Sorry for the slowness of my updates. I'm still working on this, just…slowly. Luckily, a lot happens in this chapter, and a special character makes an appearance, as well. So without further ado…

Chapter 14: It's Not Me, It's You

It was really quite ironic, when one got to thinking about it, how close Ratchet might have come to committing a real crime had he and his comrades not been falsely arrested before he could follow through on it. The Galactic Rangers, surely out of concern for their own safety rather than a brief burst of competence, had already confiscated the entirety of the Lombax's vast arsenal of weapons, leaving him to merely wonder which might have been the best one to use on the traitorous wretch they had since come to know as Ophelia. It was a difficult decision, to be sure, when there were so many good options.

With violence currently out of the question, he instead spent the entire flight to jail rehearsing all the many things he wanted to say to the backstabber (it was frightening how literal the term really could be applied in her case, if she ever had actually followed through on her multiple attempts at murdering him in their short acquaintanceship). By the time the trio had arrived in their own jail cell and the energy field had been activated behind them, however, all he wanted to do was curl up on one of the cell's two cots and try to forget everything that had happened. Of course, the first half was easily accomplished, but forgetting was another matter entirely. He would never forget what she had done.

They had been so close, and now that murdering psychopath was free again.

The only words that dared break the silence was but a single "I'm sorry" that had drifted across the narrow space shortly into their shared imprisonment, but aside from that, no other sound was uttered as long hours passed them by, and the sunlight shining in through the small window near the ceiling began to crawl up the wall with the coming sunset. Even now, Ratchet worked to ignore the constant buzz of the energy generators, an attempt that had thus far proven unsuccessful, while Clank remained in silent vigil where he had since perched himself on the corner of his friend's cot, his slight weight barely enough to provide any sort of indent on the hard mattress.

It was not until sometime after the sun had gone down that the robot spoke up for the first time. "I am sure we will be released in the morning, Ratchet. We have done nothing wrong."

The Lombax swallowed in an effort to moisten a throat that had long gone dry. "Yeah, I hope so," he said and continued to stare at the wall inches in front of his nose. Though he may have appeared idle on the outside, his mind had since been given a chance to clear, allowing a new thought to push its way through the haze their failure and unexpected imprisonment had brought on. Nefarious might have gotten away this time, but he had just the idea that might be able to fix this whole mess, after all. With this slight reassurance, he fell asleep before his plan could be expressed to anyone.

Ratchet was woken up sometime in the early morning, based on the weak light coming through the window, by a gentle shake from Clank. Once the robot had received his friend's attention, he pointed off in the direction of the energy field even as the Lombax was still yawning and blinking the sleep from his eyes.

"What is it, Clank?" Ratchet arched his back in a long stretch.

"You want another piece of me?"

The Lombax glanced over at the sound of Ophelia's voice with an involuntary grimace. Their former ally was currently standing before a Galactic Ranger, her hands balled into fists and her stance wide, seemingly unaware that her threat was not one she could actually follow through on at this time. The Ranger promptly darted behind a figure much smaller than him, despite the electrical field separating him from the puffy-haired woman.

Ratchet squinted at the shimmering blue barrier obstructing his view. There was something oddly familiar about their second visitor, and he rolled out of bed without another moment's delay to get a better view of the pair standing out in the corridor.

"Ratchet, I'm sorry about this, but you know how these guys can get." The unknown figure half-turned to the Ranger behind her. "Deactivate the field."

"But, sir, th-they're hardened criminals!" The Ranger pointed at Clank with one quivering hand. "Even the tiny one has an unsavory glint in his eyes."

The small robot in question frowned at this accusation.

"Just do as you're told."

"Sasha?" Ratchet said. "Is that you?" His question was answered when the barrier was deactivated, and he was, at last, given an unhindered view of the brown-furred Cazar. The last time he had seen her in person had been during their first adventure involving Dr. Nefarious. The last time he had seen her at all…it was on the holoscreen, and she had been elected President of the Solana Galaxy.

Ratchet began to stutter before any additional words had been given a chance to leave his mouth. "Ah, I-I mean…uh, P-President…President Phironix." The title had made no difference to him back when it had applied to Captain Qwark. As far as he was concerned, the galaxy had been leaderless during Qwark's entire time in office. And in all honesty, it had been.

