Author's note:

Dear lord, what a year it's been…

First of all, I am so, so sorry it's taken this long to actually post anything and leaving you all in the lurch. Between a bad case of writers block, my mother having a sudden heart attack back in January, and the whole corona virus pandemic on top, things have been more than a little stressful for the last year or so. Thankfully she's mostly recovered now and able to move under her own power once again. But between late night hospital visits and long working hours, I've been struggling to find enough time to write anything coherent, let alone good enough to make an actual chapter.

To be honest, I'm still not entirely happy with the way this one turned out, but like I said in the previous chapter's note, I've been stuck in a rut long enough and really want to get this arc over and done with. Here's hoping it was worth the wait.

I'm always trying to improve as a writer, so please read and review. Constructive criticism is welcome, flamers are not. If you enjoy this story, please feel free to check out the other stories on my account should you wish.

- RevenantReaper337

Disclaimer:

Ratchet & Clank, associated characters, organisations, and intellectual properties belong to Insomniac Games. All other real world organisations and products belong to their respective governments, companies, etc. Original characters, creatures, weapons, etc. belong to me. Cover art belongs to Nekolover3 and is used with her kind permission.

'Thoughts'

Flashbacks

"Speech"


Chapter 52

Last Train to Higson


Allgon City, Damosel

Bogon Galaxy

G2.17.100 Galactic calendar

2:31pm local time

All bravado aside, it hadn't take more than a few seconds after poking his head through the emergency hatch for Ratchet to start having second thoughts about his little ad hoc plan.

The grav-train's still sputtering and malfunctioning shielding system provided very little protection against the howling crosswinds bellowing across the carriage's smooth and otherwise largely featureless roof. Carrying with it the acrid smell of burning electronics and clinging smoke from the train's dangerously overworked power plant, which was somehow still running in spite of the pounding it had taken in the last attack, and feeling like it was going to jump off the rail at every corner given the sheer speed they were pushing. All of which made trying to stay upright without being plucked off the train by competing forces a challenge in itself, even with his inherent lombax sense of balance and Gravity Boots to help keep himself anchored. Let alone doing so while under constant attack by a relentless army of Extermibots, not to mention the occasional Protopet throwing themselves at him from nearby buildings, or even the monorail system itself where a few had somehow managed to perch.

It was a problem that only seemed to get steadily worse the closer they got to the city centre, and if the sheer amount of gunfire and explosions going off down below were anything to go by, where the fighting for Damosel's streets were at their most fierce. Not that the airspace above was any better, thanks in no small part to their doggedly persistent pursuers, who apparently didn't know when to quit. Case in point being the pair of Extermibot transports trailing the train on either side, with what appeared to be a gunship variant of the blocky and utilitarian craft bringing up the rear. The latter apparently content to hang back for now, while the former deployed their respective complements of troops from the oversized cargo pods bolted to either side of their airframes. Or at least that is until Ratchet decided to post a Mini-Nuke through one of the slowly opening hatches with predictably explosive results.

"How much further till we reach the evac site?" the lombax yelled over one shoulder, his words barely audible over the thunderous maelstrom of wind and flaming debris crashing down on all sides. The burning remains of an engine nacelle partially caving in the carriage's roof on impact, and leaving precious little time to evade as the remaining dropships laid down an absurd amount of suppressing fire.

"We would have been there already, had we not been forced to take such an unexpected diversion," Clank answered distractedly as Ratchet took cover behind the rapidly disintegrating wreckage. Absently noting the fresh pair of Extermibots hitting the deck and rapidly advancing on their position, along with the lombax's questionable choice in weaponry. "Are you sure that is wise?"

"Hey, it can't make things any worse than they already are," Ratchet countered. Having swapped his spent launcher for the largely unused Tesla Claw, which was already crackling with electricity as he rounded their shared cover with his finger jamming down the trigger. "And besides, you still haven't answered my question."

Clank couldn't help but vent a sigh at his headstrong companion's sense of priorities. Especially given just how large and intimidating the Extermibots were up close, and the fact that Ratchet's electrical based attacks were simply washing over their armour with no visible signs of damage whatsoever.

Standing around eight feet tall and almost as wide, it was obvious upon first sight that the Extermibots were first and foremost a killing machine. The heavily armoured, metallic black torso resembling a horizontal, wide brimmed barrel, with a bulbous orange mono-eye set within a small dorsal hump near the top. While a pair of thick hoses connected to either side of the nonexistent 'neck' and snaked back over the shoulders, presumably to supply the relatively compact, almost scuba gear-like twin turbine jump pack that had already proven capable of jumping surprisingly long distances. All of which contrasted sharply with the almost skeletal legs and lower body, which were comprised of thin struts and protruding pistons that offered virtually no protection at all. As were the arms with their grasping tridactyl hands, were it not for the thickly armoured, tapered gauntlets that covered their forearms. One of which housed an integrated grenade launcher with a poison gas payload, while the other supplied power to the twin-pronged lightning rifle held by the opposite hand that was longer than Ratchet was tall and currently firing at the lombax with gusto.

The only good news thus far, Clank mused as Ratchet rapidly jinked to one side and closed the distance, was that the sheer amount of wind resistance was actively preventing their foes from making best use of their mobility, or simply outright gassing the train outright. Forcing them to fight with more conventional means that put them within striking distance of the lombax's own weapons. Though that in itself was small comfort when the Extemibots seemed to be capable of shrugging off most small arms fire with ease, and required a worrying amount of heavy ordinance to put them down for good. One had even inexplicably managed to continue functioning despite being reduced to little more than a pair of drunkenly swaying legs without a body, and had almost succeeded in physically booting Ratchet off of the train had Clank not warned him of the previously dismissed threat.

