It was just another boring day in Metropolis. For most citizens, this would be typical.
Not for Helga von Streissenburgen.
Typically, she would spend her days mocking the weak and pathetic who would dare to challenge Captain Qwark's obstacle course. Most of them failed: giving up on the first or second islands or simply becoming too injured to continue. Some succeeded with horrendously bad times and performances, and actually expect some sort of prize for such awful displays of skill. She could do better with an arm tied behind her back!...in fact, she had!
But today was just... lacking. In the entertainment factor, anyways. It was a slow day, and even though that meant at least twenty customers since opening, they were all so utterly bland with their techniques and even their failures. On a normal day, she could expect to see seven broken limbs and twelve epic falls average. Today, nobody had broken any limbs and there had been two falls. Neither resulting in horrible disfigurement. Helga gave a sigh as she watched some scrawny Markazian kid try to scramble across the small step. Emphasize on 'try'. The boy wasn't even putting up a fight! This was the future of Solana? Solana was doomed.
Balancing her head on her elbows -which, in turn, were propped on her knees- Helga began ruing the day she agreed to take this job. Who's idea was this? Qwark. That son of a cyclo-monkey decided that the people of Metropolis should learn to be more physically fit. Who posted her here? Qwark. Who else would be better to teach the people of Metropolis how to be fit than the woman who taught him how to build muscles? Bah! Trying to teach these miserable crybabies anything was like trying to teach a Blargian snagglebeast to love. It simply could not be done! Or at least, not by any sane person, and Helga was most certainly the most calm and tact of the operatives Qwark had hidden on most worlds.
The Markazian boy, by some trick of fate, had made it to the end, and was looking up at Helga expectantly. She snorted loudly at the boy, "You tink DAT was worth a prize, little boy? Tat was barely worth a single bolt!" The boy was frowning now, his gaze downcast and somewhat frightened. It only caused Helga to scowl, "You are a disgrace not only to your family, but to your entire race! How someone like you could DARE to approach training grounds used by Captain Qwark himself and have the GULL to challenge his unbreakable time trial wit such pathetic upper body strength and undignified jumping is something I cannot even begin to comprehend. Now GO!" Her loud voice bellowed, becoming larger and engulfing him as he backed away in fright, "Before you desecrate the name of Captain Qwark or his USEFUL companions further!" The boy screamed, running off in fright. Loud sobbing could be heard even after he crossed the bridge back to the center of Metropolis.
So, where was she? Ah, yes, calm and tact.
At any rate, she was certainly regretting taking this boring post. Nothing to do, nobody to see... even that old man with the funny eye had been good conversation, back on her mission to Grelbin all those years ago. The monotony of undercover life was starting to get to her. If something didn't happen, and soon, she'd-
Beep beep. Beep beep.
The large trainer glanced down at the comm-unit awkwardly strapped to her waist. It was as if her prayers had been answered! With a swift movement of her hand, she snatched the unit and brought it up to her face, squinting to determine which of the tiny buttons would allow her to accept and playback the message. Curse modern technology! Back when she was young, people merely sent quickly typed and poorly written text messages with a press of a button. But now they recorded videos of themselves and you had to accept the video message and then wait for it to decode and then activate the playback manually. Bah!
Finally, the auto-play activated and Captain Qwark's holographic image appeared in front of her, hovering above her with a look of smugness and... nerves? What reason would Captain Qwark have to be nervous? Eagerly, she leaned forward, as if that would somehow transfer the message into her brain faster. The holograph cleared its throat and smiled as it began ranting on in that peculiar way that only Captain Qwark could.
"Greetings, Helga," He spoke with a wide grin that he often gave when appearing in commercials. It seemed to charm other people and, though Helga herself was immune to (or at least, believed herself to be) said charm, he never seemed to stop using it. As if it could not be turned off, "I've got a few new recruits coming your way! A duo eager to join our little team and we need to make sure they're Team Qwark material. Set out the 'Extremely Difficult' course for them and if they die... well," For some reason he looked almost giddy at the prospect. Helga found that odd -she would certainly be laughing when they inevitably failed- but the Captain? "that would be horrible. But if they don't... eh, give them a swingshot or something and send me the video. Qwark, out."
The holographic image of her commanding officer disappeared, and Helga raised her brow in response. New recruits? 'Extremely Difficult' mode? Dying? She narrowed her eyes, allowing a gleeful, dark smirk to cross her visage.
Suddenly, today just got a lot less boring.
"Set her down gently, Ratchet. Activate the bottom thrusters to soften the landing and decrease speed to somewhere between twenty-five and ten miles per hour. Do not be afraid to circle around if you have not yet reached this speed. Upon reaching the exact spot you want to land, deactivate x-axis control and z-axis control. Use y-axis control to lower her to the ground, then deactivate y-axis control and set the engine mode to 'hibernation'. Am I going too fast for you?"
"Nah," The Lombax replied, gently pulling over the designated parking area and flicking some switched on the dashboard, "I got this. Thanks, though."
Flying from Novalis to Metropolis had, thankfully, been mostly uneventful. The most exciting thing to have occurred was the Premier of Novalis' horrified discovery that the driver (AKA Ratchet) had only driven one other ship, which was currently in a pile of smoking metal scraps on Novalis. Clank had taken note of Ratchet's progress as a pilot and had determined his driving to have improved by a short percentage. With a little practice, he might eventually turn out to be a decent driver. Might being the key word, seeing as organic lifeforms all had a random streak to him. He had learned that one rather quickly in his few short hours of life.
Ratchet surprised Clank, and proved him correct at the same time, by setting the ship down with no complications. He even jumped out of the vehicle upon disabling the engine and double checked the parking job he did. For all of his carelessness while actually driving, the robot had noticed that Ratchet had formed a quick attachment to the ship, gently petting and cooing it as he inspected it for scratches or damage. A curious quirk. Did organics always get so attached to inanimate objects? Or was this more... personal? Well, no matter, he supposed. This would be a phenomenon he would look into more deeply after Drek's defeat.
The Premier of Novalis exited the spacecraft last, glancing around with widened eyes and shaking hands. The ride had not been pleasant for him. He had spent the entire time nervously watching the front visor, screaming in terror anytime they so much as got close to anything Ratchet could possibly hit. He had expected the driver to be annoyed at this -or even a little humored- but Ratchet's glances had held no traces of amusement or annoyance, as they had at other people, but only a bitter recognition that made his eyes darken. The exchange left Clank more confused than anything, but he swallowed back that confusion and tried to focus on his goal. But he couldn't get those words out of his head.
"I'm not noble, Clank. Just honest."
