What's this, another chapter? I've finally found the motivation to work on this story again, and let me tell you, it's so nice finally moving things along!
It's time for our heroes to visit Zordoom Prison. You may notice that I have changed some details regarding the prison's history and stuff. Why? Because I wanted to!
Chapter 25: We're Bustin' Outta This Joint, See?
Two hundred feet below their current position sat squatly like an artificial mountain an imposing shape that may have been familiar, but was far from comforting. Zordoom Prison was so massive in scale, it felt more like an extension of the mountainous landscape than an artificial structure, its form jutting high above the ocean into which it was anchored. The transport they had taken from the Phoenix was newly painted to obscure any distinguishing characteristics that might allow someone to trace it back to the place where it hailed. For all anyone else knew, they were simply another patrolling police cruiser on its usual rounds.
The fact that Zordoom Prison was back under galactic control did little to ease its reputation as one of the most dismal places in the galaxy. It was not Tachyon and his short-lived Empire that had made it that way. Rather, it was as if infamy had been an intentional part of its design in a manner no different from any blast-proof door or quadruple-paned and rocket-resistant window.
It was exactly the sort of place where monsters like Nefarious belonged. How Ratchet had gotten wrangled into a plan of such illegal connotations, he had no idea. But it all smelled wrong when the ones who ran the place they intended to trespass were their allies rather than their enemies.
"And here is the location of the maximum security wing," Clank went on as he pointed to a particular spot on the screen, his increased height due to the fact that he was standing in the copilot seat. Being shared by both the Solana and Polaris Galaxies, with the Galactic Rangers serving as the police force on behalf of them both, Clank had experienced no trouble downloading the prison's schematics from the Phoenix's database. "Even though the schematics may be outdated, it seems unlikely the facility's main layout has changed too significantly in the past five years. We have every reason to believe that this is the spot where Dr. Nefarious is being held, and as such, I fear that it will be a much more difficult operation than our rescue of Talwyn."
"This isn't a rescue." Ratchet's arms were crossed, the fingers of one hand digging into his sleeve in a curious twitch. Wherever it was that he was going with that statement, he didn't bother finishing it. Everyone in the cockpit was aware of his stand on the matter. The time for protest was long since behind him. But he still had some questions that needed to be voiced. "How do we know Nefarious is going to be willing to cooperate?"
The robot's large, green optics lifted from the monitor in front of him. His mouth opened, though it seemed to take visible effort to force any words out. All he could manage was the same tired excuse the Lombax had already heard several times prior. "Dr. Nefarious is the only person who can help us-"
"Yeah, I've already heard that one. It doesn't change the fact that Nefarious is far more likely to want to kill us than to become our allies."
Clank frowned, his eyelids lowering in what would be a sure sign of weariness in any organic. "Every part of my plan has been accounted for…except for Dr. Nefarious' cooperation. No," he shook his head, "I cannot guarantee that he will be willing to lend us a hand. We will not know until we reach him."
"It'll be fine, Ratchet!" Ophelia attempted to squeeze his shoulder, but he shrugged out of her grip. "Nefarious has as much motivation to stop Petaer as we do. What we're doing…" with a heave, she pulled her arm though the other shoulder strap of her parachute, "it's for the greater good. Right?"
Captain Qwark sat up straighter in the pilot seat. "Right! The old 'the end justify the means' bit. If you want something, you gotta take it. Like candy from a baby. That baby doesn't need candy anyway."
Ratchet sniffed, but refrained from making any further comment on the matter.
"Are you absolutely certain you are okay with this, Ratchet?" Clank attempted to catch his friend's gaze, only to drop his focus to a spot on the floor between them. "Once we begin the operation, there will be no turning back."
The Lombax looked away. "I think I've already made my thoughts clear on the matter." They had worked with Nefarious before back on Magnus, and though everything had technically worked out in the end, that didn't mean the whole experience was without its fair share of…incidents, either. The psycho had almost managed to shoot him several times. Oh, but it had all been an accident. A…twitchy trigger finger, if he recalled the villain's excuse correctly. It would have only been marginally more convincing had he not used finger quotes.
And let's not forget the time Nefarious had somehow managed to light the Lombax's tail on fire. Then there was that one night when they were camping in the Deadgrove, and Ratchet had woken up sometime around midnight to catch two glowing red eyes glaring at him from across their makeshift camp. He had apparently forgotten how many other glowing lights he had on his countenance to give himself away. Naturally, the supervillain had denied the whole thing the very next morning, but it was definitely him all right.
"The sooner we get this over with, the better. You good up here, Qwark?"
"I mean, why would you even give a baby candy anyway? It'll get cavities. Is that how they want the little tyke's life to start out? In misery. What kind of sick galaxy do we live in that parents are willing to doom their children to the dentist's drill?"
"Are you ready or not?"
Qwark rolled his eyes. "Ready for what? You guys didn't give me any of the juicy parts. All I get to do is fly the ship. I'm a hero, Ratchet, not a cab driver."
"Then fly heroically."
The Captain scowled at him. "It's good to see you're taking my pain seriously."
Ratchet pulled Clank onto his back as he headed for the exit hatch. As Ophelia took up her place at his side, a quick glance over told him that she was visibly shaking. Under her breath, he could just catch her muttering, "Just…push the button. That's all. Before you hit the ground, preferably." A nervous laugh escaped her that she hardly seemed to be aware of.
Ratchet eyed his quivering comrade. "You okay, Ophelia?"
She responded with a thumbs up and a forced smile that conveyed anything but.
"I'll tell you when to activate your parachute." Looking back over his shoulder, Ratchet continued, "Qwark, can you get us in position? The guards are bound to get suspicious if we keep hovering up here for much longer."
Qwark faced forward in his seat and proceeded to make a grand display of indignant huffing and puffing as he steered the ship to their drop point. Ratchet pushed a button beside the exit, and the hatch slid open with a sudden rush of wind that stole the breath from him. Stepping towards the edge, he leaned over the side to better peer down at the churning waves far, far beneath them. Directly below, moving parallel to them, was the rail that transported the mobile cells from place to place. They just had to land on one. Yeah, just. Simple.
"Just follow my lead!" Ratchet sucked in a breath of air and leaped from the ship, Ophelia following suit moments later with a shriek.
Ratchet spread his arms out from his sides and positioned his body horizontally. Air rushed past his ears with a deafening roar, his teeth bared, if only thanks to the wind blowing one cheek back. This used to be fun, once he got used to the feeling of his stomach dropping out from underneath him. Now it was just another part of the job.
He forced his body to lean towards the right, his eyes locked onto one cell in particular. "Clank, Ophelia, now!"
Clank activated his helipack without a moment's hesitation. Their descent slowed in a sudden jerk, Ratchet's stomach jumping into his throat as the cell lined up beneath them. He landed on all fours to better soften the thump of their impact and immediately hunkered down to appear as small as possible.
A second later, Ophelia banged into the cell's roof several feet from his position, scrambling madly against the smooth metal surface as she began to slip over the edge. Launching himself forward without thinking, Ratchet grabbed her by the wrist just as her dangling parachute caught in the wind, tearing her already perilous grip free entirely. Producing a knife from beneath her layers and layers of clothing, she cut the parachute loose with her free hand as Ratchet pulled her to safety.
"That was a close one! You okay?"
