she took notice of him.

"Samos, what is it?" she placed down a form and gave him her undivided attention.

"I need to head out to the Wasteland, to Spargus, specifically," he said, tapping his staff against the floor.

"May I ask why?" Ashelin raised an eyebrow. What business would a Green Eco Sage have in that life-devoid hellhole?

"There is someone there that I need to speak with, someone that Onin has recently informed me about," he said.

Ashelin nodded gravely. "I'll get a drop ship ready for you, and a squad of my best soldiers." Both of them knew better than to question the wisdom of the old seer.

Jak wasn't certain how long it took them to reach their destination. He kept looking at Tarath his mind trying to digest all the things he'd learned. There were so many things that he still wanted to ask the old warrior, especially in light of the recent revelations that he'd seen. Why had the Ancients kept their appearance a secret for so long? Why hadn't the Reaver been entirely truthful with them? And then there was the soldier himself. Both he and Kage had noticed how a portion of the old ottsel's dreadlocks were gray, rather than black. He was fairly certain they weren't a sign of old age, so then what could they be? He was also surprised, again, by Daxter's silence. His childhood friend seemed to have a look of deep, almost pensive, thought about him, something that he could remember seeing only rarely.

"What are you thinking about?" the dark elf asked.

Daxter raised his head and looked over towards him. His left eyebrow raised up, but he said nothing at first. Jak cocked his head to the side, and with a faint grumble, Daxter finally spoke.

"A lot, let's just leave it at that." The ottsel muttered, crossing his arms and returning to his musings.

"I worry for him; he's had quite a bit happen to him these past few hours." Kage tapped a finger against his muzzle, his wings folding in around himself.

"I agree, but at the same time, I don't want to push him too hard. You know what it's like to just want some time to think and focus on everything that's going on," Jak replied. He looked over to his wife. She was still staring around in wonderment at all the devices and controls that there were to be found on the ship. However, she didn't have long to observe, before an alarm started to warble.

"Situation?" Tarath said, leaping up from his seat and floating over to the pilot.

"We've arrived at our destination, but I'm detecting weaponized Eco signatures, and Hora-quan life forms," the pilot said grimly, before barking out orders. "ETA two minutes, Honorbound Two, prep your soldiers and double check your weapons, looks like this is going to be a hot insert!"

The Precursor warriors on the ship said nothing, but they sprang into action immediately. Weapons were readied and a hushed tension filled the air. Jak reached back and felt for Kitetsu, nodding to himself and focusing. He could already feel the adrenaline starting to pulse and flow through his body. Unlike earlier, this time, he welcomed it, it didn't take much for him to hate the Metal Heads. Another chance to thin their ranks would always be welcomed.

The two minutes passed in what was seemingly an instant and before he knew it, the pilots were broadcasting images to the HUDs of the soldiers. Jak was greeted with the sight of several plateau type formations, each one several hundred feet high and seemed to be carved from granite. Given how sheer and steep the rock walls were, he was honestly surprised that the Metal Heads were able to mount anything that resembled an assault upon the place. Then he noticed what was going on. Guardians were flying around the area, some of them blasting buildings with their Dark Eco breath weapons, while others moved in close, and other Metal Heads sprang off of them. Apparently, the large creatures could double as transports. Dozens of them swarmed around, spraying Dark Eco everywhere and offloading scores of soldiers. As always, Crab Heads were leading the assault, barking out orders and keeping their lesser soldiers in line.

"Swat those things down!" Tarath barked, while heading back for the gravity lift. A multitude of flashes filled the holding area as the Precursors assumed their combat forms. Clad in their armor, with their weapons reflecting the light, they were a sight to behold. Jak wondered if he was the first elf to see them like this in thousands of years

"Aerial units first, take down those freaks before they can cause any more damage.. The rest of you, wait until you're over something a little more solid." Tarath said, and with that, he was gone. The soldier compliment followed in earnest.

"I'm bringing us in, one pass, bang out fast, then I've got to drop those Guardians before they take us all down," the pilot yelled out over the comm. system.

