Jak and Daxter: Legacy

Chapter 18: Despairing for Hope

Jak had three goals:

One, stop dangling upside down.

Two, find a way to get the dark eco still frothing in his left hand to snap out.

Three, make it up to Sig for the fact that they'd likely get vaporized within the next ten seconds.

Given that the mouth of the giant mech staring in red rage at them had already gathered a near blinding amount of purple and black energy, he was certain he'd achieve none of the above.

The whole lab darkened with a power surge. Dead silence screamed into their ears between the thundering of their own heartbeats. Jak, hanging from his ankle caught in Sig's hand, Sig himself, and Daxter holding on for dear life to Jak's hair, waited as the eco in the mech's mouth surged, died, then flickered like violet embers.

This went on for another minute by the time Sig and Jak finally glanced at each other, sharing the same exact hesitant question without a word: was it over?

Energy blasted forward just beneath Daxter's back paws, mere feet from Jak's head. The purple ray swept from one side of the lab to the other, tearing apart walls, devices, and the floor in a jagged line that, instead of causing loud explosions like one would expect, disintegrated whatever laid in its path entirely without a single hush of sound.

The mech then screeched a metallic, synthetic roar so loud it made Jak's heart thrum and vibrated against every bone in his body. It tore at the grappling hook on its chest, ripped their rope off, and tossed them as far as it could throw them, sending them and the rope still in Sig's hand flying over the rift it had just created, and far beyond.

With quick thinking, Sig grabbed Jak and Daxter midair with one arm, then braced for impact with his cyborg one. They collided with the back wall near the lab's entrance. Sig grabbed onto a panel with a sparking, metal against metal death grip, then lowered them gently to the ground using what was left of the rope.

The mech took one lumbering step forward, the direction of which Jak could feel by the way it struck the floor with such weight that he nearly bounced. Then another booming step. Cables snapped and metal shrieked as it pulled away from its harnesses on the wall, and as the last one gave out, it stumbled forward on its heavy upper limbs like a primate walking on its knuckles.

Something good happened. The dark eco in Jak's left hand snuffed out. Then something horrific followed. Jak only noticed it when he heard its rushing. A coolness soaked into his boots. Water.

The sea outside the ruin was leaking in.

Sig pulled them behind a row of devices, hidden from the mech's view.

"I need you to sit down, shut up, and do exactly as I say," he snapped in a whisper.

Jak winced. Sig's green eye had lost its warmth, now narrowed, sharp, and cold. For a moment, he wondered if Sig regretted saying that he was someone to be proud of earlier, and unable to bear the guilt that stare drilled into him, Jak looked away. The mech was lumbering about, thankfully focused on searching rather than destroying, red eyes now sending out spotlights of crimson over the shadowed remains of the lab.

"We need to remove the power core. That'll take this thing down quick. But to do that, we need to get Peace Maker, then get up close. Stay out of its eyesight, follow my lead, and we can still get out of this with our lives and a paycheck."

"But the water-"

"We'll be out of here in plenty of time before it becomes an issue. Move out."

"Wait-!"

Sig was already hunch-running to the next cluster of devices to hide behind. Jak wobbled forward on jelly legs, eco wound searing, Daxter clinging to his back with a needle-claw grip. Just as they almost reached the next hiding spot, the searchlight of the mech's eyes beamed their direction.

They both pressed as hard as they could against machinery in plain view. Jak didn't dare budge a muscle, a breath, or even a shift of a glance as the red light seared down on them, making him sweat from its heat even at this distance. The light shuddered with a robotic blink like a garage door slamming shut, remained on them for a few seconds longer, then swept away.

This cat and kangarat game continued for many minutes; Sig, Jak, and Daxter zigzagging from one device cluster to another, avoiding the mech's attention. They reached the middle where it had first used its beam. An inky scar of abyss had taken the place of the metal floor, water trickling over the edges into its maw, leaving an unnerving gap between them and the other side. Sig's Peace Maker waited across, shining in the water where it had once leaned against the mech's leg and - thankfully - hadn't been crushed by its foot.

"Damn it," Sig spat. He glanced down to the crossbow on his belt, its ripped end of rope, then at Jak. "Blue eco. I'll wait here."

Jak shook his head. His experience with blue eco so far had been two accidents, and one of said accidents had gotten them into this mess. And if blue eco worked like green, no one carried an endless supply of it. It took time to build back. How long would it be before his reserves ran out?

Nevertheless, with the mech's searchlight gaze a constant blade of red swaying in the corner of his eye, and Sig giving him an encouraging nod, he took a deep breath and turned to the rift.

The vibrating hum of energy tickled his trembling palm. He stole looks at the mech as he let the eco grow, then at the chasm before him, his eyes so wide they ached. If he slipped up, the abyss would eat him. Or the mech could catch him in the exposed stretch. Jak glanced at Daxter on his shoulder, gave him a look of apology, then readied every tense fiber of his body.

