Chapter II
"This… doesn't look good."
Rivet stares out her cockpit window, eyes wide with dread, as she takes in the hundreds of Blarg warships surrounding Novalis. And out from the hangars of these warships zip little Blarg fighters that no doubt could pack a punch of their own despite their small size. Then there are the carrier vessels also leaving those same hangars, headed for the planet itself.
Klunk wastes no time in ripping her a new one.
"I told you this was a bad idea, squishy. I told you that there would be a lot more Blarg than either of us could possibly handle— but did you listen? NO."
Rivet lets out a drawn-out sigh, really not wanting to get into an argument with her new… acquaintance? Close enough. "Well, we can at least scope out the situation. That way, when we bring that infobot to the Rangers, we'll also be able to tell them what they'll be up against—"
A violent tremor ripples through her ship, followed by one of the wings exploding.
"Well, that's just great!" Rivet grips the steering wheel harder, her hands breaking out into a sweat. The Lombax grits her teeth, focusing her gaze on the planet ahead.
"Fatal crash imminent," the ship's computer announces, its voice devoid of emotion. "Would you like to record your last will and testament?"
"Not today!" Rivet hits the mute button, effectively silencing the computer. "You might wanna grab onto something," she goes on, glancing over at her clearly-still-annoyed robotic companion briefly, before whipping her head back towards Novalis. Flames stretch out from a centre point just in front of the cockpit window, indicating that they've hit the planet's atmosphere. "It's gonna be one heck of a ride."
Thick, white clouds obscure Rivet's field of view, and so she has her fingers crossed that she doesn't accidentally fly into a mountain and get both herself and Klunk killed. Thankfully, the clouds finally clear up, and the feline can see the tall mountain peaks below— as well as the cities situated between them being bombarded by heavy artillery. Rivet tilts the steering, aiming for the clearing atop a small cliff partially protected by the mountain peaks lining it. If she times it just right in pulling the steering up, then she should be able to slow down the ship's descent— at least by a small margin.
"Three… two…"
"Why are you counting?" Klunk hisses, his eyes narrowing as he glares daggers at her.
Rivet ignores him for the moment. "… one!" She pulls up hard on the steering, and the ship's nose tilts towards the sky. Three seconds later, and the glass of the cockpit window shatters. Mounds of dirt billow into the cockpit, some of the stuff getting into Rivet's mouth. "Bleh!" The Lombax spits it out, coughing and gasping for air. "You alright over there, Klunk?"
The little bot in question had been buried under a particularly large pile of soil in the crash. He pokes his head up out of the dirt, and he doesn't look the slightest bit pleased at the moment. "I have been better," Klunk answers, his seemingly permanent scowl deepening.
"Sorry about that. Lemme getcha outta there…"
Rivet starts digging with her hands, scooping the unwelcome earth away from Klunk's trapped body.
Rivet and Klunk stand side by side— both taking in the heavily battered, very torn up, and still smoldering hunk of metal that just earlier today used to be a ship. Rivet has fixed many an awful wreck throughout the years. It was her job as a ship mechanic, after all.
But this…
This ship— or rather, what's left of it— is a lost cause. Even with the proper tools and time, there's no way she'd ever be able to get it up and running again. Rivet sighs again, turning around to observe the literal warzone situated in the valley below. Buildings that once stood tall and proud are now nothing more than charred stubs and craters. The once luscious deep green trees sprouting the sprawling grassy land below are either now being consumed by flames, or are nothing more than blackened, bare husks of their former selves. Swarms of Blarg fighters swoop in intermittently— either razing the ground with their wing-mounted laser cannons or lobbing a couple of missiles from the launchers bolted to the undersides of said wings.
The small stream that cuts through the middle of the town is black with billowing ash from the destruction.
Rivet sees no civilians down there. Only Blargian robots blowing patrolling the area— she can only hope that the inhabitants of this town were evacuated in time. Her stomach knots up sickeningly at the strong possibility that this may very well not be the case.
"We'll have to go down there and see if there's a ship we can, err… borrow."
Out of the corner of her eye, Rivet can see Klunk giving her a skeptical look. "I think the word you are looking for," he counters, "is 'steal.'" Before the feline can protest, the silver bot continues, "So far, this is the first sign of intelligence I have seen from you today, squishy."
Rivet glares at him, growing a little fed up with his attitude. "You really have a low opinion of us organics, doncha?"
"Oh? You just noticed?"
Rivet closes her eyes and shakes her head. Focus. Focus, dang it. She opens her eyes and, ignoring Klunk's earlier words, tells him, "While I was repairing you back on Veldin, I noticed you've got a magnetic mount on your back— kinda like the one I have on the back of my jumpsuit." The Lombax turns around and points with her thumb to the aforementioned piece of metal on the back of her shirt.
