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When Erol Met Keira	By : DoveCG Category: +G through L > Jak & Daxter Views: 1875 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Jak & Daxter, nor anything else in their franchise. I make no money writing this. I doubt anyone would pay me for it anyway.

Chapter List
- 1-Onin's Match-Making Services aren't Pecker Approved
- 1
Author's Note:
This was my first ever J&D fic, which I never published before (thank goodness.) I began rewriting it awhile ago, because I thought it had some merit. It's mostly in bits and pieces; I kept writing chapters out of order, then I ignored it horribly, because I kept coming up with different ideas for other stories (as you can see... this isn't even all of them; this is just what has a definite beginning and a semi-decent cut-off point.)
I have a soft spot for Erol and Keira in a loving relationship. I'm sure this idea has been written into the ground, but I like writing about villains as if they're just people. Erol could be a controlling and uncaring jerk, who Keira admired anyway, but I prefer to think she liked him, because he was kind to her. And I realize the age issue can be awkward for some people. I waffled around it a bit, but I assume if you're going to continue reading this, you don't care. Nothing hardcore happens for awhile anyway.
There could be some question as to whether Erol is his given name or his surname. Far as I'm concerned, his full title could be Commander Erol Errol. I also speculated a bit of background for him; hopefully nothing too annoying, once it comes up. Also I wrote him as basically the head of the entire KG, before it dawned on me it's possible he isn't. So he is for this story!
Also, I know the Precursors are their gods, but based on details in the games, they do seem to have a very vague, general concept of a heaven and a hell. Not sure as far as demons and angels, but there wasn't an easy translation at times, and I was determined to have that one bit in there. :P I'm almost certain the word angel has been applied to a woman in the games before. If not, oh well.
Ashelin and Torn have some major parts in later chapters. Hinted Ashelin/Erol, Ashelin/Torn, and Keira/Ashelin. She gets around, ha ha. That last one is in a fantasy. They mostly have cat fights at first. The Dom and stuff tags are gonna be KG RP oriented. Gonna be a long time 'til it gets there, though.

Chapter 1 – Onin's Match-Making Services aren't Pecker Approved

“Don't you ever sleep, Commander?!” Pecker asked, “Onin says she's flattered by all this attention, but I think she's a little old for you.”
The moncaw fluttered its wings irritably. Several stray feathers fluttered out and danced in the air as Onin blindly continued to wave her hands around, unknowing or uncaring about her crude translator’s little flourishes.
Erol growled and shoved his pistol under the moncaw's chin. It winced and forced a smile.
“Hey, hey! Easy now. Arrrk! Easy,” Pecker said, “Kill me and you'll never know what she says!”
Erol sneered as he leaned in close.
“I'm sure we can find some other talking animal to fill your position. Maybe a lurker, if it comes to that,” Erol said, “The old woman's been holding out on me, hasn't she? Or is this your doing?”
“No! We've told you everything we can!” Pecker said.
The moncaw gulped as Erol clicked the eco chamber into place, ready to fire, and it held up its wings.
“Wait! Arrrk! Okay! Onin thinks you are ready,” the moncaw said, “Thank goodness!”
Erol eased up but remained firm. He glanced from the agitated moncaw to the gesturing soothsayer.
“Ready for what?” Erol asked.
The moncaw flinched and spread its wings wide.
“The most important thing in the history of Haven! And Onin says it is for you and only you to hear! Your future is tangled up with it. What you do with this information is up to you, but get rid of these layabouts for now!” Pecker said.
Erol nodded to the three Krimzon Guard standing around him, before he backed off and put his pistol into its holster.
“See that no one comes in,” Erol said, “And if this is a trap, blow his head off.”
As the guards marched out in single file, Erol placed a hand on his hip while giving the little old woman and her moncaw a withering glance. The moncaw swished some wingtip feathers against its neck, as if mimicking an anxious tug at the collar of a shirt.
“I don't need flattery,” Erol said, “And I don't like to be misinformed. If this city is crushed, it will be because of your lies!”
Onin scowled. The moncaw shook a single feather at him, as if it were an index finger.
“Hey! We are doing you a favor! Now sit down and shut up!”
The change in tone almost startled Erol into compliance, until he noticed the vermin crawling all over the place. With disgust, he wondered if that was how the blind old woman kept her moncaw fed.
“I think I'll stand,” Erol said, “Get to the point.”
The moncaw took a deep breath and clasped its wings together like hands. Then he held out one wing, gesturing towards the tent flap.
“Onin may ply her trade as a fortune teller, but she does not casually delve into the fate of just anyone!” Pecker said, “Mostly because it's boring.”
Erol rolled his eyes.
“That doesn't surprise me,” Erol said, “But it's not as if I asked about my love life.”
“Yes!” Pecker said, “You did?”
The moncaw leaned over the wide brim of Onin's dish-shaped hat to stare at her in disbelief. Onin continued to gesture, oblivious or uncaring. The moncaw snorted and pointed at Erol, who was equally incredulous but intrigued.
“Onin says that you have been unlucky in love, but that will change. Arrrk! Seriously? Who cares about that?! My life is at stake here!”
Erol put both hands on his hips and glowered at the mangy animal. If this was some ploy, he'd strangle that damn moncaw.
“We already know she sees the future,” Erol said, “There's no need to convince me with parlor tricks!”