What was the difference? Honesty was very noble, and to save a life on top of it all? Totally noble. But Ratchet had been quiet and less investigative during the flight this time around, only really talking to ask for a parking lesson. It was baffling, especially when compared to Ratchet's talkative nature on the last flight, even if it was short. What did the reasoning matter if the job was done? This question had puzzled him throughout the short flight to Metropolis. It still very much puzzled him.
Ratchet noticed the Premier stumbling out of the spacecraft and moved to grab him before he could fall face first onto the ground. He was given a curt nod in reply as the elderly man gathered his bearings and nodded at the two, "Thank you. Both of you. Without the two of you..." He coughed loudly into his hand (so THAT was a cough...) and turned his head away, "Anyways, I am going to go find my people and organize some sort of relief effort. It's the least I can do to help," He gave a look to them, "When you find Captain Qwark, please ask him to save my people. I'll contact the Galactic Rangers in the meanwhile and-"
"That will not be necessary, sir," Clank interjected quickly, receiving the same urge he felt when Ratchet suggested doing the exact same thing, "You see..."
"Clank's a scout," Smoothly interrupted the Lombax, leaning up against the vehicle, "Sent to check out the situation on Novalis before reporting to Captain Qwark. He'll handle everything, don't worry."
The Premier nodded, accepting this quickly, which surprised Clank. Had Ratchet's words really been that convincing? Or was this simply a man trusting his savior? "Very well, then. I leave the fate of my people in your hands," He took a shuttering breath, closing his eyes tight, "Please hurry."
As the man scurried away, looking very frail and broken but still with an air of purpose, Clank turned to Ratchet, staring up at him, "You lied to him," His tone was flat; what was the appropriate emotion? Grateful? Angry? "Whatever happened to your honesty?"
"I wasn't technically lying," The Lombax answered, moving towards the vehicle and reaching inside of one window. His hand fished around the interior of the vehicle, searching, "You really were there scouting, and you really are going to report to Qwark, and you really will help save Novalis," He finally pulled his hand free of the ship, the appendage gripped around his wrench. He glanced over it, perhaps checking for damage, "I just kinda didn't mention that you don't work for the Rangers. Actually..." Ratchet paused, glancing over at him with narrowed eyes scanning the robot critically, "Who DO you work for?"
Clank blinked impartially, already having prepared his response, "Classified."
"Why am I not surprised?" Ratchet rolled his eyes, lightly smacking the wrench against his non-occupied hand, "Well, not like it matters. This is where I get off, too," The Lombax took a moment to meet Clank's eyes, "Metropolis has been my destination from the beginning. I'm gonna start a new life here, Clank."
"Oh," The robot blinked. He had not put much thought into why Ratchet had built a ship, "So then you have a job lined up for you?"
"Well, no..."
"A place to stay?"
"No..."
Clank tilted his head to the side, "Do you know anybody here?"
"This was supposed to be a fresh start," Ratchet shrugged. Clank shook his head; Ratchet had charged headfirst into a trio of armed robots earlier. Why would he have had a plan for something as ambiguous as moving? "I guess I'll stay at a shelter 'til I can get a job and go from there. Anywhere's better than Veldin," This last statement was added with a bitter tone.
His processor took a moment to contemplate the full meaning of this. What would not having Ratchet along entail? Well, he would be slower, for starters. And have a harder time facing down the Blargians directly. He could be a bit more stealthy, but would that really provide any aid? Not to mention Captain Qwark...
Something clicked in his memory banks, "At least come with me to see Captain Qwark. He would be able to write you a letter of recommendation. I am certain you could obtain any job you could ever want with that."
He was looked at oddly, Ratchet's eyes scanning over him. Finally, the Lombax nodded, pushing back against the ship as he started walking forward, "Alright. Look's like we're stickin' together 'til Al's Robot Shack."
As they walked forward together, deciding not to stick Clank to Ratchet's back again, the robot buried himself in thought. He must find Captain Qwark in this city. If he did not, then he would have to leave to stop the Blargians and continue the search on his own. Already he did not like that prospect, considering the fate of the first ship he obtained (and ignoring the eerily similar fate of the second). In addition to that... he found that the prospect of Ratchet being alone in this city, unable to support himself, unsettled him. Perhaps the Captain could help the Lombax find a nice job and a nice apartment. Maybe he would even offer Ratchet something himself when Clank would honestly tell him about all that Ratchet had done to further his efforts to stop Drek.
The word 'wish' occurred to him. A somewhat childish way of desiring something. He wished Ratchet good fortune. It was the least he could do.
He was lost in his own thoughts. It took Ratchet pausing to ask directions, and Clank unknowingly walking into him, to shake the robot out of his daydreaming. What was he doing? He could not sit around and 'wish' while there was work to be done! Quickly, he started scanning around, looking for any clues that could aid in finding the Captain. His optics widened when, instead of a clue, he spotted the Captain himself. Standing in front of a large obstacle course. With a spring attached to his torso... curious, but only barely noteworthy.
He grasped Ratchet's hand and pulled, ignoring the surprised yelp or the annoyed expression of the Cazar he was questioning. He could not believe this! What luck they had, running into Qwark under such circumstances. Funny, he would have assumed that the Captain was taller... but it did not matter. Finally, this quest could be put to rest!
"Uh, Clank," Ratchet asked as he allowed himself to be pulled along, "Where are we going?"
"The Captain!" The robot exclaimed in response, highly elated, "The Captain is right over there-! Oh! You wait here; I will make introductions!" Ignoring Ratchet's puzzlement, he raced ahead as fast as his small metal legs could carry him, stopping in front of the Captain. Qwark did not seem to notice him at first, so he spoke up, "Captain Qwark-"
"Welcome to the Captain Qwark Fitness Course!" The Captain greeted with glowing blue eyes and a stoic expression. Clank opened his mouth to speak, but the Captain continued talking, "If you're strong enough!" He made flexing movements, "Fast enough!" He folded his hands behind his back, "And clever enough!" Here, he tapped his skull, "To beat my time on the fitness course, then my own personal trainer, Helga von Streissenburgen, will grant you a prize! Simply make your way to the third island to complete the course. Good luck!"
"Captain," Clank spoke up, "While physical fitness is an important part of every organic lifeforms' routine, I must implore you to-"
The Captain interrupted, still stoic, "Qwark enterprises is not responsible for any sprains, broken bones, snapped tendons, bruised egos or accidental death incurred while running the course."
With a blink, the robot continued to speak, "No, Captain, you do not understand. There is imminent danger to the galaxy and we urgently need your assistance," The Captain did not respond, "There is an army of Blargians taking apart planets for their own selfish purposes! We must stop them!"
"Clank?" He turned around to face Ratchet, who looked... amused? The same glint of light that was in his eye during his laughing fit was there now, so he could only assume Ratchet found something funny, "Don't you notice anything... odd about Captain Qwark?"
