Author's note:

Hey everyone; it's been quite a while, hasn't it?

First of all, let me apologise for taking so damn long, and for keeping you all in the dark these last several months. Things still aren't going so well on the home front, and as it stands right now, I'm facing the double whammy of sweeping redundancies at work and my mother experiencing heart problems that may require surgery, depending on the test results. Thankfully nothing too serious as yet, but it's not exactly helping my stress levels one bit, on top of lord knows how much other crap life is throwing my way right now.

This has, perhaps unsurprisingly, put a bit of a damper on my writing time, and left me in a seemingly endless cycle of terrible drafts and constant rewrites that seem to go nowhere fast. I had hoped to at least get Damosel covered and done with before moving on, but given how much trouble the latter half is giving me, I thought it best to simply release what I've got so far and post the remainder once it's ready, as opposed to making you all wait any longer. It's… honestly not my best work, but hopefully it'll be enough to tide things over now, and prove this story is far from dead.

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 50

Damosel in Distress

Allgon City, Damosel

Bogon Galaxy

G2.17.100 Galactic calendar

1:15pm local time

Boasting one of the largest, most integrated public transport networks ever conceived, it was perhaps little surprise that Allgon City was both capital of commerce and a major commuter hub for a good third of the planet. The unique grav-train network, working in conjunction with locally developed, dimensional folding portal technology, making rapid, long distance transit a breeze, and the use of private air cars a relative rarity. While the well laid out street plans, with expansive pedestrian walkways, wide open plazas, and botanical gardens acting as the gateways between community hubs, made for a stark contrast with the ultra modernist, metal-plated aesthetic characterised by much of Allgon's buildings. Sleek lines and smooth curves reflecting the afternoon sun in such a way as to make it look like the city itself was shining, much like the beacon of progress and prosperity it strove to be.

Ironic then, that those same such qualities would ultimately lead to the city's destruction.

With most of the population reliant upon public transport and local authorities slow to respond, what could have been a containable outbreak under other circumstances quickly ran unchecked and rapidly spiralled out of control. Citizens who might otherwise have been evacuated, or fled by their own means via air car, rapidly found themselves under siege in their own homes and with little prospect of rescue. The open plan streets allowing their newly purchased pets turned hyper-aggressive killing machines to swarm one neighbourhood after another en masse with ease, and making any attempts at stemming the ever expanding tidal wave of blue death a grim prospect at best. The airwaves fraught with a constant stream of frantic, garbled transmissions; panicked orders, terrified screams, and bestial snarls erupting across every comms channel as the chaos continued to grow by the minute. Interspersed as it was by a constant backdrop of gunfire, muzzle flashes, and muffled explosions throughout the city; creating a morbid tapestry for those viewing the hellish landscape from above, and a stark reminder of what lay ahead of them.

"My God..." Ellen whispered in horror, finally breaking the stunned silence that had settled over the cramped cockpit of Angela's scout ship shortly after entering the atmosphere. "I knew it was bad, but..."

She trailed off as another explosion lit up the sky just off to their right, taking the top half of a skyscraper with it. A pair of aerospace fighters rapidly banking away from the collapsing mass of metal and glass as it folded in on itself like a house of cards, before diving into a strafing run on some unseen target further beyond. It was a scene that repeated itself time and again as what few military grade ships the local planetary defence forces had to offer continually bombarded areas that had presumably been already lost, or to otherwise keep the encroaching Protopet hordes in check. Leaving what few personal air cars and ships there were to flee and otherwise choke the skies; getting in each other's way and making any attempts at organising an evacuation that much harder. Along with their team's chances of linking up with Ratchet and company, wherever they might be, let alone actually doing anything about this whole mess.

"Yeah... I know," Angela replied quietly a few moments later. The geneticist clearly shaken by the sheer scale of what the Protopet outbreak, yet still determined to push on regardless as she continued to bob and weave the ship through the constant stream of air traffic crossing their flight path. "Still don't know what you and Ratchet hope to achieve here, though. Especially since we still can't reach him or the others, and have no idea where any of them even are right now. Unless either of you know any different."

