Not Exactly There
Chapter 1: Prologue: Here We Go
Description: Finding your home shouldn't be too difficult especially if you know the way. But in Ratchet's case, home isn't exactly in the same dimension and like the streets in the suburbs, it can easily get confusing. With a broken Dimensionator as his GPS and his vehicle, things don't look too good for him. Let's hope there aren't too many twists and turns.
Disclaimer: The Ratchet & Clank franchise and everything in the series included in this non-profit work of fiction is property of Insomniac Games. All similarities with real or otherwise works or persons is purely coincidental.
"Ratchet?"
"What's up, pal?"
"I have something I must show you. It is rather important."
"Hang on a sec', I'll just close this up and… Clank, look! What do you think?"
"Ratchet, I believe you may want to look at what I possess first."
"Oh yeah? What could be better than my newly improved stunder…woah!"
"I am afraid it is in disrepair but I have some confidence you will be able to fix it."
"Clank, where…how!?"
Ratchet was laughing out loud on a bench in a rather quiet museum just after their most recent endeavor with "Mr. Eye" and the Prog Twins. It would have been annoying or rude in any other circumstance but there was no one else in the building except for Talwyn who was a distance away. They went there right after Neftin, one of the twins, brought himself and his sister, Vendra, to jail who they promptly escorted after defeating Mr. Eye.
It would seem strange that while one of your dearest friends waits for you, thinking you're mourning two of both of your dearest friends, you're just laughing your heart out from afar like you planned it and everything went perfectly. But the war-bots, Cronk and Zephyr, couldn't have had a more honorable death, in action.
Really, Ratchet was just laughing at how bad his luck was that the universe wouldn't let him find his race, even if he didn't want to. It would practically taunt him with it like, "Hey, here's the Dimentionator! What, it's broken?" or "What do you mean someone else you'll cross-paths with has it?" and "I'ma just put it in this museum for everyone to see and easily break into to get!" or "Oh, you fixed it? You might want to fix it again." It was practically rubbing it in his face.
"I just can't catch a break." Well said, in between shallow breaths. His laughter dying down and his face taking on a glum look which he had at first. After all, who could be happy with the loss of your mostly useless sometimes annoying rust-buckets for friends. Seriously, it was a sad moment.
"I am sorry." Clank said beside him, having overcome a fit of his own giggles, much less enthused than Ratchet.
"Eh, it's okay." Ratchet sat up, he really didn't mind. After all, he's probably gotten used to it.
"If the Dimensionator was functional, would you use it?" Clank questioned looking at the device sitting on the floor near Ratchet's foot. It was in pieces after Ratchet gave it a light kick. The poor thing was worn out after being used at numerous occasions and it could barely hold onto itself, until the kick which made it give way. Another way for the universe to taunt him.
"To find the Lombaxes? I dunno. There was a time I would have said yes, but at this point…" he looked over to Talwyn waiting by the sidelines who turned to look at him as well, giving him a small gentle smile, "…there's more for me here than over there." He stood up and sighed. "Come on, we don't want to keep her waiting." Nodding towards her direction and walking off letting Clank follow behind him.
Clank didn't immediately follow though. With a thoughtful look on his face, a questioning hand on his chin, and an inquiring eye on the Dimensionator, he let himself fall behind to quickly pick it up. Walking towards Ratchet and Talwyn's direction with the Dimentionator safely inside his chest compartment, shrunk to the size of whatever.
"I've always wondered where it went. I thought the janitors returned it, but then I haven't seen any janitors around that place. Weird if you think about it."
"Ratchet, I know you long for your kind even if you do not show it. I have made it my personal goal to help you find them. That is why I am not at the Great Clock."
"I thought it was because you thought Sigmund was ready to be the Senior Caretaker?"
"Sigmund is very capable of watching over the clock, he is more than ready, not to mention he has more extensive knowledge of it than I. …Ratchet, go find the Lombaxes."
"Clank, I… I said I'm okay with what I have here, I probably even have more."
"You are on Polaris' most endangered species list and your numbers have only been decreasing since Angela's disappearance and Alister's…unfortunate leave. You are the last known Lombax in this dimension and might as well be."
"Seriously, who's counting? But if I do, then what? It's not like there's someone there waiting for me."
"I am and we…do not know that. What I do know is it is comforting to see someone else of your likeness. Who can understand you and potentially share your interests and your anatomy."
"You understand me right?"
"All the years I have spent with you ensures that yet there are factors I will not be able to fully comprehend. We have our differences, some are too obvious."
"..."
"I know you desire it. Curiosity kills the cat but in this case, that cat is a Lombax who has saved the universe in more than one occasion. You deserve it."
"Fine… I may want to see them a little, even if they left me."
"I guarantee you will be doing yourself a favor."
"Hmmm, didn't you say using this thing is dangerous? We've already seen what it can do. So why make me use it now?"
"It is dangerous and I am fully aware of what it is capable of, that is why I need you to repair it with the fullest of your abilities."
"I dunno, buddy, it's in a really bad shape. I'm just a rocket mechanic and this stuff's…"
"You have the basic layout of the device. It is just a matter of finding and placing the appropriate components back in their correct designations. Much like how we did with the three and three-fourths centicubit hexagonal washer."
"I guess I can give it a shot. Heck, this mechanic's also an intergalactic hero. A broken hat's not gonna stop me!"
"We shall give it a shot, I will be right beside you. After all, you will not like it malfunctioning when operating it."
"Thanks, pal. You know? Maybe it is time to for the Lombaxes to return. Then I can be worshiped for defeating Tachyon!"
"I am sure you will be praised but let us welcome them back home first. It has been a lengthy trip."
"Yeah, sure. Why do I get the feeling this isn't going to be easy?"
"Nothing is ever easy with you but I am confident in your ability to 'wing it'."
"Gee, thanks… So, what do you think? It's not done but I think it's coming out pretty nice."
"It closely resembles a clean pair of undergarments, disregarding the stitches and apparent patch works."
"Hey! Rocket mechanic not tailor. Do you see the panel?"
"If you are to lower it."
"Sorry, here."
"I now see a panel with underpants."
"Really!? REALLY!? This took me all afternoon to cover!"
"Oh, and the museum has no need for cleaning personnel. It is equipped with state of the art Laser Sanitation Equipment."
Not Exactly There
Chapter 1: Prologue: Here We Go