It took her several moments to answer beyond a frantic nod. "Fine, fine! I hate heights, Ratchet! They really freak me out!" With another shaky laugh, she brushed her crimson hair from her face. "Thanks, though! I didn't really feel like taking a swim today, you know."
Ratchet grinned. "Don't worry about it. Team members look out for each other."
She smiled back, this time in a manner far more genuine, and proceeded to hold on for dear life.
He gripped a groove in the cell's metal surface to better maintain his own balance against the swinging and jerking the object made beneath them, Ophelia still panting in barely suppressed panic to his right. He watched the sky go by, the same bleak orange he had encountered on their first visit here and ducked his head whenever a prison security cruiser soared by, most slow and searching. At one point, a trio screamed by with sirens blaring.
What were they doing back here? This was insane!
A dark wall began to encroach in his field of vision and what little light had existed before dimmed further as the prison's shadow fell over them. When he faced forward, he could see that they had just entered a massive trench, with nothing but an endless sea of cells covering the walls on either side of them. There sure were a lot of criminals out there. And these weren't even the worst.
Clank tapped him on the shoulder, Ratchet nudging Ophelia's arm in turn as his eyes were drawn upwards to an approaching break in the ocean of cells. According to Clank's plan, their point of entry was the cable station for the mobile prison cells.
Pushing himself to his knees, he slid over to one of two supports holding the cell aloft. Eyeing Ophelia, he received an understanding nod in response and began to climb. Even obeying the old adage "don't look down" wasn't enough to quell the rising queasiness in his throat whenever the cell swayed beneath him, paired with the knowledge that a fall of hundreds of feet awaited him if he slipped.
As usual, Clank's timing was perfect, allowing Ratchet just enough time to climb the support and leap onto the platform before the cable fed its way through a narrow channel that would have ground the Lombax's bones to dust had he been unfortunate enough to be caught in it. Dozens of additional thick cables were being fed through the floor and ceiling. The whole operation appeared to be controlled by a complicated panel of dials and buttons set in the corner. He supposed it all had to start somewhere.
Ophelia stumbled to his side moments later, and the trio entered the prison's underbelly the only way they could, via a concrete tunnel whose low ceiling was lined with a row of flickering lights and rusting, metal pipes. They didn't stop until the loud mechanical grinding of the cable feeding mechanism had been reduced to a dull hum in the distance.
"This entire section is the prison's basement and maintenance corridors. There is little security here, and it will allow you to bypass more of the heavily patrolled levels. It does not lead all the way to the maximum security wing, but it will bring you close." Clank dropped down from Ratchet's back and approached a narrow vent set high up in the wall. "This vent should take me to the master control room. If my timing is correct, I should be able to access the prison's central computer between shifts."
"I don't know, Clank. You've put on a few pounds since the last time you attempted something like this." It was a poor attempt at humor. The only response he received was a pained glance from Ophelia.
"Would you be so kind as to help me up?" the little robot asked and held up his arms. Polite to a fault, that didn't make his tone any less cold. They hadn't spoken beyond the bare minimum since the Lombax's outburst.
Ratchet lifted his friend into the vent, most of the robot disappearing from sight except for his legs and back end. He might as well try one more time. "You sure you won't get lost in there? You might never find your way out again."
Soon, even the robot's feet had vanished into the darkness. "I have the prison's schematics downloaded into my memory. I should have no trouble navigating the vent systems." His voice echoed back in a manner that only served to make his words sound even more hollow. There was a pause, followed by a soft, "Do be careful."
"Yeah, we will." These whispered words likely went unheard, the light shuffling from the vent soon drifting off into silence, signaling Clank's departure. With a sigh, Ratchet turned to his last remaining comrade. "Well, Ophelia, looks like it's just you and me."
"This sure is exciting!" She hefted her borrowed blaster in both hands. "I've never infiltrated an enemy stronghold before."
Ratchet snorted. "Enemy stronghold? You've been spending way too much time with Qwark."
"Well, any amount of time spent with Qwark is too much." She laughed. "Speaking of the big meathead, I'd feel better about all this if he wasn't the one giving us directions."
"I've already figured out an easy solution to that problem."
"Yeah, what?"
"We'll be completely fine," he brandished his Combustor, "just as long as we do the opposite of what he says."
The pair continued down the only path currently available to them. While their trek was largely in silence, faint noises would sometimes reach their location, distorted so from distance and echo that neither were certain as to its source. Both held their respective weapons at the ready, treading lightly for fear that some dastardly trap might be waiting for them. This was Zordoom, after all. He suspected even the employee locker rooms were guarded by lasers when no one was around.
Ratchet's tail flicked this way and that, and he nearly squeezed the trigger of his pistol when a spume of steam nearly shot him in the face from one of the nearby pipes. He swatted it away, his face hot and wet from the blast.
"Okay, so…are you the glowing blue dot or the green one?" came a voice through his earpiece.
"I already told you earlier, I'm the blue one."
"And I'm the purple one!" was Ophelia's own contribution.
"Why don't I get to be the green one? Clank always gets the good stuff."
Ratchet sighed. "Qwark, can you see our position?"
"Well, yeah…wait, no, I lost you. Nope, found you again. I have you in my sights, Cannon Fodder."
"Qwark, would you please not call me that? I thought we agreed we weren't going to use any code names?"
"Maybe you and Agent Blender did. Covert missions need super secret spy names. And you will address me as Thunder Pecs."
Ratchet shuddered at the prospect. "All we need are directions, Qwark, that's all."
Behind him, Ophelia asked, "Why's no one using my code name?"
"Oh, I haven't forgotten. I'm expecting great things from you, Warrior Goddess."
There was an audible squeal of delight from Ophelia.
The Lombax said nothing, merely rolling his eyes. This was not a situation where he could lose his focus. He tugged Ophelia to the side when a small maintenance drone appeared from a hallway to the right, its presence only noticeable due to the slight squeaking of its single wheel his keen ears had just managed to detect before it was too late. They remained pressed against the wall, willing themselves to blend into the shadows, until it had passed and was lost from sight around the next corner.
In all honesty, the drone would have likely served as only a minor threat before being eliminated. But they didn't need to attract any attention. The sound of gunfire could travel far in a place like this.
"Which way, Qwark?" Ratchet whispered, his heart still pounding from their near miss.
"Keep going straight, Cannon…eh, Ratchet."
The prison's underbelly was a perplexing labyrinth of tunnels, and even here was not without its security cameras. It hardly seemed necessary, considering any escaped prisoner who managed to wander in would have their work cut out for them finding their way out again. Of course, unless the guards themselves had a thorough understanding of the layout, it wouldn't be a terrible place to hide, either.
The Lombax and Virditian were led down one path after another, having no choice but to stop at every intersection to wait for the camera to look the other way. The handheld EMP gun they had acquired on Alepa still remained in his arsenal, but he had yet to build up the nerve to use it. They may have been simple, soulless security cameras, but to think that such weaponry had been used on robots, robots like Clank, because they had refused to be used like slaves any longer, it was out of the question to think that he could actually employ such a thing, for good or bad.
They turned left when directed, a light splashing indicating the floor had suddenly become a lot wetter than it was previously and the air taking on a humid chill that made Ratchet shiver. Pipes and valves lined the walls on all sides, many of them continuing upwards into the darkness that had opened up over their heads that could have gone dozens, or maybe even hundreds, of feet high.
