Forgive me if this chapter's a bit all over the place. Just 'checking up' on different characters to remind you of things from previous chapters that where written AGES ago XD
Lifeforce Chapter 51
"Just because something isn't a lie does not mean that it isn't deceptive. A liar knows that he is a liar, but one who speaks mere portions of truth in order to deceive is a craftsman of destruction."
―Criss Jami
Tore and Knocks
Cronk and Zephyr, of course, broke the silence.
"Who the heck was that on the communicator?!" The former snapped, prodding Ratchet roughly in the shoulder. Ratchet blinked, slowly. The sound had gone now, and the call had ended.
"I think it was the guy in armour again." He said. Think was an understatement; he was pretty sure it was him. Nefarious scoffed.
"That moron is crazier than you twits say I am." He said lowly, hands still on his hips. "If you're done gaping at your little devices..."
"Do tell us why you are here, Nefarious." Clank said in a pleasant voice. He was beaming more than he ever had during this hellish mission. Nefarious's jaws began grinding dangerous together – Ratchet wondered if he'd seen a spark or two fly from the joints.
"Oh, you must think you're so slick – I didn't come here to buddy-buddy with you half-wits this time."
"Then what? Think we'll help you if you don't help us?" Ratchet retorted scathingly, having little amusement for Nefarious right now. He brandished his blaster at him, "In case you haven't noticed, we were right – the Loki and Tachyon used you and now they probably have control of your assets!"
"Assets that could very well help them crush you!" Nefarious barked, stamping forward – the party, despite having the upper hand, stepped away from the infuriated robot. He folded his arms with a loud clank. "I'd just managed to get back control of my minion when that cragmite showed up!"
"Not happy, is he?" Ratchet said plainly. Nefarious quirked a brow at Ratchet's oddly bitter look.
"Whatever you did to tick him off, you did it good. He's acting more reckless than usual. "
"So it seems the wheels are coming off. Maybe stopping the remaining villains will not be so hard." Clank said, rubbing his chin. Nefarious scoffed,
"You think they'll nullify each other? This isn't physics, Backpack." He pointed a finger at the group, and Cronk and Zephyr lifted their weapons in response, "Whoever gets out on top of this is still going to grind you lot into pate!"
"What makes this time different than all the others?" Ratchet returned, scowling. Nefarious sneered.
"Let's be clear on something." He said slowly, placing his hands behind his back and glowering at the group in front of him, "I am doing this as a means to an end. Not a favour, not because I like you, but because it benefits me."
"...Try me." Ratchet said lowly. Nefarious folded his arms again.
"Tachyon and the parasite where sure they were going to get the real book before you." Ratchet blinked at 'real' but decided to think of it later – "And they were already going after a different lead. I saw it when I was re-taking control of my minions from the database."
"Cut to the chase, before we blast ya!" Cronk barked. Nefarious's scowl deepened.
"Apparently the parasite found 'evidence' of some kind of artefact that your purple friend found years ago. He-"
"Artefact." Ratchet repeated. The image popped into his head, the thing he'd seen in Ickabar's memories – the blue, glass ball that had been embedded in rocks in the caves. The thing that had...shocked him. "Like some kind of ball?"
Nefarious stared at him. "...Hmph. Whatever it is, it's going to be hard for your squishy self to get to. Apparently it's on Planet Kraig."
Ratchet blinked. Kronk and Zephyr, however, looked horrified. "Ya can't be serious!"
"It's a trap, must be!" Zephyr said quickly, "Why would Ickabar go through the trouble of hiding it there?"
"Considering all the darned trouble that stuff has caused so far I'm not surprised." Nefarious grumbled. Ratchet hated to agree. He was no expert on the Polaris planets like the two old warbots, though.
"What's so bad about Kraig?" He said, bracing himself for whatever horror was in store. Zephyr rubbed the back of his head uneasily,
"It's surrounded by asteroid storms, sunny, and lightnin' never stops on the surface – it's like a toaster being chucked into a bathtub but never stops sizzlin'!"
Of course. Ickabar had gone the extra mile to hide this thing. "...Lovely."
Nefarious turned and began sauntering off, "You didn't hear any of this from me, morons!"
Ratchet called after him quickly, "Why should we believe –"
"Ratchet, he is telling the truth." Clank said in a rather smug, knowing tone. Ratchet raised a brow at his little friend.
