It was quite apparent to the small robot that Ratchet had never heard of autopilot. Unlike the courier ship they had been piloting earlier, Qwark's vessel contained an automatic piloting system which Ratchet only reluctantly allowed Clank to set, and even so, it was only so he could fiddle with his broken Omniwrench. The robot still failed to see the point in this venture, considering the ease with which they could obtain a new wrench, but decided not to provoke Ratchet, considering the Lombax's new found distrust of the small robot.

Hesitantly, Clank gave a short glance to the disgruntled feline in the pilot's seat. He was fiddling with the computer that calibrated the wrench, the only thing having to do with the broken tool that he appeared to be having trouble fixing. His tongue stuck out of the side of his mouth, eyes narrowed on the target of his attention; he was the picture of concentration. Or maybe he was trying, pointedly, to ignore Clank. Either way, he was doing a bang-up job of it, keeping silent since the brief, impersonal argument during which Clank convinced him to use the autopilot.

It was... unsettling.

Although he desired for the Lombax to return to the way he was before their earlier encounter with Captain Qwark, a moment burned into his memory banks as his first true 'bad memory', Clank quite honestly preferred their earlier fighting to the awkward silence they were ensnared in now. And to make matters worse, Ratchet seemed to have swapped his half-amused, half-indifferent attitude towards the robot with a single minded loathing towards everything that crossed his path. The ship? An oversized hunk of wasted metal, in Ratchet's distinguished opinion. A brave soldier in need of assistance? Just some obstacle in the way of the Lombax's revenge. Clank's quest to save the galaxy? An unimportant venture that took a backseat to Ratchet's retribution. The only thing that he seemed to care about anymore was getting Qwark and that broken wrench of his.

After a few more moments of the unbearable quiet, Clank turned on the three-dimensional holographic map and was pleased when he noticed their location in relation to their destination, "We are nearing planet Batalia, Ratchet. Estimated time of arrival is five minutes and thirty seconds."

The Lombax's brow furrowed, and he moved his head away from his precious tool to look at Clank, "About time. This hunk of metal's just barely worth more than Qwark's word... so that must make it pretty meaningful to you, huh?"

Clank blinked, "I do not understand why you keep bringing that up. It was an honest mistake on my part-"

"A mistake?" Ratchet repeated, as if he were first tasting the word and finding it bitter, "'It's a mistake' is one of the most overused, childish excuses I've ever heard. It's just a clumsy way to try and throw blame off of yourself after you've done something wrong and don't want to admit it. That's the type of excuse wife beaters and murderers use when they're caught and have run out of alibis," The Lombax snorted, displeased, "Not that you'd care, so long as they wear tights and smile."

Eyes narrowed, Clank retorted harshly, "That is not a fair comparison, Ratchet. The examples you have listed imply that the person in question knows what they are doing. I did not. And if I recall correctly, you believed in Captain Qwark, too," The response to the simple counter was not what Clank had expected. Instead of some witty comeback, the Lombax turned his ire towards the steering mechanism, focusing all the fiery rage trapped in his green eyes towards the innocent mechanism, a decision Clank suspected was made to protect the robot himself from the feline mechanic's animosity.

Finally, Ratchet gave Clank a hard stare and replied, not without a vicious bite, "At least I didn't drag my only friend down with me."

The rest of the ride, after this, was spent in silence, with Clank internally pondering the meaning of that last phrase the entire way.

Batalia was murky and gray. That was the first thing Ratchet noticed as they flew over the large, battle-torn area. It reminded him a little of Aridia and that really was not a good thing. His head ached at the mere thought; phantom echoes of the pain he had suffered on that planet. They hadn't even been here for a minute and he already loathed this miserable little corner of the galaxy. As much as Ratchet had loathed Veldin, this was even worse. On Veldin, he'd expected to be miserable. Out here... it was just another disappointment in his short, short life.

The landing pad was made for fighters; it was hastily scrapped out of solid rock and smaller than their ship required, but the ship landed upon it anyways. As a result, they touched down unevenly, the ship rocking and knocking them both around as it settled into its spot. A soft groan managed to escape the Lombax's lips before he grumbled aloud in annoyance, "Super. Just... fantastic. Why did I let you talk me into using the autopilot?"

There was no reply. Clank had already righted himself and was set to jump out of the ship. Upon touching ground, the robot turned and waited for the Lombax to disembark before speaking in that irritable monotone of his, "Our first priority should be to locate the soldier who sent off that distress signal. Considering the state of our location, I am concerned for his well-being."