Which is why it came as little surprise to confirm that, unlike the cheaply constructed Blargian robots they had fought in past, the Extermibots were also hardened against the effects of extremely high voltage electrical currents such as those put out by the Tesla Claw. Something he pointed out to his currently dodging and cursing best friend, before deigning to answer his question. "At our current pace, we should reach the station for Higson memorial gardens in approximately twenty minutes. Perhaps sooner, if we can find an active portal that is not locked down by the city authorities. Might I also recommend targeting the leg joints? They appear to be the only viable weak point on this particular model."

"Not fast enough," Ratchet replied with an uncharacteristic grimace. Practically within touching distance now as he deftly ducked beneath one of the Extermibot's wild swings and used its bulk to shield himself from its partner, before promptly smashing the back of its knee joints with his wrench. "We're practically out of ammo as is, and I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this up. We need a way to get these guys off our tail and fast!"

The machine buckled under the unexpected blows, and Ratchet was quick to capitalise on it. Ignoring the bolts of faux lightning splashing all around him in order to leap upon the Extermibot's back and pry open an access panel on its jump pack, before jamming the prongs of his Tesla Claw inside and blasting it with enough electricity to jolt it into life. Sending him sprawling across the pitted surface of the train's roof as the robot promptly blasted towards the sky and smashed into a nearby skyscraper, only to ricochet off and promptly be sucked into one of the remaining dropship's engines in passing. Rupturing it along the entire length, and subsequently sending the entire craft spiralling into an uncontrolled flat spin that abruptly terminated in the upper floors of an office building. Leaving little behind, save for even more burning wreckage and debris to rain down upon the already chaotic streets below as it swiftly vanished into the distance.

Ratchet, however, was far too busy trying to survive in order to appreciate his handiwork. The second Extermibot making full use of its sheer bulk to block the lombax's path and gradually forcing him towards the back of the train, where the gunship was still ready and waiting. It's outboard cargo pods fully open and mounted machineguns manned by a fresh pair of Extermibots on either side, while the oversized rotary cannon protruding from its belly looked like it had just finished spooling up to unleash hell on the otherwise defenceless train. Caught in the inevitable crossfire as they were, it was truly a no win situation under most normal circumstances. But then again, Ratchet had long since proven to be far from anyone's definition of 'normal', least of all his best friend. Which is why it came as little surprise to Clank when the lombax in question elected to disengage his Gravity Boots and jump off of a high speed, moving train with a rocket launcher in one hand and some pithy one liner that was quickly lost to the wind.

The world abruptly spun upside down, along with Clank's sense of direction as Ratchet executed a front flip whilst emptying the Minirocket Tube's remaining magazine into the solitary Extermibot behind them. Managing to score enough hits to leave the machine reeling and shooting wildly off target as he dropped below its line of fire, before deftly equipping his Grind Boots and just barely sticking his landing on the transit line's narrow gauge rail. Leaving a torrent of artificial lightning, and what looked like streams of plasma passing by harmlessly overhead but a moment later, shortly followed by a muted explosion and yet more fine debris sweeping past them in the train's wake. The duo only managing to keep pace at all thanks to Ratchet's quick thinking and timely use of the Swingshot as an impromptu tether, and only then since the rearmost carriage's power couplings were superficially similar enough to standard Versa-Targets for it to work.

"Should've bought a ticket, pal!" Ratchet quipped as he watched the rapidly disappearing chunks of Extermibot left in their wake, only to swiftly lose his cheer once he realised their new predicament.

Because unfortunately, being attached to such a fast moving target made reeling themselves back in afterwards a difficult prospect at best, and the gunship still trailing just behind them clearly had no concerns about engaging seemingly defenceless targets. A fact made abundantly clear by the fresh burst of plasma being sent their way as the bulky machine leisurely reoriented to face them. The door gunners adding their own firepower to the mix as the gunship gradually lowered its altitude almost to the point of touching the rail, before attempting to line up the ventral cannon for what should have been the finishing blow, had it not failed to take lombax tenacity and the train's other passengers into account.

A bewildering array of small arms fire lanced out of the rear carriage's thoroughly smashed windows, pinging off of the gunship's cockpit and largely being a nuisance at best. But it was enough to distract the pilot and prevent them from getting a proper bead on Ratchet as he leapt over the initial stream of plasma being sent his way. The impromptu Swingshot tether allowing him to kick off the rail as they rounded a corner and use the momentum to wall-run across the length of a billboard that ran parallel to the main transit route. A fresh trail of plasma chasing him all the way, and almost bringing the structure down on top of the absurdly agile lombax had he not sprung off at the last moment. The Swingshot's cable violently detaching as the power coupling it was tethered to finally gave out, but not before carrying Ratchet in a tight arc that practically slammed him back down into the rear carriage's roof with bone-shaking force. Leaving him struggling to keep from being torn off of the battle-scarred surface for a few heart-stopping moments until his Gravity Boots kicked in once more.

"Okay... Not doing that again in a hurry," Ratchet managed between breaths, only to yelp and jink aside as the gunship stitched a line of plasma across his prior location. Mentally running a tally of his remaining ordinance between dodging bursts of fire from both door gunners and its ventral cannon, and only pausing briefly to accept the call being routed to his helmet's ear piece.

