//------------------------------//
// Interlude: Tense Conversations 
// Story: Sons of Damas 
// by Tatsurou 
//------------------------------//

	Elsewhere in the city, a very different, much more serious conversation had begun, one with only two participants.  Two leaders of the city, determining its fate through deep discussion of both the past and the future.

"It's time for that talk I mentioned, Praxus," Jak stated firmly.  "I know why it happened, so we don't need to go into motivations...but details of events are important.  What, exactly, happened to my father?"  Though he did his best to keep himself under control, a growl entered his voice, his lip peeling back over fangs of its own accord.  Steadying himself, he leaned against a pillar in the Palace throne room, struggling to limit visible hostility to a steady gaze.

"There's no need to hold your anger back, Jak," Praxus stated softly.  "Whether Kor was messing with my thoughts or not, my decisions were still my own, and I will take full responsibility for them.  If the consequences of my actions are your eternal hatred, or even death by your hands...I will accept them.  I know you'll do what's best for the city, and the world."  He closed his eyes as he sat in a chair he'd brought in for this discussion, despite Jak's refusal to sit on the throne as Praxus insisted was the young man's right.

Jak glared at Praxus until his gaze softened.  "Just get talking already," he grumbled, upset that his own logical thought was robbing him of motivation to hate the Baron.

Praxus nodded.  "As you know, in preparation for the coup, I reassigned Ashelin.  The goal was to overthrow Damas quietly, and then take the reigns of the city by acting as your regent.  However, Damas proved to be even craftier than I'd given him credit for.  Instead of a quiet capture, it turned into a full fledged battle that tore the whole wing of the palace apart, and you and Ar-Mar went missing with your Crocodog sometime amidst the chaos.  As a result, instead of making Damas disappear quietly and taking the reigns as your regent, I was forced to violently and publicly seize the reigns of government."

Jak nodded in understanding.  "So what did you do with him?"

"I did the only thing I could do to remove him from the city without committing political suicide," Praxus replied.  "I exiled him to the Wasteland as an enemy of Haven City.  Executing him would have instantly spawned a full scale rebellion, and there was always the chance he'd survive out there and contribute someday once I'd proven him wrong and successfully eliminated the Metalheads."  He shrugged his shoulders.  "Or at least...that was my thoughts on the situation at the time."

Jak nodded.  "How would he have survived the Wasteland?  Shining's fairly certain he did, and has agents in the city."

"I wouldn't be at all surprised," Praxus replied.  "Beyond his own stubborn tenacity, there's rumors of a city of survivors out in the Wasteland, who manage to thrive in those conditions.  Exact details are unknown...but every exile sent into the Wasteland is given a beacon, just in case someone out there decides to pick them up and see what they're capable of.  While the Metalheads were still a major threat, it was up to each exile whether or not to activate the beacon and risk being collected by the Metalheads instead."

Jak thought about that for a time.  "...then that's how we'll do it."

"What?" Praxus asked, stunned.

"If they pick up exiles, they aren't going to pick up anyone who might still be working for Haven City," Jak explained.  "So the only way I'm going to be able to check if the Wasteland city is where my Father is is if I'm exiled."

"...you do know that you're completely insane, right?" Praxus demanded.

"If you can tell me my father wouldn't do the same thing in my shoes, I'll make another plan," Jak countered.

"Just because it runs in the family doesn't make it something to be proud of!" the Baron snapped, slamming the table with his hands.  "You're the only thing holding this city together at this point!  What makes you think the city will hold together once you've been exiled?  Or that we'll be able to make the exile believable?"

"Is there anyone in the government who really doesn't like me?" Jak countered.

Praxus blinked for a time, then nodded.  "Count Veger.  He's extremely distrustful of anything to do with Dark Eco.  Since you were altered by the Dark Warrior project - which he was against in principle in the first place, despite being part of the coup - he doesn't like you at all.  Why?"

"Would you say the count's any good at making speeches?"

"Well...I suppose," Praxus allowed.  "Why?"

"Eventually, something's going to go wrong," Jak explained.  "Something big enough to make people really upset.  When it happens, Veger is most likely going to try to play public opinion to gain support for whatever his goals are...and my Dark Eco makes me his preferred scapegoat."

Praxus nodded.  "Yes...and despite the fact you killed Krew yourself, you did provide him with the Ruby Key that let him allow the Metalheads entrance to the city.  There's plenty about your exploits that Veger could twist out of context into political ammunition."

"And you'll let it happen," Jak finished.  "You won't take sides, but you'll make sure you're the one who makes the final ruling of my exile, and make sure Ashelin is part of the squad that takes me - and Shining and Daxter, since they'll come with me - into exile...and give her anything to help me out in the desert in addition to the beacon."  He pushed away from the pillar.  "In the meantime, I'll cram lessons from Samos on wilderness survival, and get Keira to remake Shining's temperature regulating gear."

Praxus shook his head in frustration.  "There's no talking you out of this?" he demanded curtly.

"There's a first time for everything!" Jak called back as he left.

The Baron sighed ruefully.  "Damas...he is every inch your son..." he grumbled under his breath.