"Well, color me surprised," The words came out bitter and firm, as though he were scolding the little robot. At this point, he just wanted to push the robot as far from him as possible, something that would already be difficult enough with Clank having to ride on his back if they wanted to get anywhere within a decent time, "Let's just get this over with-"

He didn't really have anything more to say, but that didn't mean he wasn't annoyed when they were randomly interrupted by who Ratchet soon recognized as the alien commando who had sent the distress message. Even despite his annoyance with the mission, Ratchet felt an inkling of sympathy for this man. That message had gone straight to Qwark, a so-called hero who would never come to his rescue. Had it not been for him and Clank, this man would have died here.

Any sympathy he might have had for this man, however, instantly went out the window when he screeched in a voice that managed to beat even Helga in terms of loudness. His howl sent the triangular ears downward, sound waves echoing throughout his skull. But the shear force behind the voice caused Ratchet to obey without question when is shouted in a high-pitch, "SOLDIERS! Stand at attention!"

As Ratchet assumed the position, back straight with his dominant hand up against his forehead in a hurried salute, he noticed Clank making the same gesture after a moment's hesitation. Great, he was being mimicked. Just what he needed.

And the commando continued talking, his voice lowering in pitch, "You two miserable deserters thought you could get away, did you? Well, TOO BAD!" His lips curled downward, scowling in anger as Ratchet unconsciously winced as the sudden pitch of the vocals assaulting his ear drums, "You two attempt to go AWOL again and I'll shoot you myself! Unless," His left eye twitched, "you're one of them..."

"Do I LOOK Blargian to you?" Ratchet snapped.

He was then forced to back away as the large soldier descended upon him, backing him against the landing's railing that separated them from a fall that would most certainly kill. The man's eyes met his own, then went up and down, examining and judging his body in a way that made Ratchet wish, not for the first time since leaving Veldin, that he'd invested in a shirt at some point. Finally, the man stepped back and snorted condescendingly, "Well, you're not a Blargian, but that's all I can say for certain. What are ya... some sorta mutated Cyclomonkey? A War Grok runt?"

"I'm a Lombax," He tried to make his answer angry, but it was far too familiar a question for him to work up anything but minor irritation for it, "Are you just going to threaten us or you gonna tell us what we're supposed to be doing?"

The commando didn't exactly seem happy, but he gave a disgruntled huff and backed down, allowing Ratchet to take his place next to Clank, "Fine," He growled, "See those bombers up there?" It was almost rhetorical; he could see the large Blargian ships in the distance from even his uncomfortable position against the railing, "As long as they're up there, I can't do jack squat about liberating this city. They're cuttin' off my transmissions to base and keeping up a blockade of the city. Sooner or later we're gonna either starve or bleed out. But," here, his tone changed, turning somewhat pleased, "I managed to rig up a turret in the center of the city, powerful enough to cut through those ships. Had to re-route the entire city's power, but it'll be worth it when we take back the base from the Blargians that chased me out."

To Ratchet's displeasure, Clank spoke up immediately without thought or concern, "Do not worry, sir. We will help you re-take the base."

The comment was rewarded with the first smile the duo got from the soldier, "Excellent! I'll forge on ahead, you two keep close behind. Just follow my lead."

"Well," Ratchet spat, mildly annoyed, "that happened."

He was granted a disapproving look from the robot, who narrowed his eyes in examination of Ratchet, "Do not be so critical of the man, Ratchet. Who knows how long he has been fighting this war by himself; he is probably suffering from a number of psychological stressors. The least we can do is help the man, considering our goals," At the defensive concern Clank showed towards this complete stranger, Ratchet's temper began to boil, and it hit a fever pitch at the mention of 'their' goals. He whipped around with such a speed that the robot he was facing flinched backwards.

"Well then, go do it! Go save the day, 'hero'! After all, you have such a perfect track record when it comes to leading people into battle! I mean, just look at the perfect success that was your last attempt!" He gave a pause as Clank merely stared up at him, looking smaller than he'd ever looked, "Well? Aren't you gonna go play the hero? Or are you too small and gullible to charge into battle?"

There was pure silence for a few moments. Then, "...well, at least I am not a coward."

Was that Clank's attempt at a comeback? It really had no baring on their situation, considering all they'd been through, and was more distasteful than anything after all he'd done for the 'bot. It wasn't even worth responding to, really. But it was inborn in Ratchet's nature to have the last word, so he responded harshly, "Yeah, whatever. The first opportunity I get, you're scrap."