"You alright up there, mate?" Cash's voice filtered through his ear, along with the background noise of so many frightened people packed into the train's cramped interior. The concerned tone gaining some mirth as Ratchet continued to curse and weave through the fire being sent his way. "How's that 'train surfing' working out for ya?"

"It's, uh... getting there," Ratchet hazarded distractedly. Momentarily disengaging his Gravity Boots in order to slide under the gunship's arc of fire, before just as quickly flipping them back on and peppering the craft's underbelly with his Meteor Gun. "How're things on your end?"

"Not looking good," the merc replied after a few seconds consideration. What little good cheer he'd been trying to interject drying up in an instant at his next words. "There's just too many injured and not enough supplies to go around. We've already lost a few of the worst cases, and there'll be a whole lot more unless we can get these people some proper medical attention."

A Grim assessment perhaps, but not entirely unexpected given the circumstances. It was clear from the outset that some of the refugees weren't going to make it; especially those with some of the more horrific injuries and a distinct lack of Nanotech needed to keep them stabilised. Though that that didn't make accepting it any easier.

"Do what you can for them, we'll be there soon," Ratchet promised soberly. Shifting his weight as the train's route abruptly weaved through a series of office buildings at high speed, desperately trying to get a bead on one of the door gunners all the while. The lumbering gunship struggling to keep pace and forced to take each turn with wide, swooping motions that left its flanks momentarily exposed. "Hey Clank, think you can call ahead and let the station know we're coming? The last thing we wanna do is drop a bunch of Extermibots on their heads."

While he wasn't exactly in a position to see it, Ratchet could almost feel Clank shaking his head in negation as he replied. "I am afraid not, Ratchet. A majority of the local communications network still appears to jammed or otherwise limited to a worrying degree. We were fortunate that the police officer was able to contact her superiors when she did, otherwise we may not have been able to evacuate the refugees at all."

And wasn't that a horrifying thought? Ratchet couldn't help but shudder internally at what might have been, had the critically wounded cop not pulled through for them back on that isolated train platform. The difference between barely escaping with their lives and a gruesome last stand all boiling down to a barely conscious woman's desperate call for help, and praying that somebody on the other end was actually able to receive it.

Jinking to one side with a grimace as an extended burst of plasma stitched across the train's roof where he'd been standing, Ratchet shook off any such thoughts in favour of the more pressing matter at hand. Namely the gunship, which was still raining a constant stream of plasma on their collective heads, along with a whole lot of shattered glass as it over compensated and walked a line of fire across the row of skyscrapers just beyond. The brief reprieve giving him a chance to reposition, and upon catching sight of an approaching billboard jutting out from the side of a building up ahead, a fleeting idea on how to finally get the gunship off their tail.

Ignoring the 'low ammo' indicator blinking on his helmet's HUD and trusting Clank to watch his back, Ratchet ignored the gunship's fire for the few seconds he needed to lead his intended target just so, before slowly squeezing the trigger. His last Minirocket streaking across the rapidly diminishing gap between himself and the building, striking just behind the brackets supporting most of the billboard's weight, and causing the whole structure to tear itself free. A mass of metal and concrete debris that narrowly missed the grav-train as it flashed by underneath, and directly into the gunship's path with no time to manoeuvre. Or so it should have been, had the pilot not been mechanical in nature instead of organic and with the reaction times to boot. Leaving Ratchet cursing under his breath as the gunship instead nosed up and slammed on the brakes while lurching to the left; vectoring behind the building in question and out of sight as the broken billboard's remains harmlessly crashed down on the streets below.

So wrapped up was he in frustration and trying to work out where the next attack would come from, that Ratchet didn't even realise Clank had been trying to get his attention until a pair of metallic digits jabbed him in the side. "Gah! What the hell was that for?!"

"Ratchet," Clank enunciated firmly, and with perhaps more than a tinge of annoyance. "As I have been trying to tell you, Mr. Harding and I have managed to re-establish limited contact with Doctor Cross and-"

"Ellen!" the lombax exclaimed, his foul mood vanishing in the face of rising hope. "Are they here? is she okay?"

"...Perhaps it would be best if you spoke to her yourself," Clank replied after a hesitant pause, not helping Ratchet's increasing anxiety in the slightest. "Patching you through now."

The lombax winced as a brief burst of static filtered through his helmet's internal speakers, ears twitching involuntarily at the rapidly rising pitch, before perking up once he heard the somewhat tinny, but still recognisable tone of Ellen's voice. Albeit shouting over what sounded like a constant barrage of gunfire, guttural roars, and explosions. "-ing through the air ducts! What's taking so long?!"

"Ellen!" Ratchet exclaimed, cringing momentarily as a roaring shotgun blast and subsequent, bloodcurdling screech blared through his eardrums. "We were just about ready to give up over here. Where the heck are you guys?"


{()}


"Up to our eyeballs in Protopets!" Ellen yelled over the cacophony of battle. Frantically back-peddling while trying to slot a fresh Nanoclip into her Blitz Cannon, before giving up in favour of emptying the last of her Bouncer's remaining ammo into the rapidly encroaching horde. The ripple effect of multiple submunitions going off at once tearing the clustered Protopets apart, buying her enough time to finish reloading and a chance to reply while keeping an eye out for the next incursion. "We're holed up next to a radio tower on top of a mall, somewhere on the east side of the city. But this place is crawling with Protopets, and if Angela's right, then it's probably where this whole mess started in the first place."

