Let that fire burn

[Jak Mar]

Jak and his friends had taken the time to arrive at the sprawling city of Coruscant within a few hours. When they did arrive, they arrived on the most beautiful part of the city, and the most clean part so far.

The Commander stared around the beautiful buildings and kept quiet, no need to attract attention just yet especially if your friends just happened to be the ones who were in DA themselves. Torn kept things quiet as he stared at the white guards who just happened to be walking by. They happened to be giving them strange stares, especially at Jak.

The stormtroopers had reminded him of a old job he had done many years ago. A Krimzon guard commander. Except these people wore no red helmets, no red or blue armor. He was not that Commander of the Freedom guard no more since Omni had taken him here.

Daxter had taken his annoying time, insisting on exploring the city but it was Jak's job to watch his friend not his.

Daxter scampered through the city eventually running into a stormtrooper.

"Halt, isn't that Daxter, that friend of Jak's from DA? I heard of that Jak.... he made it farther than people expected.. He killed quite a few people."

Oh the perks of being famous around a lot of worlds...

And that was sarcastic...

Jak stared around and noticed a pair of stormtroopers looking down at Daxter and frowning.

"HALT"

That sound wasn't good. Jak ran and grabbed Daxter and the mess began. The stormtroopers began to shoot on command and Torn made sure the three of them got out alright.

"You alright guys?"

"Yeah, thanks Torn. Owe ya one later."

Jak used some omninum to summon his blaster and a few minutes it arrived in his hand. It was always better to be prepared also in bad situations Dark Jak could be used only if necessary though.

Daxter groaned What the heck was that all about?!

Jak sighed "It's my DA fame, i'm somewhat famous around everywhere."

[Gildarts]

Upon Kindal's face, a scowl burrowed, embedding deep in the wrinkles and fine lines that crumpled together. His premature age was directly associated to the constant of stress that struck him whenever he looked over his shoulder, which was frequently. His anticipating dread came from the Prime, Gildarts, who had truly shown him what it meant to be wrong. A million fists with a scalding ease of temper was enough to show Kindal he had made a mistake. Not the one where he tricked people into getting what he wanted, but the one where he had been caught.

He still felt the sore bruises covering his body. And he was convinced his ribs hadn't formed right when they had grown back into place, of this he was sure each time he took a shaky breath. After Dante's Abyss had been a success, Kindal had not received the promotion, nor had he gotten Karl's attention. Instead, what he had received was: One limited edition Dante's Abyss pen! Two free t-shirts with a picture of the BFG pointed outward at whatever person he walked by, above it written in rolling steam was "Doomguy's Gonna Kick Yer' Ass!" and a Luffy action figure that extended as though it were made from rubber, when you pressed his hat, he used his catchphrase. While the quality of the memorabilia was remarkable, it was too bad that all of it reminded him of his failure.

Kindal had also received a complimentary square of land in one of the lower tiers, probably because it was cheap, but he wasn't complaining if he could sell it for a good profit. As he made his way down, he floated in a hover car and descended from his top position on the gleaming throne that was Coruscant.

[Jak Mar]

Daxter sort of remarked as he was put back on Jak's shoulder "Great, these guys are just as annoying as those Krimzon guards back home, even though they are sort of on our side now. Daxter sweat dropped as Torn gave him a dirty look and Daxter sort of tried to piss the Commander off.

Jak just ignored the two as he held the blaster in his hand. The two stormtroopers were dead trying to shoot on command. Jak was only trying to protect himself and Daxter and Torn, and these two just shot without asking questions first.

Torn summoned another gun and for a bit, it came and landed in his hand without a second thought. Torn frowned "[color=#FF0000]Great, how we going to explain ourselves out of this mess?

Daxter said "I hate being "known", Jak." He facepalmed.

Jak growled and said to Daxter "Keep running guys, more stormtroopers are ought to be coming. Luckily Jak could run fast or the people running this city probably would of caught up to them.

Right?

Spoke too soon, more stormtroopers. Jak loaded his blaster, and Torn loaded his newly summoned gun, and placed his dagger away.

"HALT! In the order of the city of Couresant, you are under arrest for the killing of two stormtroopers!"

