CHAPTER ONE

Falling. I am weightless and falling… Downwards to my doom. Unable to move, to struggle, to scream. All is lost in a vortex that drags me down, down, down. Down to the pits of hell. And that voice. That voice I know. The menacing tone I know so well. Laughing at me. Swirling, plummeting, faster, farther. Down, down, down…

The buzz of a dozen alarm clocks could be heard throughout the entire male living quarters on the Starship Phoenix. The Galactic Defense Headquarters was immediately filled with a cacophony of buzzes, shrieks, enthusiastic voices, music, and many other sounds, that were greeted in turn with moans and groans. Within a few short seconds, all the sounds began to die. The talk-show hosts' annoying voice began to fade away as it was replaced by the rustling sounds of beds being made. The generic pop music was replaced by a cry of a young male who was shocked into consciousness by a blast of icy-cold water. And the shrieks and buzzes were eventually replaced by the sound of snapping plastic and metal, as several burly, meaty fist came down upon the alarm clocks.

However, one alarm clock still pierced through the rustling of bed linens, the sound of an off-key tenor wailing in the shower, and the many snores that issued from the large, drooling mouths of several inmates. That alarm clock belonged to a lombax named Ratchet, who locked in a brutal fist fight with the clock, with the latter of the two winning

"Darn this stupid thing!" The alarm clock, who was still emitting a horrible sound was covered in numerous buttons, dials, switches, nozzles, faucets, and many other oddities, which seemed to have no purpose whatsoever. Ratchet was pounding, flipping, turning, and clogging every little item that he could on the alarm clock. However, it did no good as it continued to emit a hideous racket. Suddenly, he lost hold of the alarm clock, and it fell right on his right foot. A few choice words were shouted as the clock continued to wail, Ratchet hobbling on one foot for a few seconds.

"Son of a Quark! Argh! YOU STUPID PIECE OF CRAP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" In a last resort, he took the whole alarm clock, still wailing a horrendous tune, and threw it as hard as he could across the room. It immediately shattered against the wall, the noise dying on a horrible last note. Speakers, chips, wires, which were full of life a few seconds ago, lay scattered and lifeless on the ground. Rising from his bed and giving the parts a "you asked for it" look, he slowly made his way to the shower, stripping as he went.

Reaching for the shower handle as he shut the shower door, he turned it to the hottest setting, and let the hot, steamy water roll off his yellowish, brown striped fur. He was in and out of the shower in less than five minutes. Afterwards, he quickly towel dried himself, applied some deodorant, and changed into a clean set of Nanotech-Infused Armor. Finally, he presented himself to the mirror for inspection, pressing a button on the wall that lowered a machine to tend to his oral hygiene. When he deemed himself presentable, he began to make his way into the large cargo bay housed in the lower-middle of the massive starship. To the left was several medium-sized generators, blinking and winking erratically. Attached to the generators was Ratchet's small, robotic friend named Clank. Seeing Ratchet, he immediately unplugged himself, the cord retracted into his chest storage compartment, and stood before his partner in crime.

"Good morning, Ratchet." said Clank.

"'G'mornin'" replied Ratchet, stifling a yawn with his gloved hand. "You decided to stay out here tonight?"

"Well, I was up very late helping Al finish up wiring the new security grid. It's a new auto-defense system which will increase the defense efficiency of the Phoenix by 120. Fascinating, isn't it?" However, nothing could be less interesting to Ratchet, a lombax whose technological skills were limited to what he could fix with his trusty Omniwrench. As Clank began to drone on and on about the efficiency of this new defense system, Ratchet's mind began to wonder far, far away from his present reality.

He was now on his home world, the Planet Veldin. And a few hundred feet directly in front of his was his old garage-dome, his home. Walking up to his home which had now been vacant for many years, he saw that time had done nothing to ravish it. It was the same as it was when he left it. The scrap-metal which he had gathered from the junkyard to side and roof his home had not rusted, nor tarnished. The titanium front door still gleamed and glistened, as it cast his reflection back at him; his yellow fur with brown stripes, his bright-green eyes, his slender tail with a large tuft of fur on the end, all which stood there, smiling at him, welcoming him back home.

