The lights of the power plant occupied Ratchet's gaze throughout the entire trip. Thoughts of what happened to Clank roamed through his brain. There was no going back now. He turned to the team.
"We know what's about to happen," Ratchet started. "We're prepared for it. But the workers in there, the people around the area, they're not." He turned to where Captain Qwark hunched over in his seat. "Qwark, I need you to take Cora and Brax, and keep the civilians as far away from the plant as possible. If any more of Nefarious' warbots show up, you don't hesitate. You've got the best firepower on the planet. Use it."
"We're on it, Ratchet," Cora confidently replied.
"Dimitri, Clara," Ratchet continued, facing the detective and the woman, "you two focus on the innocents inside the plant. I'm trusting you both to look for Clank and the hostages. Get them out quickly and quietly. Dimitri, you've got a good eye. If you spot any workers that are still alive, get them out, too."
"What about Nefarious?" Clara questioned, worry creeping into her voice. "If he spots us, we're as good as dead."
"He won't," Ratchet answered confidently. "He won't see you." Both the detective and the woman looked at him, shock and fear painted on their faces. Ratchet easily understood why. The lombax knew his own part in the plan was probably one of the stupidest things he was ever going to do, but he also knew it needed to be done. It's me that Nefarious is after.
Unfortunately, it didn't take long for the Corethran to understand where Ratchet was coming from. "You need to find another way," Clara demanded bluntly, her eyes conveying nothing short of concern.
"There isn't another way," the lombax insisted. "I wish there was, but Nefarious said he would kill the hostages if anyone else showed up. This is the only way. Dimitri, what do you think?"
"I agree…with Ratchet," Dimitri added, his own eyes narrowed with suspicion. "I tried fighting the bastard, back on Zanathir. I couldn't defeat him, Clara. If Nefarious spots us, I doubt I'll be able to protect you."
Ratchet took Clara's hand in his own, his eyes bright with hope. "It's ok, Clara. I'll be fine. Nefarious won't back down from a fight with me. I'm certain of it."
"That's what I'm afraid of…" Clara mumbled, just loud enough for the lombax to hear.
Ratchet's ears lowered slightly at Clara's remark. He could feel the emotions swell up within him, but he shoved the feelings back down just as quickly. Not now. Clank needs us. He needs me. Instead, Ratchet turned his head toward the gunship's door as the vehicle landed at the rendezvous point.
Qwark faced the two Rangers accompanying him. "All right, then. Let's move." The captain hopped out of the gunship, Cora and Brax following suit.
"Good luck out there, Ratchet," Cora called out.
The lombax sent her a salute in response as the gunship took off once more. Cold, brisk air swept through his fur. The hero kept his eyes on his teammates as long as he could before they faded out of sight. He turned to Clara and Dimitri. "I'll come back. I promise," he spoke.
"You better come back. You're pretty much the sanest person here," Dimitri joked.
Ratchet couldn't help but chuckle. He took a deep breath, and leapt out. Harsh wind assaulted his face as he plummeted toward the loading platform. Ratchet aimed his swingshot at the railing, the grappling hook halting his descent easily. He couldn't help but gulp at the sheer sight of the drop below. A misfire of the swingshot could've surely resulted in sudden death.
As he pulled himself onto the loading platform, the lombax glanced toward the overlook and smiled. From where he stood, he could just make out the silhouettes of his fellow Rangers as they steered the power plant workers away from the building. So far, so good.
Turning away from the commotion, Ratchet tightened his grip on his wrench, and began the harrowing journey into the facility.
Dim lights and blaring alarms greeted Ratchet. The lombax's large ears fell flat against his head, agitated by the constant white noise. There was no way he would be able to find Clank or Nefarious in this chaos. His eyes locked onto the control switch, and he didn't hesitate to deactivate the alarm. The hero's ears relaxed, grateful for the sudden silence that now filled the corridor.
