Written in conjunction with wrenchmxster on tumblr, originally as an RP. Several chapters will be posted today, and new ones will be added as the RP continues.
"…Clank?"
The battle was supposed to be over. Ratchet and Clank just spent three days hard at work, doing what, apparently, they do best. Escorting evacuee transports off the planet, sabotaging enemy operations, and fighting from every conceivable angle until, with the strength of the Defense Force reinforcements that arrived on day three behind them, they sent the Zarethian invaders packing. Meridian City is supposed to be safe again.
So why was Clank, here in the briefing room at the Planetary Defense Center, covered in blood? Whose blood was that?
"What's going on? What happened to you?" All concern, Ratchet rushed straight over, rounding the conference table and kneeling next to his friend.
Clank shook.
"I… I… I… do not kn-jn-know Ratchet." Clank shuddered internally. He was barely able to keep tabs on his processes. "I th.. I th… I think I have a virus…"
Clank tried to recall the last three days, but realized he couldn't. Fearing the worst, Clank balled himself up into condensed Zoni energy, shut down his robotic body, and shot himself-his soul- into the nearest object he could- the briefing room's computer, before trying to figure out how to communicate with Ratchet. He flipped open a word processor program, typing rapidly.
MUCH BETTER. RELATIVELY SPEAKING. RATCHET YOUR GUESS IS AS GOOD AS MINE. I CANNOT REMEMBER THE-
Clank heard a crash, and turned on the computer's remote conferencing camera to see.
His body, sans him inside it, was blinking to life, psimorphic blasters in his fingertips aimed squarely at Ratchet.
"A virus? Wait, you can get – ?"
Suddenly, the light left Clank's eyes and Ratchet froze. He stared, dumbfounded, not noticing that Clank has left his chassis and is communicating from the computer behind him.
"Y – Clank? What's – what are you…? Clank!" He shook him gently just before realizing that that's not going to help a robot that just shut down out of nowhere.
…or, okay, maybe it will. The chassis hummed back to life and the eyes illuminated once again.
"Hey. Hey, pal, you shut off for a second there. What do you need me to – "
Evasion instinct was way ahead of him. The very instant the robot's fingers flexed into firing position, he bounded out of the line of sight, ducking under the conference table before he even realizes what's going on, and when he does his heart is practically trying to beat its way out of his chest, because Clank just fired at him.
Clank was attacking him.
Clank realized soon enough that just because he was typing didn't mean Ratchet could see it. Panicked, he found the text to speech option and began writing again. It was… odd, speaking with a woman's posh upper Metropolan accent but he had neither the time nor patience to find something else to speak with.
"RATCHET I AM NOT INSIDE MY CHASSIS. I WOULD SAY INCAPACITATE IT, BUT AS IT TURNED ITSELF ON WITHOUT ME I FEAR NOTHING SHORT OF-"
His own body shot, narrowly missing Ratchet…
Or, Clank realized far too late, it hadn't actually aimed for Ratchet at all this time, but the conference room computer, frying it. Clank was jostled out of the smoking hardware into a ball of Zoni energy floating above it all, watching his own tiny form shoot potshots at Ratchet. He dodged with ease- other than a single shot that singed the end of his tail, leaving a few embers in his fur, but soon there would be no room left to dodge in. Any moment now, Ratchet would be bolting for the door and Clank would be stuck floating in the room until something was within range for him to jump to.
Going back inside his own body was not a viable option. The rest of the room was a water cooler, a few plush chairs, and a heavy conference table… And Ratchet.
/I truly apologize…/ Clank thought, before pushing his pulsing little ball of energy towards Ratchet, not even sure if what he was about to do would work.
Ratchet didn't know what to do, except to blindly leap out of the path of shot after shot. This is the last situation he ever expected his best friend to put him in, after all, and luckily he's too focused on not dying to even register anything on an emotional level. And what is that computer over there yelling about – ?!
– Oh. Oh, okay! He got out!
