I said, 150 people! There's nearly 200 here!"

Jinx took a drag off of his cigar. "Yeah, well, I wasn't really countin', was I?" He gestured around the bar as he blew out a puff of smoke. "Besides, looks like they got plenty o' room to me."

Tess folded her arms and pursed her lips angrily. 'Plenty' of room was pushing it in her opinion: every square inch of the bar was frilled. There were people sitting on every surface of the place, from the tables to the bar itself. Every child under the age of five was being held by someone, and teenagers were sitting cross-legged on the console in the center.

Still, they'd managed to clear out the Port before those guards came through. Tess had heard them, running and shouting, occasionally shooting at buildings nearby. Lucky that Krew had that defense system.

The guards were gone, but no one seemed to trust it. Tess didn't blame them.

"Don't smoke in here," Tess snapped, pulling the cigar out of Jinx's mouth. He sputtered in protest. "There are kids in here now. Go up on the roof if you want to smoke."

Jinx grumbled his complaints, but headed for the stairs that led up there. Tess sighed and headed back behind the bar, pushing her way through the crowd.

She had no idea how long this would last, but until she heard from Torn, she wasn't about to let people just go home. Who knew what would happen?

She went into the pantry and started to pull out food. It was mostly bar food, but it was better than nothing. She yanked out some pretzels and chips and handed them to an older woman who was standing near the bar. "Here. Pass these around. No idea how long we're going to be here."

The woman looked surprised. "You want payment?"

Tess shrugged. "It's not like I'm worried about making money right now. Just pass them around."

As the woman thanked her and turned away, Tess heard someone bang on the door. A murmur of fear went through the crowd, but then Tess' communicator sparked to life.

"Tess! Tess, it's me, open up!"

Tess breathed a sigh of relief and hit the button under the bar. The door unlatched and opened, revealing Keira. The door shut and locked behind her with another hit of the button.

"Geez," Keira said, peering around, "did you manage to fit everyone in here?"

"Blame Jinx," Tess complained, though she wasn't really angry. Keira went around to the bar and sat on a box. "So what happened? I haven't heard anything from Torn yet."

"All he knows is that some KG opened fire without any orders." Keira's face was dark. "He thinks it was Veger."

Tess sighed. "Well, at least it wasn't Ashelin."

"I'll bet that Veger planned it out," Keira continued. "He went down to the catacombs after Jak, and suddenly half the guards are using brute force on the Slums? That doesn't sound like a coincidence."

"Well, whatever's going on," Tess replied, "we need to figure out how to get all these people home. Is it safe yet?"

Keira shook her head. "I guess the guards disappeared, but Torn thinks there's more out there. He's rounding up the KG who didn't decide to massacre people and having them do patrols."

Tess looked out into the bar and sighed. "And here I thought the hard part was over."

Driving a buggy with a broken leg, Jak was finding out, was a lot more difficult than he'd expected.

Still, he managed, jerkily accelerating and braking, trying to avoid jostling his splint. It hurt to move too much, and the weird way he had to twist his hip to hit the pedals wasn't helping.

Jak barreled through the ruins, ignoring enemies in favor of speed. Damas was still alive, but Jak wasn't so sure how long he would last. He'd wrapped the gunshot wound in a spare tunic he'd had and set Daxter on the job of applying pressure to it.

"How's he doing?" Jak shouted over the roar of the engine. Daxter hesitated to answer. "That bad?!"

"He's all cold," Daxter replied. "Clammy and stuff. And his pulse is all weird."

"That's shock, Dax." Jak felt like Ionna was speaking through him, reminding him of all the patients he'd seen her work on. "We need to hurry."

"Yeah, well, you're the one drivin'!" Daxter's voice was a little too high pitched for Jak to take his response as a joke. "Step on it!"

Jak backtracked all the way to where they'd met Damas and skidded to a stop. "Dammit!"

"What's wrong?" Daxter asked anxiously, looking around.

