Torn is, well, torn.

Chapter 36: Planning

They decided to put off the rest of their planning until Sig's return to Spargus following the safe transit of the people of Haven City to the city in the Wasteland for two reasons, the more obvious reason being that the leader of Spargus had every right to be a part of planning their next moves, and the other being more out of necessity. With Torn and Ashelin at a standstill over what action to take next, a third party was needed before the two managed to kill each other with sour expressions alone. This left Torn several days to wander around Spargus, his first day spent considering whether or not he should drive right back into the desert and help with the fighting. He decided against it when he realized that his absence would only mean there would be no one left to challenge Ashelin on her plans for fighting Gol and Maia.

While they agreed on a few things, their ideas were otherwise at odds with each other, and no amount of logical discussions or, when that didn't work, forceful arguments could sway the other to their side. There was no doubt they must strike soon while their enemies were weakened, before they could rebuild their factory or make another robot. But, her way of going about it was wrong, and frankly, she was less suited to making decisions in this area when he knew more of what Gol and Maia were capable of than she did.

Her plan to send more soldiers out to the citadel was foolhardy. Ordinary soldiers didn't stand a chance against those two, and greater numbers only meant a larger target. He agreed that Jak should go once he had recovered, but sending more to their deaths was no longer acceptable. If it ever had been. They had given up enough. Many had lost their lives; all had lost their homes. Neither the Governess nor her advisor had been able to stop it. How could they ask for more from the people they had failed? It should be Jak and him, the only two who had already fought those scumbags before. And Torn knew exactly where the citadel was. He had traced and retraced that route into his mind over and over again until there was no chance he'd forget. And Jak had beaten them once, so what need was there for a group of soldiers that would only get in the way, if they weren't simply killed first?

That was the only thing that made sense and the only option he'd be satisfied with, but while Ashelin was in agreement about Jak going, she refused to allow Torn to do the same (not that he needed her permission, of course). He was just as capable. Torn had been fighting longer than Jak had, so where did her logic come from that she put her faith in a kid, as miraculous as his past victories were, but not the man who had been fighting since before Jak was even born? Why did she suddenly think he couldn't handle himself? He could only hope Sig would see reason and side with him, though even if he did, knowing Ashelin when she was in a particularly stubborn mood, they would still be effectively outnumbered. What had happened to him, allowing someone to tell him what to do anyway? He must be growing soft.

And so, not long into their break, Torn managed to find any alcohol he could in the palace to tide him over. Getting sand in his eyes and baked by the sun (not to mention receiving a surprisingly profane scolding from a shriveled, old Wastelander woman that had popped out of nowhere over the racket he was making using those "kango-rats", or whatever they were called, as target practice) was just not doing it for him. Not that alcohol usually put him in a nicer mood, but at least it would kill time.

And over the next few days, while Torn tried to keep himself busy and searched his mind for ways to make Ashelin see sense, the people of Haven City made their way to Spargus, the city filling up with life again and then overflowing, becoming crowded with people that shouldn't even be here, if things had gone better. They had to find whatever lodgings they could, whether it be in the currently empty homes of Wastelanders off fighting (where the Wastelanders would go upon their return was yet to be decided, not to mention the soldiers of Haven City) or to crowd into the various rooms of the palace, people having no choice but to sit around in countless groups beginning in the entrance hall and spreading beyond that, and then when even that was not enough, the unluckiest had no choice but to stay in makeshift tents outside, made of rough canvas that provided shade from the sun but no other comfort. This further gave Torn a reason to stay indoors, mainly in his room or whatever hallways he could find that were not yet occupied by people from Haven, as his current mood didn't make him very open to human companionship.

