Author's note:

Same day, different story. This is actually the first of three variants of a Ratchet and Clank I've been writing on and off for quite a while, but wasn't able to decide which was worth continuing. All three stories share some elements and characters, but branch off into different narratives. This particular version was the first that I wrote, and is OC centric; Set before R&C 2, while dovetailing with canon events.

I'm always trying to improve as a writer, so please read and review. Constructive criticism is welcome, flamers are not.

Also, if you enjoy this story, please feel free to check my other stories once I have posted them. I'm currently working on both Altered Beast and Starfox stories, but have hit a wall with the latter. Hopefully I'll have something for you all soon.

Thank you all, and please enjoy.

- RevenantReaper337

Disclaimer:

Ratchet & Clank, associated characters, organisations, and intellectual properties belong to Insomniac Games. All other real world organisations and products belong to their respective governments, companies, etc. Original characters, creatures, weapons, etc. belong to me.

'Thoughts and song lyrics'

Flashbacks

"Speech"

Chapter 1:

Not in Kansas anymore

Ellen groaned as she blinked herself awake, the cold floor chilled her through the cheek pressed to the floor and her head felt like it was in a vice. 'What the hell happened? One minute I was driving on my way to work, the next I'm on the floor of...a hospital?' Her vision blurred as she staggered to her feet. 'No, not a hospital. Some kind of office building maybe?' It certainly looked like it. She was in a corridor, the walls, floor and ceiling all had a polished, mirrored sheen. Potted plants stood guard on either side, and a large blue logo shaped like a letter M adorned the walls. 'Where is everybody? How on earth did I get here?'

She tried to remember, the pounding in her head slowly subsiding to a dull throb. she'd set off for work as per normal, got stuck in traffic, gone through the intersection, the truck came out of nowhere, slammed into her car, and...

'Oh.'

...

'Am I…dead then?' Ellen eyed her surroundings through bleary eyes, noticing several pock marks and scorched patches on the walls. 'Wow, heaven really needs a better interior designer.'

Staggering around a corner, she almost stumbled over something on the floor. Her vision swam in to focus as she gazed down at the obstruction, eyes widening with realisation. A body. A dead body, and definitely not human. He - she presumed it was male - was heavily set, had blue skin with black spiky patches and wore what looked like a security guard uniform. Novalian, her mind supplied. Ellen blinked. 'The hell is a Novalian? How the hell do I even know that?' She noticed with mounting apprehension that there were several different bodies strewn in the corridor. Some were robots of some sort, some looked like the Novalian, others were different kinds of alien again; all interspersed with overturned office furniture, shattered decor, and a lot of blood and oil.

The uneasy feeling in her stomach combined with the headache from hell manifested itself as bile in her throat. 'I think I'm gonna be sick.' Dry heaving, Ellen spotted a door to her right with familiar symbols on the upper portion. 'A bathroom, thank God!' The door slid open automatically as she frantically made her way to the first available stile, whereby she shoved her head down the bowl and promptly retched up the contents of her bowels. Sitting back on shaking legs, she swept the tendrils of hair from her eyes and staggered to her feet. Making her way to the basins, she splashed water over her eyes after fiddling with the futuristic looking holographic interface, thankful that it was as simple to use as a normal sink.

Thinking about that gave her pause, and as she looked up, Ellen gasped at the stranger in the mirror. 'That isn't me! What the hell?!' The shocked looking reflection was at least ten years younger, with flawless, youthful, moderately tanned skin. Instead of short blonde hair and green eyes, shoulder length golden brown hair and rich amber eyes flecked with green greeted her vision. 'Speaking of vision...' She realised that she could see perfectly, every little detail, despite the fact that she wasn't wearing her glasses. As her eyes travelled further down, Ellen took in her now toned and athletic figure, as well as the feminine curves that adorned her 5'9" frame. 'Holy shit, that can't be me! I'm a 28 year old dumpy little legal secretary with bad eyes, bad skin, and a hankering for chocolate.' She poked, prodded, and pulled at her new face and body before coming to a foregone conclusion.