Ratchet held out a hand just as a few drops splatted onto his glove.
"I think they've got a leak," Ophelia said, pausing to study her reflection in the puddle at her feet.
"Ya think? Looks like we're in some sort of pumping station. Better keep moving."
The splashing of water picked up as Ophelia quickened her pace to keep up with him. "You know, all this dripping gets me thinking…I sure hope I don't have to go to the bathroom while we're down here."
Before he could respond, a new voice chimed in over Ratchet's earpiece. "Captain Qwark, there is a question I have been meaning to ask you."
"Yeah, shoot," Qwark said in a bored monotone. If Ratchet had to guess, he would have to say the superhero was chewing gum.
"You and Dr. Nefarious used to be Galactic Rangers, correct?"
"Yeah, why?"
Ratchet arched his eyebrows. Why, indeed. Glancing over at Ophelia, she merely shrugged in reply, the conversation being received by her, as well.
"I have been wondering if you could tell me," the robot went on, "what kind of person was he back then?"
There was silence at first, aside from the telltale smacking of chewing gum. "I don't know. He was real uptight. Couldn't take a joke. He threw a hissy fit whenever I took something out of his office without asking-"
"No, I meant more along the lines of morality. The Galactic Rangers do not recruit anyone with a criminal background or any degree of mental instability, so I can only guess he must have been a very different person back then. Captain Qwark, can you at least tell me, did he seem…moral?"
"I really couldn't say. I barely knew the guy."
"But I thought the two of you worked together for several years."
"Clank, I'm sorry to interrupt," Ratchet said, "but how close are you to the control room?"
"Not far, Ratchet. I calculate only eighty meters remain. I will update you on my situation once I arrive."
Ratchet and Ophelia left the chilling humidity of the pumping station behind, though he found it difficult to restore his concentration when Qwark started to hum to himself on the other line, along with another noise that seemed oddly familiar, and exceedingly out of place.
"Qwark, are you cutting your nails?"
"No…"
"Thunder Pecs, our lives are in your hands!" Ophelia had placed her hands on her hips, even if the one she was addressing could not see her stance. Even so, it did a lot to make her tone that much more intimidating. And Ratchet wasn't even the one in trouble. "If you get us killed because you're not paying attention, my ghost is going to drag you down into the deepest depths of the afterlife, where I'll tickle your feet for all eternity. Do you hear me?"
There was stammering on the other end, during which Ratchet counted his blessings for all the times he had crossed Ophelia and lived to tell the tale.
Come to think of it, Warrior Goddess was a more suitable code name than the Lombax would have previously admitted.
The pair stopped at an intersection, and Ratchet chose to distract the superhero from the Virditian's threat, if only to quell the man's stammering. "Okay, which way now, Qwark?" A grin spread over his face. On second thought… "Just remember that I can be pretty vengeful myself."
When their guide failed to respond right away, Ophelia added, "We're the blue and purple dots, remember, Blunder Pecs?"
The pair sniggered, the man failing to correct Ophelia's butchering of his nickname. It was unlikely he hadn't noticed.
At long last, they received an answer. "It's…uh, left."
"You sure?" Ratchet asked.
"Yeah. Positive. Sure."
They gazed down either passage in turn, each looking even less inviting than the other. When their navigator failed to provide any corrections, they began to head down the hallway they were directed, Ratchet once more pausing to glance back the other way.
He drew in a sharp intake of breath when two doors slammed down on either side of them. Ratchet scrambled for the one blocking the way they had just come, feeling around for some way to release it, while Ophelia settled for karate kicking the other door, with no more success. A nervous laugh could be heard in Ratchet's headset.
"Oh, wait. Sorry about that. I meant right. Definitely right. I just got the map flipped upside down for a moment."
The Lombax snarled. "W-we're trapped! How do we get out?"
Behind him, Ophelia was panting like an enraged bull, her hands clenching into fists. "I'm gonna kill you, Qwark!"
"Password please."
Ratchet's head jerked back at the flat, robotic female voice that had just spoken and noticed a small keypad beside the opposite door. "Huh?"
"You are about to access a restricted area. Password please."
By now, Ophelia was ripping at her hair. "This is exactly what I was talking about! I'm gonna haunt so many people!"
There was silence, and a red light blinked in the keypad's upper right corner. "Password please."
The Virditian released a few choice profanities, all of which involved a certain member of their team. Whether or not she was attempting to guess the password seemed doubtful.
"Password please."
"Look, we don't have a password." Ratchet strode over to the keypad and leaned down to get a better look at it, as if he could discern some way of making the computerized voice understand him. "We just made a wrong turn. So, it would be very much appreciated if-"
"If you have forgotten your password-"
Ratchet groaned, and Ophelia shot the keypad.
"-then please provide your email address, and we will send you a link to reset it."
Ratchet directed a glare at the door barring their exit. Taking Ophelia's lead, he fired at the door several times, but the shots only left blackened scorch marks on its surface. Using the Negotiator in such an enclosed space hardly seemed a wise choice.
His earlier scowl went slack when a hissing noise came to life overhead. When he looked up, a pale, yellow gas was flowing from a small vent in the ceiling. "They're using poison gas!" He coughed and placed his O2 Mask over his mouth as the room began to fill with toxic gas.
"Hang in there, you two, I can fix this!" Qwark said, followed by the click of several buttons being pressed. "There, I've flipped the map upside down again! Now you're back in the right room!"
The poison stung his eyes, causing them to tear up. Just through the thickening haze, he caught sight of Ophelia's form, the Virditian hunched over with her hands pressed to her face. His heart dropped at his oversight, and he pulled off his respirator and held it out to her.
She shook her head, a hoarse cough racking her frame.
"Ophelia, just take it!"
When she continued to refuse his efforts, he forced the respirator onto her face. Ratchet fell to the floor where the gas had yet to reach and began bashing against the door with his wrench as the female voice picked up again in so careless a tone, it tripled the threat in her words. "It is not my fault if you chose a password you could not remember. Prepare to perish. Thank you for using our system."
Ratchet clamped his eyes shut, his eyes watering as he continued to assault the door, while Ophelia attempted to help by digging her fingers underneath the door in a futile attempt to pull it upwards. Dented though it had become, it remained as steadfast as ever.
By now, the cloud of poison had grown so thick, it was impossible to see more than a few inches in front of him through the sickly yellow haze. Not that it mattered, as his vision had begun to fade to a far more ominous black. His coughing was growing weak when he fell forward, the door previously holding him upright suddenly absent. Through the darkness now enclosing even his mind, Ratchet could feel a hand grab under his arm as Ophelia strained to extricate him from the room.
"Ratchet! Ophelia! Are you all right?"
Once she had managed to drag him out of range, Ophelia fell to the ground beside him and held the respirator to Ratchet's mouth, the Lombax sucking in fresh air in large gulps.
"Yeah, we're okay, Clank!" Her voice was hoarse, and she rubbed the tears from her eyes with her free arm.
"I managed to disengage the lock just in time. It says here they employ a very potent toxin that can even enter its victim through their skin if they are exposed for long enough. Are you both certain that you are all right?"
"Yeah, buddy, I'm good." Ratchet hacked again and held up a weak thumbs up that was more for himself than anyone else.
"Dunderhead tried to kill us," Ophelia told her communicator.
"Look, I'm sorry!" Qwark said. "People make mistakes!"