Weightlessness gripped his gut as he and Daxter rose. He pushed off with one foot against the rift's clean cut edge and lunged over, somersaulting midair, parting clouds of eviscerated material - the remains of the floor gone beneath them - its dust gleaming in the dim light of the blue eco that crackled out from him. The sweep of red eyelight followed so close behind that Jak's boots grew hot.

His eco shuddered.

Jak regained control after a short plummet, but waited inside the rift, lifting out as soon as the eyelight passed over them. He reached the other side and splashed to a graceless crash in the water. Jak remained with his back on the floor, breathless as the mech stared their way again, pinning them perfectly in the center of its red circle gaze.

His heart roared in thumps. Sweat beaded down his temples. The light began to burn a duochrome blind spot in his peripheral vision as if he'd gazed at a sun too long, making his eyes water.

Jak and Daxter both sighed in quiet relief when the mech stared in a different direction again. Peace Maker bit cold and wet under his fingers as he grabbed it from the floor, and with great effort, he managed to heft it up.

The chasm yawned before them again. Jak had two choices: send Peace Maker over first, then himself and Daxter, or send them all over in one go. For Yasu and Roru, it would have been as easy as snapping their fingers. Jak stared at the weapon in his hands, then nodded. Without it, there was no hope of taking the mech down. He had to at least try.

As he levitated it up, he realized he had no idea what he was doing, never having lifted anything besides his own body before. Sig gawked in slack-jawed horror as Jak sent Peace Maker slowly, slowly up by itself, then glared at Jak before Jak started to push it over the chasm.

Don't you dare drop my baby, is what his look said.

Jak returned a painful smile that wouldn't have even convinced a child; a reply of, I'll try not to?

More sweat dripped down his neck as he concentrated, glancing over at the mech every few seconds. The weapon floated over like a rock through water, sluggish, stopping at times, Jak begging under his breath for - if the Precursors would be so kind - the damned thing to get going. Sig reached up, but it kept bobbing out of his reach.

Then the red light struck Jak again. He froze. The mech raised its arm, churning a wave of water as it lifted it from the floor, and violet energy circled and hissed and gathered in its palm.

Which was pointed right at Jak.

Without thinking, Jak burst towards the chasm and leaped as high as he could into the air, maintaining as much concentration on levitating two things at once - himself with Daxter and Peace Maker - all the while.

Jak caught himself on the gun with one hand, hung on with all his strength, swung back and forth, then catapulted forward, giving himself as much of a boost as he could with what little eco he had left.

He made it to the other side. Just as Jak turned around to pull Peace Maker towards them, a ray of dark eco energy cleaved into it, disintegrating it in a single flash.

Sig and Jak stumbled into a run as blast after blast from the mech's arm cannon followed them, water hissing into mist and floor dissipating just behind their heels.

"Plan!?" was all Jak could manage to blurt as they scrambled across the lab.

"The plan!?" Sig yanked him by the collar just as another dark eco ray sailed by, saving Jak's life the second time that day. "'Til one of us pulls another Peace Maker out of our ass, there is no plan!"

"What were you planning to use it for, anyway?"

"The yellow eco beam. The one that split the panel that blocked the door here."

They ducked under another blast.

Sig continued, "Could've carved the metal around the core clean out and killed the mech quick. But someone had to go and get creative, didn't he?"

"I'll buy you another one! Just-"

Another ray of death. Another desperate duck.

"What if we take the core out directly?"

"Directly? That core will never pop loose if it's activated. We'd need to drain its power, first."

The mech runs on dark eco. If we took it out, the core would have nothing to use, Jak thought.

But how did one take dark eco out of something? If he'd known that, he wouldn't have even come to Haven in the first place. As far as he knew, only an empty eco crystal could take eco in.

Or someone.

It was stupid, but given that he'd be dead without the money from the core to pay off Gol and Maia, it was just as stupid not to try.

Jak ripped Daxter off of his shoulder and shoved him into Sig's arms.

"Wait, what in the- what are you doing!? Kid, get back here!"

Water spraying behind his feet, he vaulted over Precursor devices through glitching screens, slid under ray after ray of dark eco from the mech, and raced headfirst towards it, shooting with his typical poor aim at its red eyes with his pistol. He managed to split a few cracks in its glass lenses, the bullets twining yellow as they hit, and eco poured out like glowing blood. The mech screeched and reeled back, allowing a blessed break in its assault.

It wasn't until Jak neared that he realized he had no way to climb it. Out of blue eco. No grappling crossbow. But there were still tubes attached to its back, some trailing in the water that was now calf-deep.

He dove between its ankles and, dodging the crushing plate of its foot, grasped one of the tubes. Jak climbed up its back like he had at home on jungle vines, swinging from one to another, and in gaps where there weren't enough, he took his dagger and stabbed it into the mech's back for a temporary handhold, just as he had in the soil of the Mistarch. As he got to its shoulder, a hand swung up and cast its shadow over him.

He hurled himself off, dagger gleaming in hand.

Metal thundered against metal. The mech lifted its palm from where Jak had been standing, glanced around, then screeched again when it realized that Jak was hanging from its cheek, dagger sunk in and holding on by a single hand.