'It's me, it's really me... Damn I look good!'

Her trail of thought turned to the multitude of corpses outside. Despite the fact that they weren't human, and the fact that she had never seen them before in her life, Ellen knew exactly what they were; their strengths, their weakness', everything. She shook her head, the pain and nausea long gone. 'Alright girl, keep it together. If those things are aliens, then where am I? How did I get here? Why do I look and feel so different? How do I know stuff about things that shouldn't even exist? Am I in some kind of secret government lab? Did aliens kidnap me and shove me on a spaceship or what?' Ellen took a deep breath.

"I need to find answers."

Turning off the faucet out of habit, Ellen made to exit the bathroom only to find her self staring down the barrel of a gun being held by an honest to God robot. It stood around 6' tall and had a humanoid shape that vaguely reminded her of the Terminator from the old movies, only broader and far more advanced. The robots body was covered in contoured yet angular dark red and black metal plates, as if they were designed to be easily removed, and had a streamlined hawk like head with red eyes blazing with murderous intent.

Ellen didn't think, she merely reacted.

Her left arm knocked its weapon arm aside, trigger reflex causing stray rounds to crack the tiles on the restroom walls as her right delivered a vicious haymaker to its jaw. Using the momentum from her punch, Ellen spun round and roundhouse kicked the staggering machine. The sheer force of her assault slammed the robot into the wall on the opposite side of the corridor where it slumped, sparked, and died; the lights of its optics dimming slowly as its weapon seemed to disintegrate. Ellen breathed heavily through the adrenaline pumping through her veins. 'Holy shit, I just beat the crap out of a robot! How did I even do that? First aliens, then robots, and now I know kung fu?' To her surprise, Ellen realised that aside from some mild bruising to her knuckles, she was completely unscathed. 'What the hell is going on with me? I should have broken my wrist and my leg after that little stunt...yet I'm fine? This is getting seriously freaky.'

Exiting the bathroom, Ellen snatched what looked like a first aid kit off of the wall. 'Could be useful, considering this place looks like a damn war zone,' she thought, as she could hear faint sounds of gunfire and shouting coming from the opposite end of the corridor. Realising how vulnerable she was, Ellen frantically searched for something to defend herself with. Seeing that there was a gun at the dead security guards feet, she scooped it up without hesitation. 'Mega Corp Security Pistol, or MSP. Semi automatic, 32 round capacity, accurate to 50 metres... Kay...now I'm a weapons expert too? What else do I 'know'?' Feeling weirded out by her seemingly encyclopaedic knowledge of things she'd never seen nor heard of before, Ellen grasped the pistol in both hands, using the classic weaver stance, as she cautiously advanced down the corridor toward the increasing sounds of battle.

Though she honestly wanted to get as far away from any danger as possible, gunfire meant people, and people meant answers. Cutting through a series of gutted office cubicles as she followed the noise, Ellen finally emerged at a T-junction leading to yet more identical corridors. Turning immediately left, she pushed up against a corner a few metres away before taking a peek. Her body reacted before she could think, slamming her back against the wall as several rounds chewed up the wall behind where her head had occupied a split second earlier. Her heart pounding, Ellen crouched down and carefully took in the scene before ducking back. At the end of the corridor were a group of more of those chunky looking red and black bipedal robots, armed with the same kind of automatic weapons. In the middle, hunkered down behind a barricade of office furniture, were two aliens armed with pistols; a young looking and heavily bleeding novalian dressed in a security uniform, and a thick set reddish orange skinned guy wearing some kind of dark coloured armour.

Blarg.

The blargian was blind firing over the top of the barricade at the advancing robots and cursing at the novalian while he slumped against their cover, groaning and clutching at a chest wound. It was pretty clear these two were in serious trouble, and if they died then she might be stuck here with no answers. Alone.

'I really hope they speak English, 'cos if they don't then this is probably going to be one of the dumbest things I've ever done.'

