In the Beginning…
A.N: Hey guys, its ABB here. I've always loved the Ratchet and Clank series that those geniuses at Insomniac have created and after a few weeks of deliberating, I decided that I'd start a novelisation of the first original Ratchet and Clank. If the reviews are plentiful and positive, then I'll continue this. And you might be wondering, why novelise the first Ratchet and Clank when there's Tools of Destruction out?
Well, to put it simply, I'm afflicted with socioeconomic disparity. I don't have enough bolts (coughcashcough) to get a PS3, and besides, why start from the latest when you can start from the beginning? Now on with the show…and leave reviews! There is a high chance of me not continuing this without an adequate number of reviews, so remember to leave them! And don't expect regular updates, okay? I've got plenty of other stuff still going…
Disclaimer: I don't own Ratchet and Clank. Instead, it belongs to Insomniac.
Bright green toxic fumes choked the skies of Orxon, tinging everything a greenish colour. The green of the Blarg commandos, in sealed environmental suits blended in with the colour somewhat, though they were still easily distinguishable from their surroundings. Any other Blarg soldiers had to wear rebreathers that only covered their mouths and noses. And the wildlife? They were part of the problem as well, having been mutated from innocent, cute creatures to little more than horrific monsters with snapping claws and screeching noises.
A pair of Commandos in their green, sealed environment suits stood at the dock above a lake of toxic green waste. Above them, Blarg Saucers, equipped with powerful rocket launchers and the pilots necessary to fly them swooped and dove, occasionally launching rockets at the mutated wildlife and divebombing them. The roar of the factories far off constantly churning out tanks, helicopters, saucers, bombers, and all the required necessities for a full invasion force was nothing more than a faint whine.
In general, it was another day at the Kogor Refinery, Orxon, home planet of the Blarg.
The two Commandos standing at the dock stared impatiently at the horizon, where they were due to have the final shipment from the tank factories. The last of the Bomber Tanks was due to arrive soon, and they were on a very tight schedule to fill.
After all, a massive, galaxy-wide invasion against mostly defenceless planets was hardly an easy thing to do: the sheer amount of logistical work dictated that at least a small army of office clerks was needed to ensure that every detachment was well armed and ready to be prepared to blow away any defenceless opposition.
At last, after a very long time, the transport carrying the remaining tanks arrived behind schedule. Before the two Blarg Commandos could reprimand the driver of the transport for his lazy work ethic, the alarms blared.
"What is that?" one of the Commandos grunted, readying his weapon.
"Let's find out."
They reached the gate, where they heard the firing of energy-wave weapons and the rattling of machinegun turrets. Over all that, and over the sounds of Blarg Troopers along with Commandos shouting, was the chilling roar of a pack of mutated Toxic Crabs charging up an incline.
The Crab's ultra-tough exo-armour was capable of shrugging off all but the most powerful weaponry available from Gadgetron or local manufacturers. This meant that as the Crabs charged up the incline, their ultra-dangerous claws snapping futilely at least until they closed to a suitable distance, all sorts of weapons flew at them. Shotgun blasts from the Blarg Troopers proved to be ineffective as the Crabs' armour took the blasts like it was a shot from a peashooter. Waves of energy from the Commandos hit them, and managed to knock a few back, even managing to kill one of them as more Blarg Troopers ran up and slapped down more automated turrets that whirred up, before beginning to spit a steady stream of lead at the approaching Crabs.
Ten seconds and two more dead Crabs later, the remaining horde of Toxic Crabs reached the Blarg position, pincers capable of cutting through reinforced steel snapping at the first thing they could reach: the gun turrets. Through either sheer luck or displays of abnormal intelligence, the first swipe snipped and severed the power cables that the turrets relied on to rotate and power their internal mechanisms.
With the turrets dead, the Blarg now only had each other and their guns to rely on. Shotguns blasted, energy-wave weapons sent waves of energy across the ground, boots and weapons met pincer and ultra-tough armour.
The first Blarg Commando swung his weapon at the closest Toxic Crab, doing little more than knocking a portion of its armour off. The Crab turned angrily to the person which had hurt it, and tried to snip him in half. The attack failed as the Commando brought his weapon up again, and blocked the blow. Around him, Blarg fought and died against the Crabs, while leaving a number of Crabs also dead or dying. A shotgun went off at point blank range, and the Toxic Crab he was fighting screeched in pain. He instantly lowered his gun to the ground, and pulled the trigger.
A wave of hot energy flowed across the ground, catching the Crab in its deadly wake. The mutated creature screeched as it flopped onto its back, and the Blarg Trooper next to him didn't hesitate to shoot it again, killing the Crab and the current threat.
"Thanks," the Commando grunted to the much more ordinary Trooper, who merely nodded. They stared at the bodies of Toxic Crabs which littered the incline leading to the refinery, intermixed with the bodies of the Blarg Troopers and Commandos defending it.
All of them were very glad and non-reluctant to leave the hellhole that was their home planet. At least they'd be getting a new one soon.
The sun was shining as the light lit up the plateau at 11:13 am local time. A large hanger with crates stuffed with valuable bolts which the owner of those crates had been saving sat near the edge of the plateau, with a seemingly endless drop on all sides. Outside the hangar sat a small blue ship.