Jak dodged another swat by rushing to the pipes beside its nose, then readied himself to slide down to its core, hardly believing he was still here to even consider such a move.

Then came weightlessness.

A black metal finger clutched his waist and held him aloft like an ant before the two dying, bleeding suns that were its eyes. In that moment, when everything shone and felt scarlet and blinding, as the dust of destruction settled in his lungs like burning snow, and as his gaze trailed over the core seeping with dark eco at the mech's heart, seemingly farther out of reach than it had ever been, his fear of death withered to sympathy.

"Don't worry. It won't know better. It's just a weapon, after all."

The mech howled right into his face, and within its mouth churned the telltale glow of purple, from which globules of it sprayed in its roar. Jak's ears rang painfully. After a few futile attempts to wrestle free, he let his body go limp. So this was it. His end would be brought on by dark eco, just as he'd thought.

Another crack split the mech's eye. Then another. Yellow bullets lashed into the lenses, breaking away at them chip by chip, until - with an ear-splitting shudder - the eyes broke completely, all of their red eco contents pouring out in a wave. As the mech careened back and let Jak go, he went flying nearly straight upwards.

Falling fast, screeching in terror, the now black-eyed mech looming closer second by second, Jak prepared to greet solid floor and bone shattering death. He did meet metal, but it was the swinging arm of the mech as it flailed and shot out rays blindly. He grabbed into a groove between two metal panels and held on for life, wind whipping against him as the arm swayed. One moment, he was near the lab's ceiling, the next, soaring downwards in an arc, fingers burning as they struggled to hold on.

As soon as he saw the gleam of water on the floor, he let go. He crashed into it like a comet, his body sending broken bits of lab equipment flying, some of it tearing cuts in his skin. But the ache of the fall was nothing compared to the relief of Daxter suddenly at his side, and Sig not far behind, loading another cartridge into his pistol.

The look in Daxter's eyes carried many things: his own relief, anger, fear. All Jak did was shake his head, totter to his feet again, pull out his dagger, and half stumble, half run to the mech once more, even as ottsel teeth tried to snap at his leg straps.

This time, he climbed up the mech's front with shaking, bleeding arms, his dagger allowing him purchase. When he got to its heart, he pulled out his sword, clicked the button to extend its blade, and stabbed it right into the space beneath the core in a sparking strike.

Feet balancing on the sword's dull side, Jak reached his hands into the gaps between the core and the round frame holding it. Dark eco frothed and swallowed his arms, but to his surprise, it didn't hurt like it had back in the Legacy ruin. He did, however, sense the dark eco in his own chest react. It flamed to life, sending the familiar trails of burning down his veins to his extremities, but this time it was if it didn't burn enough. Instead of fearing this moment as he had in the minutes leading up to it, Jak readily accepted it as he channeled eco.

Not outwards, but inwards, heart to heart.

The world shifted from vertical to horizontal. The mech toppled backwards, its body sending up a wave of water as it struck the ground. And Jak was left standing at the core, his whole frame on fire with new, radiating dark eco, every tendon molten, and every breath a scalding steam. Even his spit tasted of it. Of despair, akin to the air of the Wasteland over Haven's walls at night, metallic, bitter, and sour, unable to tolerate life as it numbed his aching tongue.

But here he was. Alive. Not disintegrating. Jak tightened his fist to reassure himself of this fact. The prickle of fingernails into palm did so. Then he raised the same hand and stared at its form being enveloped but not destroyed by the violet energy.

The dark eco receded in a wave of nerve splitting ice, the absence of its hellfire making everything else suddenly cold. It snaked back from his extremities through his limbs, then curled up in his chest again, tired, its meal done.

Alive, he thought again. He'd channeled dark eco into his body once more and lived. True, when he shivered and peeked down at his wound beneath his shirt, it had grown twice the size it'd been before, but in the face of all he'd just survived, and the mech's core shining intact and perfect for sale by his feet, even a misery like that became a miracle.

A cyborg hand grasped the round metal hunk and slid it back across the dark table. "There's no way you're gettin' this core for anything less than thirty-thousand. And that's still a steal, Vin."

Jak, Daxter, and Sig were in a different laboratory now. Tubes and wires wound around the ceiling in a tangled canopy. Devices of every style - Precursor, black and sleek steel human, and eco crystal-laden and blue-toned metal Shurn tech - glimmered in various states of dismantlement and repair atop many tables like the one before them. Machinery flickered with framed screens across the walls, button-laden panels beneath.

One wall was spared metallic gleam; a wide window overlooking Haven Port, where the sea churned at copper docks, and sailors and merchants left their ships bobbing in it - or in the air - to find bars and brothels further into the city, the descending night's potential pleasures a siren song.

Then there were the wrappers. 'Wumpbee Honeybits', they read, carelessly tossed about the desk before them, whisked by the nervous fidgeting of the lab director's hands.

