Another chapter! We're actually coming up to one of my favorite parts. I've already written a good chunk of the next several chapters, so hopefully updates will be quick. Thanks for all your support!

Happy reading!

Keira's return to Haven City was oddly anticlimactic. As she stepped off the transport and gazed around the Port sector, she felt an odd sense of…wistfulness, she supposed.

Spargus had been a nice change.

Not that she wanted to live there, of course. Keira was a city girl at heart; zoomers and technology, metal and electricity, those were her great passions.

But it had been a nice change.

She hoisted her bag over her shoulder and started for the Naughty Ottsel. Her father was probably in New Haven, at Freedom HQ. She wasn't quite sure she was prepared for the tongue lashing she was about to get from him.

The Naughty Ottsel was as normal as ever. Metal head trophies looming over them, pictures of Daxter and Tess staring down. Torn sitting at a booth, glaring at his papers.

Just as she left it.

"Hey, Torn," she greeted as she walked to the bar. For a moment, Torn just grunted, then he did a double take. "What's up?"

"Now you show up," he grumbled. "Samos has been pestering me for a week to send someone out to the Wasteland to find you. Forget the fact that anyone who goes out there is signing their own death warrant."

Keira felt annoyance flare. "No one seemed all that worried about Jak going out there."

"Yeah, well, Jak's not exactly normal." Torn bent his head back over his paperwork, signaling the conversation as over. Keira rolled her eyes and headed for the bar.

"Tess? Tess, you here?" Keira leaned over the bar and peered into the back. "Tess?"

"Keira! You're back!" Tess popped out of the backroom, her hands full of bottles of alcohol. "How was the trip? How are the boys?"

"They're fine." Ever the same, Tess was. Nothing ever changed around here. "Daxter says he misses you, and some other things I'll never repeat."

"Oh, I miss my Daxxie so much!" She picked up a glass. "You want a drink? You'll probably need it before your dad gets here."

Tess didn't wait for Keira's answer, pouring some wine into a glass for her. Keira picked it up and toasted the bartender. "Thanks." She sipped it and sighed. "So, how is everything around here?"

"Same as always." She glanced at Torn and lowered her voice. "But I think the shit's about to hit the fan, if you want to know the truth. There's something going on in the Guard, and we're pretty sure Veger's behind it."

Keira made a face as she sipped her drink. "Isn't he always."

They chatted some more as she finished her drink, mostly talking about Jak and Daxter and their adventures in the Wasteland. She was in the middle of explaining how she'd managed to put a heat shield on the satellites—Tess was sometimes the only one who understood her inventions—when Torn stood up. He walked towards the bar and leaned casually against it.

"On your six," he said to her. Keira turned around, just in time to see Samos walk in.

"Keira! There you are!" He moved quickly towards her, staff in hand, as if ready to heal her. Just like in Sandover. "We need to have a talk, young lady! You shouldn't have gone into the Wasteland, it's dangerous out there!"

Keira inhaled slowly. "Daddy, I'm fine," she said, spinning around on her stool. "I was never in any danger."

"I doubt that," he said firmly, planting his staff on the ground. He shot a glare at Torn. "And someone should have told me the minute you arrived in the city."

Torn dug around in his pockets and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "Don't get mad at me," he complained, flicking a lighter. "I didn't run away to the desert."

"I didn't know you smoked," Keira commented. Torn took a drag of the cigarette and sighed contentedly.

"He quit a few years ago," Tess supplied. "I haven't seen him fall off the wagon since."

"Hanging around Jinx made me crave it again." He blew a puff of smoke into the air. "I'll quit when the war is over."

Samos frowned and pointed a finger at him. "That's not good for your health! Heart and lung damage, increased risk for strokes, even—!"

"Samos." Torn exhaled smoke through his nose. "Why don't you parent your actual kid instead of me?"

"Er…right." Samos turned to Keira and tilted his chin up. "You should never have gone into the desert, especially without telling me."

Keira ran her thumb over the amulet Damas had given her. "Daddy, that's enough," she said loudly. He looked taken aback by her sharp tone. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I did it for two years, you know."

Samos clenched his fists. "I-I know that," he admitted. "But you're my daughter, and I worry about you."

"I know that," she said, softer this time. "But I'm not a little girl anymore. You can't keep me behind walls and locked doors."

Samos sat down beside her with a sigh. "Oh, Keira," he murmured. "I know I can't. I never could, even when you were a little girl. But…old habits are hard to break." He smiled at her. "I'm sorry, dear."

"It's fine, Daddy." She leaned over and hugged him. "I should've told you, so I'm sorry, too."