"Clank? Clank?!" Ratchet worriedly called out. The only answer he received was the consistent flickering of the dying lights. Chills crawled down the lombax's spine, as he tiptoed through the hallways. "Clank! Where are you, buddy?!" the hero tried again. Once again, he was met with silence.
A sinister chuckle echoed off the walls, and Ratchet froze, eyes darting back and forth as he searched for his adversary. The lombax's knuckles turned white, partially because of fear, partially because he held his wrench in a death grip. His breath came out in shudders, and his ears perked up as he listened for any signs that Nefarious was watching him.
He saw the glint of metal before he saw anything else.
The lombax gasped, tripping and landing on his backside as a clawed hand swiped at him. He could just make out the familiar shape of the assailing shadow. That was close. Ratchet's broken wrist throbbed with pain at the exertion, but he quickly brushed the feeling aside. I'll patch my wrist up later. Right now, Clank's probably hurt worse than I am.
"Come on out, you coward!" Ratchet hollered hoarsely. Given the circumstances, he was surprised he was able to speak at all. Brushing the dust off his armor, Ratchet shot to his feet, his eyes scanning the shadows in case Nefarious wanted to toy with him further.
Then again, now that he thought about it, Ratchet figured Nefarious had probably been toying with him all along. He'd been playing games with the lombax all the way back to their reunion in that warehouse on Zanathir. Capturing his friends and allies, manipulating Marcus, taunting Ratchet about his mistakes…it was all probably Nefarious' aim from the start. And now that the mad doctor had Clank in his grasp…
God knows what Nefarious did to my best friend.
He had no idea how long he'd been walking before he reached a glass door. One glance at the door was all that was needed for the lombax to feel sick to his stomach. The bloody handprint on the door, combined with the presence of the plant worker's corpse, only served to make the scene much more terrifying. It's like something out of a horror movie…who am I kidding? No horror movie could mimic this!
Ratchet stared at the door, brows furrowed as he concentrated. He noticed a keypad to the right of the door. Given the scarlet stains on the keycard slot, Ratchet guessed the worker had tried to make a break for it before Nefarious had caught him. That's another person dead now…and here I was, thinking Marcus had a killing spree going on. Now how do I get through this door?
A light bulb went off in his brain, and he knelt down next to the corpse. A foul smell invaded the lombax's nostrils as he flipped the worker onto his back. Ugh. I don't want to know. Ratchet pinched his nostrils shut, but that didn't stop him from groaning in disgust as he pulled a crimson stained key card out of the worker's pocket. The lombax closed the worker's lifeless eyes, before facing the door. "This had better work," he muttered, swiping the card through the slot on the keypad.
"Engineer Miles Stanton: access granted," the computer droned.
Bingo! Ratchet smiled to himself. If I survive this, I'm going to make sure this guy gets a proper burial. Focusing on the task ahead, Ratchet stepped through the doorway and caught his first glimpse of the vast space below. Judging from the sheer amount of machines, Ratchet had to guess he was in some sort of generator room. The generators churned along at a steady pace, and Ratchet felt relief wash over him, grateful that the haunting silence he had trekked through moments earlier had faded away.
"Nefarious! Where are you?" Ratchet shouted, eyes darting around the room. Another mad cackle resounded in the chamber, and Ratchet couldn't help but flinch at the harrowing noise.
The high-pitched whine—the sound of a charging weapon—was Ratchet's only warning to the energy blast thrown his way. The lombax could feel the searing heat brush past his fur as he dived out of the way.
"Looking for me?"
Ratchet swiveled around, his hands reaching for his wrench as he glared at his enemy.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Dr. Nefarious warned, the blood red eyes only making the room's haunting atmosphere even creepier. Ratchet's eyes shone with a mix of anger and curiosity as Nefarious whipped out a remote. "Interesting fact about electricity: there is such a thing as using too much power. You turn one light on, and that's that. But if you turn too many lights on at once, if you overload the system, then the entire circuit blows up." The cyborg threateningly held up the remote. "One wrong move, squishy, and I demonstrate this remarkable fact to the entire city firsthand!"