Blankly staring at the organic, Clank replied, "Well, he had glowing blue eyes, a metallic face with a vocal dispersion unit and springs where his legs should be. Other than that," He shrugged, "nothing apparent comes to mind."
"...and WHY do you think he has glowing eyes, a metal face and a spring?"
It took a moment of deep thought -which, for Clank, meant only a few seconds- before a satisfactory answer was reached, "They must be synthetic replacements for body parts lost during combat with the forces of evil!"
"Uh... no," Ratchet was doing that 'laughing' thing again, albeit to a lesser extreme, "That's not Captain Qwark, you numbskull. It's just a robot dummy. It only says the same thing over and over again. Watch," Ratchet walked closer and stood in front of the fake Qwark who, surely enough, began spouting the same speech he had given to Clank yet again. A scan revealed motion detectors in its forehead and abdomen, gears to move it and no central processor for thought organization. A true 'robot dummy', and most certainly not Captain Qwark.
"Oh," He said simply. Then he frowned at Ratchet. Why had the Lombax not told him this before?
"Hey, c'mon," Ratchet patted him lightly on the back at the sight of his scowl, a small smirk on the Lombax's face, "Be cool. I was just goofin' with ya. Look, that Helga lady might know where Qwark is. I'll make it to the end of the course real quick and we'll ask her about it, no prob," With the skill and ease of someone who had been living in a mountainous region for most of their lives, Ratchet quickly scrambled up to a higher ledge, pausing only to give Clank a hand, "You coming?"
With a slight moment of hesitance, Clank grasped the extended hand and was pulled up and onto Ratchet's back. This time, he noticed, was .0843261 seconds faster than the last time Ratchet had connected him to the leather strap. It appeared, for better or worse, that they were getting used to this. Really, he should not. They were going to separate soon anyways...
They came to a wall. Well, two walls, actually, both placed parallel to each other. The rock around and behind said wall had been carefully smoothed away. It was as if the walls themselves were required to get past the island.
Ratchet frowned at it, "Why would anyone place walls like this? It doesn't make any sense!"
Information flashed into his memory banks. Clank was not quite sure WHY the information had not been readily accessible, but he assumed that there was some kind of block that prevented him from retrieving certain information before he needed to. He idly wondered what other information was stored in his memory banks as he began instructing, "This type of wall is used for testing a maneuvering technique known as the kick jump. Simply run up the wall, kick yourself off onto the adjacent wall, and repeat. Be warned: it is not an easy technique to master-"
"Eh," Ratchet backed against the leftmost wall, "Doesn't sound so tough."
He made it up the first section of wall with no problems on his first try. Clank blinked, befuddled. This technique often took years to master, yet Ratchet simply listened to an admittedly simple explanation and was able to do so with no problems. It was possibly that he had heard of this move before, but Clank ruled that out: Kyzil Plateau was mountainous enough where he would never need to figure out himself and distant enough to have never heard of that technique from someone passing through. Maybe Ratchet really was a fast learner? It made sense, considering how easily he adapted to having Clank on his back, as well as his quickly improving driving skills.
"See?" The Lombax commented, grinning widely, "Piece of-"
Clank's internal sensors went off at that moment. An alert: high levels of trinitrotoluene were contained in the boxes just ahead of the duo. Ratchet placed a hand on one, meaning to climb over them, and an internal timer went off, creating an audible beep. Clank gave a shout of warning; futile, as Ratchet had already jumped away from the boxes as they beeped several times more, each beep becoming successively faster until finally, it exploded. It was brilliantly designed. Pieces of the box were sturdy enough to hold the TNT, but fragile enough that the explosion caused them to disintegrate, preventing the spread of shrapnel. If you got injured because of those explosions, it was the explosion itself and not the box.
Ratchet gawked at them, eyes widened, and that thumping against Clank's back returning to noticeable strengths, "Okay. Maybe this won't be so easy," He sighed, "Exploding boxes? Really? Who'd be paranoid enough to come up with that?
"I believe," Clank only paused to double-check the information, "that the 'Boom Box' is copyrighted to Gadgetron."
Ratchet rolled his eyes, unimpressed, "Of course it's Gadgetron," He added a condescending snort, "Who else?" Clank frowned, but did not otherwise comment as Ratchet carefully maneuvered around the area where the boxes had been, wary of any possible traps along the way. He kick jumped his way up the second wall, noticeably larger than the first, and stumbled a bit as he approached the top. He was lucky to have grabbed the edge by then. Upon reaching the top, they came unto a thick cable leading to the second island, which Ratchet did not hesitate to use as a zip-line. This was interesting because, instead of using the zip-line equipment itself, Ratchet decided to use his own wrench. It held up fine against the heat of friction with the cable. Clank made a note: the Omniwrench was an incredibly versatile tool.
They ended up on a platform at the base of the second island. Unlike the mountain-like structure of the first isle that was easily traversed, the second was adorned with a yellow and black building, cubic in shape. Small platforms jutted out of the sides, with height and distance Clank knew he couldn't jump. Thank goodness for Ratchet. The Lombax scrambled up and over the platforms, quickening his pace when some of them sunk back into the large cube and disappeared. There were a few more sections where he needed to kick jump -both where the walls were slowly being retracted back into the cube- but Ratchet managed it, breathing quickening as he went. At this point, Clank determined that the pounding on his back was related, in some way, to Ratchet's breathing patterns. It was most notable when he was startled, but now it appeared when he was tired...?
Upon reaching the top of the complex, Ratchet stopped momentarily to take a breath. Then he zip-lined down to the third island, doing a short little flip as he used the zip-line to propel himself into the air and spin a little as he landed on both feet. The instincts of a feline.
The trainer, a large and bulbous female robot with wiry hair tied up into two segments, one on each side of her head, glared at the duo's flashy entrance. She scowled as the Lombax recovered from his flip, looking up at her with a cocky grin. Clank removed himself from Ratchet's back to watch the affair from the sidelines, ready to intervene should it look like a fight would break out.
The woman -Helga von Streissenburgen, presumably- snorted at the Lombax, obviously irritated, "Stand at attention, lardball!" She screamed at him, causing his ears to bend downward in an instinctive attempt to protect themselves. The movement made Clank frown; you would think a fitness trainer would know not to scream into the ears of someone who so obviously had elevated hearing, "Dat was da most pathetic excuse of a performance I have ever seen on dat obstacle course!"
Ratchet -who had barely recovered from being screamed at- frowned and blinked in surprise, loudly asking, "Whataya mean? I finished the circuit just fine!"