Vin - said director - stood on the other side of the desk. His hair shone a near-white shade of blue and stuck out and up from a leather cap like he'd stuck his finger in a live light socket, and his eyes were covered with opaque welding goggles. He pulled and unwrapped a round, golden candy from his white coat's pocket, popped it into his mouth, then stuffed the wrapper back into that same pocket. And as he shook his head, candy making knocks against his teeth, and he began to pace back and forth, that same wrapper fell to the floor.

As did another.

And another.

"Look, Sig, I-I appreciate all you've done for me. Trust me, that's the reason I send you over anyone else out to find important artifacts. But we're running a tight budget here. Mr. Blott doesn't have much to spare for things like these."

Sig crossed his arms. "Mechs that could take out legions of Metal Heads sound like a pretty good investment to me."

Vin raised and shook his hands - palms out - before himself. "N-n-no! Don't get me wrong! This is important. But we've got so many projects going on right now. For ourselves, for the Baron…"

"Thirty-thousand is nothin' compared to what you used to pay me. What's sapping so much money that thirty suddenly sounds expensive?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why not? Your company's gotten a lot more hush hush about things lately, and I don't like bein' stuck in the dark about-"

"T-top... secret!"

When Sig and Jak both recoiled, Vin rubbed his forehead and sighed. "Sig, let's go to my office. A-alone. We can work out the details in private."

What he really meant to say was, "I don't trust this new fella with you". Sig gave Jak a nod, then followed Vin towards a door in the corner. They disappeared behind the door and Jak and Daxter were left alone in the lab.

Jak didn't mind, in all honesty. After their escapade in the ruin, his taking on of more dark eco, and their trek back to the city, Jak could have curled up on the freezing floor and collapsed for days. Instead, he leaned against the desk and closed his eyes. The tugging of sleep at his eyelids and entertaining its offer had to suffice for now.

"You okay, Bigfoot?" Daxter whispered from his shoulder.

"Yeah," Jak answered in a dour tone.

"Y'sure?"

No, he wasn't fine. They'd gotten the core and out of the ruin with their lives, but his dark eco wound had doubled in size from half his palm to a whole handspan in width. But what other option had he had? Let the mech kill them? Drown in the flooding ruin? Leave alive but without one of the few things that could get him the money he needed for his cure?

He had gambled time for that money.

"So the core just knocked loose when ya pulled on it?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Did it hurt ya?"

"Dax, I'm fine."

"Jak," Daxter leaped from his shoulder to a table in front of him, then crossed his arms and raised a brow. "I saw where that dark eco went. That was pretty risky, ya know?"

Jak grimaced. Caught in another lie. "I know."

"Did it do anything to your wound?"

He turned around and dug at the corner of the desk with his boot, his own arms crossing, more to soothe himself than anything.

"Ya need to be more careful, kid. I get the money part, but we should play it safe. Which I know is unheard of for ya, trust me, but between the Mistarch and now the mech, you're takin' a lot of risks and our luck might just run out one of these days, 'cause…"

Jak sighed and tuned Daxter out as he continued chastising. He didn't need this. This lecturing. The being told he'd made a wrong decision. He'd doubled his wound's size, probably had lost Sig's respect, and nearly died. Wasn't that enough to deal with?

"Look, can we just not talk about today?"

Daxter startled.

"I'll do what I need to to get this thing healed. Whatever it takes." Jak raised his stare from the floor to the suns setting outside, dying, blinding. "It was the only choice I had."

Finally, the ottsel was silent. Jak tucked his chin to his chest and lost himself in the beat of his own heart, glad to hear it. He was still alive now. That's all that mattered. He just needed to get through this day, and the next, and then another, one step at a time.

It wasn't until a scrabbling and button-tapping ensued that he lifted his head again, then twisted around to find Daxter at one of the machines on the wall. As Daxter maneuvered from one end of the panel to the other, pressing things along the way with trained ease, new images appeared on the screens above.

Jak glanced at the door where Sig and Vin had disappeared. Still closed. He hissed, "What are you doing?"

"Pfft, bein' dumb and reckless. I thought we'd switch roles for a minute." Daxter typed in something, then slammed down a bigger button to the right and looked up at the screen. A toothy grin appeared. "This looks interestin'. Get a load of this, Bigfoot. All of Hagai's current projects."

He selected one from the list. A blueprint popped up with some text beside it. On it glowed the cerulean outline of what looked to be a prosthetic leg from the knee down.

"Extraction Boots? What a boring name. C'mon, ya think with all the money they pump into these projects, they'd hire a better marketing department." Daxter propped his chin on his paw and read the screen, head cocked sideways in an unamused tilt. "So environmentally unfriendly, too. Takes eco from whatever ya step on, connects through implants for the host to channel the eco and blah, blah, blah… next!"

"Dax, get down from there," Jak spat as quietly as he could, glancing at Vin's door again.

The ottsel dodged Jak's reach for his scruff, then pressed a different button, bringing up another project down the list.

"Ooo, how spectacular! The HI Alpha 89." Daxter raised his chest and put a paw to it as if he were an actor on a stage, voice deepening. "Why, this cannon may be the same design we've had for three hundred years, but we swear, with this new coat of paint, it'll blow up poor innocents on your way to world domination with even more gore for your buck! Boring. Seen it. Where's the real juice in this fruit?"