Taking a deep breath, Ellen rounded the corner at a dead sprint. Bullets sang through the air toward her and she answered with a volley of her own, taking the head off of one robot and causing sparks to shoot from another's torso. Considering her to be a bigger threat, the remaining robots concentrated their fire on the sprinting human. Throwing her weight backwards, Ellen slid across the last five metres or so of polished floor on her rear, still firing at the damaged robot as it attempted to vault the barricade, and sending it crashing back on the other side in pieces. 'Looks like I'm a crack shot as well. Thank Christ for that.' Confident there was no immediate threat to her person, Ellen pivoted so that her back met the barricade as she glided to a halt in cover. Smiling at the incredulous looks on the aliens' faces, Ellen gestured with her gun toward their robot assailants.

"Looks like you boys needed a hand."

{()}

Commander Dirk Quarto, Chief of security for Mega Corp Headquarters was having a very bad day. An army of genocidal robots of unknown origin had invaded the facility, his security team were scattered or dead bar Phelps, and he wouldn't last long at this rate. To make matters worse, they were out of nanotech, low on ammo, and to top it off they were only packing pistols. 'Pistols!' Quarto growled as he shot blindly at their attackers from behind the crude barricade they had hastily erected. 'About as effective as poking a Snagglebeast with a damn stick! What I wouldn't give for a Blitz gun right about now...that, or a Devastator.' A low groan from Phelps got his attention. The kid had been hit in the chest when he hadn't ducked quickly enough. Though the wound wasn't immediately fatal, if left as is he would simply bleed out.

"Stay with me Phelps, I need you to keep shooting!" he bellowed over the gunfire, the kid merely moaning in response. 'Damn, I'm losing him...' "Son, if you don't help me now we'll both die, and I swear by whatever deity is out there that if reincarnation exists I will personally come back and kill you again! Do you get me?!" Phelps slumped against the barricade, his breathing ragged. "Sorry, Chief. I screwed up. I- I don't think I can make it." Quarto opened his mouth to retort, only to realise that the robots were no longer shooting at them, but rather at someone further down the corridor. "Pull it together Phelps, backup's here!" No sooner had the words left his mouth than a fresh barrage of gunfire flew over their heads, followed by a volley of shots from their side of the barricade. Both men exchanged glances before turning to face their saviour.

'The hell?'

In fifteen years of military experience, Quarto had never seen anything quite like this. Their backup wasn't one of the security team at all, but what at first glance looked like a markazian woman dressed in a white blouse, grey skirt, and plimsolls, carrying a MSP like it was the most natural thing in the world. She was already sprinting for their position, legs pistoning as bullets flew inches from her body. She snapped the pistol up in a weaver stance without breaking stride, her face a mask of blank concentration, as she ploughed round after round over the barricade and into the advancing robots. As the fire intensified, the woman leaned backwards, narrowly missing a bullet to the face as her momentum carried her across the floor on her backside, the pistol still barking in her hands. A metallic cry made his eyes snap up to see one of the robots fall off of the barricade with it's head missing followed by a dull explosion. Ignoring what had to be one hell of a friction burn, the woman adjusted her body so that she glided flawlessly into cover back first.

He then realised his mistake, she wasn't markazian at all; her ears were the wrong shape, and she had no tail to speak of. 'Strange…' A small grin tugged at her lips, eyes full of mirth fixed upon him as she gestured over the barricade behind them.

"Looks like you boys needed a hand."

Quarto grunted in acknowledgement. 'At least she's confident...whatever she is.' "Anyone else with you? Did you see any other security personnel?" The woman shook her head, bangs falling into her eyes before being brushed back. "No, just me. You're the only guys I've come across who are still breathing." A tentative groan came from Phelps, her eyes widening in concern at his wound. "How bad is he?" Quarto grimaced "He's lost a lot of blood. If he doesn't get some nanotech soon he'll bleed out." The woman seemed to stare into space for a moment before pulling a small green case from behind her back. "Will this help?" He snatched the first aid box from her without hesitation, thumbing the release catch and grabbing a vial of nanotech from within. She watched him curiously as he cracked the transparent container open, releasing the contents onto Phelps' chest wound. Quarto noted the surprised look on her face as the nanites got to work, cleaning, sterilising, and closing the wound until all that could be seen was faint scarring. 'What's wrong with her? It's like she's never seen nanotech before...'

