Ratchet, Vendra, and Neftin had worked hard on their ship. They'd followed the instructions of the Help Desk Associate as carefully as they could, while at the same time making sure they used only the best parts they could get or manufacture. The ship was sleek and elegant, black with arcs of Nether pink for coloration, with a four seater canopy and powerful engines on the rear. The wings spread to either side, with strong lasers at the tips for defensive weaponry. Rather than landing gear, it had a Negative Gravity Generator that allowed it to remain hovering just off the ground, and a simple Auto-Pilot that would cause it to seek out the nearest accessible landing pad when summoned by the control Vendra kept with her at all times. The controls inside the cockpit were simple and elegant, designed for Ratchet's hands since he had the strongest sense of sight and quickest reaction time, making him the best choice for pilot. The trio were very proud of their ship, and eager to get it into the space. There was only one last step. Grinning eagerly, Neftin touched his arm com. "And finally?" he coached the help desk associate.
"Final step, attach robotic ignition system," the associate responded.
"Seriously?" Vendra snapped out angrily. "After all this work to build this ship and you don't think to mention that to begin with?"
"Those things are expensive!" Neftin confirmed. "And regulated!"
"My apologies," the associate offered sorrowfully. "Your request to keep your project a secret from CEO Wendall Lumos somewhat limited my options. This is the only ship design I can distribute without making a report of it. Even with the liberties and modifications you took with the design, it remains a ship that requires robotic ignition, a safety measure that makes the ship available to any civilian."
"It's not your fault," Neftin offered quickly, not wanting to upset the associate. "You did what we asked. We'll just figure things out from here on our own." With that, he broke the connection.
"Figure it out on our own?" Ratchet demanded irritably. "What, you think a functional robotic ignition system is just going to fall out of the sky?"
A loud boom drew all their attention towards a single-passenger ship that was rocketing towards a distant plateau in a blazing fireball. Neftin focused his optic enhancer on the crash site, then turned to Ratchet with a smug grin.
Grinding his teeth, Ratchet turned theatrically to the sky. "It's not like the world's largest ice cream scoop is going to come falling out of the sky!" he declared facetiously. A large bird dropping struck him right between the eyes, causing Vendra and Neftin to burst into laughter. Ratchet grumbled irritably as he wiped the dropping away with his work glove before turning to lead his siblings towards the distant crash site.
Since they'd been hard at work, Ratchet was dressed comfortably for the environment in slacks, overalls, work gloves, and goggles with his Omniwrench in hand, a Gadgetron Bomb Glove on his other arm as a back-up weapon, a Nether Blaster on his hip for added enforcement. Due to how developed Neftin's cybernetics had become as they grew with him, he wore only tight fitting pants, leaving half his pale torso bare to the sun as the other half was covered by black metal, which ran up along both hefty arms to regulate the flow of his Nether Energy, his Scorpion Flail gripped in one hand. Vendra dressed as always completely for comfort, with grey yoga pants and a tight pink t-shirt with 'Bad Girl' written on the front. Her Netherblade Launcher rested on her back as she floated along, her Nether Energy dancing around her hand and over her pink hair, done up in a twin horn style she'd grown fond of after watching an Old Earth cartoon show about teenage superheroes. One of her favorite characters – whom she closely resembled – wore her hair in the same style.
The only hostiles the trio encountered on their way to the crash site were horned toads – small orange desert amphibians – and Thunder Soldiers. The Thunder Soldiers were one-wheeled robotic drones with electric discharge weapons left behind by a group of space pirates who had attempted – briefly – to invade Veldin to make away with food and resources. They had reconsidered when Neftin had used one of their dropships as a hand-held ballistic missile to take out one of their space-born crafts. Still, the Thunder Soldiers had remained, working off their pre-programmed orders to reproduce themselves in a futile attempt to pacify the countryside. They barely held together from one strike from any of the trio, so they'd never bothered informing Gramps about them. They proved enjoyable challenges in large groups when off on solo exercise jaunts across the planet. The horned toads were barely worth mentioning, unless one of the trio wanted a fast protein snack.
It didn't take long for the trio to reach the crash site. While the ship was mostly wreckage, a small, lunchbox shaped robot seemed mostly intact. "Let's take him back to our ship," Ratchet offered. "It's closer to home, and Vendra's tools."
"Pretty sure I can get him working without too much trouble," Vendra confirmed as Neftin picked the little robot up. "Though I want to examine him thoroughly first. I don't recognize the model…"
Once back home, Ratchet and Neftin got to work fine tuning the ship's systems while Vendra carefully popped the robot's chest compartment open to examine his internals. After a time, however, she sat up. "Neftin, can you get your eye enhancer over here? I think I'm seeing things in here that…that there's just no way it can be real."