She smiled. "Sasha's fine." Her expression turned solemn as she went on. "I heard what happened, about Dr. Nefarious and…your arrest, and I thought it best I come here in person and apologize," she eyed the taller robot beside her, who continued to tremble in the presence of the newly released prisoners, "on behalf of the Galactic Rangers for what you and your friends were put through. After everything you and Clank have done for the galaxy, such conduct was unacceptable."

"It's fine, really," Ratchet said. "I'm just glad you came when you did. I wasn't looking forward to prison food."

Sasha laughed. "Good to hear. Well, now that that's settled, we have a lot to discuss, though it might be better if we found somewhere else to…" She paused as Ophelia drew in close and squinted at her.

"Are you a Lombax?"

Sasha glanced back and forth between her and Ratchet, her lips frozen in words she had apparently forgotten. "Uh, no, I'm-"

"Don't mind her," Ratchet said. "I think she's supposed to stay in here."

Apparently Sasha didn't take Ratchet's comment about Ophelia's continued imprisonment seriously, for they were all escorted to a small presidential transport vessel for a short flight to the newly built Starship Phoenix III. It was here that Ratchet was reunited with his weapons, after which the Cazar brought them to a conference room sporting a large window spanning the entire back wall that gave an impressive view of Kerwan from orbit. It was not the view that had caught Ratchet's attention, however, but a certain shade of green he had never realized until this day was responsible for his unexplained resentment towards all of Clank's houseplants. It made so much sense now.

"Uh, Sasha, why's Qwark here?"

At this mention of his name, the superhero removed his feet from the tabletop. "I think the real question you should be asking is, why am I ever not here?" Qwark grasped the armrests on either side of him and pushed himself to his feet to stand at his full, impressive height, the only thing about him that could be described as such. "I did singlehandedly capture Dr. Nefarious yesterday, didn't I? And for that, I just wanted to say a very humble, 'you're welcome'."

"Qwark," Ratchet began, "Nefarious got away. He and Lawrence stole a ship and took off."

Qwark scratched his massive chin. "Really? That's not how I recall it happening."

"Inviting him to dinner doesn't count," Ophelia said.

"Uh, h-how did…I-I really have no idea what you're talking about." The large man laughed as he tugged at his collar.

"I saw it," she continued in a deadpan, seemingly unaware of the confused glances she and the superhero were currently receiving.

Qwark frowned. "A-and who are you?"

She pointed to her chest. "I'm Ophelia, the fluffy one's Ratchet, and the-"

"He already knows who we are." Ratchet marched on by her, his arms swinging in quick, aggravated arcs. "Let's just get to the point, all right?" The Lombax plopped down at the long conference table beside the seat clearly designated for Clank, a guess he made based on the books piled atop it to place the diminutive robot at a better height, while Ophelia sat at the seat across from him. This would have been a tolerable, if not ideal, arrangement, if only she didn't roll it around the table five seconds later to place herself directly next to him. Slapping his palms down upon the armrests in silent protest, he got up in favor of sitting in the seat on Clank's other side.

To complete the seating arrangements, Sasha took up her rightful place at the end of the table, which so happened to be the very same spot Qwark had been occupying upon their arrival. Pausing to frown at this theft, the superhero was given no choice but to wander over to the seat situated at the other end of the table, which also had the unfortunate disadvantage of being even closer to Ratchet than his previous option was.

"So," President Phironix began, "I guess the most obvious question to start with is, what was Dr. Nefarious doing in Metropolis?"

"Well, Sasha…can I call you Sasha," Qwark leaned back in his seat, his hands meeting at the fingertips, "what my nemesis was clearly up to was-"

"Visiting you for dinner, apparently," Ophelia said.

The superhero pounded one fist down on the table. "Would you stop bringing that up!"

Sasha cleared her throat. "Actually, Captain Qwark, my question was directed at Ratchet."

Ophelia directed a stern nod at the superhero.

"Well, uh…" the Lombax scratched one of his long ears when everyone's attention fell on him, "i-it's kind of a long story. Basically, I guess what it boils down to is…you see…"

"If I may," Clank began and, at Ratchet's grateful nod, went on, "I am certain you recall the recent investigation of Dr. Nefarious' disabled space station, correct?"

Sasha nodded.