Pecker waved a wing dismissively and continued to watch Onin carefully.
“I'm not! Get off my back. She's going on at length about this yakkow manure. I'm still waiting to hear how it's relevant,” Pecker said, “Hurry up! You're not the one who had a gun to your head.”
Erol twitched at the lack of respect but waited, watching with renewed interest. Onin's pattern of glowing blue gestures flowed like a dance, almost hypnotic. Erol shook his head, to clear the stupor, when the moncaw caught his attention by holding up its wings in agitation.
“Arrrk! I think she's losing it, but whatever! Let me cut to the chase,” Pecker said, “You seek those who would channel eco. It is a rare skill. Even rarer as a natural gift! Onin has seen the itinerary of three travelers that fit the bill. Not one, not two, but three! They will arrive in Haven. Soon!”
Erol's eyes widened but he grinned, excitement getting the better of his judgment. This sounded too good to be true but the Baron would be eager to hear it! Of course, if Erol told Baron Praxis about this and then never found these supposed travelers, he'd be up shit creek without a paddle.
“How will I find them? What do I look for?” Erol asked, “Why are they coming here? And when?”
Pecker snorted and yawned.
“That's too many questions!” Pecker said, “Drape a sheet over my cage; I'm ready for bed!”
Erol clenched his fists and grit his teeth. Stupid animal!
“No! How will I recognize them?” Erol asked, “You can't leave me in the dark like this!”
The moncaw seemed unimpressed and flew off, only to land on a tall perch a few feet away.
“Onin says you will know when it is time. Follow the comet in the sky! Oh, come on! A comet? What is this, hokey portent hour? Okay, not a real comet... It just looks like one,” Pecker said, “Well, that's your fate! Now, if you'll excuse me, I've had enough excitement for one evening.”
The moncaw tucked his head underneath a wing and ignored Erol, much to Erol's chagrin. He looked to the old woman in frustration but she was closing her eyes, as if she might fall asleep where she sat. He grumbled as he pushed the tent flap aside, irritated by their treatment but rejoicing over his discovery.

Erol smiled as the boy, well, teenager, crumpled under the blow struck by one of his soldiers. He could hardly believe it! He'd been on pins and needles ever since the night he'd talked to the old hag. His job was at stake if her prophecy was false.
He had seen the flash in the sky, not blinding but as attention-grabbing as the burst of a firecracker and twice as big. Three pinpoints of light fell to the ground, scattered in different directions. One had been brighter and closer than the other two and this was the one Erol went to investigate with his small patrol. What a wonder and a delight it was to see a very confused boy, looking extremely out of place and standing all by himself, aside from some talking fur ball. If that wasn't strange enough for Onin's prediction, then Erol was a tap-dancing crocadog.
The rat... ottsel... thing had scampered off between Erol's legs, but he had chosen to ignore it. He'd dealt with enough annoying talking pets to last him a lifetime. No, they would take the boy in for testing and see what luck they were having. If Onin was correct, then at least one of these people would help with the Dark Warrior Program.
Briefly, Erol wondered what the boy had fallen from. The burst of light had started above the palace; there was no way they had crashed into the catwalk from a zoomer... Maybe it was a ruptured Lurker hot-air balloon?
"Commander!"
The communicator crackled with faint static as Erol turned his attention to it with a frown. What now?
"This had better be good news," Erol said.
"We followed one of the falling lights, sir."
Erol quirked an eyebrow.
"And?"
"We found a strange old man; might not be from around here. Do you want us to bring him in?"
Erol smirked. An old man clearly wouldn't survive the Dark Eco treatments, but he could prove useful in other ways. The third passenger was currently at large, though that wouldn't last long with the Krimzon Guard scouring the city. Even so, they needed as many test subjects as possible and the old man might help in finding the last traveler.
"Go ahead. Drag him in for a little... interrogation."
"Yes, sir!"
The radio fizzled as the connection was dropped and Erol motioned for the Krimzon Guards to follow him as they carried the unconscious boy. There was a prison cell with this kid's name on it! Whatever that name might be. The rat had called him Jak, hadn't it?
Not that it mattered. They'd find a prison uniform that fit and replace that name with a string of numbers. If the boy was useless, he'd be yet another nameless casualty of war, disposed of in the night like all the rest. A pathetic end for another pathetic person. Even so, Erol hoped this one might have a little more fight to him. It was boring when they simply gave up and embraced death as inevitable.

It was late afternoon when Erol began cruising through the upper zone on his personalized Hellcat zoomer; a standard issue that he'd had altered to appreciate his taste. Light and fast, with even more inertia to offset the mounted gun. Any little edge for more momentum! He felt the urge to speed like a demon, using the skills he'd honed on the racing circuit, but he ignored it. Even more than setting a good example, and keeping his zoomer in one piece, he needed to pay attention to his surroundings.
The Eco experts under the Baron's employ had, after much deliberation and prodding, decided that the boy could prove useful for the Dark Warrior Program. Erol had ignored the other prisoner, after the initial questioning revealed very little. The Baron was pleased and Erol was itching to catch that last person unaware. The Guards investigating the third crash didn't find anything, but someone else was still out there. Now Erol was restless and relentless.
