R

The falling spaceship, which in the final few seconds could be identified as some kind of fighter thanks to the facts that it was both closer and had stopped glowing from the heat of re-entry, flew over Ratchet's head at a speed that seemed incredible even at a few hundred metres' distance. He only had time to marvel at how utterly silent it was before crashing extremely unimpressively a third of a second later, thanks to the lack of an explosion or sound of any kind. Ratchet was gearing up to become disappointed when a thunderous boom that seemed to come more from above than from the crash site assaulted his ears, causing him to clutch them instinctively from the pain. The sound was so great that it was an effort even to stay upright. A fraction of a second later he thought he heard a heavy thud from the direction of the ship, though his ears and he in general weren't exactly in the best condition to tell. After that, though, there was silence. Well, aside from a high-pitched ringing that didn't seem to have a well-defined source, anyways.

Ratchet took a few seconds to recover and make sure he and his ears were alright, and ran off again as soon as the ringing showed signs of fading. He was far too exhilarated to delay this any further, being the adrenaline junkie that he was, so all thoughts of caution were forced to watch in horror from the backseat. It crossed his mind briefly that this recklessness of his was going to land him into greater trouble than he could dig himself out of one day, but that very same recklessness dismissed the notion, making room for more interesting thoughts of the craft's origins and contents. The fact that there hadn't been an explosion had intriguing connotations, as it meant that the ship was probably mostly intact and must have been reasonably advanced, as there was no way that it could survive such a collision without some kind of shielding. A ship like that must need a Robotic Ignition System, which may well have survived the crash, and if so, he could be out of here months ahead of schedule!

With the thought of freedom added to the excitement of something finally happening, Ratchet doubled his pace and reached the crash site in a matter of seconds, though they felt more like minutes. He had been correct: it was indeed some kind of fighter, though one so badly damaged that the layperson might have trouble identifying it as such. He could see into the cockpit though, and noticed a small robot illuminated by an alarming red light that seemed to pulse with ever increasing urgency in tune with some kind of siren. Ratchet didn't know exactly what that particular warning meant, but it was obvious that it couldn't be good and, given the fact that it was sounding direr by the second, he guessed he didn't have much time.

So he jumped into the small crater that the ship had formed, squeezed halfway through a jagged hole that had been torn open and lead into the cockpit, and grabbed the robot by the arm, just barely reaching it from his precarious position. Ratchet gave himself a moment to reposition himself, as he was currently surrounded by twisted metal with razor-sharp edges while wearing no protective equipment, before half-throwing himself half-falling out of the craft, the robot in tow. The Lombax then proceeded to run away as fast as his legs would carry him because he had chanced upon reading 'reactor breach imminent' on the main console while in the cockpit and, as reckless as he was, he wasn't reckless enough to stick around for that.

Ratchet had barely made it out of the crater when the siren reached a crescendo. Thinking quickly, he hit the deck and covered his ears, not wanting a repeat of the sonic boom from earlier. Covering his ears definitely helped, but the explosion was still painfully loud, and he could feel the heat from it even though the lip of the crater shielded him from the direct effects. Said direct effects were currently raining down around and on him in the form of shrapnel, some of which glowed red-hot, as he did his best to shield his head and keep from yelping anytime he was hit with a particularly large or pointy piece of debris. He may have failed in doing so when a small but scorching piece struck his neck and was consequently very glad that there was no one around to hear him, as the sound that left his lips in response could very well have lost him the little respect he had managed to build up throughout years.

After a few unpleasant seconds of this the last of the shrapnel landed and silence once again descended. Moving cautiously, Ratchet picket himself up and looked around to see a field littered with debris and, more importantly, first responders en route to the crash. They were fortunately quite a ways off and wouldn't arrive for a few minutes at least, though. Knowing that certain assumptions would be made about the cause of the crash if he were found near it, and that looting starship crash sites was of questionable legality, Ratchet decided to pick the robot up and beat a hasty retreat back home to his garage before anyone spotted him

C

B5429671, once again, was. This time he wasn't preloaded with knowledge of why, though, so it was a great deal more disorientating than the first time around. He decided to do a little investigating.

