Eleventh drabble

~Original~

Category: Crossover, Humor, Crime(?), Sci-Fi

Drabble 11 _ Into the Nexus

(Prologue)

The first Ghostly Wail (not erased from the timeline or happened in an illusionary reality) shook Amity Park to the foundations and its echoes dissipated the clouds passing above the city.

However, its ecto-radiation, like a shock wave, propagated through Earth and space at the speed of light, taking days, weeks and months, before an ear that could perceive it would listen.

But listen it did, indeed.

Drones (deployed with the specific mission of patrolling the borders of the Federation and identify the presence of any anomaly after a certain dimensional incident) tapped into the signal of the Wail and relayed the discovery to the Federation central control, setting off two alarms: one for the power associated with the radiations and another for the fact itself that they were Ecto-radiation.

Thus, the four individuals who had handled said "certain dimensional incident" were contacted and filled in with the details of what the scientists of the Federation knew about ectoplasm and its origin (which was… not much to be honest).

The largest and loudest of them NOPEd vocally, fast and with as much gusto as he could. He had dealt with one too many ghost-related messes, thank you.

The only girl in the group was so tempted to go and investigate in person, but she had some negotiates to fix, so sadly she couldn't leave her galaxy.

That left only the oddest couple of sworn brothers in the Praxus Sector of the Polaris Galaxy… Who had nothing better to do at the moment, so they leaped at the chance to explore a "new" galaxy.

Once packed everything they needed and boarded their trusted starship, the pilot, an organic tiger-striped golden furred cat-like humanoid alien, looked at his co-pilot sat beside him. ‒ So pal, ready to embark into another adventure?

‒ I can not wait for it. After the last one, perhaps this time it will be… relaxing to go on a journey. ‒ The smaller beings bobbed his head, but his statement made the fur of the other stand on a end.

‒ Don't jinx it! ‒ The pilot scolded, revving the engine. ‒ We're talking about Halfas here! We didn't even know that there were still any around and the signal was a distress call! They're even more mythical than me! ‒ He puffed out, gesturing wildly as the ship took off.

‒ They are mythical in a different way from you. ‒ The other corrected, raising the metallic index of his three-finger hand. ‒ Your race retreated into another dimension to escape genocide, Halfas unfortunately had not the same luxury and were annihilated by their mortal enemies despite their best efforts. However, it is curious that the new sign of their presence is so distanced in time and space from the last documented evidence. Since the last of their kind had been murdered millennia ago, I doubt that the sender of the distress call is one of their descendants. Even if some of them had the oviposition ability, like the Cragmites that left Tachyon's egg behind, I doubt the unborn and the hatchlings would have resisted this long safe and undetected.

‒ Are you sure? From what the Terachnoids scientist said, Halfas could have many forms and subspecies. Despite how much we know of them, their creation was one of their closest guarded secret. Even more than the Lombaxes' Dimensionator! ‒ The furred alien pointed out, large ears twitching at the change of pressure due to the exit from the planet atmosphere.

‒ That is true, however despite having a longer lifespan than their pure subspecies, no Halfa could have survived that long hidden anyway. ‒ The co-pilot paused, hit by a thought. ‒ But maybe… if any one of them managed to put themselves in either cryo- or hyper-sleep…

‒ Did they even have that kind of technology yet? ‒ The other interjected, punching the coordinates in the control panel of their starship.

‒ With their many talents, I do not doubt it. Unfortunately I fear that even if any of them managed to escape the Nethers' first hunt that way, the following waves would have been difficult to avoid, while staying stationed in an affixed place. After all, their energy signature is rather peculiar. ‒ The robot hummed, calculating the probabilities. ‒ …Maybe that is the reason why one of them sent the distress signal from such a backward planet. They must have lied low. Like you unintentionally did until I crashed in your backyard. ‒ He commented with a smile.

‒ One of the best thing happened in my life. Where else would I have found a backup toaster? ‒ The Lombax pilot teased, earning an equally amused and exasperated huff from his companion-ney!- brother.

‒ Why did I leave the Great Clock to follow you, is a question I ask myself every time you do this. ‒ Said brother stated levelly, but with a slight playful shine in his green optics to make clear that he wasn't really thinking it.