Ratchet gripped his wrench tightly in his hands, his eyes seeing red. He could do it. He could end Nefarious' life here and now, while he had the chance. But like a fading ghost, the moment came and went all too quickly. No…as long as Nefarious has that remote, he can control everything. No power means no resources, no communications, nothing! He'll plunge the entire city into chaos! Reluctantly, the lombax lowered his wrench in submission. He wasn't going to give up that easily, but right now, he had no choice.
"That's better," Nefarious purred, satisfied. "Isn't it so much easier when everyone just plays nicely? Just think, if you'd done that from the beginning, that girl you killed might still be breathing."
"What do you want?" Ratchet seethed, blood boiling at the sight of the demented grin on the mad scientist's metallic face.
"Simple," Nefarious casually answered, his feet clanking against the floor as he paced. "I want to kill you…"
I knew it.
"…yet I can't."
Wait, what?
"I can't kill you until I've claimed what I've desired for almost a year," Nefarious grinned evilly.
"So, that's your plan? You kidnapped my best friend, turned Marcus against the only family he had left, placed all of these innocent lives in danger, just so you can have a shot at hurting me?" Ratchet questioned, bewildered.
Nefarious' chuckle echoed through the generator room and sent chills crawling down Ratchet's spine. "You still don't get it, do you? I gave that chance to Marcus because I don't exactly need it yet. All my life, I've been ridiculed, laughed at, betrayed, but no longer. The Galactic Rangers, the people of the Solana Galaxy, they've torn me down, piece by piece. But now it's my turn to do the same to them. What better way to break the Rangers than to paint the room with your blood!"
Ratchet stared at the mad scientist, a growl of anger threatening to escape his muzzle. Nefarious, you bastard! You're lucky that remote's the only thing keeping me from ripping you to pieces. "If you think hurting me will do anything, then you really don't know me. We're all stronger than you realize!" the lombax shouted back, the fury he'd been containing struggling to make itself fully known.
"Believe me, I know. I know you and the Rangers don't care about your own demise…but everyone else will." His clawed hands gestured to the corners of the room. One look at the hidden cameras was all that was needed for the lombax to understand.
He doesn't want to break me. He wants to break everyone else!
"I'm going to make you scream, squishy," Nefarious purred eagerly. He stepped forward, his talons itching to tear into lombax flesh. "And you're going to stay right where you are, and take it. After all, you know what happens if you don't…"
Ratchet stood his ground, hands curled into fists, as he nervously tried to rid himself of the sudden lump in his throat. You can do this. For Clank. You can do this. The lombax reluctantly closed his eyes, and he silently prayed that whatever Nefarious was going to do, it would at least be swift…
She was lucky her footsteps didn't echo throughout the plant.
Clara ducked behind another portion of the wall, her eyes staring inquisitively at the exchange between the lombax and the cyborg. For Ratchet's sake as well as her own, she hoped the lombax was good at keeping the attention on himself. The human gripped the straps of her backpack. She couldn't help but take comfort in the reminder that her gear was still with her.
An alarming amount of blood and oil stained the floor, telling the woman and the detective that they were in the right place. Dimitri swiftly slapped his hand over the lock, his rifle aimed at the doorway in case any warbots tried to get the drop on them.
A horrid smell invaded Clara's nostrils as she entered the makeshift cell, nearly causing her to gag. She looked around, but darkness was the only thing that filled her vision. The woman couldn't help but wonder how Nefarious was capable of whatever cruelty had occurred in here.
"Miss…W-Westbrook?"
Clara's eyes widened at the familiar voice. She spun around, her hands shaking in terror at the cursed sight.