Curious, Neftin moved over, twisting the cover on his eye to shift the vision modes. "Hmm…I'm seeing spatial compression…high energy output…are those chronitons?"
"Thought so," Vendra murmured as Ratchet came over to hear. "This little robot…he's got time manipulation technology built in. But the systems are locked, along with a slew of other tech that I can't even begin to properly analyze. And I don't want to mess with those unless I can get him back online." She closed the chest plate. "On the plus side, he does have a fully functional robotic ignition system. I could probably remove it, but if I can get him online…"
"Get?" Ratchet asked, pointing to where the tiny robot's optics were slowly opening to reveal a green glow. "I think he's coming around."
The small robot extended spindly limbs like a turtle, his ball-shaped head bouncing a little on his neck, making his antennae wiggle. "Greetings," he offered calmly. "I am XJ-0461. Who might you be?"
"I'm Ratchet," Ratchet offered calmly. "And these are my brother and sister, Neftin and Vendra."
"And I'm going to call you Clank," Vendra insisted firmly.
The tiny robot frowned. "I am uncertain-"
"Unless you'd prefer I refer to you by numeric designation and treat you like a source of spare parts rather than an individual," Vendra continued.
"…Clank will do nicely," Clank allowed. "Perhaps you three could assist me. Currently I am in search of someone who could be of assistance in saving the galaxy."
"Leave that to Qwark and the other professional heroes," Vendra suggested. "If Qwark doesn't take care of it himself, maybe one of the other heroes will get some of the spotlight…unless he steals it from them."
"I need to get in contact with him," Clank insisted. "There is a threat which I believe he is not yet aware of."
"What threat?" Neftin asked curiously.
Clank reached into his chest compartment and extracted an info-bot – a small, square-faced robot designed to carry and display a video message – that quickly expanded to normal size. It then expanded its face into a full screen to display its message.
A diminutive brown-skinned alien Vendra recognized as a Blarg wearing a pinstripe suit appeared on the screen against the backdrop of a starship control center. "Hello, citizens of-" he began. A new image cut in, the blue and green world of Novalis as declared by the subtitle and navigation coordinates. "My race, the Blarg, have a small problem. Our planet has become so polluted, overpopulated, and poisonous…" As he spoke, the image shifted to a dreary planet with green air, slowly filling with gas mask wearing Blarg. "…that we are no longer able to dwell here." The image shifted back to the speaker. "But I, Chairman Drek, have a solution."
The image shifted to a sketch of a planet built of pieces. "We are constructing a pristine new world using the choicest planetary components available." The image shifted back to Drek. "So, what does this mean to you, you might ask?" A schematic image of a high tech space-born grabber, followed by an image of it ripping a chunk off a planet. "Using highly sophisticated technology which you couldn't possibly understand, we will be extracting a large portion of your planet and adding it to our new one."
The image shifted back to Drek. "Unfortunately, this change of mass will cause your planet to spin out of control and drift into the sun where it will explode into a flaming ball of gas, but of course, sacrifices must be made. Thank you for your cooperation."
"And cut," another voice declared from off camera.
Drek's demeanor immediately changed from pleasantly urbane to fiercely petulant. "And if you don't like it, you can take your whiny, sniveling, snot-nosed populations, form a line behind me, and kiss my-" He stopped as he looked off camera. "What do you mean we're still on? Well turn it off, you idiot!"
The message ended.
"The people on those planets are hosed," Ratchet murmured softly. All three siblings' expressions grew thoughtful.
After a time, Vendra shrugged. "Not our problem," she stated plainly. "Our problem is getting a robotic ignition system to get our ship into space."
"I happen to be equipped with the latest robotic ignition system," Clank pointed out quickly. "If you will agree to escort me to Captain Qwark – or whoever is able to take on the job of stopping Drek – I will activate your ship so you may fly wherever you wish. Is this an acceptable exchange?"
Neftin tapped his chin thoughtfully. "If Drek rips the prettiest planets apart, there isn't going to be much to see when we go out in space…"
As they spoke, two Blarg ships descended towards the plateau. "You had best decide quickly-" Clank began insistently
Neftin seized a chunk of metal and hurled it casually towards the ships. It flew like a ballistic missile, tearing through the first ship before smashing the second to bits in a fiery explosion.
Clank stared at the wreckage so easily caused. "…I do not suppose there is any chance I could convince the three of you to take the job of saving the galaxy?" he asked hopefully.
"You'll need a lot more than a ticket to the stars to convince us of that," Ratchet countered firmly. "But we'll deal with anyone in our way along the way."
"I will take what I can get," Clank allowed as he clambered into the co-pilot seat of the ship. Ratchet quickly took the pilot's seat as Vendra and Neftin sat in the back. Clank activated the ship, and the canopy closed as it lifted into the air before shooting for the stars.