"But you make stupid mistakes!"
"It was an accident! What more do you want from me?"
"I have reached the master control room," Clank continued on over the superhero's indignant tirade, "and I have located Dr. Nefarious' cell, A13765X. It appears this particular cell has been designed and reserved specifically for him. It is the most secure cell in the entire prison." There was a pause, along with the tapping of keys. "Even so, it appears he was able to escape just last week, but was recaptured before he could leave the facility."
"That's… unsettling," Ratchet said, massaging his burning throat with one hand. His vision was still hazy, but slowly returning. "Any sign of his butler? I'm guessing we'd better locate him, too."
"I have done a full scan of the database, and it does not appear that Lawrence was arrested. I will continue to search for the passcode to Dr. Nefarious' cell. And Captain Qwark…please be more careful."
"I'm trying! I'm not suited for…sitting in chairs and pressing buttons. I need action! And excitement!"
Ratchet attempted to stand, only managing to straighten the rest of the way thanks to Ophelia looping an arm around his waist. He readjusted his earpiece. If it wasn't currently his only means of contacting Clank, he would have pulled it out by now. "Why don't you just focus on doing your job so you don't lead us into any more death traps, okay?"
"You know, I'm really not liking your tone!"
"Do that again," Ophelia said, "and I'll enact the promised 'tickling torment' even if you don't manage to kill us. Understand?"
That was enough to silence the superhero's complaining.
Ratchet and Ophelia continued onward, eyes still stinging from the poisonous gas. He should've known to never trust Qwark with the directions. They would have likely been better off feeling their way along blindfolded. Only a couple more maintenance bots were spotted, only one of which he had to blast when it turned their way without warning. They had to pick up the pace when the distant sound of footsteps indicated a patrol was heading their way to investigate the sudden disturbance.
Ten minutes later, the silence was broken again when Clank's voice returned over the earpiece. "There may be a slight problem."
"What is it?"
"Dr. Nefarious' cell is secured by four passcodes and no fewer than five retinal scans from the highest ranking officers, including the warden himself. With our current resources, there is no feasible way we will be able to open the door to his cell."
Ratchet maintained silent, at a loss. Eventually, his mouth stuttered back into motion. "So…what now?"
Ophelia shrugged. "We kidnap all of them. Easy."
Clank continued on as if he hadn't heard Ophelia's remark. "Fortunately, I had anticipated this very possibility, and that is the other reason why I had you travel through the prison's basement. You see, if the door to his cell were to lose power for more than a few minutes, the security will be reset to the default settings. Under normal circumstances, however, the backup generators to that grid would be activated automatically, and an alarm would be set off. If you can locate the generator room and disable the generators for that cell block before switching off the power to the maximum security wing, there will be no power left to set off the alarm in that sector. Then I should be able to reset the passcodes to ones we know, provided I can hack into the administrator account, that is."
"Gotcha." Ratchet looked around to ensure they were still alone. "But won't cutting the power let the prisoners out?"
"Fortunately, they have safeguards to prevent this. If there is no power, the doors are permanently locked until power is restored. There should be no danger."
No danger. Sure. If you say so…
"Okay, Clank, you can count on us."
For maximum efficiency, it was decided the best course of action was to split up. Ophelia was assigned the generator room, leaving Ratchet with the task of locating the main breaker room. Fifteen minutes and three wrong turns later, and he had found himself sealed between two doors for the second time that day. This was the final security checkpoint before his destination, and this time, he had help.
"Oh, you again," came the same female voice from earlier. "Is this where you intended on going? Thank you for attacking one of our security doors, by the way. Now we have to get it replaced. The expense will be taken out of your salary."
"Do you want the password or not?" Ratchet asked.
The red light on the keypad blinked three times in slow succession. "Password please."
Clank's instructions came over the earpiece, Ratchet entering the digits into the keypad as they were fed to him.
"That is correct. You may enter," the computerized voice said. "Have a nice day." Both doors slid open in unison, and he strode forward with doubled speed in case she changed her mind.
Just beyond was a small room whose walls were covered in wires, black, blue, red, of varying thicknesses. Some were bundled together, while others were five inches in diameter just on their own. All of it, more or less, meandered their way down to a large breaker box set in the middle of the wall directly across from him.
Ratchet pulled the metal panel open, revealing countless little black switches with labels of varying degrees of legibility. With one finger poised, he scanned the many rooms of the prison on display. Cafeteria. Kitchen. Infirmary.
Hall of Endless Screaming. Huh, he didn't want to know what happened in that room.
Ah, there it was. Maximum security wing.
He felt a chill settle in the pit of his stomach. This was wrong on so many levels. How had he gotten himself wrangled into this mess?
What was Clank thinking?
The Lombax paced back and forth, one hand meeting the other, fist to open palm. "Ophelia. Ophelia, do you read me? I'm where I need to be. Have you located the generator room yet?"
"Huh? Oh, not yet, Ratchet. Just give me a little longer. Big Green is still having trouble telling his right from his left. I told him about that trick where you make an L with your fingers, but he didn't seem to get it."
"All right. Just…hurry up, okay?"
"Hurrying, sure, okay. I'll be there soon. Warrior Goddess, over and out!"
Ratchet released a long sigh, his movement taking up a more feverish pace from one side of the room to another. Even his tail was whipping this way and that, in an equal state of agitation. He couldn't believe he was actually doing this. Breaking Nefarious out of jail? Was he crazy for agreeing to this? Or was the whole universe mad, and he was the only sane one?
"You all right, Clank?" he asked his communicator. "Nothing unusual going on?" When there was no answer, he repeated his friend's name once more.
"I am fine, Ratchet."
Ratchet's back met the nearest wall, and he slid down it until he was sitting on the rough, concrete floor. Silence continued for several minutes before, "Clank…I understand why you didn't want to bring this up…I mean, this whole…prison rescue plan…" He licked his lips, unsure where he was going with this. "Sure, I was upset, but I would have been less upset if you had talked to me about it first. Okay?"
Clank didn't respond right away. And when he did finally speak, it was only to say, "I understand."
He waited, but that appeared to be all the robot had to say. He had tried this before, in the several days they had spent preparing for this whole absurd plan. Clank was not normally the stubborn one. That honor usually went to him. He supposed this was the payback that had long-awaited him after all the times he had been in a bad mood.
Ratchet jolted to attention, not expecting his friend to speak again.
"I am afraid that I cannot speak further right now. Someone is headed for my position. I did not expect this stage of the plan to take so long. I have locked the door, but that will only alert them to the fact that there is an intruder."
Ratchet darted to his feet, his mind racing for ideas. "Wh-what if I turn off the power? You think that'll distract them?"
"You cannot shut off the power before Ophelia turns off the correct generator."
His eyes scanned over the breaker panel, but with little knowledge as to the layout of the prison, it was all but meaningless to him. They might as well not have been labelled at all. "Which section is closest to you?"
"Ratchet, you will set off the alarm. They will know someone is in the main breaker room and send reinforcements. You will be trapped."
Ratchet could hear a banging sound through his earpiece. "I don't think I have much choice."
"It will compromise the mission. You must not-"
"Sorry, buddy, but you're more important than this mission." Ratchet grabbed the main power lever and pulled it down. The lights flickered, nearly losing power before the generators kicked on. And then everything turned red as an alarm whined harshly to life high above Ratchet's head, the distance not enough to prevent the sound from penetrating deep into the prison's underbelly.