‒ Because you would have burst a valve from sheer boredom if you stayed there, pal. ‒ The pilot shot back, punching lightly the other's shoulder.

‒ Sad but true. The Zoni are hardly a source of entertainment compared to you. ‒ The small robot retorted in a totally serous tone.

‒ Clank! You little… Aphelion, take the controls, I have a score to settle with my little brother! ‒ The Lombax dropped the joystick and leaped without hesitation at the robot with a war cry.

"As you wish Ratchet. Just don't rip my seat covers." A feminine voice replied as the duo playfully brawled in the cockpit. "I will reach the Space-Jumping Station in t-minus 10 minutes. Have fun!"

The trio (if you also count the ship) reached the general area where the distress call had originated and began their search for sapient life that could at least direct or give them info about the whereabouts of inhabited planets.

Aphelion didn't take long to locate a passenger ship and contact them via radio. Thankfully the multilingual program installed on her facilitated the translation process, as they asked in vague terms where refugees could easily find help and shelter… Which seemed a common question, because the other pilot pointed them a planet (along with the coordinates) without a second thought. They just warned them to stop by the planet satellite ("You can't miss it, it's the only one, huge and gray-whitish.") in order to receive directions for landing and disembarkation procedures, since the planet was strictly neutral and had precise immigration laws.

The trio thanked them, before logging out and Aphelion turned on the engines to reach their destination.

‒ Well, we may have found one of the reasons why the Halfa we are searching for managed to stay undetected and somehow safe before the distress call was issued. ‒ Clank observed, blinking his green optics at his brother. ‒ If they are there, that is.

‒ I think it's more likely than not pal, the guy at the radio said that this planet "Earth" is a safe port for all the races. Plus, you said yourself that Halfas give out a special energy signature, so it's easier to hide it if everyone else is different from one another too. We're the ones who will have a hard time to find them, even with your adjusted Rift Cracker. ‒ Beside him, the robot perked suddenly.

‒ Speaking of Rift Cracker, I have just detected another distress signal. ‒ He extracted a keyboard from a slot before him on the Aphelion and worked on it at absurd speed before the control panel ping-ed. ‒ It appears that you were correct, Ratchet. Earth is our destination. I managed to triangulate the origin of the call with just a precision of 10'000 km², unfortunately.

‒ Hey, it's already better than whatever we had before! Plus this way we can say where we need to go to the immigration. Maybe they already know about the problem if we wew able to pick the signal from a galaxy away. ‒ The Lombax tried to cheer him up.

‒ Of course. I am going to examine the area I triangulated in the meanwhile. ‒ Clank opened a window on the screen before him that showed a photo of the planet they were about to visit. ‒ …How curious.

‒ What is? ‒ Ratchet shot a glance with his emerald irises, raising an eyebrow.

‒ A little before the estimated date of the first distress call, Sigmund called me for a consultation for the Great Clock. Apparently there had been Time Anomalies on this planet, but they solved themselves with a post-it each.

‒ Come again? ‒ The pilot did a double-take at the statement.

‒ As soon as an Anomaly came up, either small or big, it just solved itself before Sigmund could intervene and, in the following instant, a glowing green post-it appeared out of thin air on the planet control panel, apologizing for the inconvenience. The only signature appears to be "CW". ‒ Clank explained.

"A rogue Zoni?" Aphelion guessed.

‒ Sigmund thought so as well, but something tells me that the Time Anomalies and the distress call are somehow linked. ‒ The ex-Senior Caretaker hummed, pensive.

"Solar System approaching. Initiate approach procedures."

In few minutes they came upon the third planet of the System and understood why the other pilot had told them that they couldn't miss its satellite: it was huge. And apparently there was also a large base built on the side that didn't face the planet.

"Incoming transmission from: Lunar Base. Do you accept the call?"

At their consent, a translated androgynous voice sounded in the cockpit.

"Here Lunar Base Preliminary Immigration Center, please state the intending landing site and reason for the visit."

‒ We are here on a mission on the behalf of the Central Govern of Polaris Galaxy. We received several distress calls from the continent south of the Magnetic South Pole¹* of your planet. Since the origin of said distress call is believed to be a species extinct in the whole universe, my companion and I were dispatched to investigate. ‒ Clank explained. There was a pause, before the worker on the lunar surface replied.