Sig finally arrived shortly after the last group of refugees, likely staying behind just a bit longer to kill off a few more groups of monsters (or, considering the potency of his chosen weapon, a lot more groups of monsters, though, to be honest, a real man uses a simple pistol, not a gun that shoots oversized balls of energy). Hearing the news of the king's arrival, upon which their discussions would no doubt continue, Torn made his way to the throne room, which didn't take him too long to find thanks to the fact that he had already wandered here on countless occasions by accident, when on the hunt for the bathroom, the kitchen, booze, and whatever places Ashelin had chosen for their meetings prior to Sig's return and before they had given up on their fruitless efforts to persuade the other to their way of thinking. He ended up being only a little late.

Being the first time he had really gotten a good look at the room, Torn couldn't help but notice the fact that the throne room of the palace of Spargus couldn't have been more different from the one previously used by the Baron and, for a short time, Ashelin, in Haven City. The inclusion of pillars and the walls of glass were much the same, though the latter more intricate here, but that was largely where the similarities ended, with the blue walls and dimly lit environment of the Baron's throne room in sharp contrast to the earth tones of this place, stone and brown stucco like the other rooms, with green added by the potted palms. Channels of water ran through the room, with not much to keep people from falling in (though, a real Wastelander wouldn't fall in to begin with, and if Torn didn't want to look like a huge idiot, he'd make sure he didn't, either). The throne itself was raised up on steps, with what appeared to be a waterwheel, of all things, behind it. Once again, water could only mean power out here in the desert, and the throne room didn't disappoint. Both rooms were meant to impress, but the starkness of the Baron's throne room gave more the feeling of death, while the throne room of Spargus showed off what little life the desert had to offer, life being an even more valuable thing here when it was so scarce.

And the discussion, or argument, whatever it could be called, began again, Torn and Ashelin going back over their ideas, Ashelin insisting that numbers were needed after seeing the state Jak was in after his recue, while Torn was certain this time would be different, as they were better prepared and had surprise on their side. At the very least, they knew how to navigate the citadel better this time, and if they could catch the two unawares, in the midst of rebuilding, perhaps they stood a chance. He knew it wouldn't be easy. He knew they wouldn't be so simple to fool. But, sending a bunch of people who were not experienced in dealing with those of such power was not practical, either. Jak and he had held their own well enough against Maia, even when Jak was injured (at the very least, neither one of them was killed, which was a good sign). With the two of them in better health, maybe that would be enough to take them out. If they could even just finish one of them off, maybe the tide of battle could be turned.

Eventually, after there was no sign their arguing would end and neither would back down, Sig found a crack in their conversation to speak. "I think you're both wrong."

They stopped to stare at him, both in shock that he hadn't taken their side of the discussion. Ashelin was the first to recover. "We can't just send two of our best people out there alone to die. Jak was nearly killed last time he was there."

Sig nodded, leaning on his Peace Maker. "I'm not saying you should. Not exactly. But, Torn's right, a group of people that have no idea what they're in for isn't a good idea, either. A Wastelander knows to only fight the enemy you know. To do anything else would be stupid. We need people that know what they're facing, but two isn't enough. But, since that's all we have, I say we send out a group of my Wastelanders as backup. We know the desert better than anyone, no argument there, and we know how to avoid being seen when we don't want to."

It wasn't a bad plan, but there was no need for more Wastelanders to die anymore than Haven City's soldiers. Torn opened his mouth to speak, but once again, Ashelin beat him to it.

"That could work, but your people have risked their lives for us enough already. It's time our soldiers repaid you."

But, Sig shook his head. "There's no need to repay someone who's just helpin' out. No offense, but your soldiers aren't exactly well-suited to the desert, not the heat or the sandstorms, let alone blending in."

Torn couldn't deny that. Their blue armor did indeed stand out much more than the Wastelanders' Metal Head plating and simple, worn clothing. At least it wasn't as bad as the red the KG used.

When Ashelin looked about ready to speak again, Torn spoke up first. While it was possible that she was going to say the exact same thing that he had in mind, he hadn't gotten a chance to say anything for the last several minutes. "It's a good enough plan, as long as the bulk of the fighting is left to us." He pointed a thumb to his chest, no Jak around to gesture to, as well. Considering Jak wasn't included in their recent decision-making, they could only assume and hope he'd agree to their plans. After all, he never turned down a chance to save others from danger before, though Torn couldn't guarantee Jak's plans would be the same as theirs. "We don't need anymore soldiers, Wastelander or not, dying for us. I'm not too important to risk my life."