"Well, as my friend expressed, it is a rather complicated story, but the person responsible also managed to kidnap Dr. Nefarious and convert him back into an organic with…uh, a stolen anti-biobliteration ray."

Qwark tapped his chin, one eye squinted in what could be described as his "thinking face", had anyone not known better. "I thought there was something different about him." He straightened at this admission, and his eyes darted from side to side to check if anyone had caught on. "Uh, not that I, uh, saw him recently or anything."

Clank eyed the superhero just once before continuing, "As I was saying, we met up with him after his escape from his kidnapper and brought him to Metropolis under the belief that we were going to help him find the person who had attacked him. Unfortunately, he…escaped before we could have him arrested."

The Cazar leaned forward. "Well, do either of you…" She trailed off when Ophelia lifted a hand.

"Me, too?"

Captain Qwark looked between the other members of the group before raising his own hand high. "Oh, me, too! I want in on this, too!"

"Uh, yes, well, do…any of you," President Phironix directed arched eyebrows at the superhero, "have any idea who this person is or what they might want with the galaxy's most wanted criminal?"

Qwark raised his hand again, but received no more than a short stare from Sasha before she returned her gaze to Ratchet. "Anything?"

Finding himself once again under the spotlight, Ratchet began to fidget as he tried to avoid keeping his focus on any one member of the group for too long. "Nothing good, that's for sure. The best guess we can make is that he planned on using Nefarious for his own evil schemes because he managed to, I don't know…download his ideas or something while he was still a robot. But other than that, we don't really know much else. Our only lead at the moment is a planet called…uh, Virditia-"

Ophelia choked on the glass of water she had just poured for herself. "Virditia? Why there?"

"Uh, because-Big Al, well, you see, he…he thinks the technology this person used can be traced back to that place, and-"

Wiping free a few droplets that had begun to dribble down her chin, the redhead went on, "I seriously doubt you can trace whatever silly gadgets he or she apparently had to one single location. What if he bought it from a store?"

"I really don't think he bought these kinds of things from a store," Ratchet said.

"He could have if I was still running things," Qwark said with crossed arms. His face lit up as he was struck with his own unique blend of what could only be described as an idea as it pertained to him and him only. "Hey, you guys remember my Friendship Through Firepower Initiative? If that was still around, you could have gotten weapons of mass destruction at your local convenience store." He propped his big, empty head on one fist. "Ah, to think what could've been."

At this, the conversation ground to a temporary halt as everyone turned to stare at the superhero, whose continued grin might have very well indicated that he suspected admiration to be the true reason the attention of the room had fallen on him and not some other reason entirely. They were only rescued from the ensuing silence when the President shook her head. "Well, it's worth a try. But Virditia is not known for being very friendly, even amongst the few survivors left remaining after the war. You'll have your work cut out for you finding anything, but I know you'll figure something out." She smiled. "If I remember correctly, you've dealt with far worse."

Ratchet's face was split by a crooked grin, and he returned to scratching his head. "Yeah, uh, thanks. I'm sure I'll, uh, I-I mean, 'we' will manage just fine. I'm just not so certain we'll find anything to begin with."

"Yeah," Ophelia said, "and that's why it's silly."

"Should I alert the Galactic Rangers to start a manhunt for this person?" Sasha asked.

The Lombax shook his head. "No, I don't think that's necessary yet. We still know so little, there's really nothing to even go on in the first place."

"And," Ophelia added, "this person is hard enough to find as it is. Starting a search for him may only drive him even deeper into hiding."

"Yeah, Ophelia…" Ratchet let out a deep breath as he prepared for his next words, "actually has a good point for once."

She crossed her arms and sent a smug look his way. "I'm often quite pointy."

"Don't you worry, Ratchet," Qwark laced his fingers before him on the tabletop, "I'd be more than happy to join you in your search."

Ratchet nearly leapt from his seat. "What, no! I mean, that's…fine, but we really-we can really manage just fine on our own."

"No, seriously, I want to help. It'll be no trouble at all."

"I don't think he wants you to come," Ophelia said.

The superhero frowned and turned a questioning gaze on Ratchet. "She can't really mean that you mean that, right, Ratchet?"

"Okay, now that this matter has been settled," President Phironix broke in with a raised voice to better demand their attention, the palms of her hands pressed together before her, "all that leaves us with is what to do about Dr. Nefarious. We came very close to capturing him yesterday, and I don't know about you, but I don't intend on giving up that easily. Any ideas?"