"I can't get the buggy back the way we came," Jak snarled, slamming his hand on the steering wheel. "By the time we get him back to Haven…"

"Maybe you oughta fly!" Daxter said frantically. "Yeah, yeah, we fly up over the city and get inside that way!"

Jak huffed out a dark laugh. "C'mon, Dax. You've seen me fly before."

Daxter deflated. "Yeah, that was a stupid idea."

Jak put his head in his arms over the steering wheel. "There has to be something we can do…"

"Maybe…maybe there's a warp gate around here!" Daxter's faux-optimism didn't do much, but Jak appreciated the attempt. "Yeah! I'll bet there's something left from the palace, and then we can fix it up!"

Jak turned his head to face Daxter and Damas. "Yeah, like we're going to be able to teleport out of…here…"

Jak sat up suddenly, the idea coming to him. The entire way down here, with every metal head he'd shot, every Dark Maker the Slam Dozer hit, every inch forward, he'd collected dark eco. He was out of light eco, but he had a surplus of dark eco.

"Seem can teleport," he whispered. Daxter blinked at him, then suddenly yelped. "Dax, Seem can teleport!"

"That means you probably can, too!" Daxter rubbed his paws together. "Now how do we do it?"

"I have no idea." Jak hauled himself out of the buggy, ignoring the pain in his leg. He limped over to the passenger's side and picked up Damas. The man was heavy, and trying to balance his prone body while on a broken leg was not fun. Jak had to lean against the buggy to keep upright. "Okay…maybe I can brute force it."

"Yeah, that always works." Daxter rolled his eyes. "Where are we heading, anyway?"

"Samos is probably at Freedom HQ." Jak grunted with the effort of holding Damas. Daxter hopped onto his shoulder. "Hold on, Dax."

Jak closed his eyes and exhaled. He pulled on the dark eco, slowly and trying to keep it from overwhelming him. He kept his breath even and steady.

At first, nothing. He tried to imagine what it would feel like to teleport somewhere else, to be somewhere else. You can't do it, his mind taunted him. You could never control it.

"You got this, buddy," Daxter cheered. "C'mon, Jak!"

Something in his chest flared up, dark and inviting. Something that told him if he concentrated on where he was going, he'd get there.

He imagined the control room of HQ, with its blue lights and gleaming metals. Right in the middle of New Haven, with all the waterways and fountains and newly planted trees…

Suddenly, Jak felt like he was spinning. Almost like he'd gone through a teleporter, but worse. He was free-falling into nothingness. He heard Daxter make a noise of surprise.

His feet hit solid ground. He fell immediately, not able to keep upright, still holding Damas. The weight of the older man's body knocked all the air out of his lungs. He opened his eyes and looked straight up.

Zoomers. Chugging across the dark sky, while the murmur of people rose to his ears.

"It worked!" Daxter was already up, shouting excitedly. "I knew ya could do it, Jak, never doubted you for a minute, except for all the minutes I wasn't sure about it."

Jak sat up, groaning as he shifted Damas off of him. "Geez, that hurt…"

He glanced around. They were in New Haven, though they hadn't quite made it to the Freedom HQ building. They'd landed in the middle of the walkway. There were only a few people around this late at night, heading home after a long day. Jak reached over and checked on Damas.

"He's still alright." The king was pale and cold, but he was still breathing. The wound that Jak had wrapped up was still open and bleeding. "But we need to get him to Samos as soon as possible."

"Uh, buddy, you ain't getting him anywhere right now." Daxter nudged his leg. "Lemme go see if I can find old Fungal Face." He took off, running through the streets.

Jak reached over the grabbed the bloody tunic. He put pressure on Damas' wound again, watching the way the dark red soaked through the fabric.

"Don't worry," he told the unconscious man. "I'm going to get us both back home safe. I promise."

Ashelin got back to Freedom HQ late, after spending the past hour or two chasing down a group of guards who had, apparently, vanished. She opened the door and wasn't the slightest bit surprised to see Torn waiting for her.

