Surprise! We're doing it now.

One time, I took a nap and woke up to see that armed protesters had stormed America's capitol. This is how Jak will feel very soon. Happy reading!

The news broke mid morning, when the sky was hazy with fog and the air still had a chill to it. Torn was already at the Hideout; Tess had a suspicion he had been sleeping there instead of his apartment. That was, she mused, if he was actually getting sleep.

Torn notoriously did not read the news bulletin. "What'll it say?" he muttered once, "'Breaking News: City Still At War'?"

But Tess always read it. Right before she went down to open the bar, she would pour herself a cup of orange juice (coffee made her anxious) and grab a breakfast bar, and read over the bulletin. It was sent out every morning, through the communicators, and detailed any major events that were going on.

Usually nowadays, it was full of areas to look out for: the KG bots had barricaded the 300 block of the slums, the metal heads were digging up eco in the port, there was a gang going around mugging people in the alley near Dead Town.

But this morning welcomed Tess with an official document, stamped and signed by the Governor Ashelin Praxis herself. She skimmed through it, expecting the usual kind of propaganda about how good the war was going.

The document was an evacuation plan. Tess took a sip of her orange juice as she looked over it, already mentally checked out. She had enough on her plate with running the Naughty Ottsel and helping Torn on the side. Honestly, it was amazing she even had time to read some stupid emergency plan that someone in a cushy office sent out.

Still, she did.

She almost wished she hadn't.

Tess didn't even finish her orange juice, instead just throwing on a jacket and rushing out of the bar.

She ran through the city, ignoring the skirmishes that happened around her. Honestly, at this point, she was so used to seeing metal heads and KG bots that they were practically part of the scenery.

Usually, the slums was filled with early morning commuters. Kids made their sleepy way to school, taking safe routes and escorted by parents with hand-me-down weapons. Exhausted engineers, who were working tirelessly to keep the city in one piece, stumbling back to their homes after twelve-hour shifts. Shops and stalls propped up with rebar and manned by armed citizens.

But not this morning.

They stood huddled around in groups, whispering in hushed, angry tones over their communicators. Tess kept moving, her boots thudding on the ground, only catching a few words here and there.

"...can't be real…"

"...got her name on it…"

"...anyone really surprised…?"

She skirted her way into the alley, into the Underground hideout. Torn was there, and to her surprise, so were Jinx and Keira.

"Did you see it?" Tess asked breathlessly.

"Jinx just told me about it." Torn was scrolling through the communicator, squinting as he tried to find the bulletin. "Dammit…I always delete these things without reading them…"

"The city isn't actually being evacuated," Keira said, reading through the bulletin. "It says this is an emergency plan, in case of 'significant coordinated attack'. So why was this sent out?"

"My guess? Veger." Torn, evidently fed up with trying to work his own communicator, threw it angrily to the side. "He's trying to discredit Ashelin and take control. And I still can't reach her," he added.

Keira continued reading the bulletin, her eyes getting wider with each word. "Precursors, this plan is…"

"Awful?" Tess supplied.

"Says here that the richie-rich get evacuated first." Jinx wasn't even smoking at the moment, just chewing angrily on his cigar. "Then the people livin' in the port got 48 hours before they're evacuated. But those of us on the bottom rung?" Jinx made a slicing motion across his throat. "Fuck us, eh?"

"What does it actually say?" Torn demanded. "Without the dramatics?"

Keira read directly off her communicator. "'Residents of the New Haven sector will be prioritized as the first wave of evacuation. Citizens will be escorted to Kras City through transport by the Freedom League. Citizens are encouraged to bring any documentation of citizenship and any physical currency with them."

Tess made a face. "Right. Because heaven forbid they leave behind their money while running for their lives."

"Residents of the Port Sector, beginning at the the Industrial Sector barrier and ending at the Agricultural Sector barrier, will shelter-in-place for a 48-hour period.'" Keira furrowed her brow as she continued reading. "'During this time, citizens will prepare for a second wave of evacuation. Freedom League transports will arrive in the center platform to escort citizens to Kras City."