"Wait, what?!" Ratchet yelped, sounding like he was on the verge of panic. "No! You can't stay there! The whole city's about to wiped out!"

"Unfortunately, Ratchet is correct," Clank added sombrely. "The refugees we have encountered indicated that local authorities have already deployed large numbers of Extermibots throughout the city, and have already proven to be indiscriminate with regards to organic life-forms. Most urban areas are considered lost, and the likelihood of a 'scorched earth' policy with regards to Allgon City is disturbingly high."

'Sweet Jesus...'

A cold feeling settled in the pit of Ellen's stomach; her thoughts racing at a million miles a minute, while a steady diet of popular media provided all the mental imagery she needed as to the government's next logical response. Because when it came to an uncontrolled biological outbreak scenario on this kind of scale, the nuclear option tended to be a little more literal than most. Which, given their current circumstances, made her next question all the more pressing.

"How much time do we have?"

"Very little, I am afraid," Clank replied, not helping her growing sense of horror in the slightest. "For all intents and purposes, the city has already been lost, and there is little incentive for the local authorities to delay such measures any further."

"Exactly! Which is why you guys need to get out of there right now!" Ratchet insisted, not bothering to mask the desperation in his voice. "Get to the evac site at Higson memorial gardens, north side of the city. We're heading there to drop off a bunch of survivors, then doubling back to grab our ships so we can get off this planet. Think you can meet us there?"

"Might be a little difficult, what with us being eight storeys up and all," Angela snarked from where she was still crouched next to the receiver tower. Pistol gripped firmly in one hand and eyes raking across the rooftop for signs of any more Protopets, while occasionally stealing glances at the steadily climbing progress bar on her Wrist Com's active display. "I don't know about you two, but fighting our way back down to the ground floor again isn't exactly my idea of a good time."

Nor me_ Samus opinioned meekly, nervously raising a dainty servo. If Ellen still had her ship, then she could have just remotely piloted it here and-

"That's it!" Ratchet suddenly exclaimed, causing everyone else on the frequency to jolt in surprise. "I can just send my Star Explorer over on auto pilot to pick you guys up! Ellen, you've still got the manual tracking and control systems on your Wrist Com, right?"

Quickly checking her Wrist Com and bringing up the relevant program, Ellen was equal parts relieved and pleased to see that it wasn't being affected by the radio jamming frequency in the least. "Yeah, and everything seems to be working alright. I just have to switch the target ID over to your ship and activate the homing beacon, right?"

"Attagirl," he praised, bringing a faint smile to the redhead's lips. The airwaves briefly filled with a flurry of electronic chimes as he presumably typed away at his own Wrist Com before continuing once more. "Alright, the ship's on it's way towards you now. All you have to do is guide it in once it's close enough for your Wrist Com to pick up, then come meet us at the evac site once we get there."

Ellen opened her mouth to reply after a moment's hesitation, only to bite off a curse as various mounds of rubble began to shift across the crumbling rooftop. Shifting over to her HK22 Gun just as the latest wave of Protopets surged forth from virtually every nook, crevice, and surviving air duct like a living tsunami, before spamming self-targeting missiles like it was going out of style. Her voice betraying none of the overbearing tenseness she so keenly felt as Ellen desperately dodged between lunging strikes, trying to make sure every shot hit its mark as the blinking ammo counter in the corner of her helmet's HUD rapidly dropped to zero. "Sounds like a plan; we'll see you soon. Just try to stay out of trouble until then."

"Hey, you know me," Ratchet began, only for Clank to suddenly cut him off with an alarmed cry.

"Ratchet, behind you!"

"Wh- These guys again?! Don't they know when to quit!"

A brief burst of static filled the line, interspersed as it was with snatches of what sounded like roaring jets and heavy weapons fire, before Ellen could hear either of their voices again. The brief distraction almost costing her dearly as a few enterprising Protopets leapt forth from the vast scrum of bodies she was busy pumping missiles into, only to be plucked out of the air by some well placed shots from Angela's heavy pistol. Buying Ellen some breathing space to disengage and fall back towards the others at the rooftop transmitter, where it quickly became apparent that the radio jamming was coming back with a vengeance.

"G-ship -ing us. But do- rry I got -is!"

"-chet, -re you doing -th that Shee-"

The signal quickly deteriorated to the point that it was little more than garbled snippets of words and white noise, before finally cutting off altogether. Not helping Ellen's growing sense of unease in the slightest as she tried to re-establish contact while fighting off the next wave of fluffy horrors. "Ratchet? Say again, you're breaking up. Ratchet!"

"The signal's gone, Pearce," Angela yelled, rising from her crouch next to the transmitter and tossing one of her homebrew explosives into the press of bodies bearing down on them, "and so are we if you don't get your head back in the game right now."

Unfortunately she was all too right, because while Ellen was still fairly confident in Ratchet and company's ability to fend for themselves, the same could not be said for their own situation. Her weapons on the brink of running dry and the Protopets having practically overrun most of the rooftop to the point of driving them over the edge, were it not for the bomb finally going off with a widespread, arctic blast of super-cooled air. Spraying a majority of the horde with a fast acting substance similar to liquid nitrogen that practically flash froze whatever it touched in place, and turning a good number of Protopets into so many brittle ice sculptures that promptly shattered from a few good shotgun blasts. Which made mopping up the remainder a whole lot easier to handle, and with a few more instant ice bombs used to block off some of the more obvious breach points across the roof, gave Ellen the precious seconds she so desperately needed to gather her wits and take stock of their situation.