"...And you knew this how?"
He chortled, "Call it a hunch, Ratchet. But Nefarious is not as bad as he believes he is. At least, not anymore."
Ratchet sniffed, turning his head away, "Wish I could agree, buddy. But I guess I wouldn't put it above him to use us to get at the other two without the backlash landing on 'im."
"Yeah, keep walking!" Zephyr called mockingly after Nefarious' departing back. Cronk snickered loudly,
"Not so tough without all yer zombie minions, eh?"
Ratchet turned away, getting ready to move on again when another thought struck him. "Hang on – Nefarious!"
The robot stopped and shot him a scathing look over his shoulder. Ratchet wasn't deterred, "If you guys didn't find the 'real' book yet – then how did Tachyon – or the Loki – know the artefact could be on Kraig?"
Nefarious paused, and his jaw moved slowly in thought. "I was asking the same thing, Squishie. Wherever they got it, it wasn't from me."
And he marched off with footsteps that just screamed finality. Ratchet felt something stir on his back. Trisby gave a small, irritable mumble.
"We don't have time to dawdle, dreamer boy." Ratchet sighed and began walking again.
"...C'mon. We'd better get out of here."
...
Rookus found himself staring blankly at Fiver's petrified face. The little Thora's chest was heaving with terror; he looked like a startled mouse now more than ever. "...You're being silly. How are we all going to die?"
"Cragmites. Someone – someone made them angry, and they don't like being threatened..." Fiver turned away from him, his hands on his head. Rookus tried to keep his face blank this time. However, Fiver turned his head and looked back at him, catching it.
"...You knew about this, too? Did you – did you-?"
"No, I did not 'make the cragmites angry'." Rookus said stiffly, folding his arms. Being accused of such a childish act miffed him. Fiver gave him a hard look either way.
"But someone in your race did. Do you not understand what they are? What they do?"
"More so than you." Rookus said plainly, knowing even Fiver would have to agree. The little Thora just grew more agitated, but this time with anger thrown in.
"Oh, huius mali!" Fiver burst. Rookus blinked at the sudden use of his native tongue. He spoke the language so well he almost forgot.
"Excuse me?"
"You understand what they are but some of you have the audacity to mess with them anyway! Whoever it was – they've brought something horrible to us – not just the end of us, but the..." He covered his head again.
"You act as if there would be something 'worse' than the end of our species." Rookus said, not really believing that would happen anyway.
"...Oh...worse." Fiver said quietly. "You do not understand. You don't sense it at all..."
Fiver had his back to him again, quietly staring downward and trembling. Rookus sighed and raised a hand, almost hesitant to tough the Thora in case he gave him a heart attack or something. "I think you need to rest for a minute."
Fiver turned his head to him slowly. "...We must leave. All of us, right now..." He shifted, fiddling with his hands. "It might not be too late – they haven't began yet, maybe there's a chance some of us can get away –"
He swooped away a bit. Rookus blinked, "Wait – What are you talking about?!"
"The cragmites are coming and we all must leave!" Fiver burst, "Haven't you been listening?!"
"To a mad person, I'm beginning to think." Rookus muttered. Fiver scowled,
"You have to tell your species. Tell them the cragmites are here – "
Rookus hadn't been expecting it. His mind didn't register it at first.
All he knew was that one moment he was standing in a cool, quiet clearing talking to Fiver – and the next a blazing heat had filled the air and a blinding brightness had erupted all around. The Loki gave a growl, lifting his arms to shield himself from the exposure as something, like a very strong gust of wind, hit him. It almost knocked him over, but he managed to stay up.
Fiver wasn't so lucky. His small form was hit against a nearby tree, slipping to the ground with a yelp of pain. Rookus lowered his arm, and gaped.
"...It's not possible..."
Panic. He'd never felt panic such as this. He knew what this was, what was happening. And it was utterly, utterly possible.
Fiver dragged himself back to his feet, shaking. "...I must find my brother." He said, his voice thick. Rookus's head jerked to him.
"This – I know what is causing this. There is no time – we may have something that will save us, but if you go back now – you won't escape!"
"I must." Fiver said, moving through the air. Rookus reached out and seized his arm.
"You fool! Did you not hear me? The planet –" His own realization of what exactly would happen finally registered, and it made the words die in his throat.
