Sorry I've been so slow to update. This chapter has a whole lot of scenes because I need to get this story moving!

Chapter 24: Gotta Love That Sweet Exposition

Staring out the viewport of the Starship Phoenix, it was impossible to believe that they drifted just beyond the outer reaches of the black hole that had sent this entire sector into the nightmarish darkness that could only be seen to be believed. It was the darkness one finds behind their eyelids at night, when, as a child, you were certain something horrifying and monstrous lurked on the other side of them. And if you could just keep them shut tight until morning, you'd be safe. Except, opening or closing your eyes was all the same here.

Any doubts Ratchet had felt, however, that this had been the correct location of the black hole was assuaged when Captain Qwark accidentally jettisoned the ship's trash into space. It had taken several days for the black hole to pull it all in, a span of time in which Ophelia wouldn't stop complaining. Dumping trash into the potential site of her ancestors' lost home was apparently quite distressing to her. He considered this to be payback for her having the maintenance bots paint flames on Aphelion's hull the other day. She had claimed it was meant as a "cool surprise". Though it was certainly the latter, he could only roll his eyes at the former.

"Are you absolutely sure this distance is safe?" the Lombax asked and turned back to catch his friend glance over from the computer monitor he was currently sitting in front of, the proper height obtained thanks to a pile of books that had been placed on his seat. The binder Ophelia had retrieved from the research facility was open on the counter before him, the computer being used to provide backup for anything the robot wished to confirm.

It had taken a lot of coaxing to get Ophelia to leave the robot to his own devices. If her beliefs concerning the black hole were sound, Ratchet reasoned, Clank would inevitably come to the same conclusion. Physically pushing her out the door helped, too.

"Yes, Ratchet. As I reiterated the last time you asked me," Clank began, turning to the next page of his research notes, "I was very careful in my calculations of the black hole's gravitational pull, in relation to its size and the rate at which it attracted the ship's…eh, refuse to it."

Ratchet padded further into the room, putting an increased, if negligible, distance between himself and the trash-gobbling monstrosity behind him. "I think I'd feel more confident if you didn't keep redoing those calculations."

"Yes, but you forget that I arrive at the same result every time. And I only repeat them because you ask me to."

The Lombax waved a dismissive hand at his friend. "Okay, all right, point taken. I guess I'm just overreacting to the fact that we're floating around next to one of the most dangerous things in the universe. Forget I said anything."

The little robot blinked at him. "Do you want me to double check my calculations again?"

Ratchet bared his teeth in a grin. "After we've been friends…how many years, you really need to learn when I'm joking."

With a shrug, his friend returned to scanning the notes before him, optics sometimes lifting to the computer screen. The smile the little robot had given him in return had been lukewarm, as if only conjured up in polite response to the Lombax's own expression. It could just be because he was busy and distracted with other matters. Or it could be something else. Something had been decidedly…off about Clank lately. He knew why. Ratchet understood fully that recovery from what he had witnessed on Virditia would not come overnight. Any pretense of normality was strictly for the Lombax's benefit. That was all.

Ratchet inwardly shook these thoughts loose. Too often they had taken up residence within his mind, cutting with their sharp claws and teeth. He logically knew that he couldn't protect Clank from everything. But rarely did he ever have to actually face that fact.

If he allowed Ophelia's friend to achieve his goals, he'd have to face it again. And this time, the damage would be permanent.

Tearing away from these nagging concerns for the second time, Ratchet took to rummaging about in the lab for no other reason than to distract himself from the matter at hand. The lab of the Starship Phoenix was as baffling a room as he'd imagined, with cabinets filled with devices whose names or purposes at which he could only guess. Even the laboratory computers held countless log entries and patents for inventions that defied belief, the most mind-boggling courtesy of a Dr. Valence, dated nearly 20 years ago. All he needed was a good, old-fashioned wrench to get the job done, not particle accelerators and spectrometers.

The Lombax's bored musing were interrupted when the door to the lab slid open, revealing none other than Ophelia herself. It was her fifth visit today, and he seriously doubted that it would be her last.

"No, Ophelia, Clank isn't finished yet. We'll let you know once we've determined whether or not you're insane." Ratchet grinned over at her from where he had sat down on the corner of a nearby worktable. He didn't even need to see the tightening of her lips to know she was less than amused.

"That's actually not the reason I'm here, but it's good to see you're still being a sassy jerkface." Despite this denial, it was not lost on Ratchet that Ophelia couldn't stop herself from glancing over in Clank's direction, hands on her waist.

The Lombax raised both eyebrows. "Sassy jerkface, huh?"

"Hmm." The woman's pursed expression tilted into a smirk. "The real reason I'm here is because-"

Before she could go on, a voice crackled to life over the intercom. "Hey, cadets! And cadet-ette…" The speaker cleared his throat before continuing in a deeper tone. "Attention, passengers, this is your Captain speaking." Qwark could be heard breaking down into giggles, amidst a muffled, "I've always wanted to say that."

"What do you need this time, Qwark?" Ratchet addressed the ceiling.

"Nothing in particular. Though, thanks a bundle for helping me find the kitchen earlier. I really had a craving for peanut butter. I swear they must have moved it to a whole different section of the ship."

"Uh-huh. You're welcome…I guess. Anything else?"

"Oh, right, the real reason why I called was I think I just figured out which button controls the trash chute. I even labelled it with a sticky note so I'll never- Uh…hmm…"

They all stared up at the silence that greeted them, and this time, it was Clank's turn to speak. "Captain Qwark, is everything all right?"