"I didn't have anything to do with this," she insisted. "Torn, you know I'd never do something like this."

"Yeah, I know." Torn had his head in his hands at the table. "But you need to do something, Ash. People are scared. Hell, this is worse than the Baron. This was…"

"I know." They grew quiet and then Ashelin sighed. "I don't know what to do anymore. I feel like…I'm spinning plates. There's metal heads and Dark Makers and now this…it's too much."

She sat down next to him. "We sheltered the Slums and the Port in place," Torn told her. "I'm working with the rest of the KG to set up patrols in case those nutjobs come back."

Ashelin glared at him. "You aren't the commander anymore," she argued. "You can't just give out orders like that!"

"Well, you weren't doing anything," he snapped back. "Meanwhile, I've got dead bodies lying on my doorstep, Tess has most of the Port stuffed into her bar, and the citizens are terrified."

"What am I supposed to do?" she shot back. "I'm trying to find those responsible for this tragedy!"

"Do you hear yourself?" Torn demanded, standing up angrily. "You sound like a politician! This isn't a press conference, Ashelin, you can't talk your way out of it. It's not a tragedy, it's a coup—"

"That's why I have to stop it!" Ashelin stood up, too, squaring up to him. "I don't have time to pat people's heads and tell them everything will be alright!"

"Have you forgotten who lives in the damn city? It's not just walls and buildings, it's people, people who rely on you to keep them safe!" Torn slammed both his palms on the table. "And if you don't speak to them, then your silence speaks for you! Why should they think you've done anything except abandon them?"

Ashelin opened her mouth, but stopped herself. She sighed and sunk back into the chair, tilting her head back. Torn sat down again and sighed with her.

"...I'm sorry," Ashelin said. "I'm sorry, I never meant…any of this. I just…I tried so hard to be a better ruler than my father. To prove that I could do it, and I…I don't think I can, Torn."

Torn hesitated, then reached out and covered her hand with his own. "I'll help you," he said quietly. "All of us will, Ashelin, you just…you can't push us all away like this. You can't sit back and stay quiet when people treat your friends badly, Ash, or they're not going to be your friends for very much longer."

Ashelin huffed out a laugh. Torn squeezed her hand and she squeezed back. "You're so right. I owe a lot of people apologies…"

Before Torn could respond, the door opened behind them. He tilted his head to see who it was.

"Hey! Either of you two seen Samos around?" Daxter skidded to a stop in front of them. He eyed their hands on the table. "Uh…am I interrupting something?"

"Shut up," Ashelin snapped, but Daxter had already moved on.

"We need Samos!" he said anxiously. "Jak's hurt and so's a buddy of ours! You gotta get the old man down here fast so he can patch 'em up!"

Torn straightened and pulled his hand back. "What the hell happened?" he asked.

"I'll tell ya the story later!" Daxter barked. "Get Samos!"

Ashelin pulled out her communicator and called for Samos. Torn stood up and asked, "Where's Jak now?"

"Lyin' in the middle of the sidewalk." Daxter nodded to the elevator. "Let's go get him!"

"Samos is on his way," Ashelin said. "Come on, we'll go get Jak and your friend back here."

"You two are lifesavers!" Daxter scrambled up onto Torn's shoulder, much to his annoyance. "I'll lead the way."

Sig, meanwhile, was having a hell of a time getting to the center of the planet.

"Damned piece of junk!" He maneuvered the car along the side of the road made of Precursor pipes, narrowly avoiding a pit that led to nothingness. He'd never been the best at driving, but he'd been passable. But this thing drove like the most sensitive zoomer he'd ever been on. "Ugh!"

He wavered between some electricity beams. Everything gave way to a surreal darkness and finally, thank the Precursors, he made it. There was a brightly lit platform, with a giant Precursor statue on it. If that wasn't the center of the planet, he didn't know what was.