He fended off another swat from Jak.

"Hmm, DWP, not sure what that is. Password locked, too. Moving on. Eco stabilizer ring implant, gunships, rifles, and… a golf club? What the hell kind of a weapon is that? That ain't gonna do nothin'-"

The office door's handle started to turn. Daxter slammed a button that read 'exit' and the screen - to Jak's deepest relief - returned to the blank state it was before Vin and Sig had left. Four paws found Jak's shoulder. Daxter's eyes were now wide and shining while he looked innocently about the lab, as if he were pondering over whether or not he could reach one of the wires above to play with.

Sig walked out with a smug quirk to his grin. He caught Jak's worried stare, nodded, and mouthed, 'payday '.

"Now, I need to make a trip into the Wasteland to find parts for a replacement Peace Maker, so I'll be gone for a while. But my good friend Jak here-" Sig slapped a hand on Jak's pauldron and gave him a hearty shake. "-will be able to retrieve the other artifacts we agreed on. And remember: ten thousand each, to be paid the moment he gets them to you, when he can get them to you. He's the only reason we got this core today and lived to tell the tale, and the only man who can get the other artifacts."

What is he talking about? Jak wondered. Other artifacts?

"Don't remind me."

Vin sighed. He ruffled in his pocket - more wrappers flying out - and pulled forth a rolled paper. He unraveled it on the table, grabbed a feather pen from an inkwell nearby, and started scribbling on it. Waving it to dry after he finished, he gave it one long last look, nodded, and handed it to Sig.

"Thanks. Jak," Sig turned to him. "I'll take this to the bank and meet up with you here after. You go with Vin. He'll fill you in on the details about what we discussed."

Hagai Industries was, in the best way a tribal boy like Jak could describe it, frightening in its size. Lab after lab stuffed with projects veiled in shadow stretched beside the jade floor tiled and gold wallpapered halls. Eco lamps sputtered from the ceilings, providing daubs of greasy light that cut through the cold darkness of the building, if only slightly.

They came to the main entrance room decked in oily-sheened wood and more wallpaper, this time with plants painted on it. A lady dressed in fine silks that matched the floor greeted Vin, gave Jak and Daxter behind him a perplexed look, then returned to her duties behind the front desk.

On both sides of her sat two doors. Vin opened one to a small room with a mirror and wooden bench, then gestured for Jak to go in. Vin pulled a lever with a strained heft. Steam hissed beyond the thin walls, and the room itself started to rise. Jak backed into the wall and clutched onto its carvings for dear life. Was this a trick? A death trap? A cage?

For the first time that day, Vin smiled and addressed Jak directly, "It's called an ascending room. Same blue eco tech that lets zoomers fly, makes this thing go up and down. It'll take us to Mr. Blott's office."

At that, Jak relaxed.

The ascending room ride lasted for what felt like decades. For as proud as Vin looked about it, it sure rose slowly.

And how much eco is being wasted to power this thing? Jak wondered. Maybe if Haven didn't use so much, they wouldn't have to slaughter thousands for more?

"Also, I-I wanted to thank you. Sig told me all about how dangerous getting that core was. It'll really help us with some of our projects."

Jak glanced up from glaring at the floor - having done so to avoid looking in the mirror - and pinned Vin in a grim, tired stare. "What'll it be used for?"

Vin flinched. The leather of his blue fingerless gloves crunched as he tightened his hands into fists at his sides. His voice, typically wobbly and nervous, steadied with trained and practiced certainty, "Hagai Industries is the premiere developer of defensive technologies. Always has been. Without it, well, even Mar himself couldn't have defeated Kor and his armies. Our founder invented the eco cannons that stopped them, and we've kept Haven safe since. Well, and then we started manufacturing soap recently, so I suppose that's not all we do. Our best-selling is the moonfruit scented line."

Jak looked at Vin's ears, long like his own, then crossed his arms. "Helps keep your hands clean?"

"Uh, well… yes?"

"How about blood stains?"

Vin tensed up from shiny boot to furrowed caterpillar brow. He glanced at Jak's pistol on his hip, at the level indicator on the wall that showed they were still far beneath the top floor, then pulled a little harder on the lever to make it go faster, a nervous chuckle escaping his mouth. "B-blood stains? Yes, it works for that, too. I suppose in your line of work, that's important, right?"

Jak bit his lip. He wanted to say more - to mention a certain town called Glowrend - but reminded himself that Vin was just a worker here, not the one making the decisions. Vin was probably just as much of a cog in the machine as he was.

He was also the reason Jak was getting paid.

"Sig said you're Hagai's top scientist. Did you really make all this stuff?"

Vin lost his nervousness, softening his tense shoulders, then beamed with a scratch behind his head. "Well, I have assistants that help. And a lot of what we make is really based on Precursor designs, so I'm more of a reverse engineer than anything."