"Yeah, actually," Ratchet said, his hand lifting of its own accord. He almost felt like he was back in school, with Clank, Qwark, and Ophelia representing the smart kid, the dumb kid, and the weird kid, respectively. He had a sneaking suspicion that he, at least in this circumstance, was the teacher's pet. "Nefarious kept demanding that we take him to his old lab on Magmos. He thought he'd be safe there, so that's probably where he's heading. He's unarmed, and I don't think the ship he stole has any weaponry, either. If…the Galactic Rangers, or…anyone else you think might be a good choice, go to Magmos, I'd be willing to bet he'd be there."

Ophelia pursed her lips. "You just won't leave that guy alone, will you?"

Though Ratchet managed to ignore her, on the surface anyway, he could feel his ears draw back as Sasha responded, "That's perfect, Ratchet. Maybe we haven't missed our chance, after all. Well, I believe that covers everything. Is there anything else," she looked around the room, her gaze turning stern when it passed over Qwark, who closed his mouth and leaned back in his seat at her mere glance alone, "that's actually related to the matter of Dr. Nefarious or this…mystery culprit that we need to discuss?"

Captain Qwark opened his mouth once more, only to close it again when he got second thoughts, and the Cazar turned once more to Ratchet. "I suppose that settles it. Ratchet, I wish…all of you good luck, and you know that I am more than happy to assist if you need it. I'll provide you with my direct line if you ever need to contact me. In the meantime, we will see what we can do about bringing Dr. Nefarious to justice." She stood, and they all followed suit with varying levels of speed. "And Ratchet, promise me you'll get some rest before you leave. You look tired. I suspect you didn't sleep well in jail."

Everyone, save the President herself, returned to the streets of Metropolis via the same small transport ship that had taken them to the Phoenix an hour earlier, though not before receiving a farewell and a good luck from Sasha that Captain Qwark had claimed was vastly directed at him. Returning Clank to his back in anticipation of a quick getaway, Ratchet found himself unable to flee the scene before any more damage could be done when Qwark promised to meet them at their apartment the very next morning to aid them on their quest. Though his stomach churned inside at the prospect of replacing three nuisances, one villainous, one traitorous, and one just plain snarky, with the egotistical superhero, who more than made up for their absence, and not merely due to his size, Ratchet couldn't even summon up the willpower to protest. The guy was bound to sleep in late in the morning anyway, the Lombax reasoned, so they could simply leave before he ever showed up.

Once Qwark strutted off in the direction of his condo, humming a merry tune as he did so, that left them with one last problem to shake off. Ophelia.

Acknowledging her presence seemed to be the worst way to deal with her at the moment, and so Ratchet decided the best thing to do in such an uncomfortable situation would be to merely ignore her. His eyes were forced to pass over her when she planted herself directly in front of him with the most pitiful expression she could muster, but he made no other indication that he was aware of her more than obvious efforts at making him relent. Clank knew better than anyone how difficult it was to convince the Lombax to do something when he was deadest against it. That was probably why the tiny robot had chosen to stay out of it.

Ratchet headed for home, his stance stiff and his hands clenched at his sides with enough intensity that he thought he heard his knuckles crack. He absolutely refused to look back over his shoulder. Not that he really needed to. He could feel her presence just as easily as he could see her shadow moving along behind him out of the corner of his eye. He just felt sorry for Clank when it occurred to him that his companion was forced to watch her the whole way. Simply being aware of the pathetic expression her face had settled into was awkward enough.

By the time they were nearly home, it was quite clear his little plan wasn't working when she continued to stalk them with the same persistence one would expect if she was physically bound to them by chains. He had wanted to end this in the least ugly way he knew how, but if she wanted to force the issue, then so be it.

Ratchet turned back to her, his mind already assembling the very reprimand he had been working on during their entire walk. She tensed before his gaze, as if she believed movement was the only thing cluing him in to her presence.

"Ophelia, do you remember what I told you yesterday?" His voice was deadly calm, any anger he had once felt replaced by cold fortitude.

Her eyes rolled skyward as she thought this over, as if she expected to find a ship trailing a banner overhead that would spell out the answer. "To…watch Dr. Nefarious?" An unsure grin appeared on her face, but no amusement reflected back on his own.