"Well, da," She agreed, softly. Then her voice got louder and louder as she snapped at the Lombax, moving closer in the process, "But it vas veak, veak, VEAK!" Once again, the large appendages folded in on themselves. Clank almost spoke up at this point, but Helga continued talking, "Ven I vas competing in de Interplanetary Sports Medley, I vould devour courses like dat for BREAKFAST!"
One of Ratchet's hands had moved up and was now gently massaging at the folds of his ears. He gave a look of malcontent towards the woman as he muttered, not too softly, "And wash it down with a thirteen course meal?"
A dark gleam sparkled in Miss Streissenburgen's eye, one Clank could not help but notice, "You need to learn some manners, brat," She spoke with sourness dripping off the tip of every word, "Ven I vas your age, I vould be beaten six vays to Sunday before I vould be able to talk like that! In fact, if it were up to me, you'd be drilling 'til your legs came off!" She gave something of a sigh after this, almost as if her faux disappointment was genuine, "but, somehow, you managed to impress dat fool, Captain Qwark."
At this point, Clank simply HAD to interject, "The Captain knows about us?"
"He certainly does," She scowled, "Sent me a message about you two earlier today. I vas supposed to give you a svingshot upon completion of the course, but..." She trailed off, with a smirk, "You did disgrace my obstacle course, so perhaps I vill keep it..." She shortly paused, "...unless you two vere villing to pay, dat is..."
"What?!" Ratchet growled, annoyance clear in his stature.
Clank also felt this 'annoyance'; this internal disturbance at her treatment of Ratchet and intentional withholding of the prize. Personally, he thought Ratchet had done an excellent job -better than he could have, at any rate- and rather deserved that prize for risking his life on that insane course for the sake of finding Captain Qwark. That swingshot was Ratchet's hard-earned reward from the Captain. She had no right to be doing this; it was unjust. How could she call herself a follower of Qwark?
"Urgh... fine!" Ratchet grumbled after a bit, taking the robot by surprise, "I don't care about the stupid swingshot. Just tell me where to find Qwark or how to contact him."
She growled at him, turning away sharply, "Even if I DID know," Her voice cut through the air sharply, "Vat makes you tink I vould tell you?"
"...this was a waste of time," Ratchet concluded. Clank took a critical look at the Lombax. He looked tired, but more than that he looked angry. Ready to lash out at whatever happened to get in his way, regardless of statistical information. With a soft growl, he stormed away; probably trying to figure out how to get out of here without consulting the head honcho. Clank looked back at Helga, wanting more than anything to chew her out for disobeying her direct orders and stealing property that did not belong to her, but decided such a thing would lack in the fruitfulness department. And the swingshot...
...The swingshot was loosely hooked to her belt, right above Clank's head. She was making a pointed effort at ignoring the duo, no doubt feeling content. Quickly, he came to a conclusion, and snuck forward quietly. If he was going to take on Drek by himself, then disarming opponents would be an excellent first step. Why not practice on this oblivious obese robot? He was almost under her now, and did not understand how she had not noticed him, but did not look a gift horse in the mouth. Instead, he reached up, grasping at the hilt of the swingshot and pulling it meticulously, lest he be caught and that- well, that would just be horrible. The swingshot came out of its holster with almost no complications, and before she could notice, Clank quickly snuck backwards, grateful for the pompous attitude of the trainer. Because of her, they now possessed a swingshot. As a reward for his work, Clank allowed himself a small smile. Just a small one, though.
Ratchet was still trying to figure out how to get across the large gap between islands three and one when Clank joined him. Without looking, he told the robot, "This is getting ridiculous. I'm just about ready to call a cab... think we can find enough money for a ride over there?"
"Perhaps..." Clank let his tone become suggestive to catch Ratchet's attention, "Or perhaps we can simply use this swingshot on those telecommunication orbs."
"Where did you-?"
There was an air of disbelief within Ratchet's tone. Clank allowed himself to touch up his own with a dash of smugness as he replied, "I retrieved it from Helga."
"What?!" Ratchet's disbelief expanded into shock, then faded into skeptical anger as he took the swingshot from Clank, "Why the hell would she give this thing to you?"
His own voice failed him, allowing a little shyness to seep in as he confessed, "She, er, did not."
Green eyes widened in his direction, "You stole it!"
"Incorrect!" Clank admonished immediately, "I did not 'steal' anything! This swingshot is the rightful property of the person who cleared that obstacle course. That is you. By refusing to hand it over, Miss Helga von Streissenburgen was illegally obtaining something that belonged to someone else -the very definition of 'stealing'. Not to mention disobeying Captain Qwark..." But that had not really needed mentioning.
Ratchet was silent for a moment, simply staring at the robot with eyes that were wide. They did not seem to hold any traces of annoyance or amusement. Nor any other emotion he recognized. Just this strange little shine. But just as soon as he had noticed it, it was gone, leaving the typical Ratchet hard stare in its wake, "Well, thanks. But it was still totally stealing," Clank frowned, about to correct the Lombax once again when Ratchet shook his head and continued, "Now, c'mon, we got a Robot Shack to investigate don't we?"
Clank quietly agreed, and allowed himself to once again be pulled onto Ratchet's back. This time there was a . 2383859 second improvement. They were most definitely getting used to this
.
The two spent the majority of the day walking around Metropolis together, attempting to uncover the location of Al's Robot Shack. They asked people and secured maps, but kept getting lost. As much as Ratchet didn't want to admit it, he knew he was to blame for that. He would glance at the map only on occasion, mostly running on memory instead of the actual instructions. It certainly didn't help that he was constantly switching between trying to find his way and playing with his new swingshot. That Clank stole for him. He still couldn't believe that. He'd have thought Clank was some sort of goody two-shoes. The robot managed to surprise him and, to be honest, it wasn't an entirely unpleasant experience. In fact... it was more than anyone had done for him since he was seven.
But that just brought back bad memories, so he'd leave it at that.
They came across Al's Robot Shack more by accident than anything. The only reason either of them recognized it was from the ending of that stupid commercial, where Qwark posed next to the statue on top of the awning. Clank had spotted it first, pulling on Ratchet's arm as he sent the cable from the swingshot flying outward yet again, hitting a pole with a loud 'clank' before being pulled back into the firing mechanism. The resulting glance from Clank seemed exasperated, which he grinned at in response.
"Are you quite finished?" Clank asked, "I did not secure that swingshot so you could play with it."
Ratchet's grin widened, "No," He agreed, "You stole it," The robot looked irritated at the accusation, which was probably why Ratchet was still making it, "because you thought I deserved it, right? Thanks again for that."