After a few hours of casually combing the district they had landed in, Erol knew he had to think of something else. Clearly whoever this person was had nerves of steel and enough sense to blend in quickly. While some might have been discouraged, Erol was thrilled. Here was a true cat and mouse game, one that he was certain of winning! He might need a little help, but he knew exactly who to turn to. With a confident shift of weight, he swerved his zoomer around and headed for the East Bazaar.

Erol entered Onin's tent with his usual feeling of disdain. The place smelled heavily of old incense and, as always, was crawling with spiders and who knew what else. The old woman sat in her usual place upon the dirt floor, surrounded by her clutter of pointless mystical decor and a few candles. There was a loud squawk and a hasty flutter of feathers as the moncaw on the old woman's dish-shaped hat flew up into the air above her head.
“Commander! What a surprise to see you here, out of all the places you could be!” Pecker said.
Erol snorted as he wandered over. While he was used to being feared, and often reveled in it, the moncaw's lack of bravado was setting off red flags.
“I didn't think it was possible to surprise the great Onin,” Erol said.
The moncaw landed at his feet and bowed a few times, wings outspread, with a huge fake grin on his face. Erol sneered, not believing it for a second. Onin had her usual level of calm about her as she began making glowing patterns in the air.
“No, no! I am surprised! Just me,” Pecker said, “Arrrk! Onin was busy contemplating the universe and all that good stuff. She greets you now! And, uh, oh! You came to... hear your horoscope?”
Erol stared at the moncaw until he flew back to Onin. Then Erol began to slowly wander around the tent, exploring each nook and cranny with his eyes alone. No need to touch anything that might be poisoned or cursed if he was mistaken about this gut feeling of his.
“Hey, don't go poking around here!” Pecker said, “All sorts of rabid dust bunnies and bad mojo!”
The moncaw had flapped after him and, as Erol began to examine the large glowing totem, the annoying little beast flew right into his face! He faltered a moment, not expecting that after the moncaw's initial fear. When the moncaw maintained eye-to-eye contact, and even had the gall to glare, Erol promptly drew his pistol. Pecker gasped, changing his tune immediately.
“Okay, you're on your own!” he said, “I did what I could! Arrk! Send postcards from prison, if they let you write.”
Erol kept his pistol aimed at the moncaw as it flew behind Onin, who scowled but remained seated. There was movement on the edge of his perception and he hastily turned to aim at whatever it was, before he realized it was a girl stepping out from behind the totem. She held out her hands, palms out, trying to appease him. She looked young, in her teens, with wide green eyes displaying obvious fear as she approached.
Unbelievable! No one in Haven willingly surrendered, just as no one in Haven stood up for someone else, unless they had the power to destroy their opposition. This girl was very lovely, but clearly unarmed and defenseless. If she was the third traveler, then she was offering her life in exchange for the lives of two newly met acquaintances; one of which wasn't even human!
As Erol hesitated, not used to these circumstances, she began to plead with him. Erol winced the moment she opened her pouting lips. Her voice was high and feminine, but with a gratingly scratchy quality. It was initially so distracting that nothing sank in until she spoke again.
“Please? Let us go!” the girl said, “We haven't done anything wrong.”
Erol shook his head slowly as he put his gun away. Intimidation was usually his first tactic, but he had no need for it now. This girl was either crazy or selfless and he had to admire the latter as a truly rare occurrence, even if it might get her killed.
“They've been harboring a fugitive,” Erol said, “You.”
“What?! Why am I a fugitive? What law did I break?” she asked.
Erol smiled, softening as her helpless bravery and strange notions of justice took on an inexplicable appeal. Her voice was slowly growing on him as well. She wasn't exactly a damsel in distress nor was she a tough as nails bitch. She was something in between... something else. Even so, he couldn't ease up. He had to give her an answer and he had to stick to his position until he knew more.
“Illegal immigration,” Erol said.
He'd gotten used to coming up with official charges for any random criminal brought in. As he said it though, he knew he'd never arrest her. He actually felt... pity. She stared at him for awhile, uncertain what to say. Maybe she hadn't understood.
“We don't take outsiders lightly. Our resources are limited,” he said, “Everyone who comes to live in Haven has to go through the proper channels first.”
The girl nodded slowly and gripped her upper arm with the opposite hand, squeezing it as she hugged herself. She kept her chin down as she glanced up at him, her eyes fighting to hold back traces of moisture. Normally he might have been disgusted by such an obvious ploy, but she seemed completely sincere. Either she was a very good actor or she came from some place very different from Haven.
“Please, give me a chance. I didn't know! I didn't even know where I was going when I came here,” the girl said, “Let me talk to who ever is in charge and I'm sure he'll let me stay, just as long as I need to. Then I'll go back home. I promise!”
Erol laughed at that. The very idea of Baron Praxis being compassionate over a misunderstanding! That was a good one. She looked offended though, so he did his best to regain his composure, albeit more relaxed and jovial than usual. Clearly she'd never been to Haven before. She remained wary, but began to relax as well, with a hint of a blush on her pale cheeks.
It slowly dawned on Erol that someone else was laughing and he looked past her to see Pecker, who was holding his sides. Even Onin was trying to wipe an awkward smirk off her face. How dare they be in on the joke?! Of course they'd know enough to get it, but Erol was feeling possessive. He didn't want to share this moment with anyone but her. And as far as he was concerned, they no longer mattered. The girl was clearly the one he had been looking for.