"What, oh yes, ev-everything's fine. That was," the Captain let out a nervous laugh, "that turned out to be the…the airlock. Uh…how many of those little maintenance robots do we have?"

"Precisely 568, I believe," was the little robot's response. His optics narrowed, "Why?"

There was another awkward laugh, followed by, "Well, we don't anymore…." Qwark coughed. "Oh, and Ophelia…?"

The Virditian stood at attention, shrieking at the top of her lungs with a massive grin on her face. "Sir, yes, sir!"

"Operation Jumpscare is starting in fifteen minutes! If you don't pull off the Micro-Maneuver soon, the whole mission will be a failure!"

"I'm on it, Big Q!"

"Godspeed, Flailing Mantis!"

Ratchet's ears jumped up in alarm as the overhead speaker clicked off. "Wait, what?"

"Oh, right, Ratchet…um, I-I haven't got much time! Just make sure you get down to the crew's quarters soon!" Ophelia clapped her hands together and bounced on her toes. "I gotta get going! Bye!" With a final, enthusiastic giggle, she dashed for the door.

The Lombax stood, attempting to forestall her exit with a raised hand and an urgent, "Ophelia!"

She came to a stop after nearly smacking headlong into the door, which had barely been given an opportunity to slide open at her approach. "Oh, yeah," she spun to face him, "Qwark's Big Q and I'm Flailing Mantis. I'm still working on a nickname for you, but…"

"No, what is so urgent? What's going on?"

"Right. Well, I'm on popcorn-duty, and Qwark ordered pizza." She frowned and scratched the side of her face. "Though, I don't think it's going to show up on time. According to their website, we're a lightyear from the nearest Bodacious Pizza, but he didn't seem to get the point. Do you think pizza delivery ships come equipped with warp speed?"

Before the Lombax could answer, his heartbeat just now beginning to slow alongside his burgeoning understanding of the situation, she cut him off once more. "No matter. I'll figure something out. Just get down to the crew's quarters in fifteen minutes, STAT! We're gonna have a scary movie night. Bring a fresh pair of undies in case the sheer terror is too much for you."

"Instead of making popcorn, I'd think a better use of your time would be to make sure that Qwark doesn't press any more buttons. I'd hate to find out we also have a self-destruct button."

Apparently taking his suggestion as a mere joke, the Virditian snorted at him as she turned and disappeared through the doorway.

Safely forgotten amidst this worrying conversation, it was only now that Clank found reason to look over, optics tilted in curiosity. "And why would watching a scary movie warrant extra undergarments?"

"Don't worry about it, Clank. Just consider it to be one of the many advantages of being a robot."

Clank's attention remained locked skyward in thought for a moment longer before he nodded. "I see. Well," he turned back to the binder, one finger extended to scan the next line of text, "as much as your company is appreciated, do not feel you need to remain here. I am quite capable of continuing my research on my own."

"Is this a nice way of saying I'm not being much help?"

The robot turned a stern look his way, though some of the strength of the expression was lost thanks to the robot's crooked grin. "Ratchet, go have fun. If I recall correctly, Captain Qwark's past terror during The Twisted Mind of Dr. Demise seemed to amuse you."

The Lombax sniggered at the memory. "You'd think that movie was a comedy based on how hard I was laughing." He let out an additional snort when he remembered the superhero's newest title as self-proclaimed leader of the group. "And I think you mean 'Captain Captain Qwark'."

The little robot giggled.

He supposed his friend had a point, after all. It could be fun. Plus, he didn't think Ophelia was going to take no for an answer. After all, what was it people often said when you couldn't win them all? Oh, right. Pick your battles.

At least getting Clank to smile was one battle that was worth winning.

Steering Qwark away from one of his own movies was another victory well worth the effort. And fortunately, he also had Ophelia on his side. Though she seemed far less averse to the superhero's movies than she rightly should have been, she was apparently quite adamant that they watch scary movies this evening rather than funny ones. Qwark's chosen movie was clearly not intended as a comedy, but Ratchet thought he understood where she was coming from.

Seeing as the pizzas had not yet arrived, Ophelia had settled instead for creating her very own "deconstructed mini-pizzas" to take their place. She had informed him upon entering the crew's quarters that the Phoenix kitchen was lacking in pizza crust, sauce, and pepperoni, so they had to settle with some partially melted cheese carefully piled atop circles of sliced white bread adorned with ketchup. The rest of the edible part of the festivities included assorted fizzy beverages, salty snacks, and of course, the requisite popcorn present at all movie nights. To do otherwise would be considered "blasphemy", according to Ophelia, who seemed to be taking her newfound love of movies a tad too seriously.

Her enthusiasm was infectious, Ratchet had to admit. It was easy to take such simple things as watching movies for granted. Why, Ratchet distinctly remembered the excitement he had felt when he discovered that his and Clank's new apartment in Metropolis had come equipped with a garbage disposal, something his home back on Veldin had sorely lacked. He had dropped all kinds of interesting things into the sink before learning that garbage disposals can't quite grind up everything.

Who could have guessed that a banana peel would prove to be its undoing?

"By the way, who is watching the bridge?" Ratchet asked as the opening credits began, lights already off in preparation of the impending frights.

"Oh, don't worry about it," Qwark said, voice muffled as he worked around the mouthful of popcorn he was munching on. "The maintenance bots are taking care of that while I'm away."