"Roger that," Keira said. Her voice was colder than it had been before. Jak recognized the lust for vengeance that lurked just underneath the surface. He felt genuinely sorry for anyone who got in her way.

Even as the transport came streaking in, slipping in between the structures, the gunner turned his weapons on the airborne foes. Wasps exploded into steaming clouds of vaporized flesh, armor, and Eco as the bolts streaked in. Jak stepped onto the lift, placing Daxter on one of the seating pads. The ottsel started to protest, but Jak was gone before he could hear it.

The town, if it was indeed that, reminded Jak of a desert dwelling people he had once read about, who had carved their homes out of the rock and sun kissed stone, using it to shield themselves from the worst of the elements. The place was partially destroyed now, disintegrated stone and buildings everywhere, as were the Metal Heads. The Ascended Channeler spotted a group dead ahead of himself, composed of a mix of Grunts, Drones, and Centurions, and rushed at them. He drew his katana with a single, smooth stroke, created a shadow copy of it, and unleashed a lightning attack. Three Drones died instantly as the bolts coursed over their body, but the rest of them took up flanking positions while the Centurions raised their shields and opened fire with their blasters.

The dark elf weaved and dodged as best as he could, deflecting a round when it got too close to him for comfort. A couple of rounds still connected with him, but his armor was sturdy and held up to them. He focused his powers and summoned up a dark bomb. He grunted as he shot it at them, and heard their squawks as the Dark Eco homed in on them. It detonated a split second later, and when the blast cleared, only half disintegrated bodies remained.

Precursor soldiers started to charge past him, and for the first time, Jak watched their assault. They worked together on a level that almost seemed telepathic to him. A dragoon charged forward, weaving between eco bolts fired by a Crab Head. The Ancient extended a hand, and an unseen force blasted the Metal Head off of its feet. It smashed into to the building behind it with enough force to crack the masonry. As it slumped down, the Dragoon attacked again, sweeping a wave of Drones effortlessly to the side. Then a Zealot moved forward. The hulking, red armored soldier focused for a moment, clenching its fists. Around it, bits of debris and rubble began to glow. The Dragoon gestured, and picked them up telekinetically. Another flick of the wrist sent them towards the pile of Metal Heads that were trying to untangle themselves from one another.

The pieces of debris went off like a half ton bomb. The fireball enveloped the Hora-quan, while superheated stone shrapnel tore through their bodies. Jak winced as he observed the event, realizing that this was how the Ancients had used when they fought in ancient times

The small squad of Dragoons and Zealots quickly worked together to clear the area of any surrounding Metal Heads. It was not long before they had managed to clear the area of the fiends, and they began to move forward. Jak was at the lead, both of his weapons ready to tear into the flesh of his hated enemy. As they rounded a corner, he heard the sounds of battle and saw the massive blob of movement on his motion sensor.

"Here we go,"Kage growled, his talons flexing. The Dark Eco demon wanted out, but Jak decided to save that for an emergency. He wasn't sure what these people would make of an approaching devil.

The street turned in to what must have been some form of marketplace or plaza. Channeled attacks and Eco bolts streaked back and forth across it. The fighting was building to building; an elf would lean out from behind a window, fire, and then withdraw in the face of a furious retaliation from the Metal Heads that occupied the next structure. Jak looked over to his wife, and they nodded. Dark lightening and white light flew down the street a moment later a pair of Centurions that had been taking cover in a doorway never had a chance. The explosion got the attention of a few more, which turned to see its source. The sight of the Precursor warriors was enough to shock them for a moment or two, something that the group of fighters used to their advantage. Jak watched as a Dragoon telekinetically grabbed a Crab Head, before yanking it out of the building with such force that part of it was torn clean through a wall. Even from where he was, he could hear its howl of agony. A downward gesture smashed the creature into the ground, silencing it forever.

"Are you about to let them take all of the burden?" Kage asked, sounding impatient.