Though, the more Erol thought about it, the more he realized that he didn't want to share her with the Baron either. It was as if he'd discovered a treasure too wonderful to sell. He wanted nothing more than to keep her to himself and protect her strange innocence from the rest of the world. Even so, he couldn't do that in good conscience if sacrificing her was the key to destroying the Metal Heads, once and for all. He might not have cared much about the people he was supposed to protect, but losing the war, the entire city, and his life, because of his own personal desire was unacceptable. He couldn't let emotion cloud his judgment; not that he had much of a choice when he lost his temper, but he should at least try to be rational when he wasn't blinded by rage.
He walked over to Onin, his stride firm and his finger pointed at Pecker. He regarded them both coldly, his usual demeanor back in place.
“What is her purpose here?” Erol asked, “I won't go against the Baron's wishes without a good reason!”
Pecker watched Onin making rapid, glowing gestures with her hands and sighed as he put one wing on his hip, like a hand, while the other wing stretched out as he motioned towards the girl.
“Onin says powerful forces are at work! The fate of the planet hangs in the balance, lots of mumbo jumbo is involved, and then some crap I haven't even heard of before,” Pecker said, “Here is what I already know! This baby bird needs to keep her flight feathers, when they grow in. She must be unhindered! That's why I took her under my wing and brought her back to the nest, for safe keeping.”
The girl frowned, worried.
“But what am I supposed to do?” she asked.
Pecker flew up to perch on Onin's hat, while Onin continued making signs with her hands.
“Onin says you will know what needs to be done, when it needs doing. Until then, you must wait!”
“If only I felt as certain about me as you guys do,” she said, “I wish daddy were here. He'd know what's going on.”
Still looking confused and anxious as before, she moved to stand beside Erol, who wanted to reassure her, but didn't know how. He wasn't normally in the business of reassurances. Then she placed her hand on his arm and, even though it was covered by his skin-tight uniform, a shiver went up his spine. He felt an unspoken connection as she gazed into his golden eyes beseechingly. Her heart was clearly open to friendship, if nothing else. All Erol could do was bask in the gentle thrill of her presence, until the intensity of their immediate compatibility forced him to look away. With his mind made up, Erol beckoned for her to follow. It was clear she wanted his support and his guidance. All he needed to do was to give it.
“I won't arrest you, but you're coming with me,” Erol said, “I'll call in a few favors and do what I can. You'll need some paperwork; official documents. A work visa, maybe.”
He looked over his shoulder, to make sure she was behind him, and noticed the purple goggles hanging around her neck. The perfect cover story clicked.
“Are you a racer?” Erol asked.
The girl smiled as she caught up and tried to match his pace, though she glanced back and gave the old fortune teller and her mangy moncaw a slight wave, before they vanished behind the closing tent flap.
“I wish! Daddy thinks it's too dangerous. For now, I'm just a mechanic. Oooh, is that your zoomer?” she asked.
Erol walked over and straddled it in answer but waited before revving it up. The girl was wandering around him, stroking the red painted metal and marveling as she did.
“Wow! I bet that engine is top notch and the chassis looks super light,” she said, “I mean, lighter than the ones I've seen those other warriors riding on. Wait, what are you guys even called?”
“The Krimzon Guard. I'm Commander Erol.”
He said it with considerable pride and equal amusement; he didn't get that question very often. She looked up from examining the cursory armor on his zoomer and gasped, putting her hand up to cover her mouth, before subsequently placing both hands flat against her bosom.
“Oh! I didn't mean to be rude. I'm Keira; Keira Hagai! It's a pleasure to meet you!”
She offered her dainty hand and Erol was so stunned by her politeness, though it lacked the deference he'd gotten used to, that it took him a moment before he shook hands. His grip was light at first, then firmer as he recognized hers to be strong and sure. Any previous uncertainty washed away under that simple touch and his resolve became like iron. Metal Heads or high water, he'd protect this girl... no, young lady, to the best of his ability.
She didn't have a clue what she had gotten herself into by coming to Haven but she was so sincerely friendly and relatively confident, within her comfort zone. It was hard for him to hold her at fault for her ignorance. He felt almost as if he were being welcomed into her home, not the other way around.
“The pleasure is all mine,” Erol said.
He'd dealt with ironically uncivil nobility alongside their facetiously polite brethren, ever since he'd reached a high enough rank to even casually speak to them in the first place. Ashelyn was the exception to the rule, but they'd gone through boot camp together. Not much bowing and scraping to be done in front of a fellow grunt, who had earned her ranks right alongside him. With everyone else, he'd become well acquainted with that phrase but, for once in his life, it actually meant something.
He tilted her wrist and kissed the back of her hand. He wasn't one for chivalry, since it generally rang hollow, but she brought out a side of him that he now felt honored to have. She blushed and smiled, as she put her free hand up against her cheek, then began waving away his compliment when he let go of the other.
“Oh, stop!” she said, “Next, you'll be asking if I fell from heaven, because it's missing an angel.”
Erol smiled back, as warmly as a summer day.
“I wouldn't be surprised if it was.”

Erol pulled to a stop in front of the Hip Hog Heaven Saloon. He'd kept his pedal on the gas the entire way there, exhilarated both by the rush of the wind in his face and the way Keira had gripped his waist tight. It took her a few minutes before she hopped off the zoomer, but she continued to look thrilled as she pushed some stray strands of hair out of her eyes.