"Here comes the good part," Jinx said, gesturing with his cigar.

"'Residents of the eastern sectors of the city, beginning at the Industrial Sector barrier and ending at the 1600 block of the residential areas, will be evacuated at a later date and time. Citizens are advised to remain indoors and keep eco use to a minimum. Emergency rations will be delivered upon availability until the evacuation process begins.'" Keira looked up to see Torn put his head in his hands. Tess huffed indignantly.

"So Jinx is right," she scoffed. "Fuck us."

"Uh, 'us'? Pfft." Jinx rolled his eyes. "You live in the port, you'll be fine."

"Don't you live in New Haven?" Keira retorted.

Jinx snorted. "Yeah, only 'cause no amount of money could get my petty ass out of the water slums. Let my face ruin their pretty aesthetics."

"Knock it off." There was no force in Torn's voice as he lifted his head. "There has to be a reason for this. Ashelin isn't perfect, but…she wouldn't just leave citizens to die."

"Mmm, yeah, she would never." Keira folded her arms. "Just ask Jak and Daxter."

Torn clapped his hands together. "Alright, one step at a time. Keira, does Samos know about this?"

"I didn't tell Daddy, and he doesn't usually read the bulletins."

"Go break the news," Torn said grimly. "He might be focused on the Dark Makers, but we could use his insight as the Shadow."

"Right." Keira closed her communicator and headed for the door. "I'll see you guys later. And…if you hear from Ashelin…"

"I'll keep you in the loop," Torn assured her. She nodded and left, so he turned to Jinx. "You still friends with Mog's crew?"

"'Course I am," Jinx said haughtily. "Best damn thieves in the city."

"Think they can break into the council's archives?" Torn pressed. "I know Ashelin has tried to pass motions to help people in the slums. We could use that to counter this."

"Sure, I guess. Don't know why you're tryin' so hard to defend her, though. If you ask me," he added, heading to the exit, "Red's burnt her bridges. So I'll help you, but I ain't doin' it for her. She ain't worth it."

Torn and Tess both stared at each other as the door closed behind him. In the stillness of the hideout, Tess said quietly, "He's right."

"Don't start," Torn said darkly. "I don't agree with her letting Jak get banished, but this is different."

"You're right, it is different," Tess agreed. "Jak can take care of himself, and she did help him. But how do you explain this?" She gestured to the communicator. "This document has her name on it, Torn."

"I know. I know." He stood up and grabbed his blaster. "Let me talk to her. She has to have a reason. Maybe it's not finished or something."

Tess opted not to remind him that the document had an official stamp of approval, or that it was dated from months ago. Instead, she just said, "I'll try to spread the word that we're looking into it. Maybe I can stop people from panicking."

Torn nodded. "Thanks. And can you do something else for me?"

"Sure."

"Let them know that…if anything happened, the Underground would do everything we can to get them out." Torn sighed. "Just so they know."

"Of course." Tess flashed a smile at him. "Listen, these people have been through worse. Ashelin will always be better than her old man."

Torn gave a dry chuckle at that and headed out the door. Tess sighed and took his place at the desk.

"Alright," she said to the empty room. "Time for some damage control."

The infirmary wasn't too bad of a place to work, all things considered.

It was definitely better than scrubbing Samos' floors, that was sure. Better company, too.

"Hand me the lavender oil." Damas held out his hand and caught the bottle that Daxter tossed to him. "Thank you."

The place had been pretty quiet, leaving Daxter and Damas to get to work making the burn salve. Luckily for Daxter, Damas took the lead on that one. He was sitting at the counter, carefully measuring out oils and powders and mixing them into vials. Daxter was in charge of running around and grabbing things, which suited him just fine.

Damas was a pretty quiet guy. Not, of course, that Daxter was bothered by it. Hell, his best buddy still didn't talk much. And it wasn't like Daxter had expected the Wastelander King to be great at small talk.