Jak did not answer. He dispelled the shadow blade in his left hand and summoned up a dark mist attack. The cloud of inky darkness rushed around, dividing itself up and swarming through the buildings occupied by the Hora-quan. The horrid cries of the Metal Heads consumed by the Dark Eco manifested a second later. Grunts and Drones broke ranks and tried to flee, and Jak and the others could hear the desperate shouting of the Crab Heads as they tried to restore order. It was not working, however. The elves and Precursors alike watched as a centurion hurled itself out of a sixth story window. The creature was missing a portion of one foot, and its dark ichor-like blood splattered to the stone ground a half second before it did.

Jak released his concentration before he drained himself too much. There were not too many of their foes left in this area, but he felt confident that his swordsmanship and other, less intensive powers would be sufficient.

"Keep moving forward! We've nearly cleaned up the situation up here," Tarath called to them over the radio commlink.

"Roger that," Jak kept his voice neutral, his eyes darting about, trying to find where the next group of enemies might be hiding. They were discovered as the Precursors went about their business. Huddling away in the bottom floor of one of the rubble strewn buildings was a group of a dozen Drones. The four legged creatures were obviously terrified at the sudden change of odds, and were trying to remain inconspicuous. A Zealot quickly moved forward. He didn't waste time moving in and cutting them down with his psion blade; instead, the hulking solider merely extended his hands. There was a flash of heat, and thick, oily fire appeared from out of nowhere. Though most of Jak's view was blocked by the massive frame of the warrior, he did notice the fire streaking about almost as if it were a living being. It caught the creatures as they tried to flee from the crimson armored Ancient. One tried to dart up the staircase, but the dark elf watched as a tendril of fire snaked up and wrapped itself around the fiend's waist. It gave a howl, reared up, and then it fell backwards, to be consumed by more of the inferno.

The stench of burning flesh soon assaulted the Ascended Channeler, but he ignored it, and focused on cleaning out the rest of the town.

As he worked, he noticed that there were a few defenders up in the buildings. They looked ragged and weary, and there was a noticeable amount of distrust on their faces. 'Mysterious rescuers of unknown origin miraculously arriving in coherence with an enemy assault' sounded suspicious enough to Jak's ears.

"Footman, remain here with an Arbiter and a Dragoon, guard these entranceways. Make sure they remain safe," one of the larger Zealots said.

"At once, Centurion!" one of his fellows responded, saluting The warrior stood in front of an entrance with two of his comrades, and moved inside the threshold. Any Hora-quan that stepped through the doorway would be in for a very nasty surprise.

"Everyone else, fall in behind me. The devils are still around, waiting to taste our blades!" the officer shouted.

They began to advance once more, through the ruins of the town.

"Praetor, we are approaching the center of the settlement," the Centurion said as they moved up alongside the street, Zealots in the middle of the formation, with the Dragoons taking up the flanks and darting around in quick, blurred motions.

This region is in absolute shambles, Jak thought to himself. The street he was walking on reminded him a lot of the slums back at Haven, or at least, what they would have looked like if they had been made of stone instead of metal. It ran down the path they were on for another five hundred feet, with three other roads intersecting it at regular intervals. Half of that street was blocked by fallen debris and rubble form the destroyed buildings. Not a single one of the stone dwellings was intact. Jak did notice something odd, however; some of the structures were covered in a fine to thick layer of dust, while others appears to have small wooden and metal props sticking up out of them. They reminded him almost of tent stakes, like someone had been trying to set something up there.

"This is not the first time this village has been attacked," Kage growled to himself. The oni's muscles bulged and dark lightning crackled over his claws. Jak felt his presence surge to the forefront of his mind. The demon wanted to fight, to rend the Metal Heads to pieces with his bare talons and his teeth. Still, Jak held him back.

"Another time, Kage, another time. You'll get your shot," he whispered in his mind. This seemed to placate Kage to a point, but the dark elf's alter ego was nearly consumed by a lust for the destruction of their enemies.

"Nearly finished up here," Tarath said to them. "Once we've managed to blast the fiends out of the sky, we'll move in while the drop ships provide additional cover fire."