Had the warbot been damaged further, she probably would've mistaken it for a stray wrecked Zurkon. But it was still him, nonetheless. Clanks' metallic body was littered with scorch marks and cuts. Oil leaked out of the deepest lacerations, and sparks flew from the busted shard of glass that was Clank's left eye. As for the defect's left arm, Clara found herself staring at it far longer than she wanted to, eyes glazed with horror at the mangled stump where the arm used to be.
"Oh my God," Clara croaked. Questions raced through the young woman's mind, but the shock of the whole situation prevented her from asking any of them.
"What in the hell?" Dimitri cried out, recoiling in fear at the warbot's brutalized state. "Christ, Clank, what happened to you?"
Clank struggled to speak, but the only noise that came out was a distorted groan of misery. The haunting sound quickly spurred Clara to action. She glanced around the room, and her breath hitched in her throat.
At least Clara knew what that smell was now. It was the smell of death and decomposition.
The headless corpse of a Fongoid lay in the cell corner, flies eagerly swarming around the body. Clara turned her eyes toward the living civilians. The mother's tear-stained eyes were locked onto the corpse, almost as if she was expecting the Fongoid to come back to life. The two children were similarly chained up, quietly whispering with each other in a futile attempt to keep their minds off of the horrid sight in the corner.
I need to free them, but how? I don't have—wait! Why didn't I think of it sooner? Dropping to her knees, Clara reached into her backpack, easily grabbing what she needed.
Marcus' machete.
With a flick of the switch, the blade spurred to life, vibrant energy dancing around the weapon's edges. She swung the blade, and gravity harshly pulled Clank to the floor, the chains that held him practically shattered by the blade's heat. The warbot struggled to keep his good eye open.
Dimitri knelt down, carefully taking Clank's battered body and lifting it up. "I've got him," he told Clara. "Take care of the civvies."
Clara nodded her head in agreement, and approached the short line of terrified civilians, their eyes shining with hope strong enough to overwhelm the woman then and there. She freed the children first. The Corethran almost fell over as the two Markazian kids embraced her in a grateful hug. She could feel their trembling. They're scared. They're scared of Nefarious and his minions.
"Shh. It's okay," Clara whispered, holding the two close as they wept. "You're gonna be okay." It was ironic, in a way. Mark had used that same, soothing voice to calm Clara whenever she had a nightmare.
Marcus. The younger sibling hadn't even thought about what happened to her brother. A horrid thought occurred to her. Was Marcus in on this? Did he even know that innocent people would be taken and tortured? Even if he did know, would he have done anything to stop it?
The woman had just finished cutting the Markazian mother's chains when her ears picked it up. A scream.
Why does that voice sound familiar…No!
"Ratchet…" Clara realized.
Dimitri's eyes widened in realization, and his hand lashed out, catching Clara's shoulder in a strong grip. "These people need us. Ratchet's doing his job. We need to do ours. C'mon."
The human said nothing in reply, hopeful eyes locked onto the barren hallway in front of them.
"Clara, please," the detective insisted, tugging Clara's arm forward.
"Miss Westbrook…" Clank's distorted voice stuttered. The warbot reached forward with the only arm he had left, weakly grabbing Clara's hand. She turned to look him in his good eye as he struggled to speak up, "W-we cannot…s-stay here…much…l-longer…"
Clara wanted so badly to help, but she knew helping Ratchet would be futile. Nefarious would catch on to their plan, and the civilians would die. Ratchet and Clank would die. I guess you were right, Ratchet. This is the only way. "You're right," she spoke, turning back to the group. "Let's move. The nearest exit is this way."
Reluctantly, the younger Westbrook led the group out of the makeshift cell, their combined footfalls echoing through the corridor.
No matter how much she wished otherwise, Clara couldn't block out those familiar screams.
Whew! Another chapter done!
I can't help but feel bad for what I'm putting Ratchet through.
Anyways, thanks for your patience, and I will have the next chapter posted soon. Have a great day! :)