"It makes him seem rather redundant, doesn't it?" Ophelia said with a wink directed at the Lombax beside her. He had barely enough time to spare her a smirk in return when the Virditian turned to slap the superhero's hand away from the remote for trying to fast forward, hissing once more the single word of "blasphemy!"

The Lombax released a sigh, settling deeper into the soft couch as the title of their first movie, Voodoo Madness, swooped onto the screen. Even heroes needed breaks sometimes, and this would certainly be a much appreciated one.

Unlike garbage disposals, free time had been one of the few things he had not lacked back on Veldin.

Several hours later, and Ratchet's bones were just beginning to recover from the bear hug into which he and Ophelia had been scooped during a particularly intense scene where it was revealed that the lead character's grandmother had been under the voodoo priest's control all along. After that, the door to the crew's quarters had been sealed shut at Qwark's request, lest any zombies happened to swim their way through the vacuum of space and climb aboard.

Since then, the credits had begun to roll on their second movie of the evening, allowing them time to discuss just how believable it really was for the unassuming librarian to have turned into a murderous psychopath thanks to an unfortunate ice cream cone accident.

"She knew it would melt one day," Ophelia had said, "so why soil your morality over something so fleeting? Why not leave the big decisions up to your experiences with something far more lasting? Crackers, for example."

Ratchet rolled his eyes. "Who even cares why she did it? Why would she die of a heart attack just because the kid returned a book late? I mean, come on, how lame is that?"

"Well, I actually kind of liked that part. At least they tried to make her into a relatable character."

"Are you kidding me? That was the dumbest thing I've ever seen in my life!"

Their movie critique was interrupted by a less-than-manly shriek from Qwark, who pointed at the door, all the while quivering and attempting to chew on the fingernails of his other hand through his glove. "Ratchet, there's someone at the door!"

Ratchet huffed. "It's probably Clank! Ophelia, let him in, would you?"

She gawked at him. "Me? What if it's a brain-sucking zombie? I think Super Q should do it. He's less susceptible to the whole brain-devouring thing."

Ratchet sniggered.

Captain Qwark rose, quaking, to his feet, and threw out his chest, a stance that was made far less effective when it was done in slow motion, and planted his fists on his waist. "She's right. I'm the only one here qualified to vanquish evil-doers, even those that are…" he gulped, "eh, undead and possessed by a Fongoid voodoo priest."

Ratchet's eyebrow arched with no thought needed on his part.

Qwark glanced between them, on the search for volunteers. Finding none, he headed for the door, gloved hand extending, only to draw back at a voice from the other side. But not in a "from beyond the grave" sense of the term, of course….

"Would you please open the door?"

Qwark shot a frightened stare in Ratchet's direction. "Robots can't be zombified, too, right?"

Rolling her eyes, Ophelia headed for the door when it appeared the superhero lacked the courage to finish the job himself. "Don't be silly! They can certainly turn rogue, but they can't be turned into zombies." She unlocked the door, allowing it to slide open. "You haven't developed a sudden hatred of all living things, have you?"

Rather than dignify such a query with a response, Clank merely stared up at her, tablet clutched in one hand, before peeking around to find Qwark now withdrawn to the back corner of the room and a Lombax still sitting on the couch with an amused smirk on his face.

Apparently deciding that deciphering the details of the current situation was a waste of time, Clank entered the room. "I have been studying the notes you have provided me, Ophelia," he began, "and you will no doubt be happy to hear that the research behind the scientists' hypothesis is indeed sound."

Ophelia clapped her hands together as she followed the robot back into the room. "Oh, wonderful!"

Ratchet turned back to the holoscreen, just about to stop the movie when the post-credits scene began playing. He opted for the mute button instead. Apparently the librarian had survived her heart attack, after all, and was still on the prowl, her goal of eliminating all those who spoke too loudly in libraries not yet met. Man, the people who made this movie really thought it warranted a Quiet in the Library 2, didn't they?

Ratchet inwardly shrugged. Eh. He wouldn't mind seeing it.

Clank stopped in front of the couch just as the Lombax was turning the movie off, but not before the obligatory "The End?" appeared on screen.

"Well, I'd like to hear what you've found out, Clank. Ophelia's not crazy, after all, then?" He winced when an empty soda can was hurled at his head.

"Not at all," was the robot's response. Ratchet couldn't blame his friend for taking the question seriously. Ophelia was a weird one, all right. "The research notes went into great detail into how the Four Horsemen might have survived its descent into the black hole, but I will try to get straight to the point. This…magnetic anomaly, as Ophelia described it, appears to be far more complex than that. What exactly it is, I do not yet know. But the scientists devoted many decades, perhaps even centuries, to studying it. Without a firm grasp as to what this object is, I cannot say for certain whether or not it could have survived the immense gravitational forces present within a black hole on its merits alone. But I did learn of a radio frequency that is specific to the Four Horsemen. Upon visiting the Phoenix's bridge, I discovered that this very same radio frequency is indeed emitting from within the black hole. In short, the Four Horsemen does appear to still exist, quite possibly within a…bubble of sorts outside of our own dimension."

By now, Ophelia had settled back onto the couch beside Ratchet and was picking a few pieces of popcorn out of her puff of hair. "I told you guys I was right."

"Even so," Clank went on, "attempting to travel through a black hole is incredibly dangerous and would subject the traveler to a massive amount of gravitational force. If this is truly what your friends intends to do, he is going to have a very difficult time of it."