He continued to ramble on about different things he'd invented until the ascending room jolted to a stop. Outside waited a hall with gilded chandeliers that glittered with thousands of shards of green eco crystal. Golden silk rugs cushioned Jak's hesitant feet as they crossed the jade stone floors. Rich oil paintings, lacquered wood furniture, Precursor brass clocks, and velvet cushioned artifacts in glass cases lined the walls. There were no doors, only wide archways into different rooms, and even a separate, larger ascending room with no door on it, either.

"Mr. Blott?" Vin called. When no answer came, he shrugged and turned to Jak. "Must have gone home. Well, that's fine. I can show you the diagrams of the other artifacts we need myself. They're probably in his office."

Vin led them to a wall with a large elder cedar tree painted on it. To the left and right wound a hallway each, the one they followed leading to an office. Models of guns gleamed all around, the oldest using eco crystals loaded directly into the top and made of Precursor brass, more akin to a cannon barrel on a staff rather than a rifle, the newest a model just like Jak's own, a yellow eco cartridge glowing above the sight.

But they were only a passing curiosity to Jak, who soon saw the mural behind the central desk. It was just like the ones in Seem's temple in Forgesong, brass tiles in angular shapes forming a scene. Once again, Mar was featured, but at his side was another figure.

"Who is that?" Jak asked.

Vin followed Jak's stare and smiled. "That's Mar and the founder of this place, Samos Hagai."

Jak walked into the desk.

"He's often forgotten in the tales. Little sad, actually," Vin lifted his goggles to his forehead, blue eyes shining as he stared longer at the mural. "I know Mar is the big hero and all, but Samos was with him all the way. They say they actually grew up together as friends in Forgesong."

By the time Jak managed to gather his bearings, Vin was already shuffling through a cabinet drawer, fingers parsing through files.

"Just how many years ago was this?"

"Five hundred, give or take."

A pang of relief soothed Jak's thudding heart. That can't be my Samos, then. Samos told me he was only a little over two hundred. And this guy helped Mar fight the Precursors. It has to be a different one, or a relative, maybe…

Daxter suddenly shifted on Jak's shoulder, wet nose twitching as he sniffed the air. Then he tensed, holding his breath as much as he could, eyes watering.

Jak gave him a confused glance, then looked back at Vin. "So, what happened to Samos after?"

"W-well, you see-"

"He left Haven and died."

Vin stopped mid file-shuffle and slammed the cabinet shut, partially on his own fingers. Nursing one hand with the other, he bowed deeply to someone behind Jak, where the accented, rolling voice had come from. Jak flipped around and found himself completely bathed in shadow.

A dolloped puddle of a man nearly as wide as the hallway floated forward on a levitating chair. The chair itself was made of interconnected plates of brass formed into a bowl with a teardrop peak, a spiderweb of blue eco circuits, pipes, and cogs with steam billowing out underneath, squeaking and hissing as it chugged along. He wore an emerald, coat-tailed suit over a white silk dress shirt nearly popping at the seams, and his fingers were covered with stacks of gold rings, eco crystals of every kind - including dark - glimmering between.

More garnished his neck and coat pockets on chains, and over his right eye shone a monocle made of pure light eco crystal. He waved at his own face with a silk fan, sweat rolling down by his cut ears and past what looked like dried chocolate stains at the corner of his mouth, then over his chins that sagged in fleshy paddle layers. In the other hand, he grasped a gilded pipe, which by some miracle of invention relit itself on occasion using a yellow eco crystal underneath.

And the smell… Jak had grown up around yakows and farms using their dung for fertilizer, reeking under dry season suns. He had also spent a night sleeping in a Haven alley in a pile of trash and who knows what else. But sweat that reeked of rotten vegetables and yakow cheese, the sting of booze, cologne, and the pungent roil of rich tobacco emitted from the man in nose hair singeing waves.

Daxter was near to keeling, and Jak, his own eyes blearing, held his breath as politely as he could, barely able to manage a small bow of his own without gagging, having to hold Daxter as he did, else the ottsel might have fallen off.

The man completely ignored Jak, not even sparing him a single glance, then continued, "Of course, not before creating the Precursor Stone. Fantastic piece of weaponry that was, ey? Shame only the monks know where Mar's Tomb is. I'd do anything to get my hands on it. They say it was supposed to be powerful enough to destroy Precursors. Of course, that's assuming it actually existed."

"Mr. Blott, I thought you'd gone home for the night?" Vin asked.

Mr. Blott floated past Jak and Daxter and over the desk, trailing one hand through the eco crystal shards in the chandelier above, then peered at what Vin was doing, a suspicious curve to his brow. "Just got back from a late meeting with the Baron and His Highness. Showed them the blueprints for those dark eco mechs, ey?"

"W-what'd they say?"

Mr. Blott pawed one of the bejeweled pocketwatches hanging from his own coat, eyes gleaming. "They were practically throwing money at me to get them finished. I told them we were still waiting on some hired hands to retrieve the parts we didn't have records for. Speaking of, did Sig manage to retrieve that core yet?"