“What a ride! You should be careful. I could get used to that,” Keira said.
Erol smirked as he put it in park and turned the purring engine off.
“I hope so,” Erol said, “I want to be the first one you call, if you ever need anything.”
“Aww, that's sweet, but you're already doing so much!” Keira said, “Hey, is this the place?”
Erol nodded and motioned for her to follow. She wrinkled her nose as he held the door open for her and she caught sight of the interior.
“Are you sure? It looks kind of... seedy,” she said.
Erol smirked. At least she was sensible, even if she didn't know much about Haven.
“You're always safe, as long as you're with me,” Erol said, “Ladies first.”
Then he bowed with a flourish as he gestured inward. It was mocking, but not directed at her. He couldn't help feeling cheeky given the disconnect between the honor of their circumstances and the method he had ultimately chosen for reaching their objective. He'd known immediately that keeping her from the Baron would require making her legal through illegal means. A drop in the bucket, as far as the corruption in Haven went, but he did see the humor in it.
“Oh, uh, thanks!” she said.
Keira remained wary, but accepted his judgment and stepped inside, giving the boxing ring and the bar itself a wide berth as she wandered further in. While she studied one of the Metal Head trophies on the wall with a grimace of shocked recognition, the usual awe and horror those ugly things were meant to invoke, Erol looked for Krew. There was almost no one in the saloon and Krew was hard to miss on the rare occasions when it was busy. The fat man had no problem noticing them either.
“Commander! Mmhmm, fancy seeing you here,” Krew said, “Who's your new friend? Trustworthy, I take it?”
Krew floated over and Keira took a step back. She looked to Erol nervously, but he ignored it. He focused on Krew, who was disgusting, but not much of a threat without his heavy backing him. Erol was certain she'd calm down as long as it was clear that Erol was calling the shots.
“I need to cut some red tape and I need it done fast,” Erol said, “And for the record, this is just between the three of us.”
Krew chuckled as he fanned himself.
“That's an interesting request, coming from you! Well, well,” Krew said, “Let's discuss a price, aye?”
Erol glowered and crossed his arms in front of his chest as he leaned his back into the thick boxing ring ropes, which sagged but easily held up under his weight.
“It's the usual agreement, Krew. You do what I ask and business goes on as usual,” Erol said, “You make things hard for me and I'll make them even harder for you.”
Krew scowled and puttered away with the back of his chair facing them.
“Hmph! Very well. I take it she's the one in need of some papers. How soon?” Krew asked.
“Today.”
Krew spun around, sputtering.
“Today! Why?” Krew asked, “Won't tomorrow do? Who the hell is she?”
Krew zoomed in and scrutinized Keira from above. He remained quite unimpressed and Keira squeaked at the sudden, belligerent attention. Erol eased himself between them. Though Keira stood unbowed, even before Erol's mild intervention, she was clearly uneasy. Krew muttered, complaining so softly that even Erol, with his exceptional hearing, couldn't quite make it out, but the tone was painfully obvious. Erol smirked and cupped his hand to his ear, as if trying to hear Krew better.
“What was that?” Erol asked, “You're regretting your choices in life? Feeling like a new career on the straight and narrow path?”
Krew snorted.
“I expect to win a few juicy bets in the future, aye? Your winning streak may suffer a little.”
Erol narrowed his eyes and yanked the fan out of Krew's weak grip. Then he threw the fan over his shoulder, without looking back. Presumably it had landed in the ring. Krew gaped and furtively glanced around, beginning to sweat harder when he noticed Sig wasn't there. Erol wrinkled his nose at the stench of all that glistening fat but put up with it for her sake.
“I'm holding all the cards, Krew. Don't push your luck,” Erol said.
Krew growled, shaking his weak, meaty fists with pent up rage.
“Arggh! Fine. I'll put my best man on it! You'll have the goods tonight but I'll need the details first,” Krew said, “And don't think your little pet project, or whatever this is, has gone unnoticed! Sooner or later, I get my slice of every sumptuous deal that goes on in this town.”
Krew chuckled darkly as he glanced at Keira, who glared back. Then she stomped her foot and pushed past Erol, jabbing her index finger into one of Krew's scrawny, dangling legs to emphasize her words.
“That is it!” Keira said, “I don't know why we came to you, but I don't have to stand here and listen to you talk about me like I'm some kind of... of... object! You Hip Hog! I want an apology, right now!”
Erol simply stared. He hadn't seen that coming. Neither had Krew, who wheezed nervously. Keira continued to glare as she planted her feet and placed her hands on her hips. There were a few minutes of uncertainty all around as she waited.
When Krew gave Erol a hopeful look, Erol could only smirk at first. This did technically fall under Erol's job description, as a protector of the people and a keeper of the peace, but Krew knew better than to rely on him for that. Still, it might help persuade the fat old fuck. Even though Erol doubted that Keira would hurt the man, he pulled her off Krew anyway.
Keira leaned into Erol's chest at first, but tried to push away once she'd regained her balance. Erol did his best to keep her where she was, without frightening her, and began to gently rub her shoulders, hoping to soothe her instead. It must have worked, because she stopped resisting.
What a weird day! Erol had to shake his head in wonder. He wasn't used to holding someone back from a fight. Generally, he lost his temper first or fanned the flames for everyone else involved. Instead, he was busy whispering into her delicately tapered ear, which twitched with curiosity even as it remained lowered in anger.