"I know. But he planned on using Nefarious to help him. What if Petaer breaks him out of jail?" She looked about the room, a frown pulling down at her lips when she noticed Qwark was occupied more with scrolling through the available selection of movies than the discussion at hand. "We may have slowed him down, but I don't think we've stopped him. His goal isn't impossible, right?"

Clank shook his head. "No, not impossible, just improbable. And I agree, if he were to release Dr. Nefarious from prison, then the odds of his success are admittedly much higher. By the way, Ophelia, before I forget, there was a signal transmitting from the bridge. Was it yours?"

"Oh, right, I forgot to tell you guys earlier," Ophelia sat up straighter, "I'm sending out a radio message on a loop. It's for Petaer, to see if, you know, he wants to be civil and talk this out. If anyone can change his mind, it would probably be me. I hope. But, if it turns out he doesn't want to talk, I've been thinking, and I have a plan."

Ratchet's ears twitched. "What sort of plan?" He elbowed Qwark in the side when the superhero continued to ignore the conversation. He hoped the pained yelp he received in response meant the man was listening. If not, he couldn't say the jab was wasted effort.

She turned to face Ratchet more fully and folded her legs beneath her. "Well, since Petaer's pretty much impossible to find, it's gonna be pretty hard to stop him directly. So I was thinking that we needed to…go to the source, if you know what I mean."

The Lombax tilted his head, eyes glancing over at Clank, whose attention was also focused on the Virditian. "I'm not sure I follow."

"You see, all it feels like we've been doing is running around in circles, so we need to try to get one step ahead of him. To do that, we need to go inside the black hole and destroy that thing he's after." She turned back towards Clank, a stray piece of popcorn falling from her hair. "That makes sense, right?"

Clank was silent for a moment as he thought this over. "Your logic is sound. But that does not mean your plan will be any easier for us than it will be for your friend. Fortunately, if Petaer does still require assistance from Dr. Nefarious, provided he does not figure out another method for achieving his goal, we may have a head start." With that, the robot's green optics focused next on his friend. "Ratchet, are you up for the task?"

Not expecting the conversation to directly involve him, Ratchet jolted to attention. "What? Me, why?"

"Lombaxes are among the greatest inventors in the galaxy. If anyone can do it, it would be you."

At the robot's reassuring smile, all Ratchet could do in return was shrug. He was just a mechanic, not an inventor. But before he could question his friend's faith in his abilities any further, the superhero spoke up for the first time since Clank's arrival.

"Don't worry, Ratchet. You'll do great," Qwark said, still in the middle of placing every one of his own movies into a Watch List for later.

"What was the plan, Qwark? Do you even remember?"

"Oh, yeah, right…" the man shrugged, his words trailing off into distracted mumbles, "you're gonna…fly into a black hole. And go get some…wild horses…or something…"

Eyeing the superhero with barely hidden disdain, Ratchet turned back to Clank as the little robot spoke up once more. "You have…all been very helpful. Now, if you would not mind, I would like-"

"Four horses!"

The entire group turned in unison to stare at Qwark after his sudden outburst. Though the man wore a confident smile across his face at his newest epiphany, it was short-lived when he caught sight of the stares directed his way. He coughed. "Four horses." He held up three fingers. "Four of 'em…"

"As I was saying," Clank went on, "I would like to speak with Ratchet alone, so if the two of you could leave for the time being, it would be very much appreciated."

Ophelia sat up straighter. "Huh? Me, too? All right." She stood up, directing a brief wave at the group before heading for the door. "I look forward to hearing more good news from you guys later."

Qwark was quick to follow her out of the room, the awkwardness of his earlier outburst still very much present at his heels. "Well, I have a date with danger to get back to."

Once the door had slid closed behind their allies, Clank wasted no time. "I have been studying the data we retrieved on Zeta-13, and I believe I have discovered several interesting pieces of knowledge. Of course, my research is far from complete, and I will have to evaluate my remaining records to form any solid conclusions."

Ratchet leaned forward, elbows propped in his lap, the full extent of his attention focused on his friend's words. "All right. What've you got for me?"

"First of all," Clank climbed into the nearby armchair, "I was successful in finding a good deal of information on Ophelia's ancestors, the N'Deans. It appears they were the center of power for their star system, as Marcadia and Igliak are to Solana and Polaris. Even the people of Zeta-13 seemed to hold them in high regard. They were praised for maintaining peace in their system for nearly 1000 years. During this time, there was no war, no conflict, and minimal poverty."

Ratchet whistled. "Yeah, Ophelia told me as much back on Virditia. Sounds pretty hard to believe, though."

Clank scratched his chin. "Now, there are certain details that I find suspect, and I am curious if your thoughts coincide with mine. The N'Deans were essentially the ambassadors for peace in their galaxy. At one time or another, they visited every planet in the sector, all for the purposes of fixing their respective problems. Improving poverty levels, removing corrupt leaders, even ending famines."

The Lombax sat up straighter. "How would someone go about ending a famine?"

The little robot shook his head. "I do not know. Even machinery that can duplicate certain weather phenomenon cannot end a large scale drought."

"And," Ratchet went on, "from what I've seen, most planets who think it's their business to fix everyone's problems are in it for themselves more than anything."