Logic over emotion, he forcefully told himself.
"The planet...will be destroyed." He said, as Fiver looked back at him mournfully, "You can't save them. You must leave with us while you still can."
Fiver smiled. A faint, sad, broken smile. "There is a goodness in you many of your kind do not process, Rookus." He said thickly. Fiver's smile faded and he turned once more,
"But I must get to my brother. I must."
Rookus knew he couldn't convince him, and let go. He watched him glide away through the brightness, and shook his head slowly. Logic tried to keep him in tact over what was happen - return to the citadel, get out while you can – but he felt a heaviness that plagued him.
He turned and swooped away, trying not to feel anything as his home, culture and history was burning to a crisp.
...
As the group was walking, Trisby made no snarky comments or remarks. She was aware that Clank was holding onto her, both of them strapped to Ratchet's back like funny little keychains. She was also aware of how much blood she'd lost and how the nanotech had come a bit later than it should have. She was tired, and her eyes where only half open.
But her mind was moving steadily. Slowly, but steadily. Clank was right on one point- the wheels where coming off for the so-called 'super-villains' but it didn't mean the damage they were all doing would be limited.
Her mind drifted to Ratchet. How odd, the universe was, she mused. How it acted like it had a mind of its own. Sometimes she was sure it did – Orvus himself would agree...
It wasn't immortal. Time had been damaged, the fabric of reality had been damaged, and now this mess. Ratchet seeing things that weren't meant to be seen by someone like him. The universe was breaking its own rules...Ratchet was the anti-virus.
She closed her eyes. Part of her wished, slightly, to comfort Ratchet on this plight of his. But she doubted it would do any good. Nor would it do her any...
"Trisby...?"
She could have responded to Clank's worried tone, but she didn't.
...
"I have some interesting news..."
Orange was back in the dimly lit chamber. Where the imprisoned man hung suspended in the air by an energy bubble around him, looking as limp and lifeless as a ragdoll in the darkness. From where Orange stood, he could barely make out his face. Grinning none the less, he continued,
"Both the Keeper's son and the cragmite are homing in on planet Kraig. It's all going according to plan, don't you think? They'll be so preoccupied –"
"Dealing with each other that you'll be able to waltz through and get what you want." The man said flatly, "How clever. Forgive me if I do not applaud you, my hands are a little tired."
Orange's grin shifted just a little. "You seem spunkier than usual." He said plainly. The man chuckled.
Not laughed. Not snickered. Just a quiet little chuckle that was devoid of any amusement. Orange's smile faded this time.
"...You obviously feel something's tipped in favour for you." He turned, placing his hands behind his back casually. "What could it be...? And how would you know?"
"You just told me." The hanging man said slowly, his voice flat and blank again. The orange lombax snickered, turning back to face him.
"All right then, I'll play your game. I'll let my plan go on and keep my eye out for the little technicality that you think is going to stop me."
Without warning, the cuffs holding the man in the air ignited –sending a violent bolt of electricity through his body. He jerked, his back arching, and giving a broken yell of pain that rang through the room.
Orange trotted off, humming to himself, a little faster than he usually would.
...
Tressakay was thrown from where she'd hovered to the ground, the force of the blast knocking all of the air from her body. She felt dazed, and her blood pricked against her skin and the sudden impact. Her body ached and for a second, she was frozen.
It came again. Another blast, making the world around her shudder. There was a horrible, painful heat in the air, like fire, scorching against her back. She could hear screams beginning to ring out around her, people yelling – confusion all around. Finally, she shifted her body and lifted her head.
The sky was alight with an orange yellow glow, like the sunset of the foreign worlds she'd heard of in books, only far brighter and far less beautiful. She could see cracks moving across the ground yards away from her. Her heart began beating fast, the pain in her body making her unable to move any quicker. Tressakay lifted her arm and dragged it forward, trying to push herself off the ground. Another blast rocked the ground and the screams of the other Thora lifted higher.
She saw Gothal. Meters away, looking back over her shoulder, heading back to the path to the Loki dwellings. For a second her eye met Tressakay's, and for a second the girl thought she saw a hint of hesitance.
But the older woman turned and swooped away out of sight, leaving her where she was. Tressakay gritted her teeth, feeling an odd churn in her chest, and looked up toward the sky.