"Is he gonna be okay?"

He turned his head to regard the strange woman, her face a mask of genuine concern, before nodding in reply. "He's still weak, but he'll live." She sighed in relief before ducking down further as the robots continued firing indiscriminately at their position. "We can't stay here, we'll be overrun if we don't move soon," he continued. A look of steeled determination filled her eyes. "Where can we go?" Quarto gave her an approving look. 'Good, she isn't falling to pieces. Not bad for a civvy.' "Security office back down the hall." Her eyes followed his gesture to where she had originally come from. "We can leave Phelps there while we head for the comm centre. With luck, I should be able to contact command and get us some damn backup." Her brow rose quizzically as she gestured to his Wrist Com unit. "Can't you call from here?" He shook his head with a grimace. "Can't. Something's blocking all short wave transmissions. Our only chance is to use the comm centre. With luck, the hard lines will still be intact."

She nodded once more. "Alright, lead the way. I'll cover you guys." So saying, she grabbed Phelps' MSP and holster, strapping it to her thigh as she checked her remaining ammo. Quarto hesitated for a moment before resigning himself to the facts. He was bigger and stronger than her slender frame, therefore he would be able to move Phelps quicker than she would. He only hoped she knew what she was doing. "Fine. But I'm counting on you lady."

"It's Ellen. Ellen Pearce."

"Quarto. Dirk Quarto."

She smiled wryly as Quarto grabbed an incoherent Phelps around the waist. "Ready?"

She gripped both pistols firmly, her legs coiled to spring. "Ready."

"NOW!"

Quarto dragged Phelps upright into a loping gait, the pair unsteadily making their way back down the corridor that their new found ally had come from. Bullets sliced through the air on either side as gunfire echoed through the pock marked halls, along with metallic cries and the dull crump of explosions. "Come on Phelps, nearly there." By some miracle, the woman - Ellen - had managed to keep the heat off of them long enough to retreat around the corner. Another twelve metres bought them in front of the security office, the door thankfully still intact. Quarto punched in the code on the keypad before lumping Phelps through the door and seating him against a wall with the security monitors. "Hang in there Phelps, I'm just going to help our new friend." So saying, he locked the door and ran back down the corridor, drawing his MSP as he closed in on the ongoing fire fight. He just hoped she was still breathing.

{()}

"NOW!"

Ellen leapt to her feet, akimbo MSP's seeming to track targets of their own accord as she unloaded on the enemy. The nearest machine got a face full of lead, causing it to fall and crumple against the barricade. Her left arm swung to a blur of movement in her peripheral vision, several rounds keeping a robot suppressed behind a water cooler while she concentrated on the target to her right. Another robot had taken cover behind a broken filing cabinet but had left his leg exposed. Two rounds from her right pistol buckled the leg and bought his head into view. A quartet of rounds drilled through his head and he moved no more. The sound of metal on metal announced the arrival of another squad of killer machines, and sure enough five more appeared downrange. Ellen didn't bother with accuracy, instead spraying them with rounds to keep them busy until a pair of dull clicks announced that she was empty. Ducking to avoid the murderous return fire, Ellen ejected the spent clips and slapped in a fresh pair, courtesy of Phelps. 'Last ones. Hope that Dirk guy got Phelps out alright.' As she prepared to face the enemy once more, Ellen heard the now familiar sound of an MSP firing from back down the corridor.

"Pearce! Move it! I'll cover you!"

Ellen didn't need telling twice.