"I said you're not traveling with us anymore. And I meant it. I forgave you when you pulled a knife on me, twice, even when…heck, the first time you did it should have been a clear sign I shouldn't have allowed you to ever come with us in the first place. But what you did yesterday…" By now, Ratchet's voice had raised in volume to the point that people had begun to stop and stare. "Look, Ophelia, this is not working out. We can't work with someone we can't trust."

"But…but you don't understand. After all we've been through, and-"

Ratchet turned away with a roll of his eyes. "Give it up, Ophelia! You're not changing my mind, so just…go home. I don't care which one. Just get far away from us."

Ratchet left her behind without so much as a glance backwards, and all the yelling she could muster couldn't slow him down. They arrived home a short while later after a silent elevator ride where they were accompanied by no one else but a chubby Markazian who dared not stare any longer at the galaxy's last Lombax, nor his miniature robot companion, once Ratchet returned his curious gaze with a grim stare of his own. It was only after he had locked the door to their shared apartment that Clank finally spoke up.

"Ratchet," the little robot dropped to the floor and proceeded to follow his friend with his gaze until the Lombax had fallen backwards onto the couch with a boneless kind of weariness, "do you think you may have been a tad…harsh earlier?"

Ratchet did not respond right away, but merely listened to his friend's metallic footsteps, which halted upon the advent of a sigh. "Oh dear, my orchids are dead again."

"Come on, Clank, after what she did, do you really think I could have allowed her to keep tagging along with us? Who knows what she would have done next." Ratchet folded his arms behind his head. "I almost wouldn't be surprised if she was heading to Magmos right now to warn Nefarious the Rangers are coming." He stiffened as soon as these words left his lips. She wouldn't…would she?

"In her defense, I am not certain she truly comprehends how much her actions endangered the galaxy. She does not appear to have the same knowledge of Dr. Nefarious' crimes that most people do, which would explain her willingness to defend him after he played a substantial role in our escape from…Myrtle." As unlikely as it had initially seemed, the word was getting easier and easier to say. At this point, neither seemed to remember that Myrtle was not even the planet's real name.

There was the scrape of glass on wood as Clank removed his orchids from the table on which they had, at some uncertain point in the near past, met their end. "However," the robot went on, "when I look at the situation from your perspective, I must admit that I agree with your reservations. Regardless of her motivations, she is unpredictable and, therefore, an unreliable companion. I just hope she does not take her banishment from the group too badly."

Ratchet continued to listen to the robot's unseen actions. A few moments later, he was rewarded with the sound of Clank's decaying orchids being dumped into the trash. "You need to stop buying plants, Clank."

"I know. I just did not expect another adventure so soon."

"You and me both, buddy." Why did most people associate adventures with positive things? Sure, there was danger and excitement, but more often than not, they were spending countless hours confined in cramped spaces, flying from one corner of the galaxy to the other, or tending to numerous injuries after their most recent encounter with some murderous nutcase. If that truly was someone's idea of a good time, he'd like to personally invite them to be his guest.

Seeing as no one had yet decided to take their places, he assumed that could only mean that adventures really weren't anyone's idea of a good time, after all.

Ratchet closed his eyes and released a long exhalation of breath. "Let's not talk about her anymore. We just need to enjoy our break while it lasts. Right, Clank?"

The Lombax grinned when Clank's distinctive chuckle met his ears. "When you put it that way, I could not agree more."

Of course, following his own advice proved to be more difficult than it should have been, for within a half hour of their return, Ratchet was faced with one problem that never failed to bother him. The fact that home had a way of feeling less like a home, not more, with every week and every month they spent away from it. While Clank had since taken up residence in a yellow armchair that dwarfed his far smaller size, seemingly at ease as he returned to reading a thick textbook on quantum physics, Ratchet struggled with his own means of keeping busy.

In an effort to combat this disconcerting inability to relax, he tried everything he could think of. The first method in which he attempted to entertain himself almost always came in the form of vid comics, but after losing multiple times in a boss battle against a giant cybernetic vulture, of all things, he decided he had better quit before he ended up throwing his controller. Again. The mark on the wall remained to this day.