Another blast came, this time a painful white flashing in the sky. Tressakay was thrown onto her back from the force of it, the heat was almost sickening. Growling, she forced herself up, the numbness leaving her.
"LOOK OUT!"
The screech came from above. Tressakay's heard jerked to the side. Above the rock face overlooking the clearing had been struck by something – something bright. It crumbled, large rocks tumbling down. Tressakay's eyes widened and she reeled back –
A heavy piece of the rock-face hit her back and she screeched, the pain searing her back. She fell on her stomach, the rock pinning her to the ground, and she felt something in her tear. Her vision became fuzzy.
The screams sounded further away now. But, her other senses flared like the fire in the sky. She lifted her head, staring up at the sky, feeling a sneer contort her face. Fury, and hatred, none like she'd ever felt was pounding through her. Never had she wanted someone to hurt someone so much, to claw, clear and pound at them. Never had she wanted someone to die so much.
The fury came as coldness, spreading through her pained, broken body, and making the shock of the sudden attack on her world fade a little. In the rubble around her, she saw a small ball roll by her. Whatever it was before now, it did not matter. She reached out and seized the little orb, and in her grasp, an icy formation began to grow, crackling.
Lifting her head, she looked up upon the sky again, her arm shaking with effort, and lifted the sphere towards it above her head. As she did, the natural glow of her spirit form began to fade. She could see it fading from her arm, the pink glow of her chest dimming like fading embers. She felt the coolness begin to fade, not making way for warmth – but instead becoming no temperature at all.
Her vision faded. Her thoughts began trailing off. The sphere burst from her hand and soured upwards to the sky; a bright, glowing orb of pale ice blue. Her hand remained there, extended to the sky, for a second.
Slowly she fell, her head knocking gently against the ground, her hand falling to the soil.
The last coherent thing she knew was the sound of something cracking, and silence.
...
Toranux's destruction had happened too quickly for the horror of it to sink in. The Loki Master stood in the cockpit of the ship, alone. Wherever Tachyon had gone to brood, he'd stayed there a long while. The Loki slowly drummed his claws on the side of his throne, leaning ever so slightly against the inner wall. He didn't sit down. He didn't usually no matter how tired he was.
In all sense he should feel happy with the situation. Nefarious gone, that little wench injured and possibly dead, the lombaxes running around franticly without a solid plan, and Tachyon leaving him alone.
But Tachyon wasn't in the ground, Nefarious was alive, and there was still a glimmer of hope for said rats running around. Grumbling, he rubbed his eyes.
It had been so long ago, and yet the anger remained. Dimmer and more controlled anger, now. If it hadn't been he would have murdered Tachyon by now.
It irked him, how long it had been, without even a taste of revenge. Oddly, now it would be the Thora aiding that revenge. He supposed they 'deserved' it, not that he felt any compassion or pity for their species' destruction. But perhaps it was a little poetic that the cragmites be torn down by the people they had destroyed centuries ago. Killed by a memory.
He looked at the doorway of the cockpit, and smirked to himself. Perhaps their leader had already been struck a blow by a memory.
...
Tachyon was indeed brooding alone somewhere. His minions dare not approach him. He was still upon his throne; something that some forgot was actually not attached to him. He'd told his drophids to leave him be while he plotted, in the dimly lit lab where his forgotten projects lay here and there. In his youth he'd be tinkering with such things, now they felt incredibly meaningless to the bigger picture.
He had his sceptre standing upright line a cane, and his forehead leaned against it a little as he thought, and ugly scowl on his face. He felt heaviness; a nagging sensation he couldn't place, and try as he may he couldn't untangle it from his mind.
Why should he care if Ickabar was dead all of these years? He was nothing to him, he had never really been. It had been a lie. He did not owe pity to the fowl little creature.
And yet being left in the dark about it made him angry. He didn't like things being hidden from him.
That little pest caused me enough grief. I do not feel regret. He was a nuisance in my way. He is the cause of all of this, he and his little friends.
His grip on the sceptre tightened as the heaviness only increased, like a persistent headache. Tachyon frowned.
If the lombax thought this was going to get to him, he was wrong. That thought made a surge of anger lurch in him, and it pushed away the heaviness a little. He straightened up and cracked his fingers.
No lombax was going to get at him every again.