Before they could do anything, there was chaos. Jak shoot more bullets from his blaster and Torn did the same thing,

The stormtroopers heard this as their last worlds "Come'n Dax!"

Jak placed away his gun and ran toward a building and made sure Torn couldn't see what he was going to turn into:

RAWRRRRGH!!!!

The monster known as Dark Jak had arrived, horns jutted out from Jak's head, and long black claws formed. Sharp dark eco lightning cracked from the man's body, and Dark Jak had no mercy to show to the soldiers in white.

[Gildarts]

The chamber of Kindal's car gently shook and the Coruscantian grabbed the nearest bar to stabilize himself. He had braced from the jolting motion and his eyes flashed to the driver, holding cold menace within.

"I apologize for the slight turbulence sir, seems we must've hit a wind pocket or something."

"We're surrounded by buildings and in the middle of the city! There's no wind he-whoa whoaa!!"

Kindal was distracted from chastising the poor driver as the elite technology's wheel was spun, and spun, and spun. Red lights flashed, alert buttons beeped, and an electronic voice flashed on a colorful holographic monitor. It was as if the entire craft had turned on him.

"Initiating autopilot... Autopilot activated."

"What are you- Mad?" Kindal growled in disbelief, the entire car was flipped upside down and swirled into a vortex in the air.

The suited man reached over for the controls, he wasn't going to die here! The struggle as he pulled the wheel that would not budge, was hopeless, meanwhile the prepared driver had strapped himself in and braced for the fall.

His eyes gave another once-over to his customer before he pulled the auto-eject and his seat shot out of the car, making it off-balanced so it only spun even more out of proportion.

Kindal's hand searched for his eject lever in the same areas he had seen the driver's hand go, but there was no button to press, any hope for escape was fleeting fast, as his red hover car rode in blazing speed downward, falling... Falling... Until finally a burst of white and time hung suspended in the bustling city-air. A thunderous shockwave erupted from the impact as the elite hovercraft crashed into the side of a building.

Glass and debris ruptured and stuck in everywhere the eye could see, but amongst the action that was soon to come, the explosion of shards would blend right in.

[Gildarts]

Spinning, spinning, spinning darkness. Riveting reality dizzied in his mind as the ringing in his ears demanded a familiar throbbing in his head. His hands met the back of his head while thick blood trickled down his forehead and dribbled from his eyebrow. The smear-stained face of Kindal, the smarmy Coruscantian bastard, as he slowly awoke and found himself suspended in the hovercraft, held by the dense ribbons of gravity technology, that worked as an extra airbag. It was too bad that the driver did not share the same post-concussion fate.

As Kindal's brown eyes turned to the man, they widened out of shock and slight fear of the inevitable. His eventual inevitable.

Kindal saw it. The horror shot through him like venom. Death, such an abstract concept, suddenly became so fathomable. Glass shards layered the man's face that dribbled with still-warm blood onto his cheap commoner clothes. Kindal's suit was ruined, splattered with the same drying scarlet as the white collar of his suit became crimson. His head wound made him forget, his memories became fleeting as he grasped his current situation. The sound of a stream filled his ears. It brought his flinging thoughts into a still quell.

What was that smell? Gasoline?

SHIT.

He hastened to disengage anything that would release him from his suspension in the air. The anti-gravity lock was soon to mean his death. He reached from his place on the screen, the small cabin wasn't much to bounce off of, however the windows of the cars had been crumpled, and the doors were nothing but mangled pulp. Too narrow was the space even for the slim man to slip through, even if he somehow managed to get free.

His arm strained to do anything but reach for the button-less screen. It was intact, somehow if he managed to click the brightly lit button that would deactivate the lock, he would have a chance at escape. As if the sound of running gasoline in his ears wasn't enough, he suddenly heard the ebbing bursts of blaster fire.

They're coming.

Shrill fear gripped his stomach as his ligaments burned, the flesh of his shoulder grated against air, and his throbbing head rained blood onto the cabin floor.

Kindal saw the flash, his life, suddenly, it became so vacant, empty, he had used people to get what he wanted, yet it had never made him happy, and it would never make him free. Stains filled the ground as his reddened face tensed and grimaced with effort.

It's not over.