Clank nodded. "My thoughts exactly. It seems all the more likely that their intentions were not entirely selfless, as even once the populace's problems were solved, a large number of N'Deans remained on the planet they had come to help. It is not like a peaceful race to intervene in the affairs of other planets, especially in so permanent a fashion. Furthermore, every planet I read about had N'Deans involved in their upper levels of government, in 100% of the cases.

"Another problem the N'Deans sought to solve was a plague involving the Mortesanguem Virus. It was once more prevalent, but now it is very rare for any cases to be reported, except in the most primitive of planets. At this time in history, however, the virus had affected nearly every planet in that sector, except for the mother planet of N'De. The N'Deans were said to be the only ones with the cure, of which they shared with no one, though they were able to heal most people infected with the disease. Except, from time to time, thousands to millions of citizens would perish overnight. They claimed they were too slow to stop the outbreak, and no investigation was ever done because the cities that were stricken were put under a permanent quarantine."

Ratchet blinked several times, his lips moving as he thought over the large amount of information the robot had just given him. "So…what's all this mean?"

"You see, what concerns me the most about this is, of the rare cases in which anyone has suffered from this virus, it never comes on, and kills the victim, overnight, let alone millions of people in so short a span. It is highly contagious, yes, but if left untreated, it would still take at least a week to spread to every member of a heavily populated city. And unless they knew something back then that we do not, there is still no cure."

"You think it wasn't a virus that killed all those people, then?"

Clank nodded. "Precisely."

"Then…hey, but what does any of this have to do with that…Four Horsemen thing?"

"I am not certain, but I have reason to believe there may be a connection. Only further research will confirm my theory, but I did once catch mention of a mysterious, unnamed machine the N'Deans possessed. It was said to be very powerful, but they claimed it had never been put to use, as its mere presence alone was enough to maintain peace and prevent anyone from ever going to war with them."

"And do you think that's the Four Horsemen?"

"I do not know. Ophelia said that it was a magnetic anomaly. While this device sounds entirely different, there is enough of a similarity that I have to wonder if they are one and the same. And if I am correct, Ophelia is sorely mistaken as to the Four Horsemen's identity."

"It certainly sounds pretty suspicious. Maybe that machine is behind all those deaths?"

"Perhaps. I do not want to jump to any conclusions quite yet, but that is what I fear may be the case. I still have more records to decipher. Maybe they will provide us with more clues. And Ratchet…"

Ratchet could manage no more than a quiet hum in response. He certainly had a lot to ponder over.

"Please do not tell Ophelia what I have discovered. She believes so strongly that her ancestors were peaceful, I worry she may be heartbroken if she were to discover the truth. Either way, she is correct that the Four Horsemen is a threat worth eliminating. The details do not matter."

"Yeah, I won't tell her."

"I will get back with you once I learn more. And…" the robot paused, "I do hope I did not put you on the spot earlier. You have the most mechanical aptitude out of anyone else in the group, and-"

"It's fine, Clank. I'm…I'm sure I can figure something out." He shrugged. "I mean, I'll probably need your help once, you know, you're less busy."

"Of course, Ratchet. I am always happy to be of assistance. Now, it is probably time you got some rest. Most organics require eight hours of sleep a night, and you are already an hour and a half behind schedule."

Ratchet laughed. "All right, mom!" When the robot tilted his head at him, the Lombax stood, stretching his arms skyward with a yawn. "Good night, Clank. See you in the morning."

"Good night, Ratchet. Sleep well."

He watched his friend exit the room, leaving the crew's quarters silent and empty aside from the lone Lombax standing at its center, a look of utmost contemplation melting over his features. Clank was probably right. He had a long day ahead of him, and he needed his rest. But surviving a trip inside a black hole? He was a mechanic, not a physicist.

His contemplation was interrupted by the sound of the door sliding open once more. Looking over, his gaze landed on the face of a thin and pimpled Rilgarian teen staring at him with several sufficiently flat boxes in his arms.

"Uh, you…" he attempted to work around his braces, "you guys ordered pizza?"

When Ratchet woke up the next morning, not even Qwark's snoring could get him out of bed. Rather, he remained staring at the bottom of the superhero's bunk for some time, mind abuzz with the same things that had originally delayed sleep nearly eight hours prior. This was not the first time he had trouble getting up, and it would certainly not be his last.

Clank had a point. Sort of. Lombaxes were master inventors. But he was just a mere mechanic. He hadn't even grown up with his kind…as such, sometimes he didn't really feel like much of a Lombax.

But something needed to be done, and he supposed he was the only suitable candidate for the job. Again, sort of. Rather than continue to dwell on the daunting task ahead of him, his thoughts settled instead on one more memory from last night. He probably should have warned the pizza delivery guy about the black hole.

An hour later, and he had still not progressed beyond breakfast. The window in the Phoenix's kitchen encompassed the entire back wall of the room, and situated against it was a table and two benches. There wasn't much eating space, but on a ship whose crew was typically comprised mainly of robots, there was little need for much else.

He sat with his back to the reinforced glass, the thin layer of clear material the only thing between him and the deadly vacuum residing just on the other side. A bowl of cereal was set on the table before him, the kind that was more like cardboard than actual food. He couldn't stand the sight that lay beyond, nothing but blackness where there should have been stars. It was the most lonesome sight anyone could imagine, especially when he knew the black hole responsible for such oblivion was out there.

The Lombax continued to spoon the occasional helping of wet, spongy cereal into his mouth with little notice that he was doing so. It was only a soft thump and the clinking of metal that pulled him from his reverie and drew his attention to the bench across from him.