"Aww!" Tess clapped her hands together. "That's so sweet!"

Keira laughed and let go of Samos, who leaned back and adjusted his glasses. "So, then," he said lightly, "I suppose I should ask how everything was. How are Jak and his, er…furball doing?"

"They're great!" Keira launched into the tales of the Wasteland, of how Jak and Daxter were living, of how she'd helped the city by building satellites.

All the while, Samos watched her, a strange sort of sad pride in his eyes.

Jak and Daxter were waiting when Damas pulled up in the Slam Dozer. As he slowed to a stop, Jak raised his goggles.

"Taxi? Follow that…uh, city!" Daxter hopped up onto the back of the driver's seat as Jak climbed into the back. "Go fast and we'll give you a good tip."

"I'm not sure you can afford my rates," Damas said with a smirk. "Any injuries, either of you?"

"Nope." Jak pulled his scarf down and grinned. "Still in one piece."

"Good." Damas started to drive, heading for Spargus. "Sig, stay on the gun. We're almost home."

There was something wrong.

Damas couldn't explain it; perhaps it was just anxiety or paranoia. But he had old warrior instincts, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong in his desert. That there was something, someone, playing in a sandbox that Damas just didn't want to share.

It only took a few minutes for his feelings to be validated.

"Stop!" Sig's voice was a harsh bark, and Damas slammed on the brakes. Daxter went flying with his usual shriek, bouncing off the dashboard. Jak leaned forward, following Sig's gaze. "What is it?"

Damas followed his sight line. "Up on those cliffs. Those look like…"

Jak pulled his goggles down and then growled. "The Dark Makers."

The Dark Makers.

Damas hadn't seen the actual creatures so close before. There were a dozen of them, at least. No doubt there were more out of sight. They were huddled around a Marauder vehicle, one of the spiked and striped buggies they drove. The Dark Makers had flipped the damned thing over. Precursors only knew what had happened to the driver.

As Damas watched, the Dark Makers moved around the buggy. They were grotesque, a strange hybrid of machinery and biology. They moved too smoothly to be robots, but they were certainly not human. Dark tendrils that whipped through the air, glowing purple eyes and dark eco dripping from their very bodies.

Metal heads were one thing: animalistic and feral, most were more beast than man. But these creatures…

As they watched, the Dark Makers seemed to be communicating in a series of strange tones. One of them reached into the overturned buggy and started to growl.

"They're looking for something," Damas whispered. Beside him, Sig frowned. "It must be another artifact."

"Yeah, well, we better get outta here, before they come lookin' for us!" Daxter waved his paw at Damas. "Drive, drive!"

"We can't. We're too close." Damas leaned forward a bit to get a better look. "If they spot us, they'll attack, and we're heavily outnumbered. We can't risk it."

"So, what, we just sit here until they leave?" Sig looked towards the east, where the ocean slammed against the cliffside. "What we oughta do is backtrack a bit, and go another way."

"Wait." Jak grabbed the crossbar and leaned forward. "I have an idea."

"Ears open, cherry." Sig leaned back to listen. "What do you think?"

Jak hesitated. "I…Seem's been teaching me how to use dark eco. And one of her powers is…invisibility."

Sig gave a broad smile. "Alright! Jak saves the day again. Remind me to buy you a drink when we get back."

Damas, however, frowned at him. "I've seen Seem use her invisibility. She can't make an entire vehicle invisible."

"But I can." Damas looked at him. His skepticism must have shown on his face, because Jak grimaced and added, "Look, I have different powers than she does. I'm pretty sure I can…I don't know, share my invisibility."

"You truly think you have more powers than the acolyte of dark eco?"

"Uh, he said different powers," Daxter butt in. "Which is true. I'm pretty sure Seem doesn't grow fangs and claws."

"Fair enough." Damas hesitated, then turned back to Jak. "Are you certain that you are capable of this? Sig is right, we could backtrack and find another route to Spargus."

"I can do it," Jak replied firmly. Damas eyed him up.

Trust was crucial on the battlefield. They might not be in a typical war, but the fact still remained. If you couldn't trust your comrades, you were doomed to lose.

He nodded once, approvingly. "Very well. Let's do it."

Jak's grin, boyish and proud, almost made him smile back. No time, however, since Jak was focused on the task at hand. "We need to move fast. I can't keep us invisible for long."

"Their range of sight is pretty limited," Sig told them. "It looks like they can't see any of the Marauders over there." He gestured to where a group of Marauders were zooming around, half a mile away.