The last thing he remembered was bracing for impact as his ship screamed through the atmosphere, hoping that the compromised shields would be enough to protect him. He was still here, so, evidently, they seemed to have done their job, even if he had been knocked out. An aptly-named crash report revealed that sudden power loss to the primary processing core was the cause of his malfunction, likely due to some connection or other having been severed by the sudden deceleration.

A start-up diagnostic informed him that everything was in working order, however. A closer inspection of his power distribution system revealed that although it was functioning as intended, there were minor differences in conductivity in some connections. Not enough to affect normal operation, but enough to be noticeable if one was looking. Given the fact that normal wear and tear couldn't have done this as he wasn't even born yesterday, at least according to his internal chronometer, and given that he had just been in a crash, he was forced to conclude that he had been repaired. But by who and why remained a mystery.

B5429671 decided to open his eyes, and saw that he was on a workbench in some kind of garage with a lifeform directly in front of him. Further analysis revealed that the lifeform, a yellow-furred creature with unusually large ears, seemed to be staring at him with considerable interest and… relief? Inferring a lifeform's emotional state from its expression and body language was never a sure thing though, especially if you didn't know its species and therefore the correct interpretation algorithm to use on it. The general-purpose one was usually correct for most races, but it wasn't foolproof, and errors would be, at best, embarrassing. This should not have been a problem for B5429671 as he was equipped with an extensive database covering all sapient species he would be likely to find in the Solana galaxy, but he was having a great deal of trouble identifying the creature in front of him. The closest match were the Cazares, but there were too many differences between them for that to be the case, barring some kind of mutation that had enlarged its ears to grotesque proportions and discoloured its fur from brown to gold. In short, B5429671 had no idea what the creature he was looking at was. Being created curious (with, irritatingly, no idea of why), this new mystery intrigued him greatly and prompted him to start an extensive search throughout his entire database for clues, but for the moment he decided on referring to the Cazar software package until he could get more information. Knowing that it could be some time before he found something and that it would be rude to keep the lifeform waiting, B5429671 initiated conversation.

"Hello, I am warbot B5429671. Are you the one who repaired me?" Equipped with the more detailed Cazar interpretation algorithm, B5429671 saw that the lifeform became giddy with excitement upon hearing him speak for some reason.

"Yes! You work! Er, I mean, yes, warbot B5429… 7? Tell you what, I'll just call you… Clank, for now. Yeah… Oh! Right, heh, the name's Ratchet." The lifeform, whom B5429671 could now refer to by name, seemed to have calmed down considerably after its initial outburst, though was yet quite a ways from being composed in his opinion, and even extended a hand for B5429671 to shake. Or should he say, 'for Clank to shake'? He hadn't expected to be given a name, and certainly not this soon. He would have to give it some thought, but for now, he liked it. It made him feel special, in a way he couldn't describe as accurately as he would like. It expressed itself as a kind of warmth in his chest, even though his temperature sensors detected no such change. Yet another mystery to add to the pile of things to examine in more detail at a later time. At this rate, Clank mused, he'd have to create a list.

"It is nice to meet you, Ratchet. You have my gratitude for repairing me, and though I'd hate to ask for more of you, I'd be in your debt if you could lend or point me in the direction of a ship with which I could travel to Capital City on Marcadia, as I have business there that is of utmost importance to galactic security. I do not have any bolts on me, but I am sure I can arrange for you to be compensated in some fashion." Clank decided to get straight to the point, as it was quite possible that Drek's men could have tracked and followed his ship to this planet. If they were thorough, of which there was a good chance, they would check the crash site to confirm whether or not he had been destroyed. When they found that Clank hadn't been, they'd start looking for him, by which point he'd very much like to be off-world and on his way to Marcadia to inform the Galactic Rangers of Drek's plans.

"Utmost importance to galactic security? How so?" Ratchet asked, surprise and curiosity colouring his voice as they had his expression throughout Clank's explanation. He had also noted that when he mentioned Capital City on Marcadia, Ratchet's ears perked up before settling back down almost immediately, as if by hasty command. The creature in front of Clank was clearly interested in what he had to say, and the reaction to his destination told him that this was not simply out of curiosity or concern for the wellbeing of the galaxy. Probably. As before, conjectures based on the body language of an unknown lifeform were usually shaky at best, so he chose not to act on this just yet. Nevertheless, he made a point of saving the last few seconds of observation for proper analysis once he knew more about Ratchet. It could even end up being a clue to figuring out his species.