"I thought we went over this. You won't be going."

He turned to Ashelin, her expression stern, but with something else in her eyes. A look he rarely saw. Was it worry? For their situation or something else?

"I already decided I was," he said.

She stared back at him, face now unreadable, and whether or not she had finally given in (which was unlikely) was yet to be determined. She then returned her attention to Sig, while Torn caught one more sidelong glance she directed at him. "There is no doubt that Jak is going," Torn's frown deepened at this, "but we will need to wait a few more days until he is ready. Last I spoke to Samos, he said that Jak wasn't fully recovered yet. How long before your Wastelanders are ready?"

"They're ready anytime you need 'em. I just need to pull some of them out of battle, and they're all yours," Sig said, the grin on his face in sharp contrast to Torn's expression.

Once again, the king of Spargus was more than willing to risk his own for the sake of others, which Torn couldn't help but respect. That's what soldiers were for, after all. If they didn't put their lives on the line, the people that couldn't fight would be put in harm's way. But, that didn't make him like it.

This war threatened the fate of the world, but it had begun in Haven City, and they had failed to contain it, the battle no doubt now about to spread to Spargus, and then to other cities around the planet, like an epidemic medicine couldn't cure. If they had done things differently… If they had somehow been able to prevent the bomb from blowing up... If Torn didn't just leave the citadel when he had a chance to kill Maia... Yes, if different decisions had been made, maybe fewer lives would have been lost and maybe Sig wouldn't have to put more of his people in danger for them. He did it because this war threatened Spargus, as well, not just Haven, and yet Torn couldn't shake the guilt that kept him up at night since Haven City's fall, when he realized just how inadequate his efforts really were.

While he saw Ashelin and Sig discussing a few final matters, his mind didn't register the words. He only returned fully to reality when she turned those green eyes to him again, eyes that made him forget everything else, if only for a moment. She studied his face before she said, "I guess that's all for now." Her words seemed to be addressed to them both, but her eyes remained on him, until they left him again to turn back to Sig. "We'll meet here again when everyone's ready."

Sig nodded, seemingly unaware of the silent exchange between Torn and the Governess, if there even was any significance to her look in the first place, and he hadn't just imagined it.

"Sure thing," the larger man said. "The day we level those two won't be soon enough, but we will do it. Don't you forget it."

Ashelin gave a short laugh. "I sure hope so."

And then she turned away, seeming to pause for a moment on Torn again, before heading out of the room. He watched her go before giving a quick glance in Sig's direction. Then, he was walking in the same direction she had gone. He didn't stop when Sig spoke up behind him.

"The world's safe in our hands. Jak's and yours, especially. I know it is." Sig laughed, and Torn just caught his last words as he turned the corner. "I also know you're going, no matter what she says. Good luck. You'll need it."

Torn returned to his room, a spacious place with a large bed, a couch, and various smaller seats with red cushions, comfortable enough the short periods of time he had used them before returning to his feet once more, a routine he had kept up over these last few days as the thoughts running through his mind prevented his feet from staying still. An empty bottle of some kind of Wasteland cactus wine that tasted like alcohol and sour fruit sat on a small, wooden table, but he was in no mood to find a replacement. Clouding his mind with alcohol wasn't getting him anywhere.

Something big was coming up, a direct attack on the citadel. A small group of people (which would include him no matter what Ashelin said) was hardly an attack, but it was their best bet, and while it would likely be the smallest struggle to take place during this war, it had the potential to be the most vital. Those two had to be taken out, or this war would never end. At least, it wouldn't end until Spargus was gone and the next place and the next. It wouldn't be over until those two were dead or the world was corrupted beyond all hope of saving. That's what Jak said those two wanted. And while Torn didn't have quite the understanding of Dark Eco that Jak did, he still knew very well how horrible a substance it was. If it could turn Jak into a monster, what horrors would it create if it was unleashed upon the entire world?