Whether or not that had the effect he was going for was irrelevant. He held out his hand for the robot to grab and, though Clank hesitated, he eventually gripped it firmly and allowed himself to be pulled onto Ratchet's back. With the non-existent weight of the robot on his back and the firmer weight tugging at his heartstrings from within his ribcage, Ratchet set out yet again, almost repaired wrench ready for action. Honestly... he was kind of hoping for it. Anything to keep him distracted.

"It's not too long a journey to the base," Spoke the soldier on point at a more reasonable tone, "We have to go through some marshlands to get there, but it's not far. Barely a mile."

As he talked, the three passed by what appeared to be storage garages. The both of them were locked up tight; the one on the left, from the signs, was some kind of bank. The other appeared to be an emergency storage shed. The buildings reminded him of the minimalist architecture used in Kyzil. However, these were of a simpler format, having not been built into mountain sides. These were just your average stand-ups, and the design really didn't work for that. They were made for the oddity of integrated construction. Here, it just... fell flat; it didn't work.

Ratchet frowned at the buildings and hurried his pace to get past them. This wasn't something he really wanted to dwell on anymore than he had to.

The first sign that something was wrong – really wrong – was the explosion.

During the short time between meeting the commando and the even that could only really be called a catalyst, Clank had stayed quiet, pondering the recent changes in Ratchet's behavior while simultaneously keeping on the look out for enemies. He had yet to reach any logical conclusions as to anything, nor had he seen any enemies. It was then that he made a fatal mistake; he let his mind go lax for a short amount of time, barely a few minutes. But it was in this time that the missile he had failed to detect homed in on the bridge connecting this small warehouse district to the marshlands they needed to travel through in order to get to the guns.

The explosion took him by surprise, something that rarely happened. They were knocked off the bridge in a single movement that left Clank's mind scrambling to catch up to the events. They were just crossing... and then they were being tossed through the air, surrounded by red and orange, debris flying to either side of them... and then they were dangling above a large, rushing water surging below Ratchet's dangling feet and waving tail. He could faintly hear some panicked gasps from the Lombax himself as he struggled to pull himself up, eventually prevailing and slowly but surely lifting both himself and the robot onto the charred remains of the bridge. There was not much of anything Clank could do to help, though he found himself desperately wishing (and there was THAT word again...) that there was something he could do to help. But none of his rather limited abilities could do anything but hinder the Lombax's efforts, so he merely stayed stoic and watched as best as he could as Ratchet lifted them both up.

Considering their earlier arguments, Clank almost expected Ratchet to blame him for the event, and was surprised again when the Lombax said nothing. The only conclusion that the robot could come to in order to explain it was that Ratchet failed to realize that Clank could have sensed that missile, and would have had he been paying attention. It only served to add to his conclusion. Any diagnosis he had come to about Ratchet's change of personality went straight out the proverbial window; what was he supposed to think upon adding this new bit of information? In the end, it was added to his database for further examination at a later, better time. Right now he needed to focus his processors – as many as possible – on the current situation, lest this happen again.

On the opposite side of the bridge, the Commando frowned in concern, yelling over the ruins of the crumbling bridge, "Attention, soldiers! Status report!"

"We are unharmed," Clank called back, then belated realized he should have confirmed this with Ratchet before announcing it. This revelation was confirmed by the dirty look he received in response to his answer by the Lombax, who scowled before yelling back over himself.

"Unfortunately!"

The Commando frowned deeply, clearly not liking the Lombax's outburst, before calling back over, "There is an alternate route on the other side of this canyon! I can make it through the mountain pass and open it if you'll meet me there-!"

Already that was receiving a nod of rejection from Ratchet, "That'll take too long! Hang on, we'll be there in a moment!" He paused, "...unless Clank would rather us fall into that river down below?"

The words were whispered, low and almost threatening, so that the Commando could not hear them. He tried, straining to listen in with one hand cupped around the area where his hearing organs existed, but failed to hear what the Lombax said. But Clank was able to hear it perfectly, and responded in a manner that he hoped would not set Ratchet off, "That is alright. We can try your way."

"Glad I have your approval," Ratchet's tone was bitter and mocking, but failed to elaborate, once again, on his distance. Without much more warning other than him backing up to set up the jump, Ratchet sprinted forward and leapt from the torn edge of the burnt bridge to one of the damaged supports for it; the only one of them that was high enough where Ratchet even had the possibility of making the jump to the other side. Instead of simply doing that, though, he jumped towards the rocky walling to his right, using the rocks first to gain altitude, then to leap the remaining distance in a single bound, tucking and rolling as he landed. The pounding on his back had returned shortly after Ratchet had made the jump – several nanoseconds after, to be precise – and only increased throughout the crazed stunt. The connection between that, Ratchet's increased breathing rate and the insane stunt was confirmed.