He convinced himself as the dissatisfying taste in his mouth became his last motivator. Bread and circus, it was no way to live a life. The smolder of fire soon began to heat the internal chamber of the car. Kindal would soon either be slow-cooked and burnt to a crisp or explode with the igniting tank of gas.

A hallucination interrupted his reach. With a start he jumped as he saw the auburn-haired man's face, and felt the memory of the colliding crash of the man's fist with his cheek. It delivered no pain yet it was the only real thing Kindal had experienced in a long time. Gildarts. Yes, that had been the the Prime's name. What was it the man had said? "You'll get what is coming to you, if you don't first change your ways."

Kindal had thought it was a bluff, but now, he remarked at the man's wisdom and again the force of the blow that had been landed on his cheek.

His fingertips caressed a surface both smooth and flat, Kindal's hand had reached the glass and before he could brace himself, his entire body smashed into the ground. His ribs shook as they tried for air.

In a violent scramble, he was able to crawl over the driver's body and into freedom. Into his forearms dug small glass daggers, as his expensive shoe soles reached the ground, his heels dug into the tar and he put as much distance between the flaming car as possible.

His sore feet carried him to a scene he did not expect. Kindal hadn't escaped, he realized, as he was delivered to another blaze of battle. Jak accompanied by Daxter and Torn. The Prime, he recognized from Dante's Abyss were battling some storm troopers. We're his eyes tricking him? So close was Kindal to insanity that he rubbed his eyes incessantly and expected the image change, with no avail. The white-clad soldiers began to fall one-by-one and something like an explosion shook the grounds between them, and they were able to escape. They appeared to have vanished in the direction that lead to the Endless Dunes.

The explosion capsized the entire city block and sent dusty rocks into his perfectly gelled brown and crimson-stained hair. The suited man fell into the ground and covered his wounded head, smudging his hair into a sideways vertical angle.

His body groaned from the ferocious impact, weight that pounded against hard cement with the fall. Rubble clattered overhead and accumulated with gray dust on his back. A frozen yet everlasting moment passed until the sound of crashing walls became no more.

A disoriented and suited man rose from the remains of the city-block. Kindal's flashy tux had become white with powered ash. His scratched and skin-torn hands ruffled the fabric, yet, it seemed his resurrection from death had brought him back with a new color. His flashy smile turned into a scoff, "Tch."

His stride carried him and his weak knees past a few storm troopers, that crowded the scene as they looked for survivors while they were armed and aimed their brandished laser rifles to the hidden chucks of dull rubble. Somehow, Kindal was able to stride right past them, city-slicker or maybe the cams of their helmets didn't pick him up as anything more than another rock to peruse past.

Kindal's foot crushed the gravel beneath him, yet, in a single fleeting second, a flash of blue spark zapped into the Stormtrooper's helmet. The businessman's eyes fell on the trooper, who began to clutch his helmet and fall. Kindal's heart began to beat faster. A sense of danger stirred in his bones. RUN.

The man ran as far from the debris as possible and the sound of his clacking leather shoes filled the empty and death-filled streets.

The video feed the soldier received became static.

"Hey, man, you seeing this?" The trooper with an electric blue hue on his helmet asked his companion.

"What's that Smith? Seeing what? This massive crater we are gonna have to clean up? Damn Primes. What are we, their maid service?"

"No man, I'm blind, my feed is hella scrambled. Maybe it's interference?"

"What?" He chuckled, "Great excuse, but if you think I'll be cleaning up this mess without you, you're dead wrong."

"Seriously, I can't see a thing."

"Oh, well, uh, take off your helmet, there shouldn't be too much dust left to inhale." The spoils of destruction had settled.

"Yeah, you're right." The stormtrooper admitted reluctantly as his black gloves released the grip from his blaster and clutched the sides of his helmet.

A paralyzing pain shot through the soldier's spine before the crippled man fell to his white knees. Agony crushed against his scull and the deafening static filled the speakers of his helmet.

"Matt, MATT! What- What is it?" The trooper's friend shook the man's shoulder.

But nothing was getting past the blasting white sound from his speakers. The same sound soon became drowned out by the trooper's lasting scream.

Crippled and clutching the skull of his helmet was the man who had sunken to the ground, able to fathom only the pain of his torn and razed body. Stormtrooper Smith's only release became the distant sound of the cry of his voice.

"AHHHHH!"