Advancing at full speed, they quickly reached the corner. Jak was the first one to it. His motion tracker was negative to any contacts in the immediate area, but he could hear weapons fire and explosions further down. He carefully peeked around the corner, ready to duck back the minute things proved to hot for his liking. The battle was close, about six hundred feet away. He took note of what he saw: the Metal heads were swarming around what appeared to be a barricade. While shots of Yellow Eco pulsed by again and again, each blast striking at either a Metal Head or close enough to cause them to fall back. Centurions and Crab Heads kept up the fire, and once in a while Jak would hear the sound of an elf being hit by the fire.

"We've reached what appears to be the primary contested area, Praetor," the Centurion said. "Preparing to make an assault from the east."

"Roger that, we just finished mopping up here. We'll be coming in from the north, so watch your fields of fire," Tarath replied.

"Understood, Praetor," the warrior growled.

The soldiers moved in, taking advantage of what cover the rubble provided, ducking and weaving, working their way as close as they could. Jak noticed that there was a gold armored Crab Head standing off to the side of one of the buildings. The creature's huge frame moved with lightning quickness as it popped in an out of an alley, firing its twin weapons. One burst caught an elf in the chest: the man slumped down, his chest blown wide open. Kage snarled within the dark elf. He demanded action, and Jak was more than happy to provide it. They were close enough now that the Precursors could make lethal use of their powers.

"Engaging," he muttered into his comm.

The Ancients acknowledged his statement, and as he popped up and unleashed his dark powers, they followed suit. The closest Metal Heads were burned alive in an instant as the Zealots blazed their way into close combat. They kept the streams moving out in front of them as they closed, preventing the Grunts and Drones from flanking them. Centurions and Crab Heads opened fire on them, but the bolts were largely ineffective.

Keira was not to be left out. She swept a pair of energy beams across the path of the Hora-quan before her. Their deaths were swift; they didn't even have time to cry out. Then she was up beside her soul mate. The two of them cleared the broken field of debris and reached the square. A pair of dark bombs flew from Jak's hands and exploded amongst the densest concentrations. He then turned his attention to the gold armored leader.

The creature noticed him, and raised both guns. It opened up with short controlled bursts. Much as Jak tried, he wasn't able to deflect them all and found himself having to weave about in order to avoid getting hit. The Metal Head dodged and weaved as best it could, but some of the bolts Jak Reflected connected with it and crackled over its armor. The beast howled in agony, but managed to keep up the focus. It barked orders into it its comm. system, and the Metal Head forces abruptly split.

That was all it had time for before Jak had closed to the point where he could bring out his sword. Kitetsu sang its song as it tore through the creature's armor, sliced into flesh and bone, and into free air. The Crab Head drooled blood and collapsed, its rifles firing uselessly into the ground as it expired.

A cry of fury sounded in Jak's ear, and he turned to see Tarath come blasting in. Dark Eco and bursts of black energy streamed from the Reaver's hands. A group of Centurions that had interlocked their shields tried to raise them to ward the attack, but they were not fast enough. Agonized cries echoed through the town square as the Dark Eco began to consume their bodies.

Tarath came in instantly, a blur of motion as he hit a formation of Grunts that were trying to reground under the command of a Crab Head, not minding that they were trying for a retreat instead of an assault. Jak and Keira both stopped in their attacks as they saw him. Neither had witnessed the famed Precursor warrior in battle before. Jak had sparred with him before… but this… this was different. The black armored warrior was like a possessed devil, his warp blade striking everywhere at once. The first one to die was a Grunt standing in front of the Crab Head.

Its head was taken off in a single decisive strike. Blood erupted in a shower that covered the Praetor and the remaining Metal Heads. More lightening erupted, and the two Drones standing in front of their leader died instantly. The Crab Head snarled in its native tongue and fired on Tarath. The Reaver however, dodged to the side. At the same time more blasts of channeled Dark Eco exploded in their ranks. The Hora-quan leader turned and gaped as he realized that he'd been flanked.

Ferocious as Tarath's assault was, it was little more than a diversion. The other Reavers had maneuvered into position, and were now on top of one of the buildings. They held a commanding view of the battlefield, and now there was nowhere that the Metal Heads could retreat to. Distracted as it was, the Crab Head forgot all about the Praetor until it felt the warp blade tearing into its side. Its howl of agony was cut off in mid cry as the metatron weapon bit deep into its flesh. Tarath's dreadlocks fluttered out behind him as he finished the spinning strike. Even as its corpse fell to the side, however, he launched himself at the now disoriented and leaderless Metal Head group.