"Please submit your credentials and I'll send you the coordinates of the closest Immigration Center. My colleagues will aid your search. Don't mind the cloaking devices that will fly by your vessel to conceal your landing."

‒ You have our thanks. ‒ Clank threw a relieved glance at Ratchet, who smiled in return. ‒ May I ask you why a cloaking device is needed? ‒ He added, as he submitted his and Ratchet's curricula.

"The native population isn't commonwide informed of the existence of extra-planetary sapient life-forms. To maintain civil order, our organization deals with the immigration process itself and the procedures of integration to safely live on Earth. Often this includes providing cloaking devices for both starships and the immigrant, in order to "blend in"."

‒ Fascinating. I suppose this is one of the reason why many refugees were able to escape persecution and extinction. ‒ Clank mused aloud, before getting back on track. ‒ Have you received our transmission?

"Affirmative. I have already sent your vessel the coordinates and the cloaking devices. Have a safe travel." The connection dropped, leaving the three alone and waiting for said drones.

‒ We're lucky that we brought with us the Hologuise. ‒ Ratchet commented.

‒ Depends on how advanced robots are among the native sapient species. Otherwise I will be obliged to act as a glorified backpack during the investigation. ‒ Clank sighed.

‒ We could ask for alternatives in that case. They seem to be prepared for everything and everyone. ‒ The Lombax shot back, starting to follow the newly arrived drones to the landing site.

‒ Let us hope for the best, then. ‒ The robot conceded. Leaving the other to pilot Aphelion.

༼⌐■-■༽ (▀̿̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿)

At 504 Battery Drive (NYC) it was just the start of another Centurian day… as in: the new shift of the organization known as the Men in Black (MiB in short) took service.

One of the most (un)known agents of that branch (since it was the best kept secret in the universe, after all) had just walked in with a cheap-off cup of coffee and was about to head to his desk, when a short woman from the Immigration Section intercepted him.

‒ Hey J! I heard about the scuffle you had the other day with our "dear" counterpart. ‒ She called cheekily.

‒ Agent G, not you too! I already have the Pug who makes fun of me every time we meet, I don't need another pest. ‒ The African-American huffed in exasperation.

‒ Pest? Even if I'm the harbinger of good news? ‒ Agent G waved a tablet under his nose teasingly.

‒ What do you mean? ‒ J attempted to catch the tablet, but the woman took a step back with a grin. Fine, be that way. He thought crossing his arms, not pouting.

‒ A colleague of mine at the Lunar Base sent a warning about some hotshots coming here from another galaxy. And hear this: it's not just any galaxy, but the one that is commonly translated as Polaris. ‒ That piece of info made the man's eyes wide (and stop the pout).

‒ Polaris as in the galaxy that rotates around the center of the universe? ‒ The woman's grin and traded tablet (for the coffee cup) were the only answers. Accepting the piece of technology, J scanned the file, letting out an impressed whistle at the two curricula. ‒ What do they even want from Earth? And why did you bring up the Amity Fiasco?

‒ Because those hotshots came over after receiving a distress call from an alien species around that area. So you know what that means? ‒ She trailed, smug.

‒ That our situation overrules their "exclusive" field of expertise! G, that's genius! I owe you one! ‒ J clapped his free hand on her shoulder in gratitude and made to turn around and speed off to search for the newcomers, but the other agent called after him.

‒ Get me their signatures and Amity hero's one and we're even for Central Park too! ‒ The African-American whirled around in astounded and barely concealed eagerness.

‒ Consider it done! ‒ And he speed-walked across the lobby to catch his old fossil of a partner to enact their rightful revenge.

‒ How this will help us investigate Amity Park is still beyond me, fox. ‒ Agent K grumbled, walking beside his younger colleague to the underground parking lot.

‒ Because. ‒ J began strongly. ‒ The Treaty of Non-belligerence between us and those buffoons at paragraph 1.5, verse 7, states that if an alien species is involved, we can overrule their "turf" AKA interdicted zones. We could have done the same a week ago, if our sensor could have picked the signal of those unidentified aliens after they had gone invisible.