"Oh. Hey, Ophelia."

The Viridtian provided only a nod in response, her focus instead on swirling her bowl of cereal about with her spoon. "There used to be sugary cereal in here."

"Yep."

"With those weird, hard marshmallows…"

He nodded.

"I guess Qwark ate them all."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"And we're just gonna stand for that?"

He glanced upwards, spoon still in his mouth, and raised his eyebrows. "Hmm?"

Grinning, she shrugged one shoulder. "Qwark ate all the good cereal. I think this calls for revenge." When he failed to respond, she leaned in closer, arms crossed before her on the table. "I guess it's too early to carry on a conversation. Am I right, sleepyhead?"

Ratchet chuckled. "Yeah. I've never been a big morning person."

"It's fine." She used the spoon to point between their bowls. "I guess this stuff's not gonna eat itself."

True to his earlier comment, Ratchet merely wobbled his head in the most noncommittal manner a sleepy Lombax like himself could muster. He wished someone else could eat this cereal on his behalf. The longer it soaked in milk, the more like paste it became.

Ratchet kicked his feet, the chewing of mushy cereal and the clink of their spoons the only sound in the otherwise silent room. He supposed a little effort wouldn't kill him. Forcing down the last spoonful of cardboard mush, he looked up again at last.

"Uh, Ophelia, about your friend…"

"Yeah?"

"I-I was just wondering, was he always…"

She released a gentle laugh. "Do you mean, was he always bad? No, no he wasn't." Placing the spoon into her bowl, she pushed it aside, half the contents still untouched. It must have been really bad if Ophelia, new self-professed lover of greasy fast food, couldn't even stand it. "I think I've already told you, but…Petaer and I, we grew up together. We were as close as brother and sister, actually. Closer. When his mother died, I shared mine. When my older sister died, he shared his younger. And so on…"

Ratchet looked away, remaining silent as the woman's description of her past, though brief, caused an icy lump to settle in the pit of his stomach. He was never very good with this sort of thing. Honestly, he wasn't sure if anyone was. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything.

On second thought, maybe the lump was just the cereal.

"It's okay, Ratchet."

He looked up, just now realizing how much time he had allowed to pass since she had spoken. "Oh, sorry. I-I mean, that must have been-"

"It's okay," she repeated, a half-felt grin adorning her face. "Too much information, huh? Yeah, what happened…it hurts. It still hurts a lot sometimes. But it's in the past." She tilted her head. "Losing one's family sucks, huh?"

One corner of his mouth rose into an understanding grin to mimic her own, just as lukewarm, just as bitter. "Yeah, it does." He shrugged and added, "Life just kinda sucks."

Ophelia laughed, the sound a lot more genuine than her smile had been moments before. "You got that right!" Even so, as soon as it had begun, it stopped, and she sniffed. "I miss Petaer, too."

"Hmm…"

"I-I mean, he…he and I were once such good friends." She looked down, brushing her puff of bright red hair away from her face, only to allow it to fall in front of her once again. "I wish he would just…contact me. I just…want to talk to him again. I want to tell him I'm sorry…" By now, her voice had dropped so low that Ratchet could barely pick up her words. She sniffed again. "That I'm sorry about…getting angry at him."

"He wants to destroy all robots in the galaxy, Ophelia. Why should you be sorry?"

"I just…didn't need to get so upset with him. That's…" she paused, drawing in a deep, shaky breath, "that's when we parted ways," she finished in a whisper.

For the second time that morning, the Lombax remained at a loss for words. He stood, bowl in hand, grabbing hers as he went by almost as an afterthought on the way to the sink.

"There's something I wanted to talk with you about," Ophelia began.

He looked back just in time to catch her moving to join him in his corner of the kitchen. "Yeah, what is it?"

"I'm actually…asking you a favor, Ratchet, and it's one you should understand, so just listen."

He placed the bowls into the sink and turned around. "I'm listening."

"I was thinking…if the black hole really leads to another dimension…I was wondering if there was some way my ancestors might still be in there. You've got to help me, Ratchet." She clasped her hands together. "I've dreamt my whole life that I might meet them one day. My family's all gone, and I just want to see if the legends about N'De are true. If we're able to find a way into the black hole…maybe we can save them. It'll be…like a rescue mission." Though a shine of tears still tracked down her cheeks, her face was alight with a renewed hope that made him once more avert his gaze.

"I, uh…" he paused, internally choosing his next words with more care. Finding none, he settled for a delaying tactic instead. "You really believe they're still out there, don't you?"

"Of course, I do. You of all people should understand the…the desperation to be reunited with your people. I mean, these aren't really my people, just our distant ancestors, but…" she shrugged, "I guess this is the closest I'm going to get. The Virditians are a dying people. There's…there's no hope for them."

"Why don't they just leave?" he asked, reprimanding himself a moment later for his lack of tact.

She laughed harder at this than it seemed she had any right to. "Just leave. It sounds so easy, huh? My people, they're so stubborn. They think everything that's happened…it's some sort of punishment for their crimes. It's…it's ridiculous!" Pausing, she wiped a hand across her face. "Some people can be so…so stupid. So…will you do it? Help me save my people, I mean?"

"If…they're still in there, then sure. What other choice do we have? If we can really find a way inside the black hole, then I don't see why a rescue mission should be a problem."