Speaking of figuring out what Ratchet was, Clank estimated that his search of his databases only had about half a minute left before it was complete. A short as this wait was, it was too long for him to halt the conversation until it was finished, so he'd need to answer Ratchet's question. He thought briefly about the wisdom of revealing such sensitive information to an unknown member of the public, but decided that it was only fair that he knew why he would be helping Clank, should he do so. Besides, Clank's objective was, in essence, to alert the galaxy of the threat Chairman Drek's plan posed, so people knowing about it wasn't exactly detrimental.

"As mentioned previously, my official designation is warbot B5429671. This is because I was produced in a Blargian warbot factory on Quartu owned by Ultimate Supreme Executive Chairman Drek, a vicious businessman who plans to build a new planet for his people by ripping apart existing worlds, with no regard for the billions who would be rendered homeless or worse. For unknown reasons, I was created with a sense of morality, so I cannot stand by and let this happen without doing something about it, which in this case is to alert the galactic authorities. This is why it is of utmost importance that I be transported to Capital City on Marcadia with the greatest haste practicable. Can you be of assistance?" The repetition of the full name of his destination had been deliberate, as Clank wanted to see if he could replicate the effect the name had on Ratchet. He might have missed it had he not been looking, but there was definitely a subtle perking of the ears and momentary dilation of the eyes, and Clank thought he detected a general stiffening of the muscles as well, as if Ratchet were trying to suppress something. This, ironically, told him a lot more than if Ratchet had not tried to conceal his reaction to the name, as, thanks to this, Clank could conclude with a reasonable degree of certainty that Ratchet was definitely interested in going there, but wanted to hide this from Clank for some reason, probably to increase his leverage when negotiating for his compensation, as that word had also provoked a reaction, albeit a lesser one. Why he hadn't already gone to Marcadia on his own, however, Clank couldn't say. He could ask Ratchet but decided, for now, to attempt to figure it out through passive deduction. It was very possible that that he couldn't go to Marcadia, and if the reason for that had anything to do with his socio-economic circumstance, Clank doubted Ratchet would be terribly appreciative of it being brought up. This, of course, wouldn't be conducive to getting his help.

As Clank had been talking, Ratchet had, aside from what had been noted earlier, payed rapt attention to him, seemingly thoughtful about something, and at the request for help, assumed a strange expression. All of its major features matched disappointment or sadness, but a lot of the little details were off, and his tail, although mostly drooped, wagged very slightly back and forth, which usually indicated excitement in Cazares. His ears, too, seemed forced downwards, as if to give the impression of dejectedness. Clank decided to save this moment as well until he had a more detailed algorithm to see if these inconsistencies meant anything or were just a natural part of how Ratchet's species expressed emotion. He also detected that the search of his database was complete, but waited to hear the response before looking at the result.

"I wish I could, but the only ship I have needs a Robotic Ignition System…" Ratchet trailed off, still wearing that expression, eyes downcast, though Clank noticed them flick in his direction every so often, as if he were expecting something. This gave him the distinct impression that Ratchet was trying to guide the conversation in a particular direction, but it seemed to be one that benefited him as well, so he was quite happy to play his game.

"That should not be a problem, as I am equipped with all the most current ignition protocols and have extensive support for legacy systems. When can I depart? I understand if I cannot do so immediately on such short notice, but I do emphasise that time is of the essence. Drek's men could find me at any hour." This time Ratchet didn't bother trying to mask his excitement, ears perking up to their full height and tail wagging openly.

"Really? Well, in that case we can leave right now!" He turned around before Clank could say anything in protest and seemed about ready to quite literally leap into a ship that dominated the garage before stopping to look behind him, "you can walk, can't you? I'm pretty sure I wired everything up correctly but it's possible I missed something." Clank was taken aback by his eagerness to leave, but couldn't help a tinge of satisfaction at the accuracy of his observations.