"No," Klunk says immediately. "No. I will not be subjected to such humiliatio—"
"Hey, if you wanna waltz into that battlefield all exposed and vulnerable to enemy fire," Rivet shoots back as she turns back around to face the small robot, pointing to the warzone of a valley below, "be my guest. But just so you know, you're not gonna last five seconds down there."
Klunk growls, clenching his fists in obvious annoyance. He then huffs, letting his head fall slightly in defeat. "Fine. I do not like it in the slightest, but your logic is… sound, Lombax."
"I have a name, you know," Rivet mutters, shaking her head again. Nevertheless, she extends her hand to Klunk— who takes it after a second of hesitation. She curls her fingers around his little metal hand and swings him around. There's a soft click as her magnetic mount meets his. Once she's sure that her companion is secure, Rivet approaches the weapons vendor that's sitting close to the edge of the cliff. Surprisingly, it's still intact despite all the destruction erupting throughout the valley.
She presses the little green button on her glove (which is next to the blue one that controls her garage door) to bring up a holographic display of her current bolt count.
Five thousand bolts.
Well, it's better than nothing, she decides. The feline reaches up and presses her fingers to the glass half-sphere on the top of the vendor and steps back.
Rivet twirls her new Dual Raptors, ready to put them to the test. They're both blue, pistol-like rapid machine guns with silver trim. Lining said trim is a series of small, lights that slowly cycle through different colours. The grips are also made of a silvery metal, and wrapped around each one is a grey leather covering.
The young Lombax steps onto the circular yellow platform hovering by the edge of the cliff— only to nearly lose her balance as the thing jerks down towards the ground. "Whoever built this thing should've at least added some safety rails too," she comments, her voice tinged with mild annoyance.
As soon as the elevator reaches the bottom of the valley, Rivet hops off. The smell of scorched plant matter is much stronger now, and thin clouds of ash billow from somewhere beyond her field of vision— blowing right into her face and lungs. The Lombax coughs a bit, starting to feel somewhat nauseous, and then focuses her gaze on the nearest swarm of robots.
They're small, yellow things with small jetpack thrusters on their backs and big ebony-coloured beaks that could easily shatter bones. Atop these beaks, just at the point where the neck ends and the beak begins, sit two green donut-shaped eyes with yellow frames surrounding them. The droids wander around in wobbly circles, sometimes stopping and quacking at fellow bot, who would then quack back.
Rivet points her Dual Raptors at the bot closest to her, and pulls down on the weapons' triggers. From the Raptors' nozzles burst blazing pellets of varying colours. Surprisingly and pleasingly enough, these guns don't have that much recoil.
As soon as the rounds make contact with their target, the bot explodes into a million pieces of shrapnel.
"Ha! Take that!" Before the rest of the swarm has the chance to react, Rivet is already mowing them down with her brand new twin weapons— and soon enough, they're nothing more than piles of half-melted metal and sparking circuits. "Looks like they had quite the feast of lead."
"… that… that was terrible," Klunk remarks, the incredulity in his voice shining clear.
Rivet just shrugs— she then tele-equips her Mallet, and waits. Her bolt magnetizer quickly sucks up the bolts that managed to survive what their previous owners did not. Once that's done, she switches back to her Dual Raptors and sprints across the battlefield toward the next flock of baddies. The young Lombax scythes through them as well, and in the space of less than a minute, there's nothing left of the robots— save for their smoldering remains.
Up ahead, Rivet spies a small pack of bigger— and also yellow— bird-like robots. Additionally, these particular bots have much smaller beaks and arms— one of which has a cannon in place of a hand. Much like their minute counterparts, however, they have jetpack thrusters bolted to their backs. One of the robots spots Rivet, and whips the arm equipped with the cannon towards her. From its chunky nozzle bursts a large, silvery sphere with blinking red lights lining it.
"Oh, geez!"
The projectile soars through the air in an arc, and as soon as it makes contact with the ground, shatters into a massive ball of flames. Thankfully, Rivet is too far away for the flames— or the resulting shrapnel— to hit her, as she dived behind a jagged boulder just before the bomb had detonated.
But she can still feel the heat from the explosion.
The feline switches over to just one of the Dual Raptors, and checks the holo-gauge to see how much ammo she has left. 167 rounds. So I've got plenty to spare. She steps out from behind the boulder, points her Raptor at the nearest bot, and pulls down on the trigger. Whether it's due to the robot's own ammunition or something else, the resulting explosion winds up stretching far enough to reach another bot who had wandered a little too close— leading to a chain reaction as droid after droid bursts into flames.
Ten seconds later, and there's silence. Rivet, who'd taken cover again after firing that single shot, peers around the boulder. "Looks like that left a mark."
Klunk merely hums in response.
Rivet jogs towards the building up ahead, and clambers over the small ridges rising from it that also double as staircase steps. She tele-equips her Mallet, knowing that if she encounters any baddies in the actual building itself, she'll be better off taking them out at a close range.