A Grunt leaped at him, claws outstretched and ready to tear at him. What it got instead was the Praetor's boot in its throat. The twin taloned foot slashed across it, nearly decapitating the creature. Another one tried to dive around and flank him, but Tarath's warp blade caught it, slicing one of its arms clean off. A dark bolt of energy finished it.

Jak and Keira were both advancing, thinning the enemy ranks instead of watching Tarath; it was too dangerous not to. There were only a few dozen Metal Heads left, and there was no escape for them. Between the Reavers and Templars raining death down on their foes, and the Dragoons covering the exits, oblivion was the only way out. Some of them still tried to hole up in the buildings, but the Zealots were quickly cleaning them out with their pyrokinesis and psion claws. Off in the distance, a few stragglers that were trying to make their way towards and from the market place were being blasted apart and atomized by the drop ships' weapons.

Tarath was still blazing away, and from where the two elves were, they could see his eyes glowing like coals behind his visor. There was something about his stance now that went beyond just fighting, more than just the adrenaline rush of battle.

Jak recognized it instantly. Hate. Rage was consuming the Reaver, rage that was strangely dualed in nature. He radiated the emotion in white hot waves, but his stance never faltered, every slash, cut, and thrust was measured and balanced. The hate was cold. The hate was calculated.

A roar came from the warrior's throat, and he lunged for another Metal Head. His blade stabbed forward, diving in halfway up to the hilt before he dragged it down and gutted it. He jumped up over a diving attack that one of the Drones launched at his legs, spinning around in mid air and cutting open its spine. There was only one left that he had to deal with, one final Hora-quan. He let it come at him. The Drone leaped, coming up off its four legs and sailing throat the air. As it neared his throat, Tarath's left hand shot out and grabbed it around the neck. The creature instantly realized that it had fallen neatly into his opponent's hand, and began to squirm. Tarath didn't give it the opportunity to free itself, and he quickly twisted his wrist to one side. The sound of cracking bone was clearly heard. The Precursor let the corpse fall, and simply stood where he was. Jak was surprised; the other Ancients were panting, some of them still in the heat of battle, but Tarath did not. It was almost as if the Reaver wasn't breathing at all.

Jak and Keira both approached him, and as they did, he turned to face them.

"You both fought well. You should be proud of yourselves," he said, flicking his warp blade back into its non active position. "Status reports?" he asked the others.

"Everything is green, Preator. A few minor injuries, nothing the Arbiters can't handle," a Centurion stated. "We got off pretty easy. I don't think they were expecting us."

"Don't expect it to happen twice. Now Kerrog will know that we've entered the game." He looked around at the half destroyed town, his eyes drifting up to the elves that he could see at the windows, ready to continue fighting at the moment that things turned hostile. "This was no random raid. Kerrog must have known about this place. He knew we'd be coming here."

"What now?" Keira asked.

"They make the next move," Tarath said, moving up towards one of the buildings.

Sure enough, before long, one of the Channelers emerged from the structure. An old, legionnaire styled helmet covered his head, which went with a similar style of old plate armor. Still, Jak could see his violet eyes, and knew the Channeler was in charge, just by the way he carried himself. The elf was slightly shorter than he was, and his build lent to the belief that he was quicker on his feet than he was strong. The two blades on his belt, longer than knives but not quite into the short sword category, seemed to support this.

Jak matched the elf's stare, twisting his head slightly. The man radiated hostility and suspicion. "Who are you?" the elf growled, one hand on a hilt.

"Friends," Tarath said, stepping over to him. The eyes immediately snapped to the Precursor, and Jak saw no trust in them.

"We have no friends." His voice was hard in a manner that Jak found hauntingly familiar.

"He sounds like we used to…" Kage blinked within his mind, his wings twitching uncomfortably at what he was seeing.