"I assure you I am fully operational thanks to your skilful soldering, and must express my sincere gratitude for that and your willingness to be of assistance, but I cannot possibly ask you to accompany me on such a dangerous mission. I am quite able to complete it on my own." Clank was compelled to say. It wouldn't be right to unduly risk civilian lives, after all.

Not missing a beat, Ratchet responded, "Well, it's a good thing you don't have to ask, then," before pushing a button on the ship's hull and backflipping through the newly-opened door, landing perfectly with a smug grin on his face. Despite there being no logical call for it, Clank couldn't help thinking 'showoff'.

"But, surely, you would have to pack and make arrangements before departing, expending valuable time. Time I may not be able to afford." Clank objected, standing up on the worktable.

"Nah, I don't need to make any arrangements and I've got all I need already in the ship or on me." Ratchet answered, before an oversized wrench appeared out of nowhere in his right hand with a subtle flash of purple light and sparks and he casually scratched the back of his head with it, as if this were the most ordinary thing in the world to him. Clank had to replay the last couple seconds a few times to be sure he wasn't malfunctioning in some way, as he was not aware of any teleportation technology that worked without fairly hefty and obvious equipment, to say nothing of the power requirements for even a short-ranged transport. To add to the incredibility of this event, Ratchet had beamed the wrench straight into his hand, which would require precision found only on the most sophisticated teleporters to prevent the possibility of the object materialising slightly inside it, to obvious physiological distress. And now that Clank thought about it, Ratchet had fur. How the hell had this mysterious piece of tech managed to deal with stray hairs occupying the space the wrench was teleported into? Nothing about this whole thing made sense, unless Ratchet somehow had access to technology more advanced than Clank knew of, which didn't make sense either, if the workshop and the ship, which Clank highly doubted was up to code, were anything to go by. This served as quite the reminder that Ratchet was still very much a mystery to Clank and that he had yet to check on the results of the database search, despite having intended to have done it by now. Desperate for some information with which to shed at least a little light on the situation, Clank decided to do so.

In addition to his primary infocore, which housed everything Clank was likely to need to know in his day-to-day operation, he also had a larger secondary core which came preloaded with an extensive database covering every little piece of trivia that could possibly come in handy, and, in the spirit of thoroughness, most every piece that probably wouldn't. This included a complete bestiary of all lifeforms known to the Blarg bigger than a fly, and an impressive collection of those smaller. Though they weren't exactly known for exploration or knowledge in general, this was nevertheless a vast database covering most of the known universe, including a galaxy right on the edge of it called the Polaris galaxy which had something that matched Ratchet's physique. Only, there was a bit of a snag.

According to his sources, the Lombaxes, a technologically-advanced species of considerable renown in Polaris, were supposed to be extinct. Quite recently too, according to the limited info available to him, which didn't even mention what had led to their demise, nor any clues as to why one was standing in front of him all the way in Solana. It was, however, far better than nothing.

For one, it explained why Ratchet seemed to be both in possession of extremely sophisticated technology and living in squalor, as well as why Clank hadn't been preloaded with software specific to his species. It also complicated things, as Ratchet was no longer simply a civilian, but an extremely valuable specimen of a species previously thought extinct. Speaking of complications, Clank was now very glad indeed that he had refrained from probing into the reasons behind Ratchet not having gone to Marcadia already, as his fear of bringing unwittingly up an unfortunate situation was far truer than he had expected. Clank would have to tread extremely carefully here, and do so while constructing a modified version of the Cazare interpretation algorithm specific to Ratchet, a task that would prove extremely difficult without trial and error. It was troublingly ironic how he would probably have to upset Ratchet to build an important tool in preventing such things from happening.

Knowing that it was the time without a response was becoming dangerously close to becoming awkward, Clank had to continue the conversation as he thought on how he would navigate this social minefield, "Very well, if you're resolute in accompanying me, I won't stop you. Lead the way."

A wide smile dawned on Ratchet's muzzle, and he cheerfully turned around and walked deeper into the ship, his wrench disappearing casually with another purple flash of light. Well, at least he looks happy, Clank thought as he entered the questionable craft.