"Okay... The ship's on its way. There's a shitload of Protopets beneath our feet, itching to rip us limb from limb. And all I've got is..." She grimaced at the sheer number of red-hued 'no ammo' warnings that her Quick Select was feeding to her helmet's HUD, venting a sigh born of hopeless frustration. "Maybe two clips worth of ammo, if that, spread across a half dozen guns. How the hell are we supposed to hold out until it gets here?"

"I've got nine, maybe ten shots left at most," Angela added wearily, having spent a few moments checking her pockets before fixing the redhead with an expectant look. "Plus a couple of trip mines I was saving to rig the transmitter to blow, if you want 'em. How long till the ship gets here?"

Wait, you want to blow it up?_ Samus interrupted, circling around so that she was facing the lombax with optics wide and head tilted in obvious confusion. But why? Didn't you say that shutting down the transmitter wouldn't stop the Protopets from going crazy?_

"I did," Angela conceded with a sharp, if irritable nod. Passing the proffered mines on to a grateful Ellen, followed by gesturing towards the transmission tower. "It might already be too late for the city, but cutting the signal off at its source should hopefully stop any more Protopets being turned, or at least make them a lot easier to handle without the signal making them so aggressive. At any rate, it sure as hell can't make things any worse than they already are."

"And right now we need all the leverage we can get," Ellen agreed. Having finished setting up the pair of trip mines so that they covered either side of a miraculously still intact air conditioning unit, before briefly checked the running counter projected on her Wrist Com and jogging back towards the others. The flanking pair of Megaturrets dropped in her wake almost an afterthought as a steadily rising chorus of hisses and growls filtered up from below through multiple ruptured holes in the roof. "We've got just under six minutes before the ship gets here, plus a few more to figure out the best way to land the thing manually. Have you finished downloading that signal data yet?"

"Mostly," Angela replied, checking the slowly filling progress bar on her Wrist Com for the umpteenth time and scowling at the result. "Probably would have finished by now if it weren't for network security slowing everything down to a crawl, and I doubt the Protopets'll give me enough time to get the rest before our ride gets here."

"Whatever you've got, it'll have to do," Ellen replied with a shake of her head. Having positioned herself on the opposite side of the radio tower's base where she had a clear view over most of the rooftop, Bouncer in hand and reloaded for perhaps the last time. "I'm more worried about getting us out of here alive, and If taking down the tower will buy us a few more seconds, then I say we go for it."

But how?_ Samus questioned, idly zipping around Angela as she crouched down and began to disconnect her equipment from the tower's base unit at a rapid pace. Didn't Angela already give you the rest of her bombs?_

"She did," Ellen agreed, using her off hand to draw her Versa Blade and thumb the activation button before holding it aloft. Air visibly distorting from the high frequency, seismic vibrations given off by the heated edge as she experimentally swiped it back and forth. "But if my Versa Blade can cut through rock, then it should easily go through a couple of support struts, or at least damage the tower's internals. Which is why I'm giving it to you."

M-me?!_ Samus balked, optics widening as Ellen deactivated the knife and flipped it around, offering it to her hilt first. But... Why me? Angela-_

"Is going to be real busy for the next five minutes," the lombax interrupted as she stood back up and dusted off her jumpsuit, before drawing her heavy pistol once more as a thin data cable rapidly retracting back into her Wrist Com with an audible snap. "Sorry Samus, but you're the only one here who isn't armed, and right we need all the firepower we can get to keep the Protopets at bay."

As if on cue, the sounds of cracking ice drifting across the rooftop killed off any further conversation, and the trio immediately scrambled into action. Ellen quickly pushing the Versa Blade into Samus' unresisting, fumbling servos before joining Angela in covering the soon to be breached, frozen barriers with her grenade launcher. Which left the former infobot with little other choice than to clutch the knife to her comparatively tiny frame and simply go along with their ad hoc plan; darting towards the closest support strut and struggling to reactivate the Versa Blade's unique cutting feature as she shoved it against the unyielding steel beam. Her concentration fully absorbed on the task at hand, even as the ice finally gave way to a chorus of guttural roars that echoed across the rooftop, shortly followed by a multitude of explosions and sporadic gunfire that tore the foremost Protopets apart.

What followed were, perhaps, the longest six minutes of their lives.

Ellen's perception of the outside world quickly bled away as the horde fell upon them with single-minded fury, laser focused as she was upon keeping the tightly packed masses of fluffy horrors from overwhelming their position with what little firepower she had left. A veritable carpet of exploding Bouncer submunitions proving more than enough to keep the initial wave of monsters at bay, and a chance to toss Angela her carbine before the remainder came down upon them like the wrath of God. The lombax putting it to good use in picking off any stragglers that made it through Ellen's saturation bombing intact and, for a time at least, it looked like they'd actually be able to hold their own.

Any reprieve they may have had, however, quickly evaporated once Ellen's grenade launcher inevitably clicked empty. The sudden surge of Protopets spilling across the blasted rooftop in its absence catching them off guard in spite of Ellen's expectations, and allowing the frontrunners to get within biting range before she could back off and switch weapons. An extended burst from Angela just barely keeping them from lunging at the human's face, buying her precious seconds to bring her shotgun to bear on the crowd and start clawing back some breathing space with a constant barrage of electrified buckshot. But as time went on and their scarce supply of ammo dwindled, the Protopets gradually, irreversibly gained ground. Each wave advancing ever closer over the broken bodies of their fallen as weapons began to run dry one after another, gradually forcing the team to fall back towards the roof's edge where escape was all but impossible.