“We need him in one piece,” Erol said, “Calm down! This won't take long.”
Krew rolled his eyes at the sight of Erol's unusual show of tenderness, but chuckled nonetheless.
“I see she has you eating out of the palm of her hand,” Krew said, “Hmmhmmhmm! No easy feat, even if she is misguided. Where in the world did you find her?”
Erol felt his face and ears growing hot from a mixture of shame and rage over Krew's insinuation. He had half a mind to see if he could break that damn hover chair, allowing him to gloat over Krew's pathetic reliance on it, but Keira squeaked with indignation and it reminded him that he was on a mission. In his anger, he backed Keira's prior statement, hoping to frighten Krew into compliance.
“Never mind that,” Erol said, “You owe the lady an apology!”
“Oh, forgive me,” Krew answered, “I was under the impression that you couldn't do this without me! I'm going to have a snack, if we've nothing further to discuss.”
Krew drifted away, like a hideous balloon, and Keira trembled with visible agitation. Erol gave her shoulders one last gentle squeeze before letting go. He needed to act fast or risk failure, and it struck him that it might be easier to regain his composure if he couldn't see how upset she was. Trying to defend her was getting his negotiations nowhere and keeping her calm, while Krew was around, seemed like an unnecessary complication.
“Wait by the zoomer and don't talk to anyone,” Erol said.
“That wasn't an apology!” Keira said.
“It's the best you'll get out of him!” Erol said, “Now go.”
Keira looked up at Erol with those wide and pleading green eyes. Erol admired her tenacity, but she was getting in the way. Finally, her shoulders slumped as she gave in. It took all of his will to give her a little push, instead of trying to console her further. She looked back several times as she walked away, even pausing as she held open the door, as if she was hoping he'd change his mind, but he remained unmoved. He didn't know he'd been holding his breath until she was out of sight. All of his official authority was built upon force or threats. He wasn't used to solving problems and maintaining his position without those tools at his disposal.
“You might want to pull the stinger off that Wumpbee or someone might do it for you,” Krew said.
Erol pretended to ignore the threat as he walked around the boxing ring and towards the exist, as if every decision had already been made. In truth, he wouldn't go until he'd gotten Krew's cooperation.
“Her name is Keira Hagai,” Erol said, “She needs a birth certificate, a work permit, a driver's license, and a school record. I'm not sure how old she really is, but she's not far off and she needs to be a graduate. Home school, perhaps. That would probably make it simpler.”
“Gracious! Is she completely off the grid?” Krew asked.
“Not any more,” Erol said.
Krew puttered up to match Erol's slow stride. Erol could almost see the gears turning in the fat bastard's head, while Krew showed off his horrible dental hygiene in a wide grin.
“Hrmmmm! This is a tall order for such a little waif,” Krew said, “Who are you hiding her from? And in plain sight, no less! Heh heh, clever of you, Commander. Very clever.”
Damn it! Why couldn't Krew leave well enough alone? Though it was a fairly sizable ego boost, to receive that kind of compliment from such an unfortunately intelligent asshole, Erol knew he had to construct a lie, then and there, or Krew's curiosity would lead to something unpleasant. Luckily, he knew what to do. There were rumors that Krew was playing both sides, for maximum profit. Erol stopped as he leaned against the door, smirking over his own quick scheming.
“The Underground. She's going to spy for us, so keep it to yourself, if you value the Baron's patronage,” Erol said, “I'll return a quarter to midnight and the delivery better be prompt! I can't stress that enough. And hold your tongue or I'll have it removed.”

“I didn't mean to chew him out, but he was seriously getting under my skin,” Keira said, “And the way he kept talking! Like he was some sort of criminal. How could you be friends with a guy like that?”
Keira had remained in quiet contemplation during their drive to the Mar Memorial Stadium. Her simmering was apparent, even as she admired the landscaping outside, but it was just a matter of time before she'd explode. This was a considerably less frustrating outburst than Erol had been expecting and easier to deal with than he'd feared. After all, she was apologizing for something that didn't require one. Erol patted her shoulder as he corrected her on the only point that mattered.
“That was all business,” Erol said, “Krew isn't in the habit of making friends.”
Neither was he, but he wasn't dumb enough to admit it. Keira rolled her eyes, but nodded in agreement.
“I'll say! Not the way he acts.”
“Forget about him,” Erol said, “Let's talk about you.”
Keira smiled and fluttered her lashes at that, her temper cooling quickly. It was the best line to feed a woman, when she was cross about something else and the subject needed to change fast. It also earned him points as a considerate, caring individual. He couldn't help smiling back as she sidled closer.
“Oh! Well... what did you want to know?” Keira asked.
She thrust out her chest and hips, swaying more distinctly than before, while they continued their tour of the stadium.
“How do you feel about working as a full-time racing mechanic?” Erol asked, “The pay is good and I have the connections you'll need to get in.”
“You want me to be your mechanic?” Keira asked.
Her tone was full of excitement and he was sincerely honored by it, but Erol's team was owned by the Baron. Time to nip that idea in the bud with something smooth.
“I would, but my racing team would never agree,” Erol said, “Besides, it'll look suspicious. A complete unknown hired by the grand champion on her first day? You're better off getting your own garage first and working your way up.”