Clank nodded, and walked slightly ahead of Ratchet. When he wasn't looking, the Lombax aimed the swingshot at the back of the robot's head and lightly squeezed the trigger. The cable fired forth and smacked right into the unprotected cognitive casing, causing Clank to fall forward. He sent a glare back at Ratchet as the Lombax laughed, but did not comment. Maybe he didn't feel like raining on Ratchet's parade. The Lombax kinda hoped that was the case: he hadn't felt good enough to joke around like this in a long time.
The shack was large and cluttered, looking more like Ratchet's old workspace than a proper shop. It made the place feel kinda... cozy. But instead of ship parts and tools lying around, most of the mess was spare robot parts. Arms and legs. Circuitry that Ratchet could only look at in confusion. He DID recognize a chip containing the Robotic Ignition System programming, and almost laughed. The customer list was left right on the counter -a stupid business move, considering how easy it was to copy information into an infobot- as well as a cash register that looked centuries old. The Lombax whistled at the sight of it. Not even on backwater Veldin did they still use such primitive equipment.
The whistling caught the attention of an overweight Solanian behind the counter, wearing a white lab coat and black goggles. Even before Clank commented on how that was the man from the infomercial, Ratchet recognized the man as Al, the owner of the store. Huh, he looked younger than he did in his commercial with Qwark. Then again, he'd only been in it for a few seconds. The man known as Al didn't turn to look at them, only somewhat rudely asking what they wanted as he continued working on whatever was in his hand.
"You that robot guy?" Ratchet asked, earning an elbow to the stomach from Clank.
Al finally sighed, lifting his goggles over his head and turning as he spoke, "No, actually, I BUILD robots. I, myself, am not a robot guy, per se... in order for that to be true," He snorted, as though something hilarious just occurred to him, "I'd have to be at least fifty percent metal and carry an internal memory storage of at least 15 terabytes. Ha-ha..." Ratchet wrinkled his nose as the guy alternated between laughter and snorting. This guy was a total, grade-A, first class...
"Nerd," He rolled his eyes. Clank gave him a look, and for a moment Ratchet wondered if he was going to ask what 'nerd' meant.
Instead, the robot surprised him by interjecting, "I like him."
"Well," Ratchet smiled, making his voice teasing, "you know what they say about birds of a feather..."
Before Clank could respond, Al had completely turned around, having finished working on whatever he was working, which Ratchet was surprised to find was simply a pair of glasses. So the man needed glasses as well as goggles? He couldn't imagine how that could work. Al placed the glasses on his head and asked, in a more polite, business-like tone, "Now, what can I do for you boys?"
"We are attempting to find Captain Qwark," Clank explained. Ratchet half-expected him to explain how the galaxy was in mortal peril, and was slightly surprised when he simply continued, "Your infobot commercial features Captain Qwark. It was shot only a few days ago, so we figured you might be able to assist us in locating him."
"Your logic is commendable," Al applauded, "However, I haven't seen Captain Qwark since we shot that infomercial together. Damn well better be worth it, with what it cost me..." He rolled his eyes, "'Certainly did bring you two here though, didn't it? Say," Al's eyes lit up, and he leaned over the counter to get a better look at Clank, "you've got a pretty adaptable form. Retractable appendages, integrated storage compartment, Spectrum Six Comm Unit... am I right to assume you run on XP-16 Sisterboards?"
Clank nodded, looking quite pleased despite his neutral voice, "Version 7.66."
"Back at ya!" Al winked, shooting his fingers at the little 'bot. Ratchet groaned softly, rolling his eyes. Well, at least he'd gotten what he wanted: smarter company, "I may be able to help you after all! How does a helipack upgrade sound?"
"Upgrade?" Ratchet asked, taking a look down at Clank. He'd already thought the little robot was pretty advanced. Why upgrade him?
Al nodded, grasping at a drawing pad thrown haphazardly onto the counter and quickly doodling out a little Clank, arms replaced by spinning blades, with an extra one on top of his head. The odd design prompted a raised eyebrow from the Lombax, "Ya see, your pal here is a seven-six-six. That means he's one of the few robots eligible for the helipack upgrade, which will allow him to glide over short distances or hover safely to the ground. It's still sorta officially in the testing stage, but I've already worked out all the bugs," He suddenly rolled his eyes, becoming annoyed, "And if the Commissioner of Robotic Technologies would have listened to me, it'd already be publicly available. Ah,well," He sighed, "Just means I'll be the only one giving these things out."
"If I am going to be going off on my own, that would be useful," Clank agreed with a short nod.
"I'll, uh," Al suddenly looked sheepish, "Just need my fee for service, and we'll get right on that.
Clank looked crestfallen at the word 'fee' as he told Al, "I have no money. I am sorry sir."
The robot man looked just as disappointed as Clank did. He probably wanted the opportunity to play around with Clank's systems, Ratchet assumed, "Oh. Well, I'm sure we can work out some form of alternative payment... hmm," He eyed the two, as if summing up how much they'd be worth.
Ratchet didn't bother listening to them as he walked around the shop, inspecting random things. He overheard the word 'labor' and shuttered, really hoping Clank wasn't using him as a bargaining chip. A part he actually recognized caught his attention. The thing was a planet-range vehicle gear crank. Something that hadn't been readily available since ships became widely used. Al really loved his vintage stuff. He examined it for seconds before growing bored and sighing, shifting his gaze out the back window. His eyes widened.
"Hey, Al!" He called, catching the two nerds' attention, "Does that dinosaur in the back still run?"
He received a puzzled look, "THAT old thing? It hasn't worked since I was the size of a Pulsar 20-B Rocket Cannon."
Why he was doing this he wasn't sure, but before he could take it back the words fell out of his mouth, "I bet you one helipack upgrade that I can get it running again."
"Deal," The Solanian smirked, "and good luck. Not even Harrington's Repairs could fix that old thing up. I very much doubt you could."
Silently, Ratchet whispered, "Challenge accepted," and donned his Omniwrench, getting to work. He loved his Omniwrench. It was not only a useful, all-around versatile tool: it was also a wrench. There was whispering behind him, but Ratchet ignored it, instead crawling under the old floater and getting to work. It was a delivery truck, from way back when wheels were going out of style. It had been converted into a flying truck by simply removing the wheels and adding the necessary parts. A clumsy, but cost-effective move. If it was being treated like your average hovercar, then it was no wonder no one could fix it. Certainly enough, the problem was a power failure. The truck's old battery was no longer transmitting to the thrusters below it, resulting in them failing to work. Not a problem. Replace the battery, check the wiring and double-check each thruster. They worked on an open-circuit system, so if even one thing was wrong, the whole system would crash.
Finally, Ratchet climbed out, feeling rather than seeing oil on his fur, and climbed into the truck, pushing the start-up button. The truck purred to life, hovering several feet off the ground before zooming moving forward; slowly, but still fast enough to catch the Lombax mechanic off guard. Ratchet gasped, falling forward onto the gear crank. Oh. It was in 'drive'... who the hell left it in drive?!