"Actually," Vin looked to Jak with a thankful grin. "Yes. And Sig had some help-"

Mr. Blott sped down to Vin. "What!? Where?"

"It's down in my lab, sir. We should be able to get going with the next phase of development tomorrow."

"Ah…" Mr. Blott sighed. "At last. I was beginning to fear we'd never find an intact core."

"Well, you can thank Jak here. Sig said Jak was the only reason they even got into the ruin. The mech was operational and Jak not only got the core, but saved Sig's life."

Jak smiled a little at that. So despite all that happened - after how he'd been the one to have gotten them into the mech mess and lost the Peace Maker - Sig didn't hate him. Jak shot Vin an appreciative squinch of the eyes and shrugged modestly.

But that was the first time Mr. Blott looked at Jak with any interest. Jak shrank a little at his stare as he floated over. The wave of reek hit again.

"Jak, hmm?"

He scanned Jak over multiple times. Discomfort tapped up Jak's spine and down to his legs and fingers. Over time, the stench melted away, his nose growing used to it, and Mr. Blott's glower lifted into a smile.

A chubby-fingered hand reached forward. Jak took it reluctantly, not sure what to expect, and Mr. Blott shook his hand with surprising strength.

"You have my thanks, Mr…?"

"Jakan Kur. Jak is fine."

"Krew Blott," he replied, shaking his hand again. "Well, here is my direct thanks for retrieving that core. Such an important piece to a puzzle we've been working on, ey? You wouldn't happen to be willing to, say, work on a few other retrieval tasks, hmm?"

"Actually, Mr. Blott, that's why I brought Jak up here. I-I was looking for the blueprints for the other two artifacts."

"Splendid!" Krew finally released Jak's hand. As he floated away, Daxter leaned down to sniff Jak's fingers, still held aloft in stunned surprise, and gagged.

"Vin, how much did you pay Mr. Kur?"

"T-thirty thousand total. Fifteen each for Jak and Sig."

"Only thirty!?"

Vin shrank back, shimmying away and around Krew's desk as Krew went to the back of it and tapped a few buttons on a panel near the edge. A vault on the other side of the elder cedar wall that cut off the office from the rest of the floor creaked open behind Jak. Krew went over and rifled through what must have been thousands of jingling coins. Daxter's eyes sparkled against their black and silver shine, and Jak would have been lying if he claimed his eyes didn't widen, too.

Krew turned around again and tossed a few bags into Jak's arms. "Here. An extra five thousand."

Jak nearly collapsed. Five thousand, just like that? And on top of fifteen thousand? He remembered the first rule of Haven, imagined a dagger in Krew's hand, then shook his head. "What's the catch?"

Krew burst into laughter. "What's the catch, he says? I am merely grateful for your contribution, hmm? Of course, if my generosity happened to coax you into working extra hard on retrieving a few more artifacts for me, and perhaps considering a few other jobs here and there, I wouldn't mind."

"Other jobs?"

"Oh, details we can discuss later. Consider the five thousand a tip. No strings attached. But, just know that I always pay well, should you ask for more work."

What Jak was considering, was keeping this memory as a source for blue eco later. He could barely contain his heartbeat as it tried to leap from his throat.

Maybe… maybe getting money will be easier than I thought? Maybe I can get all I need from working for this guy?

And then hope came knocking. The first he'd glimpsed in months, after walking in a desert of fear and panic and despair with not a single sip of it in sight. Was it dangerous to even let it past his lips? Perhaps it was a mirage? A poison? Would his attempt to take it reveal it to be worthless dust?

But maybe his risk in taking the mech's dark eco had been worth it? Maybe the universe was finally throwing him a bone, letting him win for once, and his cure really was within reach now? He clutched the money Krew had given him tighter to his chest.

"And you look quite familiar, ey?"

Jak glanced up. Krew was hovering close again, fiddling with his monocle.

"I've heard rumors that Ms. Praxis had taken a Wise racer under her wing. I thought it impossible, but then I saw one practicing the other night with some promising talent. A young fellow with an ottsel on his shoulder." Krew glanced at Jak's ears, then at Daxter with a smile. "My company sponsors racers, ey?"

The stun in Jak's nerves fell over him like a frigid tsunami.

"Well, after getting this artifact for me and perhaps a few more, I may be inclined to keep my eye on this racer, hmm?"

Jak walked the whole way home through Haven's nightstruck streets with Sig speechless, only nodding weakly when Sig thanked him for the save in the ruin and told him not to worry about the Peace Maker. In Jak's arms was a large, rolled up map of Haven and the surrounding areas with two green 'x's marked on it, and he hugged it like it was a written decree from the Precursors themselves.

Sig and Jak entered the Willow House's perfumed courtyard, money slung over Sig's shoulder in a safe, inconspicuous bag he'd procured when he'd returned from the bank. Just as they got to the door, Tess burst out in her robes and squeezed them both in a hug, then, blubbering out 'where were you's' and promises to break out tea and cookies, she heralded them inside with arms like gold silk wings.

Then came the grilling. Jak shook out of his stupor long enough to participate, at least to defend himself.