The owner of the ship, a small, furry Lombax known as Ratchet, stepped outside his hangar to admire his homebuilt ship. When it was done, he promised himself as he walked over to it, he would go on an adventure that spanned the stars and planets. He had lived his whole life on Veldin, and couldn't wait for the chance to finally get away from it all.
Reaching his ship, Ratchet hopped up onto the crate which he used as a step to reach the ship's engine. There were a few minor adjustments he had to make, and once those were done, as the Helpdesk girl had advised him, there was only one more step to go before he could finally begin his travels.
Making those few tweaks with a few twists and turns of his trusty OmniWrench 8000, Ratchet stepped back off the crate to admire his handiwork. It was no small feat, given his planet's backwater status, but he had managed to scrounge up the materials necessary to build the ship, get the Helpdesk on the other side of Veldin (and pick up a free Bomb Glove while he was at it and also undergoing some treatment of sorts that allowed him to use standard Gadgetron Nanotech healing crates also for free, simply because the girl there like him).
Feeling confident, Ratchet looked at his ship, before hitting the blue Helpdesk prompt on his glove.
"Final step—attach Robotic Ignition Device. Thank you for using Helpdesk technology," the Helpdesk girl said.
Ratchet sighed in defeat. That was the one part of the ship that he couldn't seem to get anywhere. And without it, he was effectively still stranded on the planet. He gazed up longingly at the stars that he so desperately wanted to visit…
Meanwhile, in a factory on a nearby planet…
The assembly line was working at full capacity as robotic warriors were churned out at an enormous rate. The robots' parts were constructed separately before they were sent to the assembly line to be put together for Drek's grand plan.
The robots rolled off the conveyer belt, hit the floor and then fell into the hole below to be collected and shipped to the different ships that were carrying them to the fleet above them.
To the side of the conveyer belt was a large computer screen, displaying the current statistics and level of production, as well as a blueprint of the robots being manufactured. By some random factor of chance, one roll of the galactic die, something went wrong with the production process for a very brief second on the last required robot.
The resources line poured out too little molten metal for the chassis. The CPU assembly area went haywire and programmed no more than one chip to have enormous intelligence. A different motherboard was chosen. A vocabulary was given. It was just a random mistake, that 0.1 percent variable that everyone knew was there, but chose not to believe.
Or perhaps it was more. Perhaps the 'mother' central computer had for the briefest moments a glimpse of morals, and chose to create something vastly different, as proof of the new knowledge gleamed and passed on.
Or perhaps it was nothing.
Either way, it still detected something wrong, and a large red circle with a cross through it was displayed over the standard blueprint. A very small, very differently designed robot was kicked out of the assembly lines, bounced off the conveyer belt and onto the ground. Its small size prevented it from falling into the pit, even as the computer shut itself down.
The new arrival took the time to glance and scan its surroundings, before spotting an equally small robot on the other side, with large camera-like optical receptors for eyes. It blinked once, and a decision was reached. The robot made its way over, even as a sentry looked on, its small mind telling it something was wrong, and it had to destroy.
The Infobot opened up, displaying a large screen with whatever recording it held inside, and as the robot watched, its eyes widened and mouth opened.
Something had to be done.
Snatching up the Infobot and activating the 'bot's inbuilt shrink button (which had been designed for ease of portability) before storing it inside himself, the robot looked up to see that the sentry had made its way over, and was about to grab him.
The little robot sprinted underneath the legs of the hulking giant, and dove down a metal recycling tube…only to land in the cockpit of a conveniently placed fighter. Looking around, his advanced CPU quickly finding the start up button, the fighter's canopy closed, and within moments, was taking off for the stars.
The two other fighters next to it also took off for a predatory hunt.
Approaching Planet Veldin, 11:47 am local time…
The space around the fighter suddenly became that much less attractive as the two pursuing fighters started firing their laser cannons at his ship. Green bolts flashed by, each one perfectly capable of doing plenty of damage to the structure or compromising its airframe. However, he kept his fighter moving, jerking around in motions that threw off his pursuers' aim.
Behind, one of the multipurpose robots that Chairman Drek had designed flew the fighter, keeping on its tail. A reticule popped up, and for a brief moment, the ship they were pursuing stopped jerking about and levelled out. That was all the time it needed to attain a good lock, and without hesitation, it pulled the triggers, setting in motion the chain of events that would lead to the meeting of two unlikely heroes.
He felt an impact of the rear of the ship, and instantly knew he had been hit. Reports flashed by on the damage control screen, and he again knew that the ship was as good as gone now. The reactor had been breached and shut down, and without power, he was flying a damaged, insanely expensive space glider down to the planet below almost uncontrolled.
Tapping a few buttons in an attempt to level out the descent, the robot tried to calculate its chances of survival with impact upon the planet's surface. They were quite high if he would tuck himself into his more compact, transportable form and deactivate himself. But that would mean no pilot, so he waited out the glide.
Below, Ratchet was holding his Wrench with a sense of pride as a pair of his friends left for the other side of the planet. They had offered a few teasing jokes before leaving, but had admitted that his ship was quite the feat of home engineering.
Before Ratchet could do anything else however, he heard something, and glanced up to see an out of control ship spiral down through the atmosphere and crash into a part of the plateau not too far from where he was. The crash sent a fireball into the sky, and a tremor shook the ground.
Always seeking adventure, Ratchet emboldened himself and began the short journey to the downed ship.