Deciding his afternoon would be far more worthwhile if shared with a friend, he challenged Clank to a game of Galactic Chess, which lasted a grand total of ten minutes before the robot practically wiped the floor with him. When it seemed any kind of game would result in him becoming more aggravated rather than less, he tried relaxing with a shower followed by some light reading that inevitably broke down into doodling in the margins until Clank caught what he was doing and put a stop to his vandalism with a mere look alone. And that, he supposed, was the problem with relaxation. It couldn't be rushed, nor could it be so easily crammed into a limited period of time when he had something far from relaxing still looming over him.

Before he even realized where his feet were taking him, Ratchet found himself staring blankly out the window at the constant stream of traffic zipping by outside before visiting the kitchen to peer dumbstruck into a fridge the robot had nearly gutted once he had weeded out everything that had gone bad, including the milk, cheese, and some meat that looked as if it was trying to grow back the fur it had in life. With a sigh, he shuffled over to the pantry to take out one of the few remaining things left that Clank had dubbed safe to eat.

"BAM," the Lombax read off the can. "What the- Clank, what is beef SPAM?"

The robot lowered the book he had since returned to after the completion of their chess match to peer over it. "Why, it was on sale, so I thought it might be something new for you to try."

Ratchet cringed at the pale hunk of unnaturally shaped meat gloriously displayed on the label amidst a starburst of fireworks before putting it back where he had had found it and heading for the door.

"Ratchet, where are you going?"

"I think I've wasted enough time driving myself nuts here. I may as well go do something useful."

It took only a short walk to reach Aphelion, and once Ratchet had transferred her to the base of their apartment building, he studied her battered and abused hull, damage from the crash on that rainy planet that he hadn't yet had the time, nor the tools, to fix. If they were going to fly to some distant corner of the galaxy, to a planet he had been warned multiple times wasn't exactly friendly, he'd feel a lot better if the thing that was going to take them there was in better shape. Skilled mechanic that he was, he was sure he could make some noticeable improvements before they left in the morning.

Ratchet got to work replacing damaged wiring and soldering together the more substantial cracks in Aphelion's hull with a speed and efficiency of which only a Lombax was capable. Sure, he was an adventurer, but the adventures always ended eventually. He never stopped being a mechanic, and that was one area where he couldn't be beaten. Not even Clank could top him there.

He worked late into the evening, and he didn't stop even once the sun had been replaced by overhead streetlights and the traffic droning by overhead had lessened to the point that there was scarcely a thing to interrupt his concentration. When he was in his element, almost nothing could break his focus, and that only made it all the more unsettling when he found himself unable to continue his work due to a vague feeling that something was out of place.

The first indication that something was off was that unsettling, inexplicable feeling of eyes on the small of his back that never failed to make him feel exposed. He remained frozen in place, his ears pricking up, and when the feeling of unease failed to leave him, he made a cautious turn to better scan the street beyond. Bright though the city of Metropolis was at all hours due to the rectangular curtains of light that spilled forth from nocturnal storefronts and the glow of neon signs that only made their presence known once the sun fell, there was one forgotten side street his attention was drawn to, whose presence he normally overlooked due to the towering buildings it ran between that prevented any light from falling there.

Ratchet's fur stood on end when his searching gaze snapped onto a figure in the distance, standing at the edge of a beam of light created by a flickering streetlamp. Their form nearly blended into the darkness surrounding them, and he continued to watch them without daring to blink, as if to confirm that his eyes were not simply deceiving him. And then, just like that, the form merged into the darkness and was gone.

He stepped forward, as if such a small advance would make any real difference, and peered with squinted eyes into the black space where the shape had seemingly vanished. While small bands of people continued to roam about even at this hour, no one strayed from the security offered by streets more widely travelled. No one wandered into the alleys at night unless they had something to hide. Ratchet started forward again with a burst of speed, only to skid to a halt in the glow of one of the streetlights. He needn't wonder long where the mystery figure had gone, however, for his head zipped to the side at a rustling just in time to catch the retreating ankle of someone turning a corner.

Ratchet dashed after the mysterious figure without a second thought, his footsteps echoing off the towering walls of buildings that extended even further downwards than they did up. And yet, despite every bend in the path that he took, he could never advance beyond fleeting glimpses of the one he was pursuing, and it occurred to him with a sickening twinge in the pit of his stomach just how truly dark his surroundings had become. He had no idea of the hour, but he was certain he had stayed out far longer than he had planned, with naught but a single blaster and his wrench for defense.