But just as he turned his attention to Clank – the real Clank, the one inside the computer, and boy does he sound silly with that lady's voice on – pausing for a fraction of a second as he listened and waited for help; the robotic shell, where his friend is not, fired at the computer, where his friend is, and destroys it.
"Clank!"
A faint blue orb of Zoni bio-energy rose from the ruined computer to the ceiling. At the same moment, the robotic shell fired, just grazing the fringe at the end of his tail and reminding him he has to keep moving. "Come on!" He threw a glance at XJ0461, floating high above the commotion, and grabbed for the door handle, flinging himself through the doorway into the hall.
And then everything goes numb. Everything. The hallway floor rushed up to meet him but he didn't feel the impact, even though he heard it.
He can't move.
It's not for lack of trying, either, he did try. But limbs, tail, head and neck, everything is paralyzed. It's as if his body, like Clank's chassis, spontaneously shut down. Maybe it did.
Ratchet does what any rational being would do in this situation: he panicked.
He only got to panic for about a second before everything suddenly seemed…different. Instantaneously, like a switch has been flicked, a calming, reassuring presence settled into his awareness. Not in his mind, but with it, alongside it. It would be totally incomprehensible any other time, but right now, he knew exactly what was happening.
XJ0461 has to inhabit a corporeal form. And this time, it's his form. Clank was inside his head.
[Okay, this is not what I meant, pal.] he thought at the presence.
[Ratchet, I do apologize] Clank thought back, in shock. Ratchet's whole body is his now, and it's a sensory overload that Clank's not used to. He heard his own chassis charge for another shot, and stumbled to his feet, breaking into a blind run. Adrenaline carries both of them down the hall, but not before Clank accidentally empties Ratchet's stomach contents on an overturned office chair.
Acceptable casualty.
[My apologies!] Clank thought. He tried using nothing other than Ratchet's legs (a hard enough task already) and the minute he spied a squad of Mr. Zurkon heading towards them, that were the PDC's emergency defenses, he pushed himself back out of Ratchet and into the nearest one. At least he knew he could posses Ratchet if needed, though he swore he wouldn't take over a sentient person again- especially not invade his best friend's literal inner sanctum.
Thankfully, Mr. Zurkon are simply programmed, no more complex than most children's toys. Hostile target, shoot, quip, repeat. It was easy enough to jump in and hold on, though, as it wasn't his own body, he probably had a few hours at best before he wouldn't be able to overshadow it anymore.
Funny. When he took over Ratchet, he didn't feel the same way as when he possessed inanimate objects or robots that weren't him. Ratchet's mind was warm, and relatively pleasant, the singed tail and the sensation that he later realized was the taste of puke and the twinge of pain notwithstanding. Ratchet was 'safe'.
Clank was quickly pulled from his thoughts. His chassis, which had already caught up, psimorphics on full recharge, aimed again. Clank didn't give him a chance this time.
All five of the sentry Zurkons aimed square at the so-called intruder, but it was Clank who blasted his own chassis to smithereens.
"Mr. Zurkon does not like other Zurkons stealing his kills," the one on his left quipped, before the other four dispersed nonchalantly, target neutralized. Clank looked at the smeared blood, the overturned furniture, the small pile of puke further down the hallway (to his embarrassment) and his own charred…corpse…in the wake of the crazed robot. The rest of the PDC officers would be coming down soon, and Clank didn't need them knowing that he had the powers of a Zoni.
There was nothing left but his black box now. Clank hovered on the Zurkon's gravometric system to go closer, cautiously, before picking up the only intact remains of his chassis with his one actual hand.
Clank needed to figure out what went wrong- and find a new body for him to inhabit, one that he could stay in without issue- and fast. The blast he'd delivered to his own body had already taken a toll on his grip of the Zurkon, and he really had no desire to jump back inside Ratchet if it could be avoided.
He dropped the hardware in front of Ratchet, who looked slightly more composed than before. Hopefully he figured out the Zurkon was himself; Clank was beginning to suspect that someone wanted them dead and wanted it on tape that Clank was a murderer. Better not to talk out loud- at least not in his normal speech- and alert whatever mastermind was behind this that Clank actually survived the ordeal.