Reaching out to turn the door handle, he was suddenly jarred back into reality by a loud voice he new belonged to Helga, a large robotic fitness guru with a heavy Norwegian accent.

"Attention, all you lazy Level Five bums! Report immediately now to the briefing room! NOW! That is all."

Being jarred back into reality, while his stomach did a few somersaults, he finally saw that Clank had finish his technological rant, and had not noticed that Ratchet had paid no attention to him. How he missed his home. He had not been there in three years, not counting the time he was sent there to stop a Tyrranoid Invasion. And to think that just a few years ago, he couldn't wait to get off that backwater planet.

"Ratchet," Clank said. "That would be you."

"Yeah, yeah…" said Ratchet in a sarcastic tone. "I know. I bet you anything we're just being sent down to oversee supply shipments…Again! That's all we do now and days."

"We better get going, Ratchet." Clank replied, his one-track-mind working to Ratchet's annoyance, yet again.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." And with that, Ratchet and Clank headed towards the front of the starship where the briefing room was located. It was quite a long walk, seeing as the ship was quite large, and as their destination was at the other end of the ship. After walking a good ten minutes or so, they finally entered the automatic doors which led to the briefing room. Several other Level 5 agents were seated on five rows of short, ugly brown benches that faced a podium on which General Safer, a dark-pelted lombax gazed at all the Level 5 agents. With electric-blue eyes that could pierce the blackest darkness, and a strong, erect stature that was the result of many years of service in the Galatic Armed Forces, it was obvious that it was he who commanded and ran the Phoenix since Sasha left.

With Ratchet and Clank seated, along with all the other agents, Safer, who had began to oxalate, stopped and began to carry on with business.

"I'm glad all of you could report here on such short notice," he began, gazing at each individual being in the room, his voice carrying a certain power which caught the attention of everyone in the general area. "Now, you may wonder why I have called you here. No, it's not about overseeing supply shipments, which I know you've been accustomed with doing over the past few months.

"Thank God," Ratchet whispered under his breath to Clank. Several other people seemed to be just as relieved, as many grateful sighs were issued.

"No. What I've called you hear for is much more exciting, and dangerous than loading cargo." Ratchet's ears immediately rose with interest as the words 'exciting' and 'dangerous' were uttered. Safer, who now was holding an electronic laser pointer, directed the agents' attention to the hologram image behind him. A large image of a orange, dusty planet was displayed before them. Ratchet felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as his own home world came into display before him.

"Recently, we received word from Planet Veldin that a large energy signal was spotted on radar on a direct crash course for the planet. It came out of nowhere and was moving at an alarming rate through the atmosphere. However, a few minutes before impact, it suddenly disappeared off the radar. No trace was left behind."

The hologram changed once again, displaying a large, desolate valley.

"This is the Lombaxian Valley. A valley that was rumored to have birthed the first lombax. Just now, we've received strange energy signatures from this region like nothing that has ever been documented. You-" addressing all the Level 5 agents "are about to embark on a dangerous mission. Your main goal is to locate the source of these strange energy signatures, and do whatever needs to be done. You're the elite agents. The best of the best. I trust your instincts on what to do when you find the source."

The hologram went dead, and the lights slowly game back on. Looking at all the agents, which had now stood at attention before their commander, he saluted them which they followed. "You will depart in exactly twenty minutes on the auto-pilot drop-ships. You will be well equipped with the latest in Gagetron weaponry, Nanotech first aid, and other items to ensure your success. You will be successful and careful during this mission. You will watch after each other and guard the back of your fellow agents."

He then paused once again, looking into the eyes of everyone, searching their hearts and their souls. After a few moments of doing this, he then said, "may God watch over each and every one of you. You are dismissed."

And with that, Safer exited the back door in the briefing briefing room, as the rest of the agents gathered their belongings and prepared for their mission.

Home. I am going home after so many years. But not for the reasons I want to. I want to see my garage again, my old room, my old friends again. Maybe it's not meant to be. Maybe I'm meant to be isolated from my home, forever. Though whatever it takes, I will find a way back to my home. And who knows...The Lombaxian Valley's not too far away from my old garage. Maybe I'll at least catch a glimpse of it. Maybe...