"There's a first time for everything," Keira said, stepping forward. The girl didn't seem at all unnerved by her appearance, with the black and green ichor of Metal Head blood dripping down her armor and Masamune. "What's your name?" she asked.

The elf stared at her, long and cold. Keira kept her stance neutral, refusing to be intimidated by this fellow. She had faced down a lot during her time in this future, including her own husband in his darker moments. She refused to blink, even though she knew that he couldn't see her eyes.

"Enough." Tarath took a step in-between the two of them. He looked at the elf, "Please, your hostility is unwarranted. If we had wanted to destroy you, we would have sat back and let the Metal Heads do it for us. Do not confuse us with your enemy, for they are our foes as well."

More Channelers were stepping out into the open, and Jak found himself amazed at how many were present. Just in this square he was able to count more than fifty, and there might be more inside of the building, holding back where he couldn't see them.

The other elf seemed to relent to a degree. He reached up and took off his helmet, showing that his hair matched his eyes. Whether it was natural or not, Jak couldn't tell.

"My name is Zidon," he said, looking back and forth between the three people in front of him, "and for the moment, I am the leader of these people."

"For the moment?" Keira cocked her head to one side.

"We face frequent assaults by Metal Heads, you never know when the reaper's going to come for you." Zidon chuckled bitterly at his own morbid humor, and Jak thought he saw a glimpse beneath the hardened mask on the elf's face. There was something more to this fellow. "I see that you are the same as us. Where were you exiled from?"

There was a moment of silence as Jak and Keira exchanged a glance between the two of them.

"They come from a city that was founded by a Channeler," Tarath stepped in, "and they have come to offer you an alliance on their behalf."

With the perimeter secure, and with the gunships watching for approaching hostiles, Jak finally felt it safe enough to remove his helmet. He popped the seal, and took it off. Keira followed suit a moment later. As always, Zidon did a double take when he saw their eyes. Then he bristled. "An alliance? With the outside world? With the people who turned their backs on us, left us out here to die, and even actively hunted us down?" A fist clenched and hate seethed in his eyes.

"They are not like the ones who wronged you-" Tarath began.

"And you would know, wouldn't you, Ancient?" Zidon turned his wrath on the Precursor. "Yeah, we know what you are, and you're no better than the other elves. Where were you guys when the Metal Heads hunted us down ruthlessly just because we had your blood running through our bodies? Where were you guys when we were lost and alone? Huh? Answer us!"

"You want the truth?" Tarath folded his arms across his chest. "Then you are entitled to it after all these years." A black orb formed around him, and when it faded, he was back in his ottsel form, hovering four feet or so above the ground. The Channelers that had gathered around all took a step back away from him. "The story is long, though, and our time is short, so please, listen carefully."

Zidon leaned back against a building. The elf was brooding, thinking about all that he had been told in the past few minutes. Tarath still hovered before him, his dreadlocks and tail twitching slightly, The Channeler's violet eyes drifted from him to Keira, then Jak, and at last, he spoke.

"Very well, you have an alliance," he said. "But I want you to know this: We're going to do this because if we don't then we're all dead. Don't expect anything lasting of it."

The trio nodded, and Tarath opened up a commlink with the base.

"Executor, they have agreed. We'll have a force of Channelers for the final battle. Have we any further progress on how to stop the Day Star?" he asked.

"Ariki has come up with a plan. Its risky, but the payoff could be worth it."

Before he could go on, though, Keira got a beeping noise from her comm.. Confused, she opened it.

"Keira!" It was her father, the connection was filled with white noise and static, though. She couldn't hear much of what was being said. "Spargus… Metal Heads… Under attack…" The connection died immediately after that.

She looked over to Jak, and then both looked to Tarath. The Ancient was already in action though, and one of the gunships swooped down, its gravity lift coming to life.

"Executor, send the transports to this place, I'm taking half our force to try and assist!" He didn't even wait for a reply, dashing into the light and disappearing. The two Ascended Channelers were right behind him.

&

Okay, hope that chapter was okay. Not much else that I can think to say, aside from the usual. Hope you all enjoyed it, and thanks for your time. Until next time, have a great day.