"She's taking longer than I expected," Damas commented at one point, frowning.

"You worried about her?" Daxter asked. He started to brew some coffee, pulling down a pair of mugs from the cabinet. "Don't be. Ashelin's harmless."

"Harmless though she may be," he said sternly, "she is in dire straits right now. If she is trying to get Jak to return to Haven City, who knows what she may say or do?"

Daxter tilted his head. He was pretty good at seeing through people's masks, and Damas definitely had one on. If he didn't know any better, he'd say the old man seemed nervous behind the calm facade. For not the first time, Daxter tamped down the urge to ask him a few very awkward, personal questions.

But, then, when had Daxter ever been afraid of awkward questions?

"So, uh, I've been wondering." He leaned against the wall, sipping his coffee as Damas put the medications back in the cabinet. "How come you and Mama Monk aren't an item anymore?"

Damas fumbled the last vial, barely managing to catch it before it hit the counter. He exhaled a breath and glared at Daxter. "You have no tact, do you?"

"Ha! Duckin' the question, huh?" Daxter swirled his mug absent-mindedly. "C'mon, no judgment here. Why'd you two split?"

Damas sighed and sat down on the stool. "...Because I was foolish," he said after a moment of hesitation. "Because I took out my own failures on all of Spargus."

"Uh, you're gonna have to be more specific than that," Daxter told him.

"My son was taken," Damas explained, "because I let my guard down. A group of men snuck into the palace and attacked us, and I was unable to protect him. So when I recovered, I…I made some decisions that weren't the best."

"Like what?" Daxter pressed. He poured a mug of coffee and slid it over to the king. "You can tell me. I keep Jak's secrets!"

"It's not a secret, just a mistake." Damas took a sip of the coffee. "Ionna went to Haven City to find our son. While she was gone, I was a bit…overzealous about the city's protection."

Damas paused and Daxter waited. Silence had a reason, and Daxter knew when not to break it. Finally, the older man continued, "Back then, earning your citizenship was based on the good of the city. If you performed missions to provide for Spargus, you were rewarded with parts of an amulet."

"Like Keira," Daxter interjected. "So people didn't always have to fight, huh?"

"No. But I tried to change the laws, so that all citizens had to fight in the arena." Damas fidgeted with his fingers, almost like Jak sometimes did when he was embarrassed. "I wanted to make every single person in the city show that they could fight. In my mind, it was the only way to keep us safe."

"I'll bet that went over like a lead Lurker balloon."

Damas snorted back laughter. "You're not wrong. The council was…not pleased. I got into quite a few shouting matches with members before Sig took matters into his own hands. He went to Haven and convinced Ionna to return to…in his words, 'put my head on straight.'"

"Didn't work," Daxter commented cheerfully. Damas narrowed his eyes. "Don't give me that look! You're still crazier than a pack of rabbid kangarats!"

Damas rolled his eyes, but continued his story. "When Ionna returned, she said she would allow the law to pass, with one provision. I had to be the first to fight in the arena, and she wanted to be the one to fight me."

Daxter hissed through his teeth. "Beat your ass, didn't she?"

"Soundly." Damas didn't sound happy to be admitting it. "Though if I may defend myself, I had just been impaled by a spear not long before that."

Daxter waved his paw. "I'm hearin' a lot of excuses."

"The council ended up compromising with me: they'd agree that all newcomers would have to go through arena trials. Current citizens kept their citizenship with no extra trials." He drained the rest of the coffee and sighed. "Ionna and another advisor left the council in protest, but I…I am a hard-headed man."

"Whaaat?!" Daxter covered his mouth in mock shock. "No! Not you!"

"Funny," Damas said dryly. "Are you ever serious?"

"Once every third Tuesday."

"Right." Damas drained the rest of the coffee. "Well, you know the rest of the story. I kept the arena in place, even as others advised me against it, and Ionna has kept her distance since."

