A/N: Okay. That last chapter took a lot out of me, but thankfully this one was already set to submit. Well, not really. It was just bits and pieces. But I finally got up the courage to sew them together in the right order, adding a few transitions here and there. This is when the story gets good, people.

Oh, and according to my awesome short buddy, LeiaOrganicSolo, Shae sports a pair of red goggles on her head. Who knew? I decided to integrate that into this chapter just for you, short buddy!

PLEASE READ THIS NEXT PART.

Disclaimer: I expect by now it's sunk in that I do not own the title "Jak and Daxter". Who does? Naughty Dog! However, the codenames later in the chapter are courtesy of my cousin Zack. Personally, I think they're kind of silly and idiotic – no offense, buddy. It worked when we were discussing it – but when I put it in, the context seemed rather unrelated. However, Zack is two years older and a heck of a lot bigger. So what can you do? I hope you get a good laugh out of it, anyway.

Enjoy!

Part 2: Chapter 8: Team Player

There was a reason Haven Forest was temporarily off-limits to normal citizens. That reason being, there are huge, bloodthirsty Metal Bug flankers hiding within the trees, waiting for some unfortunate rule-breaker to come and interrupt their respite.

"Unfortunate" and "rule-breaker" are two words that described me perfectly, so one can already assume what became of my visit to the forest.

So, there I was: crouching on the tree branch, Eco pistol in hand, eyes and ears on high-alert, waiting for a Metal Head Scout to appear. The evening air was still and calm, save the soothing flow of a nearby stream and a strange buzzing noise I could not place. The double sunset provided just enough light for sharp visibility.

Suddenly, something changed, and I heard a rustle of leaves. Peering through the branches, I tried to pinpoint the direction from which the noise was coming from. Then I realized: it was much too close to be a Scout. Slowly turning my head, my eyes focused in on a swarm of roughly a dozen gigantic wasp-like Metal Bugs.

Seeing no smarter alternative, I turned tail and jumped out of the tree, wincing at the sharp contact of my ankles to the hard earth. I then proceeded to do what I had been doing for years.

I ran.

Still I heard the buzzing behind me, gradually becoming louder. I knew the flankers had caught up to me when I felt the acute stab of pain from a stinger piercing my skin, right above the inside of my knee. I cursed under my breath but continued to run nonetheless. Two more needles jabbed my skin, and the areas around the spikes began to swell and turn an ugly red.

I ran as fast as my legs would carry me until I got to the exit platform, finally willing my feet to stop. Thankfully, the buzzing had ceased altogether by that point, and a quick 360˚ revealed calm surroundings once again. I sighed in relief and collapsed on the platform, which had begun levitating back towards the Mountain Temple.

Whether by actual flankers or simply paranoia, the low, buzzing sound reached my ears again, extracting a strange reaction somewhere between twitching and shivering. Moving unnaturally fast the moment the platform touched ground, I hopped through the rift ring, which placed me on the other size of the chasm, right next to an entrance to the city. I strode towards it quickly and stepped into the airlock.

When the doors reopened, I walked casually back onto the dirt road of the Gardens Sector. My eyes spotted a parked zoomer to my right, which I promptly mounted and drove back to the Underground Hideout.

Upon arriving in the cramped, musty room, threw myself onto the nearest bunk bed, barely managing to remain conscious. I wanted to wrap myself in the ugly blankets and fall asleep, but knew deep down that was unwise.

The temperature outside was beginning to drop significantly, but the only heating used in the Hideout originated from a small heater in the corner. The main room was kept reasonably warm, but the hallways and chambers in the back could get extremely cold. Some recruits chose to sleep on one of the small, filthy bunks in the main room during the winter, solely because of the heat. (The conditions were much better in the back rooms.) But even in mid-autumn, I was beginning to consider camping out here myself, despite the fact that Underground agents would be coming and going all night.

A moment later, I sat up and began the much-pain-inducing process of removing the flanker stingers from my skin, consisting of pinching the area around the wound and yanking on the needle. Once the spears head been removed, a vile green poison began to secrete from the puncture holes. I shuddered and stuck out my tongue in disgust.