"You what ?"

Jak glanced over at Sig, who sat beside him at Tess' low table in her office, a cookie in his cyborg hand. He gave Jak a stern nod. Jak retorted with an irritated look. Sig raised an eyebrow, then gestured with his chin towards Tess.

She was standing, hands on her hips, on the other side of the table. Jak was reminded of Keira's description of what a mother was like, and for a moment he wondered if it was really that helpful to have one.

"Tess, it was only…" Jak waved his teacup to the side. "I can use other ecos, so what?"

"Jak, first you show up here, and all I get told is that you're a green sage's apprentice. Then you blow up my bathroom and I find out about the dark eco. Now, blue, too?"

Sig set his own tea down with a plink. "Trust me, he's not very good at it-"

"Hey, I thought you said you didn't care about Peace Maker?"

"What I said, was that I can replace it and wasn't mad at you. I didn't say that I didn't give a damn about losing it."

Jak sighed. "Sorry."

"It's no worry. Anyways," Sig turned to Tess again. "I didn't want to tell you to give him a lecture, or anything. Like I said, he saved our asses. But if he's living in your house, you deserve to know."

"I don't know why it's important," Jak mumbled.

Tess and Sig exchanged a glance. Then Tess knelt next to him and put a hand on his shoulder, just below where Daxter was sitting, munching on a cookie of his own.

"Jak, you're already a target because of your green eco. The fact that you can channel not even two, but three?" She shook her head. "If any slavers knew that, you'd be an even bigger target. And then with your dark eco… are you sure nothing bad happened when you deactivated the mech?"

He glanced up into her amber eyes, then away. She and Sig had tried to pry that info out of him earlier in the conversation.

My wound is my own business. I don't want to worry her, Jak thought.

At his silence, Tess sighed quietly and let go of his shoulder, looking to Sig. "Thank you for helping Jak today. And for helping him meet with Vin and Mr. Blott, and… maybe even being the reason he gets a sponsorship."

At those words, Jak grew excited again.

Sig nodded and patted Jak on the back. "Glad to help. Jak, you be careful with Mr. Blott, though. Only accept jobs from him that you want to. He's generous, but sometimes he can be pushy. And focus on the race as much as you can. His artifacts can wait 'til after."

With that, Sig got up, and both he and Tess started chattering about things he needed her to look after while he was gone out to the Wasteland, as well as some things he promised to bring back to her - gun parts, mostly - upon his return.

"Jak? You go to bed now. You've had a long day."

Jak heartily agreed with a nod and bolted as respectfully as he could out of Tess' office, but not before Daxter stole an armful of cookies. As Jak walked out and readied to gather his cut of the money from earlier that he'd left just outside her door, Sig and Tess' voices mingled in faint whispers.

"It's strange, isn't it?" Tess asked.

"I'll say. It's not unheard of for two, but three?"

"I know."

"You said he was an orphan, right? No idea about his parents?"

Jak paused in the hallway, glancing back.

"Not that he's ever mentioned. He dodged the topic the few times I brought it up."

"And now he's got that wound to contend with."

"Yeah, about that…"

"Hmm?"

"Sig, you've been around dark eco a lot more than me. Is it possible that someone could survive direct exposure like that?"

"Well, Gol Acheron did, so it's possible. But no, I'd usually say not. And did Jak tell you about the Legacy ruin?"

"What?"

A sigh. "He was found outside of a ruin as a baby. A big Precursor place, he said."

"But he's Wise. One of us would never even go near one, never mind just leave our child there."

"And his ears aren't cut like a northerner's, so I don't think his real parents were from here, either. Then the Eclipse ruin today recognized him. Tess, that doesn't just happen. Ever. Something smells a little fishy, is all I'm saying."

At those words, Jak's heart jumped. Did Sig think he was lying? Jak bit his lip and strained to listen more.

"Should I try to coax more out of him?"

"Tess, I'm not sure even he knows." There was a long silence. Finally, Sig sighed again. "Poor damn kid."

Jak was about to linger and drown in those words as he headed towards bed, the pity in Sig's tone making him spiral towards a despair he hadn't felt since taking down the mech. He'd worried about his wound for so long that the questions Tess and Sig were pondering over had taken a backseat in his own mind.

The dark eco wound had a contender, one that had been there for much longer, and was much quieter most of the time, now near to ripping open fresh and raw again.

But the weight of the money he hefted into his aching hands helped keep that wound sealed. Who needed to worry about who you were when the question of would you die was in the air? And not just the question, but a possible answer to it.

Setting the money down by his shared jar with Daxter in the space between their halves of their room, Jak then opened the window, sat down, and breathed in the midnight air, not caring that it carried Haven's usual stink. He'd gotten used to it, and a lot of other sour things, in a short amount of time.

Daxter settled at his side with a hoard of cookies still in arm, adding two ottsel legs beside Jak's human ones over the balcony's edge.

"Ya know, between the mech and Krew's reek, I'm surprised we're still alive."

Jak smiled at Daxter, his eyes wet.