That's why it didn't matter what Ashelin said. He couldn't prevent Haven City from being poisoned, but he could stop Spargus from suffering the same fate. He had to. At least, he had to do everything in his power to keep it from happening, and if that wasn't enough, at least then he would no longer have to blame himself. Even though he probably still would.

Torn paced about the room several more times before he threw aside the curtains, semi-transparent things that let in light while keeping out the majority of heat. He opened one of the double doors, made of glass and wood and brass with intricately designed panes to walk out onto a rounded balcony with a metal railing. The heat of the sun pressed down on him as he went to lean on the railing, leaving a line of warmth that seeped through his sleeves as soon as he touched it, and looked out over the city around him, the endless desert clearly visible beyond its walls.

The Wasteland was as harsh a place to live as any, if not the worst environment on the entire planet, and yet people survived out here, in the heat and the desolation. There was nothing out here but sand and rocks and meager life consisting mainly of the occasional cactus or groupings of palm trees or strange bipedal lizards or the rats (at least, unlike Daxter, these rats didn't talk) that scurried about everywhere in town, some of which had even made their way into the palace to seek shelter from the intense temperatures outside and to pick at food that was hard to find elsewhere.

Despite all of this, the city had grown, and people managed to get by even if food and water and comfort were much harder to come by here than in other parts of the world. The people of Haven City, while things were not always easy for them, didn't have to go far to find food or water (though, under the Baron's reign, few could afford it), and the weather was not nearly as malicious as the Wasteland's daily shift between scorching days and bitter nights.

Until this whole ordeal (between the frequent wars the city experienced, at least), life in Haven City was easy compared to here. Ashelin had made sure, as soon as she got her position as Governess, that the people's needs would be met. That no one would starve or live in fear again. It was an impossible promise when war came, but she had done as well as one could expect during the peaceful periods, even managing to decrease the size of the Slums and completely doing away with the Water Slums. And yet, now that the intermittently "easy" life was gone, the people of Haven City would be forced to share in the trials that the people of Spargus had fought through for generations. How fitting it was that the war shift to a place where people already struggled just in their day-to-day survival. This was a city of survivors, and now they would be expected to survive through even worse.

Torn sighed. He had to do something, but he was no hero. Yes, he had been fighting for much longer than Jak had been, but never had he saved the world from danger. It couldn't really be said he had ever even saved Haven. That honor would have to go to Jak, as well. But, people's lives were hard enough here without a war to add to it. He may have let Haven City down, but if only there was a way he could keep this city safe from harm.

Perhaps he could, if he didn't make the same decisions he had been making. People had died because of him. Not directly, but because he had led them into situations where it happened, whether it was commanding soldiers when he was in the KG or sending members of the Underground on dangerous missions that led to their eventual deaths or capture. And he had let Haven City die. But, this was Spargus. This was another city, and he could make different decisions this time. Decisions that might yield different results. Their "attack" on the citadel was growing closer. Maybe that would make the difference. Maybe not. If not, what then? Try again? Or would it be too late by then?

The man stared down at the city streets as people from Haven City wandered below, lost and confused, in strange territory that was not their own, nor would they want it to be, while Torn pondered over what action to take. What action would be the right one? Would any? And why was he doubting himself so much?

A child ran to one wandering soul below, who wrapped an arm around them once they approached, but didn't look down, as if hardly aware of anything else but their own thoughts, thoughts Torn certainly couldn't read, but could guess at. He watched them amble on a short while longer, surely with no clear goal in mind, but to simply wander the unfamiliar city they had found themselves in, before he gave a grunt as he pushed himself away from the railing. The day they brought the fight to the citadel couldn't be more than days away. He would just have to wait and see what came of it.

I nearly forgot to type the second scene of this chapter. Woops. Please review.