With nowhere else to retreat and a living tide of death bearing down on them from all angles, both human and lombax prepared to make a final stand with what little firepower they had left between them. Desperately fighting tooth and nail for every inch of ground and fully resigned to the inevitable, only for fate to seemingly intervene once more in the form of a distantly rumbling turbine and a much closer, groaning stress of bending metal. For while her companions had been fighting for their very lives, Samus had been exceptionally busy with her own task. Largely ignored by the horde in favour of much juicier targets, the little infobot had managed to slice her way through half of the radio tower's support struts unhindered. Leaving the entire structure teetering on the brink of collapse under its own weight as it swayed unsteadily in the afternoon breeze, just waiting for something to push it past the point of no return.

Something like the sudden arrival of a certain lombax's Star Explorer, and the downwash generated as it made a high speed, low altitude pass over their location, for example. The sudden gust of wind kicked up in its wake almost bowling over the defenders, but more importantly proving to be the radio tower's tipping point as it finally keeled over with a tortured screech of metal that rapidly gained momentum. The entire structure crashing down on the Protopet's side of the rooftop, crushing a good number under its weight, but perhaps more importantly, causing the remainder to... seize up, for want of a better term. Gone was the bloodthirsty, single-minded horde of horrors in favour of a stumbling, confused, and utterly disoriented mob. One that wasn't currently bent on slaughtering all in their path for however long the effect lasted, which was something Ellen intended to take full advantage of while she still could.

Shaking off her initial sense of surprised relief in favour of bringing up the relevant application on her Wrist Com, the redhead quickly took control of Ratchet's ship and brought it around so that it was hovering just above and behind their heads. The nose facing directly towards the gradually rousing mass of Protopets as it quickly descended, not even waiting for it to fully land before remotely triggering the canopy release and using her Jump Pack to reach the cockpit in a single, bounding leap. An unruly growling chorus followed in Angela's wake as she clambered up the opposite wing in a frenzy, boots momentarily struggling to find a grip on the smooth surface before practically diving into the passenger seat with a yelled 'go!'

The Star Explorer lifted off once more as Ellen took manual control, flipping off the weapon safeties and pitching forward so that she could bring them to bear on the rapidly recovering horde. The vicious mass of teeth and fur quickly gaining momentum with each passing second; any lingering effects from the signal's loss swiftly evaporating in the face of a single-minded determination that nothing would keep them from their prey. Not even the constant stream of fire from the ship's fusion laser cannons that Ellen was currently sweeping back and forth across the rooftop at close range in an attempt to keep them at bay. Samus barely managing to dodge their lunging bodies and slathering jaws as she zipped over the broken rooftop and resulting carnage, before darting inside the Star Explorer's cockpit just as the canopy started to close once more. Ellen wasting no time in yanking back on the stick and vectoring away from the now completely overrun rooftop, before levelling out and practically saturating the place with the ship's wingtip mounted torpedo tubes as a final parting gift.

Cracked, cratered, and riddled with gaping holes from the desperate battle they had fought across its surface, it was perhaps little surprise that the explosive barrage proved to be the last straw. The mall's already thoroughly weakened rooftop finally collapsing in on itself much like a giant sinkhole, swallowing the remaining horde in a maelstrom of shattered concrete and twisted metal that quickly disappeared from view in a choking grey cloud of debris. Ellen absentmindedly flicking the ship's wipers on in order to dislodge a solitary Protopet smearing a trail of saliva across the canopy as it tried to break in, but otherwise ignoring it in favour of keeping her eyes on the, by now, mostly obscured building. The top few floors apparently having followed suit and buckled under the sheer weight pressing down on them, if what little she could make out through the all prevailing dust clouds were anything to go by.

A few moments passed in relative silence, save for the background thrum of the ship's engines idling over. The occupants wrapped up in their own thoughts and attention fully focused on the desecrated mall that had almost been their grave, before Ellen finally released a shuddering breath and relaxed the death grip she had on the control stick. Shoulders slumping and limbs feeling all too heavy as the combat induced adrenaline high she had been riding for the past couple of hours inevitably crashed hard, and made only worse by the myriad of aches and pains from her recently healed injuries coming back to the fore. Angela not seeming to have fared much better if her gasping breaths and sweat-matted fur was anything to go by, along with the unreadable gaze she was directing towards the redhead.

"Pearce... the next time you get any genius ideas about playing hero..."

"I know," Ellen replied softly, though laced with an undercurrent of iron-clad determination. "Believe me, I never want to go through anything like that ever again."

"You and me both," the lombax agreed with a faint nod, before briefly turning her attention back to what was left of the Mega-Mall complex with a vented sigh. "We should probably get going. There's no telling how much time we have left before they raze the city."

"Yeah..." Ellen agreed, sounding both physically and mentally drained as she brought the Star Explorer out of hover mode and pushed the engines to cruising speed. "Let's just grab our boys and get the hell out of here. I've had just about enough of this place to last a lifetime."

Head darting back and forth between the pair in uncertainty at their subdued exchange, Samus finally plucked up the courage to voice her own concerns once the ship made one last lazy circuit of the crumbling mall before heading north at full speed. The abandoned shopping district quickly giving way to towering skyscrapers and chaotic airborne traffic as they crossed into what was left of downtown Allgon City, only to suddenly veer off course and begin orbiting the area. Um... Ellen? Aren't we supposed to heading to the evacuation site like Ratchet said?_

"No, not yet," Ellen replied, minutely shaking her head while keeping her eyes glued to the war-torn streets below. "Not until I know they're all safe, and definitely not while they're still up to their necks in trouble, if that last transmission was anything to go by."