"Puny furball needs to get up," Clank admonished, in the Zurkon's deep voice. "Puny furball can not commit acts of vengeance from the floor."
It's eerie, watching the world fly by him without a move on his part as Clank moved his legs for him, the empty shell of Clank right on his tail, blasters ablaze. And disorienting, did he mention disorienting? It feels like a bad dream. Also a little nauseating. Okay, a lot nauseating. Wait…
[Aw, come on!] his thoughts whine as his breakfast makes a dramatic reappearance all over someone's chair. If he and Clank survive this, they'll have to find out who to pay for the damage.
In his peripheral vision, a small troop of Mr. Zurkon sentries hovered into the office. Oh, no. If those things fire at the chassis – he's not sure how it's connected to Clank's Zoni soul, but he'd rather not see that put to the test. What if the soul dies with it?
XJ0461 chooses that opportune moment to throw himself out of Ratchet's mind. Instantly his body is his own again and he can hardly be blamed for wiping out on the floor.
"Ow!"
All traces of numbness are gone, leaving everything tingling painfully. His nerves wer still buzzing with adrenaline and his mouth tasted – ugh, best not to think about it.
Where's Clank? He didn't see where the soul went. Where was he?!
Before he could get up, Clank's robotic shell rounded the corner and faced him. The Zurkons immediately took aim.
"Wait, no – !" Ratchet cried out, but it's already too late. One blast and it's over.
"No!"
He sunk closer to the floor, stunned, as his deepest fear seemed to have become reality. There was nothing left of Clank's chassis. For all he knows, XJ0461 was destroyed with it.
Just before his world can start collapsing in on itself, though, he noticed one of the Zurkons is still around, although the threat is gone. In fact, it drifted over to the wreckage. Weird. Zurkons aren't programmed to check out their damage.
It's only when the Zurkon grabbed the black box that he understands – that's Clank. He's still okay.
"Nice shooting, pal." His voice quivered a little as he pocketed the black box, and he took a deep breath, calming himself back down. He didn't yet know why Clank's using the Zurkon voice rather than his own, but he obediently pulled himself off the floor. "Okay, okay, I'm up. Let's go. Someone's gonna come along sooner or later to find out what that noise was all about. And I think I owe someone a new desk chair."
He headed for the nearest elevator on wobbling legs, Clank hovering behind him, and when the doors slid shut he leaned against the wall and sighed heavily, not yet pressing a floor button. He turned the black box over in his hands.
"Who did this?"
Clank looked around the elevator. It's a standard RX8 security system, normally fairly hard to crack, but most of the classified workers have override codes so they can have a place to talk unrecorded if need be. Clank interfaced with the system remotely, putting in Ratchet's code. The camera's light flickered off… but Clank recognized the residual electronic signals.
It's still recording, even with the override.
Clank tried not his own, but Talwyn's, which caused the entire elevator to fail. The emergency light blinked on and Clank drew an internal sigh- their assailant would want that power back on, and fast, and hopefully wouldn't know that the head of the defense force's code made the elevator only look like it had a power failure- no recording at all would have certainly been just as much ammo for their real attacker to know Clank was still alive, or, at the very least that Ratchet knew something was wrong, and tail Ratchet more closely.
Clank waited a few moments, just to be sure, and faced Ratchet for real.
"Ratchet we are being watched. Someone- and I am going to assume it's someone in the PDC, or the Polaris Defense force, is behind it. Your override code put the camera into incognito mode only. It would still be recording if I did not also know Talwyn's override. Thankfully she trusted me with that key, and that she's on the top of the chain."
Clank hovered over to Ratchet's shoulder, poking the only component remaining of his physical form. "We need to see what is on my mainframe- and from somewhere safe, off the HoloNet, on a computer with exceptionally high security. Someone installed a Trojan in me over the past seventy hours, and I cannot remember who, when, or why. I can only assume that plugging my box into a standard computer will only cause it to crash, or worse, spread that virus further."