Taking off in a flat sprint, rounds singing by as she fired over her shoulder, Ellen made for the Blarg at the end of the corridor. A flash of pain, as if someone had punched her in the side, staggered her, but didn't stop her determined momentum. As soon as she had made it round the corner, Quarto grabbed her arm and practically dragged her to the security office that was down the opposite side of the T-junction she had already passed and bundled her through a keypad locked door before slamming the door shut. The ill lit room was fairly cramped, dominated by a bank of monitors showing surveillance feeds from the entire facility. A small metal desk sat in one corner, a lucid Phelps propped up against it, and a series of lockers filled most of the opposite wall. This, she assumed, was the security office that Quarto had mentioned previously. The blarg in question had a medical kit open on the desk and was approaching her with another of those nanotech vials she had seen him use on Phelps.

"Hold still, Pearce"

'But I'm not even-' She followed his gaze down as he applied it to the bloody mess on her torso. 'Damn...must have taken one when I ran...' Oddly enough, it looked worse than it felt, although that may have been down to the sheer amount of adrenaline pumping through her veins. In fact, aside from a slight tingling and the sensation of ice on bare skin, she barely felt anything at all. 'Still...I'm pretty sure that should have killed me, or at last messed me up badly...' She managed a lopsided smirk. "Thanks, Quarto." He grunted in acknowledgment as he rifled through the lockers. "Save it for later, if we're still breathing. Here, put this on." Ellen took the proffered security vest, tightening the clasps to fit her figure. "Grab what you can carry and I'll show you where we need to go."

Ellen started to strip the lockers of their contents. A new holster for one of her MSP's joined the security vest along with half a dozen clips and a harness to store them in. Quarto for his part had found several extra clips and a slightly worn but serviceable Blitz Gun. He took a MSP from one of the lockers with a spare magazine and handed it to Phelps. The man wasn't going anywhere, but at least he could defend himself. Looking up, he could see that Pearce had kitted herself out sufficiently and was now looking at him expectantly.

"Over here." He gestured with his head towards the monitors. Ellen stepped up beside him, watching as he tapped a series of commands into the holographic keyboard. The monitor feeds disappeared to be replaced with what looked like the building's blueprints. To her surprise, Ellen realised that she could understand the distinctly alien writing annotating the map. "This is where we are." Quarto placed a thick purple digit on the screen, the map zooming accordingly to show an overhead view of the security office in which they stood. "The comm centre is two floors up, on the eastside of the building." The map zoomed out and focused on the centre of the floor plan. "The quickest route would be to take the elevator here up to the third floor, and turn off to the comm centre down the hall. Trouble is, the elevators are locked down in an emergency, and I don't have an override key."

Ellen skimmed over the blueprints until a certain feature caught her eye. Lightly tapping her finger on the screen she turned to look at the blarg "What about there?" Quarto rubbed his chin in thought. "The emergency stairs? That's six flights, and we'd have to go through admin to get there. Had some people down there, but I can't raise them on the com link. Last I heard, those robots had nigh overrun the place." The brunette placed a hand on her hip and cocked a brow as she fixed the blarg with a pointed glare. "You got any better ideas?"

Quarto's mind raced with probabilities. Logically it was the best route to go, especially since most of the alternatives were no longer an option. Tactically however, this was the epitome of dumb ideas; rushing into enemy territory. No backup, no re-supply, no force composition, and his only ally was a civilian woman who, despite her previous actions, was still largely an unknown quantity. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. There really was no other choice. "No." he ground out.

"Awesome! Let's go."

Quarto shook his head at her 'enthusiasm' After checking on Phelps one last time, he sealed the security room and stepped out into the corridor where his companion waited with a pistol in hand. With weapons drawn, the odd duo cautiously advanced down the corridor towards the administration offices.

So, what do you think? Good? Bad? Need improvement?

As I previously mentioned, this is the first of three Ratchet & Clank stories I have been writing, and as such I'd like to know whether it's worth continuing with or if you prefer one of the other variants. It just helps me decide which one I should concentrate on, though knowing me, I'll probably end up writing for all three anyway.

Until next time, please review and check out my other stories once they're posted.

Thanks for reading

- RevenantReaper337