"Well, shoot my foot and shove it down my windpipe," The Commando muttered in a voice tinged with disbelief. Clank took notice, but the message hidden in the vocals was lost behind the oddness of the words. The image of a bloody foot, with a bullet hole on the top, being forcibly eaten appeared, and try as Clank may to decode it, all he could do was blink at the imagery and wonder why Ratchet, who seemed somewhat squeamish, didn't appear to react to the words, "That was admittedly impressive, soldier. I don't recall them teaching THAT when I was in basic training..."

The Lombax shrugged, seemingly unaffected, "I'm from Kyzil Plateau. You gotta know how to climb if you want to get anywhere without a hovercraft."

While they conversed, Clank did some quick math; trigonometry, rate of descent, some other quick calculations, and was able to determine where the missile came from. His eyes trailed along a projected, invisible path, eventually coming upon the source of the missile; a large Blargian trooper with a RYNO mounted on his shoulder, prepared to fire again.

He only got a moment to shout out, "Incoming!" before he was suddenly pressed roughly against the ground, his mouth filling with dirt before he could comment any further. His audio processors picked up the sound of another explosion dangerously close by, and then the ground moved away from him as Ratchet sat up. Clank took this moment to remove himself from Ratchet's harness and flip around to get a better look at what was going on. Ratchet was shaking the mud out of his fur while the Commando himself sat a short distance away, examining the Lombax for injuries before looking back at the trooper with the RYNO, who was now aiming for another shot.

"Damn it," The Commando snapped, picking up his fallen helmet and placing it back upon his head, "No way we'd survive a direct hit by THAT thing. We need to keep moving!" And with that, he forced the Lombax back up to his feet and raced on ahead. Ratchet, without saying a word, followed close behind, wrench in hand and ready to use. They raced into the marshlands, all the while conscious of the trooper waiting for his shot. The trio kept close together, with Clank being designated – by the Commando, of course – to keep his sensors on the RYNO wielding soldier on the cliff. The Commando led the way, with Ratchet keeping his ears and eyes open for enemies. They sprinted from cover to cover, relying mostly on Clank's sensors and the Commando's knowledge of the area to determine where they would be safe. Eventually, they were out of the soldiers line of sight, with no way for him to reach them. When informed of this, the Commando gave a grin and patted Ratchet roughly on the shoulder, causing him to stumble forward some, "Fine work, men! Looks like we're in the clear-"

And then he fell.

The Commando had been hit in the back of the neck, hard enough for him to fall forward onto the ground. His gun was flung forward in surprise and standing behind him, brandishing a pistol of his own, was a Blargian trooper. Ratchet took a step back; Clank had no idea what to do. There was no on-board computer for this model, so hacking was out of the question. He was frozen again, with no idea what to do or how to save this man. Ratchet, on the other hand, leapt forward, grasping the fallen gun in both hands, pointing it vaguely in the right direction and firing. It all went by in a blur, and by the time Clank's processors had caught up, the Blargian soldier was lying dead on the ground.

The thumping on his back had returned, accompanied by shaking.

"Fine work, soldier!" The Commando picked himself up weakly, obviously still recovering from the blow. He clasped Ratchet's shoulder in one hand, and his smile softened upon noticing how tense and jittery the Lombax was, "Lemme guess, first kill? Ah, don't worry 'bout it, kid. It gets better," He frowned openly this time, "sorta. Anywhos, the fort entrance isn't far ahead. Keep close, now."

He took his gun back from Ratchet and forged onward, openly wary of enemies that could come out from behind. Ratchet clutched his wrench close. He was still tense, shaking some, and the thumping against Clank's back hadn't let up in the least bit. Once or twice he would let out a shaking breath, but still kept moving, slowly but surely. As they traveled, Ratchet calmed some, the thumping slowing slightly and the shaking going away altogether. It was only the way that his hands tensed around the wrench at every turn and sound that kept Clank conscious of something being wrong. What it was, he could not place, but it made Clank feel uneasy. This was not how Ratchet was supposed to be; the Ratchet he knew, for better or worse, was cool and confident. He would not get shaken over something like death, would he? Clank added this to his memory banks for later pondering, then resolved to keep his attention on the battlefield.