The Lombax came to a stop in a courtyard with ragged breath, the reason for his sudden stillness due in part to the unexpectedness of such a drastic change in scenery. Even now, the target of his brief chase through Metropolis' back alleys remained out of sight, but before he could continue his search, his gaze was pulled upwards by the pointing beams of spotlights that wished to draw his attention to hanging ivy and the leafy branches of flowering bushes planted around the circular opening high above, through which light would surely pass when the sun was high. Had there been any sunlight at this hour, it would have fallen upon the courtyard's centerpiece, a grand fountain of many tiers, the water gone stagnant for nighttime, when no one would be about to enjoy its tranquility. In fact, it was absolutely silent here, far quieter than Ratchet would normally expect from such a busy and bustling city, and a part of him believed it wasn't just the late hour that was to blame, but the foliage itself for the stifling of any outside noise. Here, it was almost possible to forget the city in which this verdant alcove lay so deeply hidden, but he had not forgotten his reason for coming here.

Ratchet began to circle the lifeless fountain, his feet muffled to almost nothing on the soft grass spread out beneath him, and he paused when he laid eyes upon the very same figure he had been so adamantly pursuing mere moments ago. They stood with their back to him a good ten feet away, and yet, despite the increased illumination of this small, private space, their form even now remained dark and unclear, as if he was looking at something through a dirty lens. His fur pricked up as he studied the close-fitting robes that didn't so much as waver even upon someone who should have been breathing as heavily as he was now. If he hadn't known better, he might have assumed they were a statue for all the movement they made.

"Who are you?" Ratchet said, his voice sounding far louder than he knew it was. It was only instinct that had made him follow this person to begin with, and he began to wonder if he should feel victorious over reaching them or simple embarrassment for chasing some unknown stranger without cause.

In fact, this entire spectacle seemed utterly ridiculous now that he had been given a chance to think about it. And yet, their continued presence might have told him enough already, when one considered the clear lack of concern on display even after a Lombax had just pursued them through the darkened city streets seemingly without provocation. He stepped closer. "Say something! What did you want with Nefarious? What…what are you planning?"

Ratchet grew stiff when the figure made a slow turn, and his already pounding heart sped up further when he was met not with a face, but rather, a smooth, featureless surface. He remained silent, his mind working out an answer to this impossibility, until a grin split his feline features, and he released a single laugh. "You're not going to scare me. That's just a hologuise."

His smile didn't remain for long, however, for he was only greeted with more of the same eerie silence as before. The fingers of his right hand twitched. Across from him, the figure remained in place, their stance as tense as their pursuer's, like a cat ready to pounce at a moment's notice. The end of Ratchet's tail began to flick from side to side with no thought of his own.

The Lombax retreated back a step when the faceless…whoever-they-were reached behind them and pulled out a sickle from beneath their robes. The figure lifted it high overhead, as if to ensure the identity of the object did not go unnoticed. This effort proved effective, for Ratchet couldn't help but stare up at the curved blade, all the while questioning why they would choose to reveal something so archaic, especially for one possessing such advanced technology.

Before he could question such an unorthodox weapon choice any longer, the object was swung downward with such force that it continued to stick upright out of the ground where the blade had buried itself in the soil at its owner's feet. Arching an eyebrow at this curious display, the Lombax pulled out his blaster with the lightning-quick reflexes granted by years of practice when the figure began to stride straight for him with quick steps.

"Don't come any closer!" Ratchet said, retreating backwards in an arc around the silent fountain. "Another step, and I'll shoot!"

This challenge was only met with another drawn weapon, a gun far larger than his own. It was only the skill of the wielder that mattered in the end, not the size of the gun, but he couldn't help but pause mentally when electricity arced between the trio of prongs at the weapon's tip. A crackling ball of blinding blue and white began to form, growing in size until it was fired off at him with a mighty jerk that nearly sent the wielder reeling backwards before they could steady themselves. Ratchet leapt to the side just in time as the foot-wide mass of pure electricity struck the spot where he had just been standing with an explosion of soil and blackened blades of grass.