After climbing out of the vehicle and scolding Al rather thoroughly for almost causing him to crash, the three returned into the shop, "Alright," Al grumbled, "A promise is a promise. Come up here, little guy," He grasped Clank by the hand and pulled him behind the counter, beginning to work, "This won't hurt a bit, I promise."
The word 'hurt' caused Ratchet's ears to straighten instinctively. This was not helped at all by Clank's shocked exclamation, which was followed by some very mechanical sounds. He attempted to see around Al as he worked, but couldn't get a good view of anything. What was he doing to Clank? Hopefully they hadn't just agreed to equip him with some buggy, half-assed-
"Ta-da!" Al proudly presented Clank, who looked normal for all of three seconds before quickly retracting his limbs and replacing them with the blades seen on the sketch... only better.
"Ratchet," Clank spoke neutrally, "Earlier you asked me to be 'cool'. Am I cool now?"
The Lombax chuckled again, feeling relieved, "Yeah, you da man, Clank," It looked like this Al guy was the real deal, and this helipack upgrade... looked ridiculous. But Clank demonstrated exactly what it could do by hopping off the counter and slowly levitating to the ground, blades whipping loudly as he did. Clank's lack of any climbing ability would be rectified now, so hopefully the robot would be alright on his own.
Oh, right. This was where they were to part. Al shouted that he was welcome to the duo, but he was mostly ignored. Instead, Ratchet focused his attention on the robot. He looked almost... sad.
"I am going to search the city and inquire more about Captain Qwark's location. Thank you for all of your help. Good luck on your new life, Ratchet."
He gave the best smile to Clank that he could. It was a pain to admit, but he was going to miss the little robot, "Good luck finding Captain Qwark," He snorted, "If our luck so far is any indication, you'll need it. Let me know the next time you're in Metropolis," He gave a smirk, "Oh, and take care of the ship. If we ever meet again and she has ONE scratch on her, I'll turn you into a toaster oven," Clank looked genuinely afraid at that. Ratchet had to laugh, "Kidding! Stop taking things so seriously," He walked towards the front entrance, noticing how Clank was heading out the back, "Stay cool, Clank," Ratchet gave a short wave and walked out into the bustling city.
Now, to find a job...
"Well, Mister..."
"Please, sir," The Lombax interrupted with a smile he hoped was professional, "Just call me Ratchet."
"Ratchet," The man repeated, tasting the name on his lips, before continuing, "I have to admit, it's highly... unusual for me to conduct an interview with a boy wearing only a pair of pants," He nodded briefly to Ratchet's clothing, to which the Lombax discreetly blushed, "but given the circumstances, not to mention the brilliant repair job you did on Bluebird," He motioned to a small blue ship, levitating slightly off the ground. Said ship was little more than rusted parts and duck tape when Ratchet had arrived, "I think I can overlook it just this once."
"So," It was hard not to let his excitement shine through, "Does that mean I have the job, sir?"
"Now don't get your hopes up, kid," The head mechanic responded in a tone that reminded the Lombax way too much of Doc Know-It-All for him to be comfortable, "I've seen sixteen applications today, Ratchet, and almost all of them had completed higher levels of education than you. More unsettling, however, was the fact that you did not list your age or give any identification. You understand that we can hire you regardless of your age, so long as you're a registered citizen of Solana, right?"
"Yeah," Ratchet tried not to let his disappointment show in his voice, "I know. Listen, thanks for the interview, sir. I'll come by next week to see if I have the job."
The head mechanic nodded, a brief smile on his face, "Hey, for the record, kid... ya got skills. I don't think you should be wasting them on fixing commercial ships," He shrugged, "But that's what I do and it's a living so... yeah," He stood as Ratchet did, leaning over and extending his hand out. Ratchet met him halfway and shook, "It was a pleasure meetin' you, Ratchet. See ya in a week."
"Yeah," Ratchet's response wasn't so enthused. He kept his face impartial as he walked through the large bay where mechanics twice his age worked on ships, robots and random appliances. When he'd first walked in this had seemed like a dream job. Now it felt monotonous and repetitive. But it was what normal people did, and hadn't that been his intention from the start? Sigh. He was already starting to miss Clank.
The robot hadn't left yet. Ratchet had walked by the ship once or twice and it was still there. Or at least, it had been before the interview. They hadn't run into each other since Al's, though. The robot must still have been asking around about Captain Qwark. It had been hours, though, and with Clank's unusual streak of bad luck, he doubted the robot had found anything. All the same, Ratchet had been keeping his own ear open as well; eyes peeled for anyone that might recognize Qwark. So far he was having about as good a time of it as he imagined Clank to be, but he hadn't really been trying, either so...
His next destination was Metropolis Tram Center Epsilon. They needed a new technician and, while Ratchet wasn't as good with computers as he was with mechanics, he wasn't terrible with them, either. It wouldn't be too long before he got the hang of it. Assuming he could get the job, that was. Ratchet wasn't pretending to be optimistic about this, especially after the disastrous results of his first interview. He was young in a city full of willing workers -lots with more formal education than he'd ever had. He'd have to be good if he wanted to make it here.
The train station was nearly empty by this time. It was just before your average second-shift worker would be released from their menial labor, so it wasn't terribly surprising that they'd be near empty before the rush. Ratchet was grateful for that, at least. The last thing he needed right now was a crowd.
"Hello?" The Lombax called into the station interior. Regardless of the lack of customers, there should have been someone there. It was spooky how quiet this place was, really, "Hello-"
A hand clamped around his mouth, cutting him off. Before he could react and knock whoever dared to touch him, a quiet and familiar voice harshly shushed him. Standing on a crate beside him was Clank, optics gazing into him with surprise. He probably looked the same, though, so he couldn't really blame the robot, "Hello, Ratchet," He greeted with his tone neutral, "I did not expect to see you again so soon. What are you doing here?"
"Applying for a job," Ratchet stated, keeping his voice low as requested, "What about you? Still hunting Qwark?"
The robot tilted his head to one side, one eye remaining wide while its twin narrowed, "You are applying for a job in a private Blargian tram station?" He shook his head, "Pardon me if I do not see that working out for you."
It was Ratchet's turn to be confused -they seemed to be switching on and off that duty, now, "Blargian?" He frowned, fishing a map out of his back pockets, "But I should be at Station Epsilon... damned maps..." He scowled at the digital hologram map, clicking it off and throwing it to the ground.
Clank shook his head, "And there goes fifteen bolts. Nonetheless, I have given up my hunt for Captain Qwark for the moment after learning that there is an infobot here belonging to Drek's most trusted lieutenant."