"At the very least," Damas added, "the Dark Makers aren't concerned about them. We can blend in with them." He adjusted his hands on the wheel. "We'll go straight north. Jak, the second you're ready, I'm going forward. Sig, stay on the gun and keep a look out. If those things notice us, we're in for one hell of a fight."

Jak nodded. He stood up in the back and braced each of his hands on the crossbars. Damas waited, listening closely for Jak to say something. He exhaled slowly.

Like a blanket, the power of dark eco fell over them. Dark and deep, almost chilling them. As Damas watched, the vehicle around them rippled in the sunlight, then flickered away. He glanced around and saw that Sig, Jak, and Daxter were all cloaked, too. Judging by Sig's face, so was he.

"Go." Jak's voice was raspy and guttural, but Damas paid it no mind. He hit the gas and they zoomed forward. They flew across the sands, with Sig watching the Dark Makers intently.

A moment later, and they were on the other side of the cliffside, near the group of Marauders. By then, Jak's powers appeared to have reached their limit. They flickered back into view, and though the Marauders attacked them, there was no sign of the Dark Makers. Damas breathed a sigh of relief.

"Ahh! Man overboard!" Daxter leapt from Jak's shoulder with a shout. The teen had slumped to the side, almost falling out of the buggy, his eyes half-closed. Sig quickly grabbed the ring on his chest and hauled him back in.

Jak fell back against the back of the buggy, groaning. He was pale and shaking, but the grin on his face was triumphant. Daxter cheered from beside him.

"Oh, yeah! You the man!" He gave Jak a fistbump, which the boy weakly returned. "See, having dark eco floating around ain't all bad."

"You doin' alright there, rookie?" Sig leaned back, concern on his face. "You don't look so great."

Jak grunted, but Daxter answered for him. "He's fine! Just needs a little nap. You know how cranky he gets when he's tired."

Damas reached back and patted Jak's calf. "Rest, son," he said reassuringly. "You did good work today."

Jak gave him a sleepy thumbs up and tilted his head back. He closed his eyes and slid an arm under his head, rolling onto his side. Damas gave a rough bark of a laugh and turned back around. He drove towards the fiery beacon, high in the afternoon sky, that lit the way home.

Ionna was waiting.

She stood in the garage, arms folded, staring at the doors and waiting for them to open. Beside her, Seem pursed her lips and tapped her foot anxiously.

They were both waiting, actually. For Damas to return to the city, hopefully with a newly upgraded communications system. And hopefully not with any injuries or missing parts.

The garage door opened and both women straightened, uneasily readying themselves. The buggy skidded to a stop several feet from them. Damas slid out of the driver's seat, but Sig was the one who called out her name.

"Hey, Ionna! We could use some help over here." Sig climbed out of the passenger's side and went to the back. "Jak's, uh…he's a little out of it right now."

"He overdid it with the dark eco," Daxter said, as Sig pulled Jak out from the buggy. The teenager was conscious, though he was clearly struggling to stand. Sig slung one of Jak's arms over his shoulder and helped keep him upright.

"Let me see." Seem stepped forward, her hands outstretched. She tilted his head up and took his pulse, checking his eyesight with a careful, practiced ease. She frowned and directed him to squeeze her hand. "He's weak. What happened?"

Daxter started in on the story with his usual gusto, but Ionna paid him no attention; with Jak being cared for by Seem, she set her sights on Damas. His eyes, violet and sharp as ever, met hers. She jerked her head towards the corner of the garage.

They met there, their backs toward the group, their voices low and hushed. Ionna folded her arms and frowned. "You didn't happen to run into any Dark Makers out there, did you?"

Damas glanced back at Jak. "As a matter of fact," he said slowly, "we did. Am I to take it that you've seen others?"

"Some of the monks were killed by them. Seem said the Dark Makers were looking for the Eco Sphere." Ionna sighed and clasped her hands together. "They're getting bolder."

"I've already stopped all non-emergency movement in the Wastes," he said. "I'll put Kleiver at the garage, to ensure everyone stays in the city."

"Good plan. But we have a bigger issue." She glanced behind her again, then lowered her voice even further. "Sooner or later, they'll launch an attack. On Spargus, on the Temple, on Haven…it doesn't matter where, but they will attack us directly."

Damas frowned; clearly, he didn't like that idea. "We'll fortify the city. In the meantime, perhaps it would be best if Seem and the monks were to stay here."

"I doubt Seem will agree," Ionna told him. "The Monk Temple has its own protections, not the least of which is her own powers. They'll be fine."

Damas didn't argue. Instead, he just asked, "And what about Jak's training? You were adamant that he needed to continue."