"Need I remind you that you're still not an official member?" Torn asked from his regular spot behind the large wooden desk in the middle of the room.

I looked up from my work and gave him an impassive glance. His eyes, however, still studied the maps and paperwork laid out in front of him. "Need I remind you that I'm allowed to stay the night as long as I do something useful for you?"

"And…?" he prodded. I rolled my eyes.

"Look, I camped out in three different trees for two hours and I saw nothing. How much proof do you need? Let me spell it out for you: There are no more Scouts in Haven Forest." I stressed each word equally.

"Did you bring physical proof?"

A loud, exasperated sigh escaped my lips. "Precursors, Torn, I've done enough! Just let me stay the night," I begged. Even after much practise, my acting talents could only be considered moderate at best.

"You can stay the night," he said, although he seemed to leave it hanging, as if he would continue the sentence. Relieved by his comment despite the tone, I was about to collapse on the bed, no matter how dirty it was when Torn continued. "But only the night. Come back in about an hour."

"Still embarrassed to have me around, Torn?" I asked very sarcastically.

A ghost of a smile pulled at his lips, but dissipated just as quickly. "Go get something to eat, drive around a bit, and come back. You'll feel better, anyway."

"I don't know. I'd rather stay here, make a meal out of your lovely and not-at-all long-past-expired dried food packets, and breathe in the tantalizing fresh air of this roomy home…"

"Get out of here, worthless girl," he snarled playfully, tossing the nearest writing utensil at me. I giggled.

Unable to find the strength to protest further, I rose from the bed, hearing the timeworn wood creak from relief of weight. Torn had never quite warmed up to me, but we both held some sort of respect for each other. There was some unspoken agreement of "I won't annoy you, you won't annoy me, and we'll all be happy." Not the friendliest relationship in the world, but effective enough.

"Oh, by the way," Torn called just moments before I exited the small room. I whirled under the threshold and gave Torn my best listless expression.

"There are some agents planning a team tag game at the gun course tomorrow morning, if you're interested."

"Are you kidding?" I questioned eagerly. "Of course I want to go!"

"I thought you were too tired," he challenged.

I stuck out my tongue indignantly. "Tell them I'll be there." Then, acting very nonchalant, I gave a quick wave and strode out of the room.

I was halfway up the exit hall before realizing how painful it was to walk in that particular manner, and stumbled a bit, clutching the more painful sting on my leg. Torn gave an almost unintelligible snicker behind me.

"Shut up, Torn," I muttered, and left the room with whatever dignity I still had intact.

The front door of my house creaked open suddenly. The hand that had been running through my still-short hair froze. I whirled around, fearing the worst, and instinctively grabbed for my Eco pistol, which sat on the staircase to my far right, much to my dismay. In the doorway stood a Krimzon Guard, looking up at me with his gold eyes.

I heaved a sigh of relief, placing my hand over my chest to make sure my heart had started beating again. "Precursors, Lex, you scared the daylights out of me!"

He cocked his head and gave me a curious look. "Who did you think I was?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said, still trying to get my blood moving through my body again. "Some KG that had come to arrest me. Or worse, Erol."

Cocking his eyebrow this time, he gave me a sinister look. "How do you know I'm not? I could very well be Erol or just another KG."

I wanted to point out that I could tell the difference just thanks to that last sentence, but I decided to go along with his joke. "You're right," I said, feigning horror. "Tell me something only Lex would know."

"I know that when we used to play with the model Hellcats in Haven Forest," he began, and I was already giggling. "Your codename was 'Spicy Turtle'."

I began laughing hysterically. Somewhere in the middle I managed to ground out, "You got me there, Doom Turtle," but I didn't think he had heard it. Lex laughed nonetheless before turning to go about his own business in the kitchen.

"So, what's up with Erol these days?" I tried to ground out between subsiding laughs. The words left my mouth in a fairly indecipherable manner, and Lex turned to shoot me a quizzical look.

I mumbled a curt apology and cleared my throat before attempting the words again. "Any word on Erol lately?"