If that didn't get the guard's attention, he didn't know what would.
Ratchet darted for the only entrance, and exit, to the room, but the doors had already slammed down. The room alternated between glowing crimson and deepest blackness, a strobe effect that left him disoriented and sick. The harsh cry of the siren made it hard for him to think, and it, paired with the pounding of his heart, nearly concealed a metallic clambering far off in the distance. But growing louder with a frightening finality.
It was almost enough to hide the hissing of the poison gas being filtered into the room from thin vents overhead.
The only saving grace was the fact that this room was larger and would take longer to fill with the toxic substance. Perhaps there were also more vents to make up for it, but he tried not to think about that. He crouched low to the floor to stay beneath the thickening cloud, Combustor in hand and O2 Mask strapped firmly to his face. He had survived the toxin before. What was more unsettling was the unknown, and that metallic clanking was growing louder.
In between spurts of darkness, the red lights illuminated round holes near the ceiling that had just slid open. Ratchet attempted to regulate his breathing, to clear his mind even as his eyes started to burn and his nose began to fight against the bitter smell of poison.
Small, circular orbs began to flood through those openings, dozens of them dropping down to hover roughly a foot over the ground. Their smooth surfaces broke, splitting to form spindly arms wielding glimmering blades. Unimpressive though there size may have been, Ratchet had to guess it wouldn't take long for them to slice up anyone in their path.
Okay, this was bad. Maybe he should have listened to Clank.
But he hadn't any choice in the matter. It was either Clank or him.
So then it had to be him.
Ratchet fired off his pistol, taking out dozens of robots one after another. But even that was not enough to keep up with the sheer speed at which they poured through those holes, overwhelming him as quickly as any approaching tide. Blades sliced his legs, one nicked his tail. Switching to his Pyrocitor made for a more thorough swath of damage that was more effective at keeping them at bay. But even down here, it was not enough to avoid the poison gas that had pervaded every inch of space and soon, every pore in his body.
The blackness one always associates with their demise came sooner than expected. He had always assumed that very same darkness would be paired with silence, and even though the siren had at last ceased its relentless whine, the frantic clashing of metal remained. So this couldn't be the sweet release of death, after all, or else heaven was no freedom from pain and poison.
Or else he had gone to the other place. Releasing a dangerous criminal from prison was not exactly the most morally upright thing to do. Perhaps the fact that he hadn't yet succeeded in his mission was irrelevant.
Spouting another plume of fire illuminated the swarm of robots crowding in on him from all sides, their blades catching the light. A quick look back told him the door was open, and that was all the excuse he needed. Ratchet launched himself from the room, through the security checkpoint and back into the maintenance corridors. The Pyrocitor guided his way through the darkness, the robots following twenty feet behind.
The Lombax shut off his weapon at an approaching corner, slamming into it in the resulting darkness, but making the turn just the same. He felt some pipes with his free hand, cold and rough from rust, and slid behind them to hide. He held his breath as the swarm of security drones passed him by to his right, still on their set path, thus far unaware that their victim had eluded them.
Ratchet remained in absolute darkness for several minutes, his muscles taut and ears straining for any sign of his assailants. He dared not utter a word until the sound of slicing blades had long since faded into the distance. "Qwark…generator room."
Guided by the superhero's directions, the Lombax proceeded through the tunnels at a light trot. The Pyrocitor served as a sufficient torch for lighting his way, his large ears listening for any sign that the security drones were close. Though it would seem he had indeed managed to escape from those blade-wielding maniacs, such luck paled against the certainty that every guard in the prison had to be looking for them by now.
It wasn't much longer before the Lombax detected the smell of smoke wafting down a nearby corridor. He didn't need the superhero to tell him that this was the direction to go. Following the scent, he passed through another security checkpoint, the cold, female voice non-existent without electricity to provide the power required for her cold mannerisms. In the room that followed, row after row of large, cylindrical generators smoked and sparked, sending jolting flashes of white light at irregular intervals. The thrum of static electricity filled the air and made his fur stand on end. And there, in the midst of her destruction, sat Ophelia.
She looked up at his approach, a huge smile overtaking her features. "Oh, Ratchet, there you are! I heard those sirens going off, so I…I don't know, I kind of panicked and just destroyed all the generators. But…weren't you supposed to wait for me?" Before he could answer, she stood up and began marching towards him. "Doesn't matter. I'm just glad you're here. I've been sitting in the dark for the last…" She trailed off, her earlier smile replaced by a stunned stare as she studied him in the flickering light of his makeshift torch. "Are you okay? You're bleeding!"
He looked down. Blood stained his pants in irregular spatterings, the long, jagged holes in the fabric only hinting at the true extent of the damage. The earlier adrenaline had all but helped him to forget his injuries. But now that he had been reminded, the sharp sting of multiple deep gashes washed over him in a vengeful wave. He felt dizzy.
He swallowed back a rising nausea and averted his gaze from his crimson-stained clothing. "I'm fine. Really." When she opened her mouth to protest, he went on, "We can't worry about that right now. We just need to get Nefarious and get out of here as quickly as we can. I should probably update Clank on what's going on."
Ophelia continued to watch him with barely concealed worry as he switched channels on his communicator. "Clank? You there?"
The answer didn't come right away. "Yes, I am here."
Ratchet couldn't help but laugh, relief surging through him that all but eclipsed his newly realized discomfort. There had been a lot of close calls today. It was always good to know that one's near death experience had served a greater purpose. "Guess I kind of…overreacted, huh? But hey, look at it this way, this should keep the guards busy for a while." He chuckled again, but received no response. "Clank, you still there, buddy?"
"Ratchet…I told you not to shut off the power before Ophelia reached the generators. Not only could you have gotten yourself killed, but you risked compromising the mission. Now the entire prison is on high alert. They know we are here."
"Well, I know all that, Clank." And he had the wounds to prove it. "And I'm sorry. But I didn't have a choice. We'll be fine. We've done stuff like this before. Remember?"
"You do not seem to understand the severity of the situation."
Ratchet bit his lip, putting great care into choosing the right words. "I'm not stupid, Clank. I understand perfectly how serious this is. I was just trying to-"
"I am expendable, Ratchet. You are not. I am just a machine. You should not have risked the lives of the organic members of the group for my sake."
Biting his lip was no longer having the desired effect. He paused just long enough to confirm that he had heard correctly. "E-excuse me? What's this 'expendable' crap?"
When Clank failed to answer the question, he continued, "You know what, Clank, you're…you're being ridiculous! What you did…what you've gotten us into…it really sucks. But I was trying to be a good friend and let that go. I really was. But if you're going to keep feeling sorry for yourself just because we had an argument, then forget it! Let me know when you're done being a baby!"
Ratchet turned off his communicator entirely. He didn't need to deal with anyone right now. Not Qwark. And most certainly not Clank. His veins felt as if they were filled with ice water, and he gritted his teeth in an effort to redirect his focus elsewhere.
It took him several moments, and a wave from Ophelia, to remember that she was still there.
"Uh, Ratchet…is everything all right? What's the next thing we're supposed to do? I thought…"
When he looked up, he noticed that she was fidgeting with her hands. It took great effort to unclench his jaw. "Why don't you…talk to him about our next move? I'm just…kind of tired right now."