On the way to the city, they ran into three more Blargian soldiers, each one being dispatched by the Commando. Every encounter sent Ratchet back into the state he had been in after his first kill, and each one increased the intensity of the jitters by 1.5238458444 percent. Not noticeable to an organic, but easily picked up by the robot's external sensors. Upon being filed, it was noted that this increase of shaking and heart rate was commonly associated with the presence of enemies. A reaction to danger, then? He would have to do more research on this, when he had the free time.

He did not know why, but the robot felt relieved upon seeing the fort in the distance. This relief came as yet another oddity; why did he desire to hurry along when it meant having to go along with Ratchet's revenge-driven whims? Then his mind went back to the fallen soldier Ratchet had slain, and the origin of this desire did not matter. The faster they were completed with this mission, the better.

"Well, here we are, boys," The Commando nodded, then frowned, "But... something's not right. Why's the bridge down?" His frown deepened, "Unless..."

Unless the fort had been taken, Clank realized. They had arrived too late.

"Well, that's too bad," Ratchet spoke, leaning against a nearby wall. Clank blinked up at him, "I guess I'll be going, then. See ya-"

"Hold it!"

Ratchet paused.

"We're getting' into that base even if I have to throw you across myself!" The Commando cried, then looked around, investigative, "Ah, there!" His large finger rested upon a ventilation shaft that must have brought... air, apparently, into the fort, "Soldier, you must force open that ventilation shaft and crawl through to the other side. There, you'll have to open the bridge manually. We don't use computer systems to keep it operational. Too risky."

"Well, that's dumb," Ratchet muttered, and Clank realized they were both probably thinking upon his ability to hack. Had this process been computerized, they would have been through already, "And besides, I'm too big to fit into that. Hell, even the talking microwave over here," He briefly gestured to Clank, "wouldn't fit. Not gonna work, dude."

Clank scanned the ventilation shaft. It was made of a magnetic nickel alloy. They would be able to walk upon it, had they magnetic boots created and used commonly on Orxon-

Coordinates: Planet Orxon unlocked.

Clank's eyes widened, "I believe there is a way for us to use the ventilation shaft to enter. There is a factory on Planet Orxon that creates a number of Blargian-friendly items, including Magnet Boots. All we have to do is infiltrate the factory and obtain them."

"And you didn't mention this earlier because...?" Ratchet frowned pointedly, looking somewhat upset.

"I only recently obtained this information. It was locked within my memory banks until now," The robot explained, simplifying it to the best of his ability. Would Ratchet understand the large amounts of technical information that went into such complex memory programming?

The Lombax snorted in response, "How convenient. Alright, we'll go pick up those shoes. You comin'?" Ratchet's attention now went exclusively to the Commando.

"Sorry, solider," The man shook his head, "but I have to remain here and keep guard. Try and take out the soldier with the missile launcher. But I wish you both good luck," He dug into his pockets, eventually relinquishing a map, "This will lead you to the alternate route. It's a little longer, but it'll take you past that soldier with the missile launcher with no complications. Good luck."

And with that, he walked away, taking cover nearby. Ratchet turned to Clank, now having no one other than the robot as company. Reluctantly, he held out his hand to the small 'bot, "Ready to go?"

With an affirmative nod, Clank was given a boost onto Ratchet's back and, with Ratchet leading the way and Clank navigating from behind, the two took off back into the marshlands, with Ratchet's notable tension only increasing as they dove back onto the battlefield.

Even though nothing jumped out at them on the way back, Ratchet was still wigged out.

After all, he'd just killed someone. Killed someone. It was hard to get those words out of his head. He'd just had to kill someone. Not even with his trusted wrench; he'd done it with a foreign weapon that had killed before. Every detail was imprinted in the mind; the blood, the twitching before he finally passed on... it wasn't at all like the other dead bodies he'd seen. They'd always been cold, bereft of life; they weren't struggling, for they'd finally found peace. His mind went back, idly, to the day he'd almost died. There hadn't been any struggle to hold onto whatever remained of his life. He'd just... fallen asleep. He'd assumed that had been what happened to the other dead people he knew. They'd just accepted their losses and fell asleep. Clearly, not all deaths were like that.

Clank's weight on his back, for the first time since Qwark, was actually a welcome feeling. It was foreign and real, keeping him from drifting back in time to that moment. Granted, he was still pretty upset with the robot, but today had been rough enough on the both of them that he didn't feel like starting anything. Maybe he'd even let Clank use the autopilot again so he get a little rest before Orxon. Even if it was only a few minutes, sleep sounded pretty good about now.