"Oh, same as usual. Enforcing unjust laws, wreaking havoc in the Fortress, spending time with his best friend the Baron…."

"Is he still after me?" I asked. The close call from the Stadium had been so long ago, yet I could still picture it in my head as vividly as if I were living the moment. That day seemed to be engraved in my sub-cranium."

"Oh, I don't think so," he reassured me. It wasn't a very significant worry anymore, but it was always nice to know if Erol had assembled a team to tear the city apart looking for me. "It wouldn't surprise me if he doesn't even remember you're his sister."

"Oh, well then," I said. "Any news of consequence I can pass on to the Underground?" Lex had been so enthusiastic when I told him about joining the rebellion that he now considered himself a spy, no matter how indirect. He wasn't a real undercover agent, but I didn't have the heart to tell him that. So I allowed him to give me information about the KG to inform Torn about if anything of interest arose. Plus, it made him feel a bit better about not quitting the KG along with me. But it was no question that we would have Erol surveying us every living second if he did. So being a partial spy was much safer. A win-win for everyone.

"Nah," he said. "But you know that ammo hold in the Fortress?" he asked. I nodded; Torn had been trying to coax someone into going in to dispose of the dangerous store of ammunition hidden in the Fortress that would prove very perilous to the Underground if the KG were to avail themselves of it and their state-of-the-art gunships.

"Erol's had one of those new tanks put in the entrance just so that no one can get to the storage room. There are lots of sentries around there, too, but the room itself is actually free of patrollers. In case that's important."

I was reasonably certain my mouth was wide open in astonishment. Those thoughts were confirmed by Lex's amused expression.

"Of course that's important!" I exclaimed. In fact, Torn had been pushing me to go take care of that as of late. Perhaps giving him information like that would get him in my favour and I would be off the hook. "I'll have to pass that on, if you don't mind."

"Whatever floats your boat," he replied. It was my turn to give him an inquisitive look. Whilst his speech wasn't as obstructed by slang as when he was sixteen, he still had a tendency to use odd phrases that I could not comprehend.

He sighed. "Yes. I don't mind. You hungry?"

"Yeah," I answered, and my stomach groaned in assent. "Why?"

"I was going to get something to eat, and I wondered if you wanted some too," he answered uncertainly.

"You're going to cook?" I gasped mockingly.

He shot me an irritated expression. "This may surprise you, but I am physically capable of cooking a meal."

"Just not a good one," I reminded him.

"Like your cooking is any better."

I lost my smooth rhythm. "Fine. But don't go for anything fancy. Stick to something like stir-fry. I'll cut up some veggies," I offered.

"With all your knife-wielding talent?" Lex mumbled. It was still hard for him to believe that they had let someone like me into the rebellion at age fourteen. And claiming it was because of skill had only brought on another round of mocking laughter.

I was sure he had been speaking to himself, but he often forgot that I had unnaturally amplified hearing. "Quiet, KG. And you know I prefer a gun, anyway. Which is why I'm going to own at team tag tomorrow."

That wasn't necessarily true. My aim and skill with the Eco pistol had improved through practice, but I was still a long way from being a meticulous gunner. And if Maven and Keele were on the opposite team, I would have my work cut out for me.

"Tell me this: how do you plan to chop vegetables with a blaster?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes and continued my search for edible legumes.

After a modest dinner, I made my way back to the Underground, taking advantage of the extra time to do a speed lap around the city. I had to be cautious not to arise suspicion from the KG, but I tried to push the limit whenever I could. Racing was the only thing that was still mine, that I was still the best at. I had never gone to a Class One, but that was strategy: if I were to be in that race, I would surely meet Erol. No one had taken his title of Grand Champion from him yet, and whilst I was confident I could, it would be too risky.

Plus, there were many new racers that had emerged in the last few years, and they would provide quite a challenge. Maven, who would be at team tag the next day, had taken an interest to racing, and was quite good. But since I was his team's best racer, it was never an issue.

There was also a girl with blue hair who worked as a mechanic and driver for her team. No one knew where she had come from, but no one was brave enough to ask her, either. She just locked herself away in the garage all day, emerged for races, and then went back to work on Precursors know what.