"How did you learn that?"
Clank blinked impartially, "I overheard two Blargian soldiers gloating about how they stole the lieutenant's infobot in an attempt to discover where he is sending a series of incredibly sappy love letters," He placed a hand on his forehead, "Never mind that. It is unimportant. What IS important is securing that infobot. The soldier currently in possession of it is the head engineer of Transport Tram 17. Therefore, I will have to infiltrate the train and retrieve it."
"Wait. Isn't that dangerous?" Ratchet frowned, leaning up against a cargo crate, "I mean, won't it be crawling with Blargians who want you dead?"
The thought of that very much unnerved the Lombax. Clank was small and clearly not very strong. His main concern with letting him go off alone had been the robot's lack of ability to escape from those who would hunt him down, and that was more or less resolved by the helipack. But this was Clank going head to head with those brutes and Ratchet couldn't think of any way Clank could avoid them besides not being onto the tram, which he figured the robot wouldn't do. It was dawning on him, perhaps too late, that Clank's quest just might be impossible to accomplish solo.
Clank thought for a moment, "Well, yes, but what other choice is there?"
"At least," Ratchet paused, hesitating. Then shrugged off his own concern. What could it hurt to help him out a little more? "let me come with you."
"Are you certain about that?" Clank looked unsure at the proposal, "If I recall correctly, you are not exactly the Blargian's favorite person, either."
"I'll be fine. I've got a wrench, remember?" As if to prove a point, he materialized the beloved tool into his hand, giving a confident smirk as he twirled it professionally, "It's more than you've got, anyways. C'mon, take the help while you can get it, pal."
Clank still looked doubtful, but eventually nodded slowly. Consensus reached, Ratchet reattached Clank to his back and the two snuck deeper into the station, Clank keeping lookout on Ratchet's back as the Lombax himself sidled along the boxes, eventually spotting the transport -along with a good number of Blargian soldiers. He cringed, silently counting them, reaching twenty before he forced himself to stop. How was a Lombax with a wrench and an unarmed robot going to take on a trained army?
"Ratchet," He whispered, "Directly above you – a fire sprinkler. If we activate the alarm, the tram will be unable to leave the station. In addition to this, the Blargians will have to initiate emergency evacuation procedures. We will be able to board the train in the ensuing panic."
"Here's hopin'" The Lombax whispered, taking a quick moment to aim before sending his Omniwrench careening towards the sprinkler, knocking the top off. Water sprayed across the station, as a system wide alert set off the other sprinklers. An alarm sounded through the area and Blargians raced left and right to get into their coded lines. Ratchet took the opportunity to relocate himself and Clank into a conveniently open box, safe to watch the soldiers scramble out. A moment later, when the station was absolutely silent yet again, he pulled himself out of the container, checking quickly to make sure that the cost really was clear before ducking out across the platform and into the tram. Shortly after the two boarded, the door snapped shut behind them, and the tram started to move forward. First slowly, inch by inch, but slowly increasing in speed. It caught the Lombax off guard and off balance, though was not quite enough to send him to the floor.
"Clank?!" He exclaimed, shocked, "I thought you said this thing wouldn't run if there was a fire emergency!"
On his back, Clank gave a response that sounded slightly irked, "It appears that the Blargians have no respect for public fire safety code. This violation will most assuredly be appearing on their service record!"
"And you'll be the one reporting them?" Ratchet asked, not without a teasing tone, "Anyway, lets make our way up to the engine. That's where the infobot will be, right?"
"Hopefully."
Ratchet gave a frown at that, "Hopefully?" He waited for a response for a few moments, but Clank must have taken that as a rhetorical question because there was no reply. With a hint of annoyance to add to his already decreasing mood, Ratchet crept through the near empty cargo hold. The next train, which caused the Lombax to gasp and jump, was loaded with the same type of war bots they encountered on Novalis. They were deactivated, but it still made his heart skip a beat to see them again, especially in a place like Metropolis. Was Kerwan their next target? Surely not – the Galactic Rangers would most definitely notice an attack on the capital of the solar system. Or was Drek getting careless?
The next tram was a passenger tram. While it was devoid of passengers, there was quite a stockpile of weapons taking the seats of the Blargian soldiers. Ratchet whistled at the sight of them, removing a nearby pyrocitor with a grin. What a beauty!
"Ratchet, put that back!" The robot strapped to his back scolded.
Reluctantly, the Lombax replaced the weapon on top of the stockpile, "Alright, geez," He raised an eyebrow, "Well, at least we know why this thing took off, right? I mean, even if this wasn't illegal, the weapons in here have got to be worth millions in bolts. Makes sense to protect your investments – especially from the authorities coming to check up on that false alarm."
"Indeed," The robot replied simply, sounding contemplative. Each syllable fell off of his tongue as if the word itself was being dissected. Walking forward, the two made their way towards the next car, which Clank warned would be the engine room. Back against the wall and wrench at ready, the Lombax waited for a second... two... and then kicked the door open, HV cop style, and stepped forward, knocking out the conductor with one clean swipe of his wrench.
...or at least he would have, had there been any conductor to knock out.
Ears lowered in suspicion, Ratchet crept forward, at ready for anything that might approach them. Unfortunately for the poor infobot, 'anything' happened to include it, and it got within range of Ratchet's field of vision. Spooked, the Lombax quickly struck it with his wrench, knocking it against a nearby wall. He blinked in surprise, hearing Clank exclaim behind him and unlatch himself, running to the machine's aid. His antenna pulsated red as he looked it over, "You have done quite a number on this infobot. Memory bank capacity at 34%. Backup memory at 48%. And most of it is... ugh!" The robot reared away from the machine in shock. Ratchet tilted his head in curiosity, "Ah... never mind, it is not important. But there is... ah!" Clank grinned triumphantly, "An audio message. Initiating playback."
Lt: Greetings, Executive Chairman Drek!
CD: Dispense with the pleasantries, lieutenant. My sources tell me you're behind schedule. You must prepare this planet to be harvested for our new world!
LT: Yes, sir. As you can see, everything is moving along, as planned.
CD: I'm counting on you, Lieutenant. And as your former commander can tell you, I don't take disappointment well...
LT: Yes, sir! I won't fail.
The infobot shrunk in size, moving instinctively towards the member of the duo that did not bat its brains in. Clank took the little thing into his hands, resisting the urge to coo at it reassuringly. Instead, he simply smiled and placed it into his storage compartment with the others. Then, with a sterner expression, he turned to Ratchet, "The Chairman has initiated an attack on another planet," He paused, wondering how the Lombax would take his hypothesis, "This likely means that he is done with Novalis," Ratchet gave a short curse, looking down. His eyes were not visible, nor was his mouth, but his posture suggested he was holding back... something. Clank could not tell what, "I must hurry to find Captain Qwark and rescue this planet! The coordinates for Aridia are still good. I will head there next and attempt to find Captain Qwark before making a rescue attempt," He frowned, "Hopefully it will go better than Novalis."