‒ And this won't blow up on our faces like before, how bonanza? ‒ K rose an eyebrow, judging.

‒ Because one of the guys we're about to meet is an actual robot with an inbuilt radar that can pick them? Or at least, that's what I get from its general specifics. ‒ J took another look at the tablet as they reached the waiting area just outside the zone of the parked starships.

‒ His. ‒ A voice interjected, making the humans look down at what looked like a walking toaster. ‒ I identify myself as male.

‒ …Uh, sorry man. ‒ J awkwardly replied, hoping that the robot's knowledge of humans structure didn't involve the concept of blushing. ‒ No offense.

‒ None taken, after all is common habit to refer to our "race" with gender neutral pronouns until otherwise stated. ‒ The robot waved off the apology, scanning them bee-searchingly. ‒ Are you the agents that your colleague believed would be able to assist us to navigate your planet customs?

‒ From the request you gave in your immigration forms, we believe so. ‒ K took over. ‒ We came upon some troubles in the same area that you indicated as the origin of the distress signal, but we weren't able to investigate further because of the lack of equipment. We wish to collaborate with you, since your specifics state that you have such technology.

‒ It is no problem at all. Ectoplasm beings are difficult to deal with. May I inquire about the "troubles" you met? ‒ The robot asked politely.

‒ We received a tip of an illegal trespassing on this planet, so we went to investigate. A group of a half-dozen or so of an unidentified alien species resisted the arrest and managed to vanish out of sight and our sensors. We inferred only that their goal had something to do with ectoplasm, so this how we guessed that our target may be the same. ‒ The old man explained as succinct as possible.

The robot's green optics seemed to widen (how could an inorganic face be so expressive?), before they turned focused. ‒ How did they look like? ‒ The pintsized toaster practically demanded.

‒ They were weird even for our standards and we've seen many weird things in our line of work! ‒ J interjected, before tapping on the tablet he still had on hand. ‒ Here's the sketch I did for our report. ‒ He turned the screen towards the robot, who froze.

Or, at least he did for a fraction of second, before he turned to the side to call loudly: ‒ Zickpoc, duovu xau, Iwposuyv waý ibwoccizo! Si bucaihuyvo ò wuà nzido lu xaivcy wovbibbuty.²* ‒ The language was unfamiliar, but apparently whatever he had said was enough to summon who had to be his filed companion, because they scrambled to reach their group. The newcomer was a short tiger-like biped, who, curiously enough, had a giant wrench attached to his belt.

‒ Kpo days luzo? ‒ He (at least from the timber of the voice) seemed agitated and kept sending glances at the agents.

‒ U Vocpozb ku pivvy ivcukuwicy. Wzyjijustovco byvy nuì i kikkui loss'Pismi. ‒ The robot pointed to the sketch and the feline's pupils pinpricked at the sight.

‒ Tozli! Dily i wobkizo us czilaccyzo wyzcicuso, ca bwuoni si bucaihuyvo. ‒ Without acknowledging the humans, the alien dashed back where he had come from.

‒ Wait! Where are you going?! ‒ J called, ready to pursuit the furred being.

‒ Do not worry agent. ‒ The robot was quick to reassure. ‒ My brother has merely gone to our ship to retrieve his transportable translator. I was the one who anticipated him while he was still searching for it.

‒ Oh. What was that all about then? ‒ The younger agent rose a brow. How could the two of them be brothers? Adoption?

‒ I was warning him of the situation. We already know the race you met. The rough translation of their name in your language is "Nethers". They usually live in another dimension, however after a certain incident, the separation between words has thinned significantly. One of the reasons our Federation was able to pick the distress signal in the first place is that they were monitoring the edges of the Polaris Galaxy for portals to their dimension. ‒ The inorganic explained. ‒ You were right in your assumption that their goal is ectoplasm: for Nethers it is the most sought delicacy, so much that in Polaris it is considered a contraband good. ‒ He paused, almost solemn. ‒ Unfortunately that substance is also what the race that sent the SOS is made of.

‒ So these Nethers are hunting someone to eat them? ‒ K looked unfazed, but his eyes glinted in disgust.