Ratchet fired off a few quick rounds of his own as his assailant came for him again, but they merely lifted a gloved hand in response, from which emanated a shimmering blue field that absorbed each and every shot sent their way before vanishing as soon as the danger was eliminated. Baring his teeth in a snarl, Ratchet tried again and again, keeping the fountain between them all the while, but none of his efforts managed to make contact. His heart quickened when his adversary readied their cannon again.

This time, the fountain took the brunt of it, its base crumbling and its many tiers collapsing upon themselves with a resounding crash of concrete. A small deluge of water peppered Ratchet's face, and he wiped moisture from his eyes as a cloud of dust began to snake upwards through the opening overhead like the smoke from a fire. That was a mistake. And he wasn't about to miss this opportunity.

The Lombax vaulted over the ruined fountain without a moment's hesitation, pulling out his wrench as he did so and raising it high in both hands, pure adrenaline alone enough to prevent him from hacking in the dust. He pounded the weapon down hard as he landed, the force sending a shockwave in all directions. When he lifted his gaze, his attacker had already vanished, and his head whipped around at a crackling from behind. Ratchet swung his wrench just as a new ball of electricity came careening towards him, a fraction of its charge transferring down his wrench and into his arm at the brief contact, causing him to hiss in pain at the sudden jolt, while the rest ricocheted right back at its source.

This, they absorbed with one raised hand just as easily as everything else, and he growled at the nonchalance in which they did so before dashing forward. Ratchet began to beat at them with his wrench with such ferocity that they could only block each strike with the side of their cannon, and it wasn't long before they staggered backwards when the effort to hold him back became too much to prolong. This time, it was his chance at pursuit, and he made no delay in closing the gap between them. Ratchet swung at them as soon as he was in range, and when they ducked out of the way, he swung again, this time striking them in the arm and sending them stumbling sideways as their injured limb flickered at the contact.

"Ha! It is just a hologuise!" Ratchet said. The Lombax's stance had once again gone still, feet outspread to steady himself, but his muscles remained taut with energy he was more than willing to unleash at a moment's notice. "So why don't you quit hiding behind it and show me what a coward really looks like!"

Ratchet lunged forward again, wrench drawn back and ready to strike, when he gasped at a tingling sensation that began at his chest and spread outwards with frightening speed, numbing him until every inch of his body was paralyzed in place. He remained frozen in his battle stance as his wrench slipped free from his grip a moment later, falling with a metallic rattle to the ground.

His attacker removed the end of the cannon, still crackling with electricity, from his chest, and straightened to their full height in the unhurried manner of one whose victory was assured. He could feel their unseen gaze staring into him, but all he could manage in return was the weakest twitch of his lip. Ever so slowly, almost in hesitation, they extended a hand, and Ratchet flinched on the inside when a gloved fingertip made contact with his nose. They pushed, applying more force until he felt himself tipping backwards. He landed with a grunt flat on his back, his heart still hammering from this sudden turn of events.

Ratchet fought against the electricity holding him in place as a tingling almost like a particularly intense itch began to creep in where before he had been numb, but his body refused to cooperate. All he could manage was a twitch of the fingers or the slightest grimace of his lips. His eyes, in fact, were the only part of him that was still functional, and they attempted to lock onto his attacker just before they strode out of sight. His breathing grew quick and strained, the muscles in his chest constricting from the residual electricity still flowing through him, and he listened as their footsteps crunched on the gravel that had been forced aboveground during the brief battle. And, unless he was mistaken, he thought he heard the scraping of something being pulled free. The light footfalls began to grow louder again, and their cloaked form returned to his field of vision, each movement slow and deliberate. The Lombax's heart leapt when he caught sight of the curved sickle hanging from one hand.

They lifted the weapon high in one steady motion, and Ratchet winced. And yet, the blow he expected never came, but instead faltered, and the figure lowered the primitive, and yet, he could imagine, frighteningly effective, blade back down to their side. Before he could comprehend the meaning behind their actions, they were gone, like smoke blowing in the wind, and he passed out.

I'm generally not very good at writing battles, but I think this one turned out pretty decent. At long last, the villain finally shows himself. I kind of just used "they" a lot to better distinguish between them and Ratchet. Otherwise, saying "he" and "his" for both characters would get confusing pretty quickly. Oh, and I have to give my mom credit for BAM. It's funny.

Please review, organics and robots alike!