"And how, exactly, do you expect to find them in all this mess?" Angela asked, gesturing tiredly and clearly not in the mood for arguing. "Comms still aren't working properly, and It's not like they can just put up a giant neon sign that says 'we're here' or something."

As if waiting for those exact words, fate appeared to play its hand in perhaps the most unexpected and bizarre manner possible. After all, it's not everyday you see the tumbling form of a giant, thirty feet tall sheep crashing through the lower half of what appeared to be a major bank's headquarters like a giant fluffy wrecking ball and annihilating everything in its path. Including the grav-train rails it appeared to be following largely by accident; bouncing between the surrounding buildings and tearing out vast chunks of masonry in passing as it slowly gained on a trio of train carriages that had clearly seen better days. Though that might in part be due to the trio of bulky, black-painted ships that appeared to be dogging said train every step of the way. Quickly becoming two as the woolly ball of doom smashed into the rear-most vessel, before crushing the flaming wreckage beneath its considerable bulk like so much tin foil.

Stunned silence once again filled the cockpit, with Angela openly gaping and Samus staring with optics wide in utter bewilderment at the sheer absurdity quite literally rolling past them far below. Ellen not faring much better herself, but ultimately proving to be the first to recover with an involuntary laugh born of disbelief as their collective gaze followed the trail of destruction until it eventually disappeared from view behind a pair of particularly tall skyscrapers. The redhead wasting no time in putting words to action as she rolled the Star Explorer over into a dive and poured on the speed as while angling down towards the monorail line. "Well, I'd say that's a big enough sign, don't you think?"

"I... You... What the hell was that?!" Angela spluttered indignantly, an accusing finger shakily pointing in the general direction of the bizarre spectacle that had just passed them by.

"Ratchet being Ratchet," Ellen answered dryly, yet with an undercurrent of fondness that seemed at odds with how hard she was pushing the ship in an effort to catch up. "Meaning he's probably bitten off more than he can chew, so what say we get down there and give him a hand?"

Abusing both the ship's airbrakes and landing thrusters to bleed off some excess speed, Ellen managed to pull up some fifty feet off the deck before opening up the throttle once more. Wingtips barely skimming past the still crumbling remains of several office buildings as she weaved through the urban jungle at high velocity, using what was left of the thoroughly mangled monorail line as a rough guide to help keep them on course. Though between the obvious trail of destruction that the giant sheep had left behind in its wake, and the Star Explorer's heavily modified, triple-boost engines, it wasn't exactly a challenge to catch up in swift order. Just in time to witness a slowly collapsing skyscraper as the hulking, woolly wrecking ball crashed directly through its lower half, and forcing Ellen to take a brief detour that saw them emerge from the urban sprawl directly parallel to the monorail line, with the train and its pursuers just barely in sight less than a mile ahead.

There they are!_ Samus exclaimed, unnecessarily pointing a single tiny digit at the rolling circus as it flickered between buildings. Angela mumbling something about 'crazy pilots' under her breath, but otherwise simply gritting her teeth and holding on for the ride as Ellen suddenly pulled back on the flight stick. Forcing the Star Explorer into a sharp climb that saw them briefly leaving the city streets far below, before kicking the rudder pedals over and inverting the ship into a descending corkscrew that brought them back on course for a swooping gun run that would take out the train's assailants wholesale.

Or at least that had been the plan. But the distinct lack of giant, runaway sheep, plus one of the dropships, meant that there was only a single black vessel to obliterate with an extended burst of laser cannon fire. Her head on a swivel as she circled around, ignoring the dropship's fiery demise and subsequent impact on the streets below in favour of reacquiring the other threats, yet finding no trace of either save for some damaged structures where the massive bundle of doom might have rebounded in passing. Had it bounced off course and gotten stuck in another building somehow, or maybe it had simply ran out of momentum?

Either way, the train seemed safe for now, and getting back in contact with her ground-bound counterparts was more important than questioning their lucky break. Something that came a whole lot sooner than expected as the ship's central console chimed to indicate an incoming audio-only call. One that was quickly accepted, and just as quickly devolved into a garbled mass of noise that made the cockpit's occupants collectively wince at the sheer volume, until Ellen could finally pick out Cash's distinct accent struggling to be heard over a cacophony of other voices in the background.

"Pipe down, the lotta ya! Can't talk to our friends up there if they can't bloody hear me!"

"Harding?" Angela questioned, though sounding more like a demand with her next words. "What the hell's going on down there?"

"And a fine day to you too, doc!" the cazar merc shot back with faux cheer. "Thanks for getting those bloody dropships off our backs, by the way. Could have done with you 'bout ten minutes ago, of course, but still! How're you lot holding up?"

"About as well as can be, given how much of a shit show we've been through," Ellen replied tiredly, cutting off Angela's most likely bitter retort with a raised hand. "But at least we're all in one piece, more or less, and it shouldn't be too hard to keep you covered the rest of the way from up here. What about you, any injuries?"

"I'm alright meself," Cash reassured her, despite his suddenly subdued voice suggesting otherwise. "But a lot of these people are hurting bad, and we're fresh out of medical supplies. The sooner we reach that evac site, the better their chances."

"What about Ratchet, and Clank?" the redhead pressed. A growing hint of worry creeping into her voice at the distinct lack of a certain lombax interrupting. "Actually, why aren't they in on this call? Did something happen to them?"