Clank paused for a moment. "I have incredibly accurate targeting. That virus was not intended to kill you. It would have already if it were. It was made to look as though I /tried/ to do so. It was framing me- to corner myself into a position where I would have to be disposed of. It is not you that our aggressor wanted to perish, but me."
"If you noticed, my chassis shot the conference room computer when I jumped to it. It is not unheard of for a sapient robot to store backups elsewhere. I do not think our perpetrator knows I am Zoni, and simply thought I had beamed my concousness through in an effort to save it. Once that computer had been destroyed, I think that my chassis did a sweep to make sure I was not hiding in another mainframe on site. Thankfully, I had already moved to occupy something not inorganic," he added gently nudging his slumped partner.
"We need to keep moving, and I am not sure how much longer I can hold on to this Zurkon. I do not think I have any other options, so when my grip slides, may I hide inside you until there is a suitable alternative?"
Clank pointed up at the security camera, re-entering Talwyn's code. Slowly, the elevator re-rumbled to life, first the lights, then the cameras and recording equipment, and then the elevator itself automatically started descending to the ground floor as it was supposed to after a power failure.
That's when Clank realized that his current overshadowed object was clearly stamped with the PDC logo. He'd have to retake Ratchet; leaving the building would be far more suspicious.
And then the door dinged open, to about ten concerned PDC operatives. This was about to get complicated.
Ratchet gripped the handrail, startled when the elevator lurched to a halt and shuts down, until he realized that this is Clank's doing as well, and listened carefully as Clank explained the situation.
"Someone here has it in for you? Someone on the Defense Force?" He's not asking out of disbelief, but just because he's confused and exasperated, and angry. "Okay, I don't care what you or Talwyn say, when we find out who's behind this I'm gonna kick their ass."
And seriously? They literally just got done saving the planet, again. By now he's given up the idea of putting the universe at rights for good, or even of retiring, but just once can't they ever have some time to cool down from one crisis to the next?
He took another deep breath to calm down as Clank reactivated the elevator. While he's not against the idea of letting him back into his head, if there's really no other alternative, he's still shaken from the first experience and needs a second to think about it.
"Okay…so what do we – ?"
The doors slid open when they hit the ground floor, and, staring at the group of special ops officers waiting there, it hit Ratchet in a split second that they can't take a PDC Zurkon off the premises. That's definitely a red flag.
The officers, predictably, started asking questions all at once. It's at this point that Ratchet starts thinking faster than he probably has in his whole life.
[Get in!] He flung the thought urgently toward his friend. He's not sure if the message will get through like this, but there wasn't any time to lose, if they're going to pull this off. Whether he heard or not, XJ0461 didn't waste any time. His body went numb and once again he noticed he's not alone inside his own head.
The Zurkon resumed its normal programming, hovering alongside him in neutral mode.
[Let me do the talking. Pretty sure I outrank all of these guys. I mean, I think. I'll have to check the employee handbook one of these days.]
He forced himself to take a breath, and tried to speak. It felt and sounded exactly as weird as he thought it would. Like he's speaking inside a cavern and hearing his voice reverberating off the walls, but not hearing anything from the source, from himself. As if this whole day didn't already feel like a bad dream.
"Where is he?!" he practically snarled, cutting the line of questioning short.
"Who?"
"You tell me. Whoever it is that just destroyed Clank!"
As famous as Clank is, it figures that most of the officers reacted with horrified shock. Ratchet gave them a moment to be awed into silence, and turns another thought toward Clank. [I'm just trying to get us out of here. If you can move me around, just try to follow my lead.] He's going to need Clank to help him play up the angry-grieving-friend angle for this to work. Which shouldn't be too hard, considering he is mad as hell at whoever infected Clank's systems. There's still plenty of adrenaline there for Clank to work with.
"Put the Defense Center on lockdown. No one in, and no one out, until you have further orders from Captain Apogee, is that understood?" He had no idea whether he actually had authority to lock the Center down, so he'll just have to deal with the bureaucratic fallout later.