"'Til Jak showed up," Daxter reminded him. Damas glanced over at the bed where Jak was laid up.

"Yes," he said warmly, a slight smile curling his lips. "Until Jak showed up."

When Ashelin arrived back in Haven City, Torn was already waiting for her.

She lived in a high-rise apartment just down the street from Freedom HQ. It was clean and modern, with a state of the art security system, a host of useful amenities, and even a coffee shop in the lobby. Her plan was to revitalize the entire city like this, eventually.

Of course, she had to win the war, first.

Not everyone had been on board with the plan. Jinx, in particular, had ranted and raved for days about how when rent went up, people would be pushed out. But that was temporary, she'd explained. The goal was to raise wages to match, but the council wouldn't approve that yet.

Ever, Jinx had argued stubbornly.

Still, she'd plowed ahead with the project, hoping to prove everyone wrong. Then the palace had been destroyed, and Jak had been banished, and everything had gone to shit.

Ashelin wouldn't admit it, but she was happy to see Torn waiting for her, even though he looked madder than hell itself. She'd been afraid he'd never speak to her again after he'd quit.

"We need to talk," he said shortly, before she could even get a word in edgewise.

"Well hello to you, too." She slid her keycard and opened the door. "Come in."

Torn stepped in behind her. She poured them both some coffee and they sat at her table. "So what's up?" she asked, forcing her voice to stay even. Act like nothing had happened between them.

"Did you read the bulletin for today?"

"I approve all of them," she answered. "Why?"

He slid his communicator over to her. "Read it," he said shortly. "Then tell me again that you approved this."

Ashelin skimmed over it. Her eyes narrowed as she did, before she set the communicator down. "This was supposed to be confidential."

"Well, it's not anymore," Torn said bluntly. "Everyone in the city has seen this by now."

"This is all Veger's doing," she said bitterly. "He leaked this while I was out of the city, so that he has ammo to take to the council."

"You're still talking about the fucking council?" Torn slammed his hand on the table. "For fuck's sake, Ash, don't you get it? The people are blaming you. You signed it, you approved it!"

"Because I had to!" Ashelin snapped back. "We can't evacuate everyone at once, Torn, there's too many people!" She exhaled to calm down, lowering her voice. "...New Haven has an easy escape route, through the Pumping Station. I thought, they would be easiest to get out quickly. And the port already has transportation built into it," she added. "The slums is going to be hard to evacuate. I wasn't planning to abandon them, I just knew it would take more time."

"But you see how this looks, right?" Torn gestured to the communicator. "This looks like the same class warfare the Baron pulled."

"And it doesn't matter anyway," Ashelin threw out. "This is all hypothetical, Torn, it's a last resort. You think I want to abandon the city?"

"You think the people who live in the slums care?" he retorted. "This doesn't look so hypothetical to the people you plan on leaving behind."

She took a gulp of her coffee. "It's not a big deal," she said dismissively. "The council is the one I had to negotiate with to write this plan. They all live in New Haven, anyway. I don't even know why Veger thought this would sway them to his side."

"You don't get it!" Torn exploded. "I'm not worried about the damned council!" He stood up and gestured to the windows. "There are thousands of people in the slums. They outnumber the Freedom League five-to-one, and now they have proof that you're willing to abandon them."

"I'm not going to abandon them," she defended, but he cut her off.

"How long do you think until they turn on you?" Torn continued, undeterred. "You're worried about being kicked out of power, I'm worried about you being shot!"

Ashelin stood up, too, slamming her hands on the table. "I didn't ask you to be worried about me," she snapped. "I can take care of myself!"

"You know what? I don't even know why I came here." Torn held up his hands in surrender. "You do things your way, and I'll do them mine."

He turned and left, slamming the door on the way out. Ashelin stood there, fuming in the silence, terrified and angry.

She wasn't her father. She just wasn't. The people who she'd spent her life defending, protecting, they wouldn't turn on her like they did him.

Right?