‒ Most likely. The endangered species was commonly known as "Halfa"… and it was hunted to extinction whenever Nethers or poachers came upon them. ‒ The robot stated. ‒ We need to find the halfa and apprehend the Nethers in order to protect them. Depending on the situation we will probably have to relocate the former afterward, to avoid endangering further your planet.

‒ Let's not be haste, we still need to find them in the first place. ‒ J was still reeling from the revelation of genocide. He had hoped that the last time he had to deal with that kind of shit had been with Boris the Animal and the Boglodites.

‒ Yeah, that's gonna be a pain in the tail. ‒ The furry had just come back to hear the last statement, along with an interesting earpiece around one of the fluffy appendage. ‒ Sorry for leaving you hanging. Name's Ratchet.

‒ Oh, apologies. I forgot to introduce myself as well. My name is Clank. It is a pleasure to meet you. ‒ The toaster greeted.

‒ Don't worry, it happens to the best of us. I'm agent J and this is my partner K. ‒ He turned to the organic alien. ‒ As we were saying to your… brother, we're here to help you kick ass and take names.

‒ …We're gonna work along just fine, you and me. ‒ The newly dubbed Ratchet grinned almost maniacally.

‒ Oh dear. ‒ Clank could only comment worriedly.

¹* Fun fact: what we call the "Magnetic North Pole" is in fact the South! Think about it: since it attracts the North pole of a compass, it's the opposite, isn't it?

²* NB: This isn't a button smash, I made a sort of code to create this "language". I had a ton of fun while I made it, so I'd like to throw the gauntlet to anybody who feels up to the challenge. I'll give you the first tip: "Zickpoc" stands for "Ratchet". Have fun!

A/N. FEAR NOT CITIZEN! This is only the introduction! (Please read it with Cpt. Qwark voice.)

While I did get some votes on Tumblr, I felt that doing only one take of this three ways crossover would be… severely lacking on my part, so! From here the story splits in two:

1) Shivers AU

2) Everybody wants to be a… AU

Since FFnet has some… limitations with linking stories in a series, I will have to post the chapter alternating between the Aus (thing that I despise doing, btw, it breaks the continuity and could cause confusion).

Or should I post two completely new stories with this same introduction? This way I could also add the appropriate crossover selection… Mmmmhh, This is quite the dilemma. I'll keep you posted to let you know. (҂◡̀_◡́)ᕤ (I accept suggestions, anyway.)

What do you think? I hope I got everybody's character and slangs right, since I watched the MiB trilogy in Italian for ages (same for the original R&C PS2 trilogy, but I got to follow the Future Saga on Utube in English since I don't have the consoles, so I think it balances the odds).

Trivia Time: Did you know that I had the crossover between MiB and Danny Phantom planned since 2016? But then R&C: Into the Nexus came and my inner muse prompted me to outline the similarities between it and the DP universe and what would have happened if the Nethers had come to Amity Park.

I shelved the both of them for a while, at least until the other day the new R&C was revealed ["Rift Apart" (that comes out today June 11th!) that I will shamelessly watch on Utube as well, since the PS5 has a ridiculous price and occasion to be found in the stores].

I went searching for the R&C crossover (since I managed to finish my previous Drabble), but then I met again the plan for the MiB one and… the plot was roughly similar and it would have been a pity to either discard one or write both that were destined to be the same. Thus… Why not unite them? After all, two of them are already about aliens, so it was a match made in heaven! 〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜

Thank you for bearing (and supporting) my rambling, I hope you liked it so type you soon!

[KuriMaster13: Thank you for your support! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.

The DxS was something that happened spontaneously, I like reading romance sometimes, but I'm not sure I'm able to write it very well, so I'm happy you liked it!

"Sam Tasma" is a nice take for her hero name, but I don't think that she would really stand a pun in my AU, as probably would the others (besides, it's Danny's shtick xD).

Thank you for the suggestion anyway!

Dp-Marvel94: Thank you! I thought a while of what would Jazz be able to do, at first it was something similar to the Ghost Writer, then it evolved into this version, I'm glad you liked it!

This kids have so much repressed trauma that they could found Jazz's university taxes and probably even the pension, if she charged them whenever she psychoanalyze them. They deserve to be able to talk about it sometimes.

Hope you'll like this triple crossover as well!]