"Yes, sir!"
"Spread out. Search the building and make sure nobody else got hurt, and if you find anyone where they aren't supposed to be, throw them in cryo. You got that?"
"Yes, sir!"
As the officers dispersed and he's finally out of the spotlight, Ratchet turned his attention toward the front door and mentally nudged Clank. [Go, go, go!]
His body propelled itself out the front door, and Ratchet steered his thoughts along the walkway, until they reached a cab stop well out of view of the Planetary Defense Center.
[I'm gonna pay for that, aren't I?] he thought at Clank. [Anyway…you said we needed a secure computer that's off the grid but would still be powerful enough to read your black box, right? What about IRIS? Or…or the Great Clock?] He hoped his reluctance to visit the Great Clock doesn't come through his thoughts too obviously; the place still makes him nervous as hell. But if it's got the kind of systems Clank needs to find out what's happening…
[At any rate, if we're going to get off this planet unnoticed, we'd better take Perry. Aphelion's still my duty ship.]
Clank looked at Ratchet the minute the door opened, eye twitching madly. Clank took it as a sign to move in, and he did. No nausea this time- he at least had a vague understanding of what he was doing- and thankfully, he didn't feel like he was barely hanging on.
Despite the fact that he was in an organic and had no idea how to handle Ratchet's bodily functions, he's surprisingly comfortable, flailing angrily while Ratchet talks (and, whether the Lombax knows it or not, also breathes, thank Orvus). It's weird for him, and completely alien, feeling Ratchet's mouth move and tongue click around as Ratchet spoke. It's not like when Clank talks- the jaw is really only for other organics' sake, and he needs no tongue or lips to make the same sounds Ratchet was now making a mile a minute.
Thank goodness for all those holofilms. Clank actually studied the organics around him to understand how they moved, Ratchet no exception. The minute Ratchet commands, Clank breaks into a run, remembering to flick his tail in the opposite direction of each step for balance, something he's keenly aware of as he's often hit in the foot with it when Ratchet books it.
[Just so you know, and I am not sure if you were trying to think to me when we were bombarded by those operatives, but I cannot read your thoughts outside of you, nor can I just leaf through your brain- thank goodness. You have to actively be shouting something at me. Is it the same for you, or are you reading my whole mind?] Clank thought, as he lifted Ratchet's right hand and hails a taxi.
Ratchet's stomach growled loudly, now settled from earlier and demanding fresh tribute, and Ratchet, who now had control over his entire face, perked an ear at the sound. Clank was surprised and a bit frightened how well the two are working in unison, as he relaxed Ratchet's (their?) tail down to a light swish, finally getting a chance to feel Ratchet's chest gently rise and fall, smell the world around him, and feel the breeze in his exposed fur. Clank had always wondered what being an organic actually meant, and although his first experience was painful, this wasn't so bad, actually a bit… nice. As he hopped into the taxi he wondered what Nefarious hated so much that he demanded to leave his organic body behind at all.
[We are not going to either,] Clank commented about Ratchet's suggestions of their next steps, once they're back at their apartment, Clank shoving a few ration blocks, a water bottle, the hard drive, and a portable commlink into a small bag before jogging up to the parking deck. Perihelion- Alister's former ship that Clank liberated from the Great Clock; was going to have a field day making fun of the two of them, and Clank knew Ratchet's going to need to call Talwyn on a secure line before all hell broke loose. At the very least, she'd have access to the security cameras, and might be able to pinpoint some of what had happened over the last three days.
[I cannot keep borrowing you, for one, and for two, we need to bring it to a computer that will not be in intergalactic security threat if the Trojan gets through. No, we need a computer off the HoloNet entirely, that could partition off a section of its drive for analysis and destroy that one section if a virus leaks out. Blargian technology is very well known for that; why do you think I rarely get viruses at all?]
[Ratchet, there is only one computer I can think of that is still operable and fits that description. We need to see my mother.]