As late as it was, I decided Torn wouldn't be mad if I came in later than expected – quite the opposite, probably. People were running some practise laps at the stadium, so I parked the one-seated zoomer and took a seat in the stands. I was one of the few people there, amongst trainers, team leaders and other citizens like me with nothing better to do.

There were five racers on the track. I didn't recognize any of the names or pictures on the standings board, so I just leaned back and zoned out, shut down my consciousness for a few seconds, letting the only things that registered be the sounds of the vehicles tearing up the track as they prepared for the upcoming Class Three heats.

It didn't matter; if I was in the same heat as them, I would be the winner, no competition.

With an exasperated sigh, one that I could not place in the midst of all my emotion, I pulled myself out of the racing stands and took the zoomer back to the Hideout.

Torn was still leaning over his cluttered desk when I arrived. Someone else was with him this time, though.

"Tess!" I acknowledged, cheery despite my lethargy. I hadn't seen my blond friend in a long time.

"Hey," she waved, but she seemed quieter than usual, more tired. Then again, it was near midnight….

"What's up?" I asked.

Neither Tess nor Torn seemed very inclined to tell me much. "Just some issues. Nothing big," Tess promised.

"Okay," I said, making the word long and uncertain.

"Hey, Tess," Torn exclaimed. Once he had her attention again, he jerked a hand toward the door.

She nodded. "We've got some stuff to take care of. Be back soon," she promised, as if they were the parents and me the child.

"Sure," I replied. I wanted to ask more questions, but thought it best for everyone not to.

"Wait, Torn?" I called, recalling the information Lex had given me consent to pass on. "I've got some info, if you're interested. You know that ammo dump you've been monitoring?"

"Yeah."

"They've installed a lot more security around there, but I've heard that the room with the supplies is actually patrol-free."

"Hum," he mused. "Good to know. Thanks." He didn't question my source. He never bothered.

Tess and Torn then left through the narrow exit hall, leaving me alone in the main room.

Deciding to occupy myself a few minutes longer, I dug out some bandages from the crates stacked around the room. Then, as I was wrapping them about the Flanker sting marks, I heard voices outside.

Now, the Underground usually had some code of conduct, one of the higher-priority rules being, "Don't spy on other agents." Especially not Torn or Tess, but that went without saying. Nevertheless, I played up my rule-breaker side and slid over to the bunk nearest the entry. My ears could hear every word through the sliding stone barrier.

"We're looking for a guy named Torn," someone announced. The voice was deep and rough but not one I could place. It was also quite muted, so I moved closer to the door, inching up the hallway until I was next to the rock wall. "Kor sent us. Um…" he hesitated. "Are you… Torn?"

I laughed inwardly. It was probably Tess and Torn trying to scare of some citizen who wanted to join. It was standard protocol for all new recruits. If a recruit couldn't stand up to Torn's cold and evil expressions, there was no way he could stand up to Metal Heads, KG, the Baron.

"Maybe this guy's a mute, like you used to be." The second voice was much higher in tone, much lighter in attitude, almost joking. That voice was familiar, but still not one I could pinpoint. It was as if I had conjured it up in a dream, years ago. And that quote about being mute? Something was gnawing at the back of my brain, but I switched my focus back to the conversation.

"New faces make me nervous," Torn informed darkly. "Word is you're out to join the fight for the city. You know, picking the wrong side could be... unhealthy."

"We want to see the Shadow," the first voice, the low one, said. The Shadow was a short, green gentleman who organized the entire Underground movement. He was supposedly a master with Green Eco, but the only part of him that pledged for that was his skin tone, an odd light pea green.

Torn let out a dark, mocking chuckle. "Not likely. If you and your pet want to join something, why don't you go join the circus?" Why had he used the word 'pet'? Something felt off.

"Unless you've got the fur for a really tough task," he continued. "Steal the Baron's banner from the top of the Ruined Tower and bring it back to me. Then, maybe we'll talk."