Not to mention, he hadn't seen her level of skill. Erol was often reckless, yes, but not stupid. If she turned out half as good as he suspected, he might say screw it all and do everything in his power to get her on his team as soon as humanly possible. That was if the Baron continued to be reasonably hands off with his racing team and if she continued to stir Erol's fancy. No sense in hiring an ex-girlfriend, who hated his guts, after all.
Keira nodded, even as she began to pout. She couldn't deny his logic and he considered the matter settled, but he knew he needed to distract her, before she tried to find a loophole anyway.
“Where would you like to go next? I'll show you as much of the city as I can, before I go to work,” Erol said, “You'll have your own security pass in the future but it'll be awhile before I can get it to you.”
“Huh?” Keira asked, “Oh! Like that eco force field between here and the Bazaar? Why do people need clearance for that?”
Okay, she was definitely brighter than he had initially given her credit for. This might get old fast if it became a common occurrence. Erol smiled, giving her as neutral and uninformative an answer as possible, while telling her the absolute truth.
“Each district is restricted,” Erol said, “I'll get you as much access as possible, for a civilian.”
Luckily, she was apparently distracted enough to let the issue drop. She batted her eyelashes at him, at first blinking over the very obvious evasion and then more as it didn't seem to matter one bit.
“Oh... Hey, uh, where do you live?” Keira asked.
It was obvious what question she was really asking and Erol smirked. Not that he minded. Not at all! He couldn't resist teasing her anyway.
“I do have separate quarters in the barracks, one of my perks as Commander, but it wouldn't be... appropriate to have you visiting me. We haven't even had our first date yet!”
Keira blushed when she realized what he was insinuating and shook her head rapidly. She held her hands up, as if it might stop the wrong idea in its tracks.
“Whoa! No way! I'm not that kind of girl!” she said, “But hey! I'm getting hungry. We could always have a picnic together. Some place nice. Ooh, with trees! I'm already getting sick of all this concrete.”
A picnic? How quaint... It wasn't something Erol would have considered, but the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. The gardens would work, but he felt somewhere more secluded was best. Haven Forest would do nicely.

One of the twin suns had already set and the other was hot on its trail, streaking the clouds with vibrant colors. They ate by the shore of the lake, among the chirp of insects and the rustle of leaves, passing the time with a silence that was surprisingly easy to bear. Keira was too enraptured with nature to notice the lack of conversation, allowing Erol to appreciate the gorgeous view, uninterrupted. ...Their surroundings were also nice.
It wasn't long before the stars and moon peered over the tree tops and, though it took a little while for his eyes to adjust, Erol had to admit this was a lot more pleasant than he would have ever guessed. They had no blanket to rest on, but Keira didn't seem to mind. In fact, after finishing her sandwich and licking her fingers clean, she took off her sandals. Erol watched her wiggling her toes through the thin tendrils of soft grass and noticed how she seemed to be intentionally rubbing the soles of her feet across the patches of dirt in between. Keira grinned at him, without a single hint of self-consciousness.
Certainly not his typical date! Most of them would have cringed at the mere thought of grass stains and runs in their pantyhose, while they complained about the lack of air conditioning and demanded that he take them somewhere expensive instead. Then they'd complain about how many calories the steak had and mostly just eat the salad that came with it. Judging from the small prayer she'd offer before digging in, Erol had a feeling that Keira would honor the god damn yakkow for giving up its life, in the middle of the restaurant, then have the sense to work off any excess calories later. He'd dated some utterly beautiful women, and he generally had no qualms about spending whatever it took to keep them happy, but some of them had also been absolutely frustrating to deal with. Keira seemed like the sort who might find a way to embarrass the hell out of him, but she probably wouldn't waste his money on a status symbol.
The girl must have liked having him for an audience; her playful antics soon went as far as somersaults and cartwheels, of all things. Erol simply sat, his arms resting on his knees, observing her with idle amusement. It wasn't exactly the most exciting thing in the world though. After awhile, rather than complimenting her or trying to chat, Erol tilted his head back and contemplated the heavens. This had to be the most peaceful he'd felt in his entire life, as a drowsy haze of contentment settled over him.
A large splash dissolved all of that in the span of a second. Fearing the worst, he straightened up, ready to leap to his feet, before he noticed her wading in the shallows, the edge of her capris rolled up a little higher to keep them dry. He sighed, almost annoyed that she was fine, but smiled grudgingly when Keira giggled at his reaction. Erol couldn't blame her for ignoring him, when he'd taken to ignoring her, yet it felt all right. As if there was no need for small talk. No need for anything except being there. He felt like he already knew her well enough and he'd learn more, much more, about her as time went on.
“Ahhh, this is great!” Keira said, “You really know how to live.”
Erol chuckled. This had all been her idea and she was attributing it to him! Was she head over heels in love already?
“Come on in! The water 's fine!” Keira said.
There was no way in hell Erol was that relaxed, so he shook his head. It was, however, very clear that he needed to think where this was headed. Any woman he wanted was his, for as long as he wanted her, and that was how it had always been. The legal documents he'd ordered would fudge things in his favor, if necessary, but there wasn't any need to rush in. He wanted to take it slow, no matter what. Deep down, he thought Keira might be worth the wait.