The feline grips the handle of her weapon tightly as she steps into the open entrance of the building. Two of the smaller bird-like bots drop down from the ceiling, quacking angrily at the sight of her. Rivet lunges at the nearest one and slams the head of her Mallet on the robot's beak. She doesn't stop there— the Lombax pulls back and then swings, this time bringing it down on the droid's forehead. The thin sheet of metal crumples with each blow, and finally, the automaton itself collapse to the ground, sparking violently.
Rivet wastes no time in making sure that the bot's buddy meets the same fate.
Rivet stands half-bent over the latest robot she's destroyed, her hands resting on her knees as she pants heavily from exhaustion. She tilts her head to the left, blue eyes locking onto the battered, partially charred ship that— just moments earlier— was being bombarded by those bigger bird-bots.
The young Lombax feels Klunk clambering off her back, and he walks alongside her as she approaches the ship. She can feel the soft waves of heat wafting off the heavily damaged vessel.
Geez, I hope whoever's inside is okay…
"Hello?" Rivet calls, cupping her mouth with her hands. "Anyone alive in there?"
The rectangular door on the back of the ship tilts open, the top end of it hitting the ground with a thunk—evidently, if its design is anything to go by, this door also doubles as a ramp. Out from the inside of the ship, and onto the ramp, steps an elderly Novalian who's looking particularly terrified. They hold their wooden cane out in front of them, brandishing it like a weapon as their eyes flick from Rivet to Klunk, and back again.
"Please don't hurt me," the Novalian whimpers fearfully. "What are you? Mercenaries? Torturers? Assassins?!I'll tell you anything!" From behind their back peers an infobot, and the Novalian suddenly grabs it by its neck, and thrusts it towards the duo. "Here, take my infobot! It's all I've got left!"
"Whoa, whoa! We're not assas—"
Klunk cuts Rivet off by saying, "Hold on. We should see what is on the infobot."
The infobot hovers towards them, uncertainly, and then opens its mouth— the screen inside expanding. The recording stored on it plays, and Rivet's expression grows more incredulous by the second.
And then, finally, the silly commercial is over.
"… remind me why we're trying to find him and the other Rangers again?" Rivet looks over at Klunk, who now wears an equally incredulous look on his face.
"The poor quality of that commercial aside," Klunk pipes up after a moment, "it seems that Captain Qwark is currently in Metropolis. It is possible that the rest of the Rangers might be there as well. This is assuming, of course, that this commercial was shot recently."
"I have no idea, honestly," the Novalian tells them. "But I heard that the next Galactic Ranger tryouts will actually be taking place there." A pause. "Wait, why are you two looking for them, anyway?"
"It's a matter of galactic importance," Rivet answers, settling her gloved hands on her hips. "And y'know, that does make sense— I think I did hear Cora say something about travelling to another planet to continue the tryouts." Klunk stares up at her with an air of puzzlement, so the feline clarifies as a mild bitterness enters her voice, "I participated in the tryouts they were holding on Veldin. But I didn't exactly make the cut, where Qwark was concerned, anyway."
"In any case, we will need a ship if we are to get to Kerwan." Klunk turns to look up at the Novalian, who seems to have relaxed a little, now that they know these two aren't going to hurt them. "Can you provide us with one?"
"Yes, but—" the Novalian's eyes flick up towards the sky for a moment. "Those Blarg fighters have been shooting down a lot of the escape transports. They'll probably shoot you down too."
Rivet's lips curl into a frown, and she tilts her head up slightly, observing the destruction taking place in the partially cloudy, blue skies. Off in the distance, she can see a trail of little dots— most likely the escape transports— being blasted to smithereens by the aforementioned Blarg fighters. And then she spies what appears to be an old fighter jet hangar sitting atop a waterworks building.
"Is there still a fighter jet in that hangar up there, by any chance?" Rivet asks the Novalian, pointing to it.
"Possibly— though I don't see what good it will do," comes the answer. "No one's been in there for years. I'm not sure if it can still fly…"
"Then I'll make it fly."
"Oh dear," Klunk mutters, shaking his head. "Should I be worried?"
Rivet turns around to face him, shrugging. "Got any better ideas, bolts? Look— if I can get that jet back up and running, at least we'll stand a chance of ending this invasion and getting to Kerwan."
"True…" Klunk pauses. His crimson eyes narrow, and his jaw tilts into a scowl. "Wait. What did you just call me?"
Rivet smirks, and reaches out— wrapping her fingers around Klunk's hand and flinging him around onto her back. "If you're gonna call me 'squishy' all day, then I might as well give ya an annoying nickname too— bolts." The silver Lombax then turns to the Novalian, who's fidgeting nervously as they watch the Blarg fighters zipping across the sky. "You should probably get to someplace safe in the meantime. If you stay out in the open for much longer, you're gonna get blasted by something."
The Novalian nods quickly, their eyes flicking towards her. "Just… please. Save my planet."
Rivet gives them a small, reassuring smile. "You can count on us."