"Oh, thank you!"

His body tensed as she lunged forward to engulf him in a tight embrace that squeezed the breath from him.

"You're…welcome," he said through gasps.

Though he struggled to free himself, her grip on him only tightened further, and he felt her press a kiss to his cheek.

"I'm glad I met you, Ratchet."

His encounter with Ophelia ended as abruptly as it had begun, the Virditian rushing out afterward with some barely thought-out excuse, something about forgetting to vacuum the laundry and put the floors in the washing machine. No one had to do any chores around here. There were maintenance bots for that sort of thing. Provided Qwark hadn't wiped them all out with his careless button-pressing yet.

It had taken him several moments to recover, the Lombax rooted to the spot, mind numb, as he processed what had just happened. She was just excited, right? That had just been a friendly peck on the cheek. Right? Did girls do stuff like that?

Talwyn had never kissed him.

Sasha had, though.

He'd better not think too much into it.

Now that his procrastination had gone on for long enough, and there were certain things he'd just as soon forget, Ratchet entered the lab, where he found Clank busily tapping away at the computer keyboard with both index fingers.

"Clank," Ratchet raised one hand in greeting. "I see you're still studying those records, huh? Find out anything new?"

"Good morning, Ratchet," Clank said. "I have indeed uncovered additional information that you might find interesting."

There was a peculiar sort of seriousness in the robot's demeanor that woke Ratchet from his earlier stupor and forced him to focus. He sat down at the computer terminal closest to his friend, arm resting on the desk beside him. "Yeah, Clank, what is it?"

"You remember the plague I told you about, correct?"

Ratchet nodded.

"Well, as I mentioned before, while some cities were cured, others lost their entire population in a matter of hours. I did not believe even the Mortesanguem Virus could kill so many in so short a time span, but what caught my attention most of all was the correlation I found between the people who lived and those who did not. Planets whose populations dropped by millions in a single day also had cause to dislike the N'Deans. More often than not, these were planets that suffered the most interference from N'Dean influence, or were comprised of races whom, based on the traits of their modern day descendants, don't take kindly to the ideals of outsiders."

Ratchet's head bobbed. "Right. I'm…I'm feeling kind of tired right now, Clank. Could you tell me what you think this means?"

"Based on this new information, I have more reason than ever to doubt it was an illness that killed those people. Rather, I believe this so-called 'peace machine' is behind this." Clank closed his optics, rubbing them as if he, too, was suffering from some sort of weariness. "And if I am correct, I fear the consequences of allowing the Four Horsemen to fall into the wrong hands to be even more dangerous than our efforts to reach it."

"I'll see what I can figure out, Clank. Still, I'm not all that convinced that we really have anything to worry about. I mean, I'd say this thing is locked away in a pretty safe place, if you ask me."

Clank was silent for a moment. "I suppose you have a point," was all he ended up saying, though the little robot's mouth remained open for a second longer even once the final syllable had been uttered. With a shake of his head, he seemed to think better of it and returned to tapping away at the keyboard, the steady rhythm of earlier replaced by a dissonant pressing of keys that spoke of a mind focused elsewhere.

Ratchet booted up the computer to begin some research of his own, glancing over when Clank failed to speak further. He clicked on the first icon he saw on the desktop, a folder that contained a database of the lab's many log entries, data files, you name it. They were the same files he had perused yesterday out of boredom. This time, he had a purpose for his previously aimless clicking.

"Ophelia brought something up this morning. She still believes that her ancestors are alive inside that black hole. That's not possible, right?"

"The chances of their survival are non-existent." Clank didn't even bother to look over. "The device is one thing, but organic beings is another."

Ratchet sighed. "That's what I thought."

Silence resumed, and the pair continued to tackle their own separate work. Ratchet skimmed over file after file, searching for relevant keywords, scanning the results, and ultimately coming up empty. He supposed the need to survive a trip inside a black hole had just never come up before. Go figure. An hour passed, maybe more, when his concentration was broken by his friend's voice, so soft, he wasn't certain at first that he hadn't merely imagined it.

"Ratchet… I have been thinking."

"Hmm? What is it, pal?" When there was no answer, Ratchet looked over. "Clank?"

Clank was staring at the floor, at the tiny feet of his that dangled a foot off the ground. His mouth opened and closed several times. Eventually, the robot looked over. "Ratchet, I am uncertain you fully understand how serious this situation is."

"I get it, Clank. That Four Horsemen thing is dangerous. I know that. What do you think I've been doing this whole time?"

Clank said nothing at first. "We need to be ready to do whatever it takes to prevent Petaer from retrieving it. Even if he fails, another villain may come along who does not. One who is more resourceful. More intelligent."

"I know, Clank. I'm not sure what else you want me to say. I need to concentrate."

And yet, he found himself unable to look away. There was a fear in the normally stoic robot's eyes that drew Ratchet's focus to him like a magnet attracting iron. What exactly it was that was bothering him so, he couldn't quite say.

"I…I just want you to understand one thing, Ratchet. Whatever happens, do not forget…we will never be safe while that machine exists."

But if Clank was worried, they all should be.

Clank left the room once their conversation had ended, his last words ringing through Ratchet's subconscious on an endless loop. The Lombax spent the next uncounted hours poring over the lab database. While nothing quite piqued his fancy, he did skim over a number of articles and patents with a dizzying amount of scientific jargon all written by the same Dr. Valence from before. The fact that he understood less than a percent of it only drove the point home that he had gotten in over his head.