Sig slid out of the car and onto the platform. There was some kind of weird device in the center. It looked like a perfect fit for the Eco Sphere he'd hauled down here.

"Where is the hero we have called for?" The voice boomed from the statue in front of him. "Who are you?"

"I'm the sub-in hero," Sig said. "Jak couldn't make it, so I'm here for him." He set the Eco Sphere into the spot where it belonged. The metal around him began to move.

"The eco sphere has begun its conversion. The planetary defense system will take some time to charge."

"Booyah, baby!" Sig folded his arms and grinned. "Now, what happens next?"

"Next, I return to the surface." Out of the shadows came Veger, gun in hand and pointed directly at Sig. "Alone. Tragically, you won't be able to return to your friends. So sorry. But I have a city to run."

He pulled the trigger. The gun was aimed at Sig's chest, right in the center, and Veger did not miss. The shot hit him squarely where he anticipated.

It hit, and Sig grunted, falling backwards. With a ping, the bullet ricocheted off Sig's armor and hit one of the metal pillars. He landed hard on his back.

And started laughing.

Sig gave one last wheezy laugh as he stood up. There was a dent in the armor, and Sig's chest ached with the force of the hit, but he was still standing.

"Please, you think you're going to hurt me with that little pea-shooter? I wear the finest stuff in the entire Wasteland." He thumped his fist on his armor, the metal ringing. "Gonna take more than that to get to me."

Veger stepped backwards, his face twisted in an angry sneer. He cocked the gun again. "You think a gunshot is the end of it. I will be the light that saves the planet, purging it of the darkness! And you will be the first to go!"

"Buddy, you better worry about being a scorch-mark when I get done with you." Sig pointed his Peacemaker at Veger. The noble's face visibly paled. "I was real happy to come down here after you. You got until I count to three to spill your guts about Mar."

"Mar?" Veger narrowed his eyes. "Ah, the hero. Unfortunately, his lineage hasn't quite produced the same caliber of man, has it? Your king can't even survive a single shot."

"One!" Sig let off a shot of electricity right beside Veger. The man jumped about three feet in the air. "Damas ain't dead, you dumb ass pond scum. And I wasn't talkin' about Mar the hero. I'm talkin' about Mar, the goofy little kid. I'm talkin' about Damas' son."

"…What?" Veger gained some of his swagger back. "Ah. Of course. Well, my exiled friend, if you kill me, you won't be able to find the little prince."

"Two!" Sig shot again, this time right above Veger's head, causing him to fall into a crouching position, hands over his head. The gun skittered across the ground. "Or I can kill you, and I'll figure out where Mar is myself." He charged the Peacemaker and pointed it at Veger. "I get the feeling that you wanna live more than I wanna shoot you. Maybe not much more, though. Two and a half."

A strike of energy blasted both Sig and Veger onto the ground. The great idol above them spoke in its deep voice.

"Enough. We have more important issues to address. Put aside your petty arguments for the good of the planet."

Sig watched as Veger scrambled to his feet and ran off somewhere. Coward. He turned his gaze to the Precursors as they continued.

"Before the weapon charges, we must ensure it is not too late. Erol may have already awoken the Dark Maker ship's cargo. If that happens, all hope is lost."

"Don't tell me," Sig said, annoyed. "You want me to go off and make sure that doesn't happen."

"If you were truly chosen by our hero, then you will succeed in this challenge." A teleporting ring opened behind him. "We will send you to the ship. Go, and save your world."

"Fine, fine." Sig shouldered his Peacemaker and headed for the ring. "But after this, Jak takes over the heroics again, hear me?"

As he ran for the teleporter, Veger slunk off, back towards the cars to the surface.

I'm breaking a few hearts here, but there will be no ottsel-based Precursor shenanigans in this fic. As absolutely hilarious as it would be for Sig to be the one who sees Veger become ottselized, I hate that plot twist too much. I firmly believe those little rats are running some sort of scam and aren't the real Precursors.