It took every ounce of self-control not to laugh. Climb the Ruined Tower in Dead Town? That was impossible! Not only would they be facing some little monsters, but the Tower crumbled under one's feet every time! I wanted to go out to Dead Town to see how they did it, but acknowledged that it would be unwise.

I heard movement outside and realized the conversation was over. I quickly and stealthily hopped back to the bed and pretended to tie up the last knot on the bandage.

Only Tess entered. "Where's Torn?" I inquired.

"Oh, out to do some recon, I expect," Tess answered.

"No," I began sarcastically. "Torn? They same Torn that sits behind his desk every day, planning suicidal missions for other poor agents to go out on while he stays back here? That Torn?"

"That's not very nice," Tess scolded, frowning. I was too tired to care.

"But true," I informed her.

"He works a lot, more than you or I could ever know!" she announced. Tess and Torn had grown up together, in the Slums like me. But they lived in the water Slums, and since I didn't especially enjoy swimming, I had never thought of going there much as a child. So, as good childhood friends, it was natural that they would defend each other.

"Okay, okay, sorry," I muttered, though I really wasn't. Torn had the nerve to send his recruits out on missions that they might not return from all the time, while he sat at his desk, planning procedures and making up other assignments. "I'm going to sleep. 'Night."

She nodded in recognition, but it was clear that she was mad at me. So, without further ado, I moved to the back room and found an empty apartment with two double bunks. I barely had time or cause to remove my boots and utility belt before I burrowed into the blankets and fell asleep.

I was woken in the morning by the sound of shuffling feet outside my temporary cabin. Rolling over and falling asleep again sounded so great right about then, but I knew I would have to be at the gun course soon anyway.

I sat up immediately, taking only a second to stretch. Then I stood, quickly tied up my ugly black boots and holstered the eco pistol tucked under the bed. Now that I was in the Underground, I wasn't permitted to be slow or tired anymore. I had to have my head in the game, be its top player every living second. Because if I wasn't in the game, I was out of the world. For good.

It was approximating eight o'clock – judging purely by the sky, of course – when I arrived at the gun course via zoomer the following morning. I had changed into more suitable clothes for team tag and was fumbling with a pair of red goggles as I entered the front apartment, thinking they would stay on my head if I worked with them long enough. But the fight of trying to employ them to keep the fringe out of my eyes seemed futile and pointless. There was no way it would serve as both a headband and night vision device, so I allowed the orange bangs to fall over my face.

Naturally, the goggles remained perfectly perched after that.

Suppressing a couple colourful and gratuitous curses that wished to surface, I greeted the other agents.

Tess, whom I had discovered to be an expert gun-manufacturer, was chatting with a few other agents. She turned from her comrades and beckoned me over upon spotting me in the entrance.

"Hey, Shae!" It was clear she found her rhyme amusing. She appeared to have forgotten all about our dispute the previous night.

"Hey, Tess," I greeted in return, though not as brightly as her. It was too early for that kind of tone from me.

"We were just getting into teams. I opted to put you on my team. It's a four-on-four, so I think we're with Maven and Ty."

"Great!" I said. Maven was an awesome sniper, and Ty was an old childhood friend from the Slums. He was the same age as Lex, and his sister, Amelle, was two years older. I spotted the tall, dark-haired siblings by another display of guns, separate from the larger group. I hadn't thought them to be unsociable, but it had been years since I had seen them before joining the Underground. Besides, Amelle had always been "the quiet one."

In a way, I was disappointed that their attitudes were so different from when we were kids. Everyone in my family, including myself, had changed so significantly that it hardly felt like we were the same people, that it was the same tie between us, that it was the same ground beneath our feet. And when I had discovered Amelle and Ty, the only frequents from my childhood, had changed too, it was like the ground and sky fell all over again.

"Who's on the other team?" I inquired, though I already knew the answer.

"Keele, Deron, Zededora and Amelle."

"So we're doing two guys, two girls?"

"Yep!"

"Alright," I said. I put on my game face and slid the aggravating goggles over my eyes. "Let's own these suckers."

Tess laughed, then grabbed my arm to pull me over to the bigger group, not bothering to alert Ty and Amelle. They both looked over with dark, reserved eyes, but I saw Ty quirk a half-smile. They followed Tess and me over to the assembly.