She came sloshing out of the lake when she realized he wouldn't join her and flopped down beside him instead, tucking her arms under her head and regarding the stars with equally twinkling green eyes. Erol pushed his fist loosely into his cheek, resting on his elbow as he settled down again, wondering where all her exuberance came from. She must have lived a truly carefree life before she arrived in Haven. Some remote island paradise, perhaps?
“Hey, wait a minute,” Keira said, “This looks familiar. Isn't that the Farmer constellation over there?”
“I never studied them,” Erol admitted.
He followed her gaze, squinting, but couldn't make out any sort of picture, even when she sat up and tried pointing it out to him.
“Oh! Well, that's his hoe, right? So if you just follow it down, like this—Ah!”
Erol grabbed her leather gauntlet-covered forearm a little tighter than he meant to, but softened his grip when she flinched. After releasing her wrist, he pulled her into his embrace for a hasty, apologetic hug, realizing he'd gone too far. He hated feeling inadequate and he was used to taking that out on the people around him. Keira gasped as she snuggled into his chest, but squirmed. He pulled away, thinking she must be shy or at the very least understandably nervous when they'd just met, but he wasn't prepared for what came next. She slapped him across the face and he was too stunned to react. Then she crossed her arms, stuck out her chin, and turned her back to him.
“I told you! I'm not that kind of girl. Now take me home, this minute!”
There was a long silence as Erol rubbed his stinging cheek and glowered at her very short ponytail. He concentrated on keeping his temper in check, afraid of what might happen if he didn't. He'd finally counted to ten, when she turned around, tears streaming down as she sniffled loudly. Fuck! Why the hell was she crying? She was the one who had hit him! Not the other way around.
“I forgot. I—I can't go home. Can I?” Keira asked, “I... want... daddy.”
The rest of Erol's rage crumpled into a hollow sense of awkward success. He wanted to be the one she turned to for help and, now that she had, instead of feeling good about it, he felt like a complete and utter asshole. Normally that was a good feeling for him. It meant he'd proven himself and forced his will on all the other assholes that paraded through his life in a never ending flow of shit. Now he vastly regretted putting the girl's father in jail. Erol was generally horrible at consoling people and he continued to stare as she hugged her knees to her chest, burying her face in them for comfort.
After pulling himself together, he frowned and stood up. He looked down his nose at her, his mouth a hard line and his eyes as merciless as he could get, but he held out his hand until she peeked to the side to see it. She sniffled once more and wiped at her eyes, while he removed one of his blue and yellow gloves. He flexed his fingers, beckoning. When she finally took his bare hand, he helped her up to her feet and began wiping her tears and snot away with his glove. It was disgusting, but the glove was easily washed and he didn't carry a handkerchief. He kept his voice steady and clear, hoping to dissolve her despair with his strength.
“Don't show your fear,” Erol said, “Don't show your sadness. Everyone suffers in Haven, but they look down on anyone who shows weakness. As of right now, you're a citizen and a young woman. You're going to be fine.”
“That's easy for you to say. You've lived here all your life! I just got here and I hate this place already.”
Erol softened his stony expression. He understood her feeling of being trapped, but there was nothing that could be done. He didn't even know if she was from his world, now that he thought about it. Though, if she was right about the constellations... well, it didn't matter either way.
“You're not alone, but I can't always be by your side,” Erol said, “You have to grow up. Not for my sake, but for yours.”
She looked truly helpless at that, but she stopped sniffling at least. It was evident she was trying.
“How?” Keira asked, “I don't feel grown up.”
“You never do. You shoulder the responsibility and you only feel as old as you think you are.”
Keira wiped her eyes one last time and then offered him the glove. He wiped it on his chaps before slipping it back on, cringing at the uncomfortable dampness, but hiding it to the best of his ability.
Erol needed to free her father, that was evident, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He could try to lie about his involvement in the old man's incarceration, which might work since he'd never directly dealt with the old geezer, but prisoners weren't released at random, if ever. The Baron would undoubtedly question Erol, if he noticed, which might expose Keira. Worse still, her father might have heard about the boy being locked up. If Erol freed her father without freeing her friend, she'd want to know why and then she'd never trust him again. Unfortunately, he couldn't let the boy go now. They needed a new weapon and Jak was their most likely candidate! As soon as the war was over, Erol would be able to release her father and convince her that he'd had no choice about either of them.
“You're very wise,” Keira said.
“We'll see,” Erol said, “Tomorrow, I'll help you get an apartment. Tonight, you'll have to go back to Onin's tent. It's not as comfortable as a hotel, but I think you're safer with the old woman, for now.”
She nodded, but the silence had finally turned awkward and she didn't snuggle up against his back as closely on the ride back. When she pushed off the thrumming zoomer, she paused, glancing away and then back. He was about to shoo her along, feeling depressed about how things had turned out, when she leaned over to kiss his cheek so lightly and swiftly it took him a moment to realize. Then she bolted for the tent, leaving him more confused than anything else.
From inside, Erol could hear the moncaw complaining about something and it stirred up his anxiety. What had he gotten himself into? Damn it! This shouldn't worry him. Erol began to rile himself up, preferring anger over fear, and completely ignoring traffic regulations as he tore through the streets; racing his unseen doubts as if he could outrun them. Maybe, if he was lucky, the adrenalin rush would kick his sorry ass back into gear. He needed to be on top of his game, especially come midnight, when he had to face Krew.
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When Erol Met Keira