Samus shook her head at the lingering question, opting to answer on Ellen's behalf, given how out of it the human still looked. Not with the local communications network in meltdown. We might have better luck with short range, point to point comms, but in order to do that..._

"We'd have to be close enough in order to pick up their signal in the first place," Angela finished with a frustrated growl, veering around a large freighter hastily taking off near to what looked like a municipal building of sorts. "Which means finding somewhere to land that hasn't already been overrun and going in on foot. Not to mention dealing with who knows how many Protopets, now they've had a chance to freely breed for hours on end. Am I the only one who sees a problem here?"

"You think I don't know that already?" Ellen snapped back unexpectedly, startling Samus from her comfortable perch on Ellen's lap. "You think I actually want to face those things again after all that crap we went through on Grelbin?"

The redhead sighed deeply, the sudden burst of anger bleeding away into helpless frustration as she continued. "The smart thing to do, the sane thing to do, would be staying the hell away from this planet and letting the local authorities deal with this mess. But I can't. I can't just walk away from this; not when we've already come this far, and not when there's even the slightest chance we can make a difference down there. I just... can't..."

A pregnant silence briefly settled over the cockpit once more, until Angela broke it a few moments later. A wistful chuckle escaping her lips, and words tinged with reminiscence.

"Should have know you were an idealist, Pearce, just like the other one... Just like I used to be, back before everything went to hell." The lombax paused, seemingly lost in thought as she brought the scout craft into a shallow orbit around the city, before deigning to speak again. "You know what? Screw it. Like you said, we've already come too far to back out now, and we still need to find your idiot boyfriend anyway before we can leave. So... anybody found a good landing spot yet?"

Actually..._ Samus spoke up hesitantly, fiddling with a holographic map projected from Ellen's Wrist Com, I think I might be able to help with that. I started logging the transmission sources for all these signals, and most them seem to be coming from the Western and central areas of the city, where the fighting's thickest. But there's a few areas on the East side that's fairly quiet; mostly upmarket residential suburbs from what I can tell, and hopefully already evacuated if the people living there have any sense_

"Sounds like our safest bet for now," Angela agreed, arching the ship over into a shallow port turn and heading East at full power. "Let's just hope you're right."

It was hard going, fighting against the constant stream of air traffic and narrowly evading the occasional midair collision, oftentimes by the barest of margins. But with some creative manoeuvring and nap of the earth flying on the final leg, a few minutes later saw them touching down amidst the ruins of the ironically named gated community of Tranquillity Heights. A self contained, well to do neighbourhood, typically populated by career professionals, socialites, and the comfortably rich; now reduced to little more than just another war zone in a city already on the brink of collapse. A distant chorus of screams, bestial snarls, and the occasional staccato burst of gunfire greeting him from the very moment Angela unsealed the cramped cockpit's canopy and vaulted over the side. Providing a disturbing background ambience as she stripped off her thick winter gear and mask. Allowing Samus to float out and dismount with much more poise than Ellen's stiff frame, before tossing the bundled clothing back inside once they were clear and getting a good view of their immediate surroundings.

Leaving the ship behind on what had likely been a meticulously well kept and manicured front lawn before everything went to hell, Ellen cautiously took the lead as they pushed through a decorative flowerbed and the thoroughly demolished perimeter fence beyond. Cautiously stepping through the gaping hole left behind by a crashed air car with her carbine sweeping to the left while Angela covered the right side, and taking in what was left of the deserted cul-de-sac with a shared grimace. Abandoned ground vehicles, strewn belongings, and more than a few bloodstains decorating the marble paved road providing a fairly good idea of what had happened here. Although the distinct lack of bodies, Protopet or otherwise, was more than a little worrisome, and raised the kind of questions that were probably best left unanswered. Especially given how... voracious the creatures they had previous encountered on Grelbin were, not to mention relentless.

"Looks like they got overrun while waiting for evac," Ellen murmured quietly, switching to her shotgun and suspiciously eying the closest building. "Poor bastards probably didn't even realise what was happening until it was too late."

Some of them might have gotten away or hidden somewhere_ Samus pointed out with some small measure of hope, despite her dimmed optics indicating otherwise. I mean, these people probably had a lot of money. Wouldn't they have panic rooms, or something?_

"Maybe..." Angela allowed with a weary sigh and slow shake of her head, "but I doubt it would have helped. Not if the outbreak's already spread this far."