Ionna hesitated. "...Seem can teleport from the Monk Temple. We can keep him here, in Spargus, while he trains."

Damas glanced over at the group. Daxter was now shadowboxing, making a show of knocking out imaginary enemies. Seem appeared to have helped Jak to his feet, while Sig was standing by, waiting for the boy to fall over again. Damas looked at Ionna. "He'll argue. He doesn't like being told what to do."

"Mmm." Ionna snorted. "Who does he sound like?"

Damas raised an eyebrow. "Are you implying that I'm obstinate?"

Ionna rolled her eyes, but didn't answer. Instead, she turned back to the group. "Is he alright?" she asked Seem. The monk nodded. "Good."

"I'm just a little tired." Jak was standing on his own now, and though he swayed a bit, he was much more alert. Seem turned to Ionna.

"He channeled too much dark eco at once," she explained. "Something he was warned not to do," she added with a chiding look. "But he'll be fine after some rest. He won't be able to channel eco for several days."

"Do you hear that?" Damas called over. "You are not to channel eco until Seem allows you to do so, is that clear?"

Jak looked disgruntled, but evidently his exhaustion won out. With a sigh, he mumbled, "Fine. No eco."

"Eh, it's no big deal. Now we can have a little stay-cation, right, buddy?" Daxter didn't hop onto Jak's shoulder, probably because he had the suspicion that Jak might fall over. Instead, he just casually leaned against his friend's boot. "Chill out at home, watch the Wasteland babes go by, eat some o' that delicious fruit…"

"So our boy's gonna be fine?" Sig squeezed Jak's shoulder. "I knew it. It'll take a lot more than that to take out Jak."

Jak gave him a laugh, but Ionna's face was still as serious as ever. "There's another issue at hand," she said. "Jak, it's no longer safe to cross the desert. You've seen what the Dark Makers are doing, how unpredictable they're being."

"Yeah, yeah," Daxter said breezily. "Don't go out if we don't have to, yadda yadda."

"No." Damas came from behind, his hands clasped behind his back. He made sure Jak was making eye contact before continuing. "Don't go out at all. You need to remain in the city."

For a brief moment, Jak and Daxter shot each other a look. Finally, Jak said weakly, "But what about my dark eco lessons?"

"It's not safe for you to go to the Mountain Temple right now," Ionna said firmly. "We'll work something out."

Seem made a noise of agreement. "I can travel here, to Spargus, to continue our lessons. Provided we can use the arena?" she asked. Damas nodded.

"This is not something to take lightly." Damas' voice was stern as he addressed Jak. "You saw those creatures, Jak. We were fortunate this time, but it would be foolish to press our luck too far."

"But…" Jak looked around at them all. "I have…I have to find the Eco Sphere."

Ionna blinked. "No, Jak," she said calmly. "Seem will find the Eco Sphere. You need to focus on your training, on making sure you're ready to take on Erol and the Dark Makers."

Jak gave Damas a desperate look. "No…no, I'm the one who has to…"

"You don't have to do anything." Damas' voice was surprisingly gentle. "Jak, you are a Wastelander now. That means you are not alone. We all must work together, and sometimes that means you must let others do what they need to do."

Jak didn't look particularly happy, but Ionna got the feeling he was too tired to put up a good fight. She took advantage of his fatigue and glanced at Sig. "Now is not the time to discuss this. Jak needs his rest. Would you mind making sure he gets to bed safely?"

"Sure thing." Sig reached down and picked up Daxter, plopping the ottsel on his own shoulder. "C'mon, rookies, it's past your bedtime. You need a cup o' warm yakow milk, it'll put you right out."

Sig kept talking, cheerfully leading an exhausted Jak back into the city. Ionna glanced at Damas and Seem, who were both watching them go.

"We will find the Eco Sphere eventually," Seem assured them. "Don't forget what the Precursors told us."

Damas raised an eyebrow at Ionna, who didn't need him to say anything. They both knew that Seem, the pious monk, would always have faith in the Precursors.

But the exiled king and the Wasteland medic? Faith would always be a gamble to them.

Not that it mattered. As Seem teleported away in a bruise-purple haze, Damas turned to Ionna. He hesitated, then asked, "Do you think we can defeat the Dark Makers?"

Ionna gave a bitter laugh. "You've never been one to give up. Does it matter if we can or not? We're still going to try."

"...You're not wrong." Damas put his hands on his hips and gave her a smirk. "I suppose we only have one choice."

Ionna nodded and started to walk into the city. Damas fell into step beside her as they entered. "Keep pushing forward."