"Yeah... about that..."

"Cash..." Ellen began slowly, her flat tone one of resigned annoyance and creeping dread. "What did he do this time?"

She could almost picture the accompanying wincing as Cash audibly inhaled through clenched teeth. His next words halting and drawn out in the universally recognised tone of somebody bearing bad news. "Well, I'll tell ya... But you're not gonna like it."

He was right; she didn't. Not one tiny bit.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, 'HE JUMPED OFF THE TRAIN'?!"


So… remember when I said everything would be wrapped up in this chapter? Well, as it turns out, I'm terrible at cutting down on action scenes, and just couldn't do it without the whole thing coming across as either a major copout or just plain disappointing.. Which, unfortunately, means another split chapter and a longer wait until the gang are finally reunited once more. But on the plus side, at least I'm on the right track now and have a fairly decent idea of how to conclude this arc.

Updates are still likely to be on the slow side for the foreseeable future until such time I can find a way to catch up. But with the end of the pandemic in sight and things hopefully returning to some semblance of normal in the coming months, perhaps 2021 really will bring with it a happy new year. Thank you all once again for sticking with me, and hop you enjoyed the chapter for what it was.

Review replies:

Stephenieeiche10 - As do I. But unfortunately, drama has a nasty habit of finding you at the most inopportune moment. All we can do is plough through it the best we can, and remember that there's always light at the end of the proverbial tunnel.

Razor of DOOM - You know, it's funny reading your review once more with the benefit of hindsight since most of my views and speculations at the time with regards to the next Ratchet & Clank game closely mirrored yours. Fast forward a year and we now know for sure that it's not just a full blown sequel to the original timeline, but an excellent technological showcase for what we can expect in the years to come.

Soon as I can actually afford a PS5, Rift Apart is definitely going to the top of my most wanted list, and is probably the only game I would consider buying the console for as of right now. Also, I think it's safe to say that Christmas 2019 was a whole lot better than 2020, regardless of where you live. But at least we're still here to celebrate it, and with any luck, next holiday season will be a whole lot better.

SAK-96 - I might have gone a tad overboard, but I really wanted to sell the sheer scale of horror caused by the Protopet outbreak and its consequences. You're right though in that the city is pretty much beyond saving at this point, and everyone knows it. While our heroes may have their small victories, this is one battle they just can't win no matter how much firepower they bring to the table. The nuclear option is certainly looking a lot more favourable by the minute, though you'll have to wait for the next few chapters to find out for sure how this thing ends.

Bookwriter94 - I've certainly had more downs than ups this past year, but at least things are finally starting to getting better in more recent months. I haven't quite managed to wrap up the Damosel arc as of yet, but I'm pretty close, and all being well, will hopefully do the finale justice. Hope you liked the chapter!

Light Seeker 001 - Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think you might be slightly confused. 'Pearce' is Ellen's surname, and as you've probably noticed from her interactions with the other characters, Angela rarely ever uses anyone's first name when addressing them. It's kind of a subconscious defence mechanism to keep people at a distance and prevent her from getting too attached. Not surprising given what happened before her self imposed exile from Megacorp's reach.

So, to answer your questions in order; the only relationship between Ellen and Angela will be as tentative friends at most, and I have no plans for Ellen to leave Ratchet's side any time soon. Hope that helps!

Snow Wolf Alpha - Thank you, although I'm hoping to be a bit more consistent, if not frequent in my postings for the coming year. Bit annoying about the PM alerts though, given how heavily I'd been relying on them. Until it's fixed, I'm really going to have to start setting aside some time to clear my inbox on a regular basis so I don't keep people waiting. Either way, it's good to be back, no matter how sporadic it may be.

Lena de Strange - Hope you don't mind, but I've condensed my replies to your reviews down into one post. So in order:

1) I thought it was amusing, or at least a good play on 'way of the exploding fist'.

2) Fizzwidget's dialogue is tricky to write, but certainly fun to read.

3) To be fair, the Seeker Gun kind of got overshadowed by some of the more spectacular and flashy weapons in Going Commando, such as the Bouncer or Sheepinator.

4) Thank you! Guess that means I've got his character down right, or at least my interpretation of him anyway.

5) Had that level actually existed in Going Commando, Tank would have been the sort of boss I'd hoped to confronting Ratchet at the end. Not just a bullet sponge, but one that required using your wits and the environment to your advantage in order to beat him. Glad you liked him!

Cynthia R - Glad to hear you're enjoying yourself do far, and don't worry. By the end of this story, Qwark will most definitely get what's coming to him, with interest.

Firestar5277 - Well, you know what they say about life and lemons. I'm just trying to make the best of things, and with any luck, things will eventually turn out for the best in due time. Here's hoping I can get back into some form of semi-regular posting schedule. I really wanted the whole Damosel scenario to feel like a desperate, no win situation, and judging by both your comments and those of other reviewers, I seem to be on the right track. Though to be fair, given the sheer number and variety of foes they've been fighting against up until this point, I guess it really is just another day at the office for Ratchet and company.

Okay, that one actually cracked me up a bit. Guess it's my turn!

Did you hear about the Irish terrorist who tried to blow up a bus? Poor Paddy… his lips were burnt for weeks!

male - Quite.

dumb child - Really? How so?

uhh - What can I say? Ratchet is an ass man.

immature man - Actually, chapter 19 is the first instance where they have explicitly done anything more than heavy petting.