"Something wrong with your arm, kid?" Zededora remarked as I came over, light brown eyes curious. As the youngest member, most other agents had adopted the nickname "kid" for me. It got on my nerves, but I would have to live with it. The name had been assigned two years ago, and even at age sixteen, it stuck.

"Flanker sting, Dora," I replied. I was able to conceal the two on my legs by donning a pair of long pants over the hasty bandage work, but the sting on my forearm was still visible, if not only from the protruding bump under the gauntlets on my arms. "Torn thought it would be a good idea to hang out in the forest after sunset."

"Fair enough," she sighed.

"Can you shoot with that?" Keele asked.

"No problem," I told him. Keele was Maven's best friend and our second best gunner. He was going to be a tough competitor. Then again, Zededora and Deron were both better than me. Amelle, although six years older, was the only even match for me.

It was of no consequence, though. This was considered training, and it was the most fun I had on a usual day. It beat hanging out in a tree for hours by an immeasurable long shot.

"Okay, guys," Maven began, clapping his hands together. He looked about twenty-five and had long, blond hair. His eyes were a light blue, but like mine, were concealed by goggles. Upon further examination, I noted that everyone had a night-sight gadget of some sort, either goggles, binoculars or the cutting-edge contact lenses (Maven and Keele were the only two with those). It appeared we would be playing a night match

He opened his mouth to speak, but then faltered and reconsidered. "I don't really need to explain the game to you guys, right?"

"Not really," several people piped up. We were all consistent players.

"Good. Everyone got their weapon cleared?"

Most people held up their guns and nodded in response, but I had to request a check, along with Amelle and Ty. Clearing the weapons was just a standard security procedure. No one liked it, but most acted indifferent towards the gun checks. It was just to ensure that everyone was using the green tag mod, not a real shooting one. The tag mod fired a laser blast that was a harmless blend of Green and Yellow Eco. It couldn't do any damage, but did make your opponent falter.

One could also measure how many shots each person had taken by monitoring the consumption of Eco, and how many shots had been fired by how many were left in the gun. The total scores were derived from both of those factors.

While my weapon was being checked, I flicked my glance over to the other guns in the room. Most were Eco pistols and blasters, but Maven and Keele both had morph guns, that could adapt to any Eco mod with the flick of a button. The rest of us had to switch the canisters manually, a rather laborious process that took too long in a real battle. Everything was the same in the gun course, but outside, the odds of winning battles with KG and Metal Heads were decidedly in one's favour if one possessed a morph gun.

"Okay," Maven began again. He was the Underground's best gunner, and most practiced in the gun course, so it was obvious that he would be the one to instruct. "We're doing standard team tag training, in night setting. Obstacles are already set up; event timer is thirty minutes; no head shots; blah, blah, blah."

He gave us all a look that I could only interpret as pleading. "Look, can we just get to the game? You all know the procedures."

We all nodded and gave varied responses.

"Alright. Thirty second getaway?" Keele asked.

"Yeah. Get into positions," Maven ordered.

Our team lined up by the north entrance; the other team by the west. The doors opened ahead of us, revealing dark settings. My eyesight still had to adapt, but I could distinguish the outlines of the obstacles that would serve as shelters during the game.

"Thirty seconds," Keele called, and we took off into the darkness, a steady beeping counting off the seconds.

Ty and I found a good spot in the middle of the circuit. We would have a good position to advance from, hopefully without being seen too soon. Maven took the front line, and Tess set up a sniping position around the first corner.

Ty crouched behind a large wall-like obstacle. "Ready?" he whispered. He was hard to perceive in the darkness, his dark skin and hair amalgamating with the lack of lighting in the chamber. If it weren't for the goggles, I wouldn't have been able to see him at all.

I cocked my Eco pistol as the beeping accelerated and abruptly ceased, signifying the end of the allotted time. "Game on."

Review are encouraged and asked for. Other than that, peace out!

~Fishyicon / Genesis Turtle (yes, I have one of those nicknames too)