Nevertheless, he continued his tireless research through the night until he fell asleep on the keyboard, awaking the very next morning with a cramp in his neck.

This went on for several days, the Lombax studying the laboratory records, a growing rivalry budding between him and this Dr. Valence. If only that guy was here, maybe they'd have figured something out by now. Be that as it may, the Doctor was not here, and it was up to Ratchet, as the one with the most technical aptitude, to figure something out.

He started a few projects, only to discard them when it became clear they weren't getting him anywhere. He knew plenty about building things. Lombaxes were famous across the galaxy for their ingenuity and mechanical prowess. He could build a working ship from scrap, and he once even cobbled together a hoverbike using the wires and bits of material from their previous holoscreen after it had died and a few choice parts from their dishwasher. (Admittedly, Clank had been less than pleased when he found out.) Sure, it had crashed after his third use of it, but if he could have just made one tiny adjustment… Well, in the end, his friend wouldn't allow it. But he could have fixed it.

Nevertheless, this was different. This was surviving a trip inside a black hole. This was counteracting a force that could strip molecules. The ship would need to be equipped with a booster strong enough to allow for piloting into, and more importantly, out of, a black hole. If this went wrong, they couldn't simply walk away with nothing but a bruised elbow and a twisted ankle. There was no room for adjustments after the fact.

He had never done something like this before. And frankly, he wasn't certain he could.

It was on the evening of the fourth day that Ratchet trudged, exhausted, to the crew's quarters to relax and take his mind off of his most recent failed prototype. He knew something was up the moment he was greeted by the ominous silencing of Ophelia, Captain Qwark, and even Clank as soon as he entered the room. At his approach, the trio turned to eye him with an awkward sort of shame now that their discussion had been cut short, like a kid caught red-handed by their parents.

Ratchet's tail began flicking this way and that of its own accord. "Hey," was the first thing that came to mind. Casual though it was, he did not receive a response right away.

As if jolted awake by a sudden spark, Ophelia's face split into a smile and she waved at the approaching Lombax. "Oh, Ratchet, I'm glad you're here. We were just talking, and…"

Ratchet stopped nearby, but did not sit down. "Yeah?"

The Virditian looked between the group, but no one managed to maintain eye contact with her or the Lombax. "We were thinking about this Four Horsemen thingy, and…well, it seems like everyone's come to an agreement that it must be destroyed. The only thing we haven't figured out yet is…how to reach it." By now, her smile had faded away, and she didn't even bother trying to bring it back. "Ratchet, how's your work been coming along?"

His tail flicking more ferociously than ever, he suppressed a sigh. He had gotten absolutely nowhere. Zilch. Nada. His hand rose to scratch at the back of his head. "I'm…I'm still working on it. I just…" His arm dropped back down to his side. "I've got nothing. I-I know nothing about this kind of thing, and…" He trailed off. What else was there to say? He wasn't quite certain Ophelia's question even required a response.

"Well, that's…kind of what we were taking about." Sucking in a breath, Ophelia squared her shoulders, for once looking him directly in the eye. "We need Dr. Nefarious' help. None of us have the knowledge required-"

Ratchet's heartbeat spiked at these words. "W-wait a minute! Ophelia, I've told you once, and I'll tell you again, we do not need Nefarious! This…this is….I kicked you off the team for pulling a stunt like this, and you seriously want to bring this up again?" Turning to the other members of the group, he held out an arm, as if imploring them to see reason. "Are you guys hearing this?"

Barely giving the others a chance to speak, Ratchet turned back to the Virditian, his tail whipping furiously. "I don't know what's the deal with your obsession with Nefarious, Ophelia, but-"

"It…was actually my idea."

The Lombax's tirade was cut short when a soft voice interrupted him. He looked over to find Clank staring up at him. "Wh-what?"

The little robot struggled to maintain eye contact. "I would not suggest such a thing if there was any other option. I believe Dr. Nefarious is the only person who can help us reach this device. I realize the perils of releasing a dangerous criminal from prison, but I have weighed every option, and I fear, at least in the short term, that more lives could be lost if we do not."

Ratchet had to force his fists to unclench. "I thought you said you didn't even know what it did."

"That is correct, but please listen to me. I also believe having Dr. Nefarious on our team is the only way to ensure that he does not fall into Petaer's clutches again. Believe me when I say I would not have made this decision unless I deemed it to be entirely vital to the completion of our mission."

Ratchet laughed. "Our mission? Well, seeing as you didn't feel the need to run this by me before you made any decisions, I guess I have to assume I'm not a part of this mission, am I?"

There was a silence, the little robot tapping the ends of his fingers together. "I…" He dropped his head. "I already knew what you would say."

Ratchet nodded. "So you thought you'd go behind my back, then? I thought we were a team, Clank. I thought we made decisions together." His gaze swept across the group, everyone drawing back as his attention fell on them one by one. When he spoke again, his voice was flat. "So it's unanimous then? Is that what I'm supposed to believe?"

No one said anything, but that was answer enough.

"Fine, if that's how it is, I guess I've got no choice." Ratchet turned and headed for the door, pausing just once to add, "Just know I won't be happy about it."

Uh-oh, Ratchet's ticked! Hope this wasn't too hurried. As I mentioned earlier, I'm really trying to just get this story moving, and this chapter is largely one of those transition chapters before we get to some more action.

As usual, please review, dear squishies!