The alternate route took them through the mountains. It went through some caverns and involved some serious heavy-duty climbing. Ratchet could see, now, why they avoided this path. It was so twisted and convoluted that going through it almost doubled the time it took to get back. Not that he was complaining, though; mountain climbing was familiar. He still had half-faded memories of crawling around the rocky terrain, entering old mining passages that had been blocked off and going deeper and deeper 'til you found something REALLY cool. Or a dead end. Whichever came first.

"Keep up, furball! Wouldn't wanna accidentally leave you behind!"

Ratchet firmly told his memories to shut up. He'd had enough trauma for one day.

But it seemed as though the gods or fate or whatever ran the universe wasn't quite done screwing with them yet. As they approached their ship, it had been Clank who had detected the intruder and warned Ratchet under his metaphorical breath. As Ratchet approached their vessel, he made sure his wrench was gripped firmly in his palm before jumping atop the ship, surprising the intruder so that he fell to the hard ground below.

As he stood, Ratchet spoke with his voice slightly lowered, "What are you doing messing with my ship?"

Because no matter how stupid this giant hunk of metal was, or how irritable the painted on Qwark symbol made him, it was still their only method of travel.

The little maggot gave them a hard look, and Ratchet was able to pinpoint him as the same blue species as the Commando; probably one of the deserters. But there was something... off. A wicked gleam in his eyes that only became clear when he unexpectedly drew his gun and shouted at the duo, "Hands up! Put your hands where I can see them, now!"

Ratchet looked to his side, where Clank had dismounted. Reluctantly, the two held up their hands.

"Now, I'm gonna take this ship," He whispered, borderline growling, "and there's nothing the two of you can do about it, okay?" He suddenly switched tone, shouting, "I'm done with this damned place! I'm done! I'm getting out, now!"

The Clank started speaking, the stupid breadbox, "You cannot start the ship, sir. It requires a robotic ignition system, which I doubt you have on hand."

With a frustrated groan, the short brat took a glance on the two of them and grasped Clank by his hand, "Then you're coming with me! You're gonna take me to Metropolis, or I'll shoot," He held the gun to the robot's head, "I swear, I'll shoot!"

In that moment, he became distracted, turning to push Clank into the cockpit, and Ratchet made his move. He needed the robot to get to Qwark, after all. For that reason alone, or so he'd claim, he held his wrench high above his head and banged it down on the brat's unprotected head. The result was instantaneous; he fell down to the ground, gasping once before collapsing. It was over in a heartbeat, but that didn't start the pounding of Ratchet's own heart as soon as it was over.

Clank blinked in surprised, examining the fallen body, "He is unconscious," The robot spoke simply, keeping his irritable monotone, "Thank you for that."

Ratchet blinked, slightly surprised. Clank was showing gratitude? That... that was an anomaly. Unusual. It wouldn't be happening again. After all, Clank didn't seem to appreciate or recognize anything outside of his goal. This probably wouldn't be happening again, "Whatever. Don't think I did it for you," His attention was drawn to the body lying on the ground. He was probably a few years older than Ratchet, if he had been in the same platoon as that blue soldier from earlier, "So, what should we do with this guy?"

"I would first move him away from the afterburners," Another look revealed that Clank was right; the kid had landed far too close to the afterburner. Lest he be moved, he'd be horribly burned when they turned on the ship. And since Ratchet already had enough on his mind, he had to agree with Clank this time. So the body was moved to the side, where it would hopefully be found later. In the meanwhile...

"Turn on the autopilot, Clank," The Lombax commanded as he slid into the pilot's seat, "I need to take a nap."

Disclaimer: Ratchet and Clank does not belong to me.

Authoress' Comments: Here is one thing I regret not being able to work into the chapter:

"I have bigger fish to fry!"
"Bigger than the galaxy?"
"Well, different fish, anyways."

That's actually kinda funny.

But yeah... don't have much else to say to this. Um... COOKIES!

What did I do good on?: I think I made Ratchet's feelings towards Clank a little more obviously complex. He's holding onto hatred for no other reason than he doesn't want to like Clank, 'cause he's all distrustful of everyone right now.

What did I fail on?: There are a few points in Clank's section where you might not be sure where he is. Yeah... I kinda didn't care enough to fix it, since it's not important, but you may be confused, since I don't clearly state when he is removed from Ratchet's back.

Random Question for Reviewers: Would you hold my rabid cat for me? Thanks. (Walks off)