Ratchet turned, pacing a short distance away before leaning his forehead against the cold wall. Behind him, he could just catch Ophelia's voice, soft, as if she feared what might happen if she attracted too much of the Lombax's attention.
"Uh, Clank? Come in, little guy."
This wasn't like Clank at all. But two could play at that game. And Ratchet could play it better.
Several minutes later, Ophelia tapped him on the shoulder, jerking him out of his reverie. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. Um…Clank said that without power, he can't hack into the main computer. But he thinks he can power the keypad to Nefarious' cell, so…he'll meet up with us there." When he continued to gnaw on his lip, she asked, "Are you sure you're okay?" She nudged him once, adding the word "Fur ball?" and a smile.
Ratchet forced himself to smile back. Without a mirror, he had no way of knowing how convincing it really was. "Yeah, fine. Guess we better get going." Of course he was fine. The only thing that mattered was the mission. Apparently. And it was going fine.
Fine.
The pair fell in beside one another as they exited the generator room, Qwark continuing to feed Ophelia directions through her earpiece. The prison's maintenance corridors remained dark and silent except for the occasional distant footsteps of guards hurrying to and fro or the jarring metallic clattering of those security bots as they continued to search for their prey. The guards knew they were down here. Their original intent was to get in and get out without their presence being detected. Having utterly failed, all that was left was to avoid being found out. It was one thing that Zordoom was aware there were intruders. What they had to avoid at all costs was having their identities discovered.
Maybe the generators wouldn't be functioning again any time soon, but it was only a matter of time before power was restored. It was as if they had accomplished nothing. Nothing, aside from saving Clank. And apparently he was an idiot for thinking that was important.
Ophelia pointed out a short flight of metal stairs ahead of them. They picked up the pace, their time in this claustrophobic nightmare of tunnels almost at an end. Once they had reached the top, Ratchet peered out the door leading back into Zordoom's main facility, his Pyrocitor barely interrupting the darkness beyond. All he understood of their new surroundings came from memory, the increased space hardly a welcome escape from the cramped quarters of the maintenance corridors, for the wide passageways and tall ceilings of the prison proper would only leave them feeling more exposed. At least the power outage would prove to be to their advantage. Which only increased the urgency to reach their destination while they still had the cover of darkness at their disposal.
"Stay close, Ophelia."
Ratchet could already detect angry grumblings from the inmates demanding to know the reason behind the power outage. As they headed down the hallway to the left, the ruckus grew louder when they approached several floors of cells, the doors to many of them shaking with the occupants' newfound determination to escape, believing this a prime chance to attempt a breakout.
The pair moved quickly, Ratchet stepping over a tentacle that had crawled through the small, round window in one of the nearest cells, the most freedom its owner would be feeling in a long while, if ever, and made another turn based on Qwark's directions.
Not only was Zordoom famed for being the most secure prison in both the Solana and Polaris Galaxies combined, it was also infamous for being the cruelest, something to which the government was more than willing to turn a blind eye. Whoever the warden was, it was not known to anyone on the outside, but he had heard stories regarding the fate of anyone who broke the rules that would make even the most hardened criminal's skin crawl. Whatever punishment Nefarious might have received for his escape attempt, Ratchet was sure he deserved it.
When they reached the large, round door to the maximum security wing, Ratchet's heartbeat picked up. The most ruthless criminals of two galaxies were through that door. The ones that had been caught anyway. His Decryptor made short work of the security blocking their way, power no doubt provided by a battery that was still dutifully hard at work even while the rest of the facility slept.
Once the door was open, another hallway came into view running perpendicular to theirs. Stepping inside, the door slid shut behind them with a disturbing finality. Here, the cells had no windows, and a new kind of silence engulfed them that made the quiet of the maintenance corridors feel like the greatest din in comparison. Ratchet and Ophelia made their way to cell A13765X and stopped before it.
What if Nefarious just killed them all in a murderous rage? As much as the villain deserved to be here, Ratchet just had a feeling he wouldn't see it that way.
The pair exchanged glances, and Ratchet nodded. Now wasn't the time to be stubborn. Ratchet turned his communicator back on. "We're here at the rendezvous point. Are you-" He was startled when something small dropped down beside him.
Clank brushed dust from his face, averting his gaze just as soon as he had caught the Lombax's attention. Ratchet couldn't deny he did the same. "The minimum security required for this cell block is three passcodes." The robot trailed off. Whatever more he meant to say remained a mystery as he opened the compartment in his chest and pulled out a short cable, not unlike what he had done back on Zeta-13.
The little robot made short work of removing the front panel of the keypad, the buttons remaining attached via a short wire. Attaching his own cable, the keypad lit up, and Clank entered several passcodes in quick succession.
"Done." He pressed "enter" after the input of the final code and stepped back. After a short delay, there was the hollow bang of something moving aside, followed by a grinding that gradually increased in speed as something rotated within the massive door's inner workings. No bank in the universe was this secure.
"Come on, Ophelia, help me push."
Without power, the door would not be opening on its own. The Virditian took up her place beside him, and the pair strained against the massive door. At first, it failed to budge even an inch, and then, as if it had merely required the right amount of persuasion, it slid aside on its railing, revealing itself to be three feet thick and ten feet high. And there, on the other side, was Dr. Nefarious.
The galaxy's most infamous supervillain knelt in the middle of the room, restrained by nearly a dozen energy coils attached by rings about his neck and limbs that illuminated the room with blue light, their other ends secured by massive steel bolts set high up in the walls and ceiling. Ratchet stepped forward, feeling his fur prickle for the second time that day. There was a buzzing that only hinted at the pure energy emanating from those electric chains. The very air itself thrummed with it.
Nefarious remained slumped even upon their approach, and it was only upon closer inspection that the Lombax took notice of the bruises overtaking the right side of the villain's face, coloring his normally green skin a dark purple and swelling one eye shut. That was what happened to people who broke rules in Zordoom Prison.
And beneath the persistent hum was something else Ratchet found most unsettling of all, muttered words too incoherent to make out. It was an understatement to say that this was not what they had been expecting.
"You guys better take a look at this."
Before he had even spoken, the robot was already heading towards the scientist with cautious steps. "Oh, dear."
There was no break in Nefarious' mumbled rambling even when Clank waved a hand before his face. "Dr. Nefarious? Dr. Nefarious, we have come to free you. Can you hear me?" In a softer voice, he continued, "It seems he is suffering from some sort of mental episode. I wonder if it was his arrest that brought this on."
Ratchet crossed his arms. Who really cared? He always knew the guy was nuts.
Ophelia studied the restraints holding the scientist in place. "How do we shut these things off?"
Ratchet produced his Combustor, the energy coils flickering out of existence one after another as he shot them at their anchor point. Clank was attempting to remove the collar around the scientist's neck when Nefarious looked up as if waking from some long slumber. He swatted the robot away and staggered to his feet, nearly tumbling back to the floor before catching his balance just in time. Even then, he continued to wobble, as if standing was not something he had done in a long time.
The trio retreated a few steps backwards, but the scientist merely stared right through them and rubbed his temple with one hand. The one that remained at his side looked strangely twisted. "I'm not supposed to be here," he said, his voice so soft, it seemed highly doubtful he was actually speaking to anyone.
"Doctor," Clank began, taking a step forward, but he was interrupted when Nefarious spoke again.
"I'm not- Now what was I supposed to be doing right now?"