"Yeah," Ratchet seemed distant. Clank wondered if he even knew what they had been talking about, "C'mon, I'll walk ya to your ship... as soon as this train stops," He scowled in annoyance, then turned completely and started playing with the controls before Clank could stop him, "I'll try to get this thing to stop at the next station, which is – ugh, you've gotta be kidding me," He groaned and Clank assumed the next stop, taking into account Ratchet's annoyance and the things that cause it, must have been Station Epsilon.
The robot made a short nod, looking back into the weapons cart. If he was going on his own, then it would be nice to be armed. Besides, technically he had the authorization to carry these weapons, as all robots from the Blargian army did. With a critical glance, he climbed onto a table and looked into one of the crates resting upon the seats. There was the pyrocitor, a blaster...
"CLANK!"
The robot was not sure quite why his name had been called, but understood a second later, dangling from the grips of a Blargian soldier. Judging from his outfit, most likely the conductor. Clank pondered, briefly, on the possible location of the man before he was tossed on an arch over the car, on his back. By the time his servos responded hoist him off the ground, he was staring down the barrel of a blaster. Having never been in this type of situation before, Clank did as any robot would do.
He froze.
The Blargian's eyes glinted with cruel delight. He cocked the blaster, aimed at Clank's head -and, as a result, his central processor- and... dropped the gun, falling to the ground as a weight fell on him. Ratchet had tackled the Blargian from behind, it seemed, and was currently wrestling with him, rolling on the ground as punches and kicks flew. It seemed Ratchet's wrench was not much help to him now. It was strapped to his waist, where it had been when Ratchet had begun hacking the controls. Clank could only watch in awe as Ratchet fought.
The train was slowing, Clank realized with a start. They were approaching the station and if they were still fighting like that, they could get in trouble. The very last thing Clank needed was to be arrested, and he was certain that a fight would result in just that. But he could not just run in there and break it up. He would certainly be torn to bits! And yet...
While Clank debated with himself, the train slowed to a stop. The sudden jarring of movement gave Ratchet, who had a better sense of balance than the soldier, the upper hand, climbing on top of him and delivering a swift punch to his face. And then another. And another. And then the doors opened, revealing a station full of people who turned and gasped at the unexpected sight of a young Lombax beating up on a Blargian soldier. He sensed the eyes of the people and looked up, slowly coming to the revelation of his own appearance. Damn it, it must look like HE was the bad guy!
"Ratchet-" Clank intercepted his thoughts, having completed his own internal debate. A security guard had seen the commotion and was calling for backup. They had to evacuate the area, and fast.
"I know!" The Lombax called, quickly pulling Clank onto his back. The robot counted a 0.879445 second improvement before they took off. Ratchet was also moving faster too, but was that because of their growing familiarity or because they were being chased.
Suddenly, the Lombax stopped, despite the rapidly approaching police, "Ratchet! What are you-?"
"Think we can make it?" The Lombax asked, breathless. In the area just below them, low and behold, was their vehicle. What luck, if such a thing existed. Clank did the math in his head, which took a mere second and a half. From this height, they COULD make it, but Ratchet would probably break a limb and he did not have the time to look for nanotech. On the other hand, his helipack might be able to support both of their weights for most of the distance. A brief rechecking of the numbers and...
"Yes," He answered sharply, "Jump! Before we get caught!"
Ratchet nodded, going over the edge with a dramatic scream. Clank timed their descent, and on the seventh second, activated his helipack and carefully landed them on the pad below. The robot was surprised to realize that, with the helipack in use, he possessed ascendancy of their movement. Yes, Ratchet could influence its direction, but he was in control over the timing of it. Incredible.
"C'mon!" Ratchet pulled open the hood of the vehicle, hopping in an unhooking Clank at the same time. He blinked as he was set into the co-pilot's seat, Ratchet himself taking the wheel. But... was Ratchet not...
"Stop! Get back here!"
...oh. Now he understood.
"My apologies, Ratchet," He spoke hurriedly, hoping to convey as quickly as possible how sorry he was about this, "It appears that accepting your help has hindered your goal of living in Metropolis."
"What?" The Lombax asked, looking incredulous. He gave the robot a smile, but it was another fake one... one that was not embarrassed... it was... pained, perhaps? After having all your goals crushed in a few hours, he could not imagine anything else fitting, "Nah. Seriously, its fine. I didn't like Metropolis much anyways," His eyes darkened as he spoke, "Too many crowds."
The words did not stop the odd gnawing at Clank's core as they took off.
"Uh... no, that's not Captain Qwark, you numbskull. It's just a robot dummy."
"...oh."
Hmm...
"Be warned: it is not an easy technique to master-"
"Eh. Doesn't sound so tough."
Interesting...
"You stole it!"
"Incorrect!"
Captain Qwark frowned at the images surrounding him. Videos of all kinds. Of fighting and talking and walking and interviews and questions. And all of it starring Ratchet and Clank, the two new heroes to end up in Metropolis. The ones searching for him so meticulously.
He grinned.
"Well, won't this be interesting?" He asked the images on the screen, "You're certainly worth more than I gave you credit for, boys. Okay then," He leaned back, placing his arms behind his head, "Come and find me. I'll be waiting for you."
Disclaimer: Ratchet and Clank do not belong to me.
Authoress' Notes: OMG Captain Qwark cameo! (Squee)
No, seriously, this chapter I have mixed feelings about. The first half, with Al and the obstacle course? Awesome. The other half? Eh. It really helped that I came into this knowing exactly what I wanted to do for the first part... but forgot about the infobot 'til I replayed the level... so that's a thing. And about Ratchet and Clank almost splitting up... well, it didn't really fit my story to have them just stick together. So I made this up. Ratchet attempting to have a normal life!...he was doomed from the start. We all knew that. Also, maps. I HATE MAPS. Could never read them. It kinda shows in Ratchet, huh?
What did I do good on?: The whole 'Clank steals' thing. Yeah, I actually LIKE that. It may seem odd, but I don't think Clank's all that much a stickler for the law. Rather, he does what he believes is right, regardless of legalities. Yes, most times following the law is what is just, but I think Clank would be willing to go outside the law if it meant doing the right thing.
What did I fail on?: Hey, ya know what I just realized? Writing about platforming is boring.
Random Question for Reviewers: Does anyone else kinda wish you could wipe the smirk off of Helga's face? I certainly do...