"We don't have time for this," Ratchet said. "We need to get him out of here." This went against everything he believed him. The Lombax's fingers twitched. He didn't deserve what they were doing for him.
It sickened him that Nefarious hadn't been executed by now. Frankly, he would have loved to be the one to pull the trigger.
Ophelia was drawing closer to the scientist, lifting her hand in a half wave. "Hey, Nefarious, old pal…" she tried annunciating her words in a slow, clear manner, like one speaking to a very small child, "We're gonna get you out of here, okay?"
If Nefarious didn't cooperate, maybe that's exactly what he'd do.
He didn't care what Clank thought. He didn't care.
"Enough nonsense. We're leaving. Come with us or don't." When Nefarious returned to muttering nonsense to himself, Ratchet grabbed him by the arm and started to pull him towards the exit.
They had just entered the hallway beyond when the scientist took note of his existence, the one eye that remained open locking onto the Lombax. He pulled free of Ratchet's grip and shook an admonishing finger at him. "I have an appointment to get to, you know. I'm probably late by now."
Ratchet could have smacked him, right then and there.
They all froze when an alarm sounded and the entire surface of the hallway began to alternate between the soulless grey of the metal walls and an angry red. It seemed someone had finally thought to turn the power back on.
"Warning, Prisoner #576623301, Dr. Nefarious, has left his cell," blared overhead in that same computerized voice from earlier. "Dispatch guards to maximum security cell block Alpha."
"That's what I had forgotten," Nefarious said, still staring at the ceiling where the noise had originated. Without warning, the scientist lunged for him with an unexpected ferocity. Ratchet attempted to fight him off, but was temporarily stunned when Nefarious slammed him face first into the nearest wall.
This was all the provocation he needed. The Lombax spun around as soon as he was released, nose bleeding and teeth bared. His Combustor was already poised to deliver the finishing blow, only for his snarl to give way to confusion at the Buzz Blade clutched in the scientist's good hand.
Nefarious yanked back one sleeve and, with savage precision, dug one corner of the blade into his upper forearm. A moment later, he had gouged out a small metal capsule, leaving a bloody wound where it had previously been. It clicked to the floor, the red light on either end continuing to blink slowly. "Think they'd stick a tracking device in me, did they?" he said, throwing the Buzz Blade down with a clatter. "Try finding me now, twits!" Nefarious screamed at the top of his lungs.
Ratchet drew in a calming breath, his arms still shaking. After all they had done to evade detection, and now the guards would be upon them at any moment. Perhaps Clank thought this was all his fault. Because he had disobeyed direct orders.
What are you thinking, Ratchet? Not now. Not here.
"We better get going. Clank, get on my back." When the robot failed to respond, Ratchet grabbed him, only for his friend's hand to slip from his grasp. He looked back to see what had gone wrong, reaching for the robot once more, but Clank resisted, tugging himself free again with an uncharacteristic boldness.
Their gazes met, a defiant look present in the robot's optics that made the last ounces of emotion left in the taxed Lombax go numb. He could have stood frozen for hours trying to understand what had just happened, why his best friend was suddenly behaving in so hostile a fashion, but he didn't have time. In one's mind, time could stand still, but only temporarily, and never in reality. He couldn't react to this right now. Only one thing overrode all else.
And that was escape.
Ratchet forced all competing thoughts from his mind, a practice he had perfected after surviving an untold number of dangerous encounters. He hadn't chosen to be conditioned this way. It had just happened.
"Ophelia, grab Clank!" Taking hold of Nefarious by the arm once again, Ratchet began to yank him down the hallway. They sprinted past cell after cell, and he only released the scientist once he could be sure that he would follow.
Ratchet pressed a finger to his earpiece. "Hey, uh…" He glanced back at Nefarious. Erratic as his behavior was today, he'd hate to see how the villain would react if he knew Qwark was involved in his rescue. Ratchet swallowed what remained of his self-respect. "Thunder Pecs…"
There was a gasp on the other end. "You actually said it! I'm proud of you, Cannon Fodder!"
"You need to get down here right away!" He looked back once more, the distinctive red lights of security drones glimmering in the distance, these ones bigger than the ones he had encountered in the maintenance corridors. These were not simple spheres of death, but fully-equipped battle bots nearly twice his height and bristling with weapons attached to their arms and back. For now, they were all collected outside of Nefarious' cell where the tracking device had fallen, but he doubted their luck would last much longer. "Hurry!"
While he could, theoretically, fight them off, he couldn't risk his face being seen. Or else next time they paid Zordoom a visit, it would be as guests, and it would be for life.
"Change of plans!" With no more forewarning, Ophelia grabbed her comrades and tugged them through a chute in the wall nearest them. Everyone tumbled head over heels down a long metal tunnel before Ratchet had the wind knocked from him on both sides, courtesy of the ground rising up to meet them and the scientist landing right on top of him.
His mind continued to spin long after his body had stilled. It was not until he had regained enough of his senses and his eyes had better adjusted to the dim lighting that Ratchet pushed Nefarious off of him and sat upright. He hissed as the cuts in his legs ached in renewed protest, wobbling to his feet when he realized he was kneeling in a massive pile of trash of indeterminate depth.
"We have a new pickup zone," Clank was speaking into his communicator. "Meet us in Sector G-62."
"Let's see them follow us down here!" Ophelia was still out of breath and attempting to stand up when the ground beneath her was anything but stable. She slipped when her already questionable footing was undermined by a crumpling cardboard box beneath her left boot, and she landed back in the trash, laughing as she did so. "Boy, this was fun! I could get used to daring rescue missions!" Stretching her arms out from her sides, she proceeded to make angels in the trash beneath her.
Ratchet wandered over to the nearest wall and leaned against it, arms crossed. He gagged when he forgot to breathe through his mouth and caught a whiff of the refuse-infused air. He just managed to keep himself from being sick by focusing his attention on Clank's voice.
"Please stay still, Doctor. I will tend to your injuries once we arrive on our ship."
Who cared about Nefarious? Ratchet was injured, too, and he didn't see Clank showering him with sympathy.
Maybe Clank just hadn't noticed yet.
Well, whose fault was that?
Ratchet felt his stomach clench as he recalled something Ophelia had said a long time ago on the misnamed planet Myrtle. Kindness would get him killed one day, she had said. He didn't take a lot of what she said seriously, but sometimes he couldn't help but wonder whether or not too much kindness was really a good thing. But that described Clank, not him.
Ratchet stiffened when his thoughts were interrupted once more.
"Is it getting hot in here?" Nefarious giggled. "Because it's certainly not me." He snorted again, as if laughing at some inside joke.
Unless he was mistaken, it was getting warmer in here. A lot warmer.
"They've been following me for weeks. Five weeks. Six weeks. I've lost count anymore," the scientist went on, chuckling once more, as if finding great humor in the whole situation. "Since when was I ever this popular? You think if I just give them my autograph, they'll leave me alone?"
For reducing the amount of trash in any large facility, there were usually two options. A compactor or an incinerator. Neither option seemed too welcoming, though he was starting to guess which one it was.
"We have to get out of here! The incinerator's about to come on!" Ratchet turned around, feeling along the wall's slimy surface for some sign of an exit, sweat beading on his forehead as the room grew hotter still. Ophelia had jumped to her feet, her endeavors to create trash art currently interrupted, while Clank was standing in taut attention with a pensive finger to his chin, his mind surely working for a solution. Meanwhile, Nefarious was attempting to fan himself with some sort of food wrapper.
Ophelia had taken to assisting the Lombax in scanning the walls when Clank spoke up at last. "I believe once the trash has been incinerated, it is released into large ships for transport off-world. Which means there should be a hatch in the center of the floor."
With a clear goal now in sight, they began digging as quickly as they could, the rapidly climbing temperature an effective means of blocking their minds from questioning the materials they were being forced to wade through and the rancid grime now coating them up to their shoulders.
"Nefarious, help us out, okay?" Ratchet called over his shoulder, pausing just long enough to wipe sweat from his eyes. Even Veldin had never gotten this hot.
On Veldin, he would have gotten some ice cream or a cold drink. Nowadays, there was usually a weapon that could achieve the same purpose.
Ratchet equipped his Frost Cannon and expelled a blanket of ice over the trash and the walls, reversing the sweltering temperatures to one that made him shiver instead. Of course, fire was ice's greatest weakness, and they resumed their work with renewed vigor as the ice melted all around them, leaving them to dig through lukewarm slush. They located the floor just as Nefarious was wandering over and pried open the exit hatch.
If Qwark was late, they'd have a very long fall to the ocean below. Between that and the budding fire they had just left behind, it was all a matter of how one would prefer to die.
With a collection of screams, the entire group fell through the bottom hatch amidst a shower of smoldering garbage. To Ratchet's great relief, the ground met them far sooner than he was expecting.
"Looks like I got here just in time, Cannon Fodder! Thunder Pecs never fails!"
Stunned and just a tad winded, Ratchet was unable to dwell upon their incredible luck for much longer when Nefarious shrieked.
"You can't arrest me again! I haven't even done anything recently! I think."
The hatch in the roof of the ship's rear compartment slid open, and Ratchet shoved Nefarious inside. "Believe me, you'll be thanking us later!" The Lombax dropped in after him, followed by Clank and Ophelia.
"We're all in! Let's get out of here!" Ratchet yelled as the hatch slid shut overhead.
"Sure thing, Cannon Fodder!" Qwark said from the cockpit in the most heroic manner he knew. "Fasten your seatbelts, it's going to be a bumpy ride!"
They were all sent reeling when the ship jerked forward in a sudden burst of speed. It shuddered when their port side collided with something.
"Sorry!" Qwark yelled just as they bumped into something else. "Sorry again! My bad!"
Ratchet clutched the wall for dear life. Beside him, Clank had resorted to holding onto Ophelia's leg, while Nefarious gave up entirely and slunk down in the corner opposite them where falling was no longer a possibility. A short, but nauseating, flight later, and they had returned at last to the smooth flying of open space.
Their attention was dragged across the room when Nefarious began humming softly to himself. Ophelia leaned in closer to Ratchet and whispered, "Is it just me, or is this getting kind of weird?"
"It's been weird."
Clank sighed. "I am certain it will pass. For now, I should probably see what I can do about his injuries."
Ratchet rolled his eyes. "I don't see the point of all this sympathy. He's probably faking it anyway."
Clank glanced over at him, but said nothing. Ratchet headed into the cockpit, not about to spend another second in the supervillain's presence. The best he could do right now was pretend this wasn't really happening.
Qwark looked back at the Lombax's approach. "Mission accomplished, Cannon Fodder!" Gesturing to the seat beside him, he added, "Oh, and look who I picked up!"
The copilot seat spun to reveal the portly form of none other than Nefarious' butler, Lawrence. "I would have helped, but I saw no reason to dirty my hands with a prison break when you three saw fit to do the job for me." With his usual haughty air, the robot took to studying Ratchet's appearance, the Lombax just now remembering that he was covered in filth.
Before the robot could make any comment, Ophelia popped into the room, bandages in tow. "Ratchet, I was thinking you could use… Hey, Lawrence, fancy seeing you here." She threw her arms up in the air in celebration. "Looks like we're all one big team again!"
Qwark shot a thumbs up Ophelia's way. "Mission accomplished, Warrior Goddess!"
"Right back atcha, Thunder Pecs!"
Lawrence stood from his seat and folded his hands over his stomach. "I suppose I had better check on my…employer. I doubt he enjoyed his time in prison very much. He never was one for sitting still."
"I don't get it. Nefarious is horrible to you," Ratchet said as the robot headed past him on his way to the ship's rear compartment. "Why'd you come back?"
Lawrence paused, eyeing him with half-lidded optics. "I hardly see how that is any of your business." He looked Ratchet up and down one final time with barely hidden disdain before leaving the cockpit without another word.
"Hey, Ratchet, come over here."
"What?"
Ophelia patted the copilot seat. "Come over here and sit down."
"Why?"
"Just do it!"
Ratchet obliged, understanding settling in when he remembered the bandages she had brought from the back room. "You really don't have-"
His protest was ignored when Ophelia knelt down, rolling up one of his pant legs to reveal several fresh gashes in Ratchet's leg. Dried blood caked his fur from the knee down, but even that wasn't enough to hide the fact that his cuts had grown raw and inflamed. He looked away.
Producing a bottle of disinfectant, Ratchet winced when she dabbed some on one of his wounds with a square of gauze, causing him to instinctively pull his leg away. "Just be still and let me do this." She turned a stern glare in Qwark's direction when she caught the superhero eyeing Ratchet's injuries with a disturbed grimace. "Tickling torment," was all she had to say to get the man to return his attention to flying the ship.
No one spoke as Ophelia worked quietly to clean his wounds, after which she proceeded to bandage them tightly, the initial sting of his injuries fading to a dull throb. Ratchet leaned back in his seat. He clearly wasn't getting out of this, so he might as well make himself comfortable.
"Just a few months ago, I would have never guessed I'd be in the middle of a prison break." She glanced up and smiled. "Pretty hardcore, huh?"
Ratchet shrugged. "You think that's something? This was actually my second time."
This was enough to draw her focus upwards. "Really? Who was the first person you broke out of jail?"
"Talwyn. She had been locked up because she opposed Tachyon."
"Talwyn? Oh, right, Clank mentioned her earlier, didn't he? So…Talwyn's a girl, huh?" Ophelia smirked. "You must really like her if you'd break her out of jail."
"Oh, you betcha. They've gone on all kinds of adventures together." Qwark looked over and winked. "And one of those times was without Clank…"
Ratchet felt his face grow hot. "Stop it! She's a friend. That's all."
"Just a friend, huh? Well, would you break me out of jail?" Ophelia asked, that sly grin from earlier still present.
Cheeks still warm, the Lombax thought this over. "It depends on what you did."
This seemed to satisfy her. Ophelia barked out a single laugh and returned to her work. It wasn't long before she had finished bandaging his right leg and was turning her attention to the other one.
What would Talwyn think if she found out? He suspected she would probably smack him upside the head and ask him what the heck he had been thinking. She was pretty blunt sometimes. It was probably good for him. No one could ever know they had just broken the worst criminal of all time out of prison. Luckily, no one with the knowledge wished to let that secret slip any more than he did.
He knew one thing, though. He was not watching the news tomorrow.
It pains me to have Ratchet and Clank fighting. Seriously, it hurts my soul. Anyway, this was quite a busy chapter, huh? Hope you guys enjoyed! Please review, my dearies!