Nevertheless, they checked anyway. Ellen leading once more with carefully measured steps and senses straining for the slightest hint of movement, not daring to take her eyes off their surroundings for a millisecond as they gradually made their way towards the cul-de-sac's entrance one house at a time. The end result never really in doubt as they checked the more intact and accessible of the fairly palatial residences, with the few panic rooms uncovered having already been abandoned or otherwise torn apart by marauding Protopets, before making themselves scarce in turn. Which left little else to do bar forcing their way through the enclosed community's surprisingly still intact gates and keep moving; heading towards wherever the greatest concentration of rising smoke and noise lay upon the horizon. The sheer scale of destruction and utter lack of any life whatsoever along the way weighing heavily upon all of their minds, and furthering Ellen's growing doubts as to whether there would even be anybody left to save by the time they got there.

Background noise aside, however, things were eerily quiet as they made their way along an access road that paralleled the coast. The neat rows of upmarket properties soon giving way to an ocean view and what had to be a private marina of sorts for the residents, with berths for numerous luxury yachts and pleasure craft, of which many were currently empty. If nothing else, it gave the redhead some small measure of hope that Samus might have been partially right; that their absence was an indicator at least some people had gotten away in time. But beyond that there was little else to see, save for the scattered leftovers of a panicked evacuation that grew ever denser the closer they got towards the epicentre.

A few blocks later saw them on a side street past some waterfront warehouses and associated businesses, where the first real sign of the Protopets' presence made itself known in the form of a body lying face down and unmoving. The bite marks, blood and... missing pieces making it almost impossible to guess their species, let alone relative age or gender. But given how fresh it was, and the fact they hadn't encountered any other corpses up to this point...

A sudden low growl, barely on the edge of hearing was the first warning they got. Angela's ears pricking up and swivelling towards the perceived source; her grip tightening and pistol's muzzle following a half second later as the sound steadily grew in volume, only to be swiftly joined by more in quick succession from seemingly all around them. The shadows cast by tall buildings on either side of the narrow street making it difficult to pick out just where exactly they were, but the lombax knew a trap being sprung when she saw one, and Ellen was clearly on the same wavelength given her immediate response. The armoured human having positioned herself with slow deliberation so that she was now covering their rear; her entire frame tightly coiled and ready to spring at the slightest hint of trouble.

"They were baiting us..." Ellen muttered under her breath; eyes tracking the vaguely round and fluffy shapes emerging from their hiding spots and moving to block her end of the street. "Smart little bastards. Guess they're finally learning."

Smart?!_ Samus squeaked with rising panic, electing to duck behind the redhead and cling to her back in fear. How could they get smart?! The ones on Grelbin were like a pack of rabid animals!_

"We can worry about that later," Angela stated with deceptive calm. Slender fingers slowly moving to snag one of the few homebrew grenades still left in her Quick Select. "Preferably when they're not about to chew our faces off."

A chorus of hissing shrieks and sudden surge of blue fur forestalled any further conversation as the gathered horde simultaneously leapt at them from all sides. The lombax flinging the first canister she could get hold of and detonating it with a surprisingly well placed pistol shot; unleashing a brief electrical storm that fried several Protopets and bought her enough breathing space to start picking the remainder off at range. Or at least until an instinctive urge made her duck, that is. Narrowly avoiding the Protopet attempting to tackle her from one side, close enough to feel its body brush against her exposed ears, before putting three rounds in its back and moving on to the next threat in line. The cacophony of pained screeching and ravenous, snapping of jaws soon drowned out as the deafening boom of Ellen's shotgun joined the fray; frankly unable to miss given the tight press of bodies, and turning the initial wave of attackers bearing down on her side into so much bloody mist.

But with no time to reload once it ran dry, let alone swap to anything else once a fresh tide of Protopets came pouring out of a nearby alleyway, the redhead was forced to get creative. The spent shotgun serving as an improvised club and delivering wide, sweeping blows to complement her hastily drawn Versa Blade's desperate slashes and parries. A crude, but ultimately effective strategy, and one that soon helped to whittle a fairly sizeable mob of fluffy terrors down to but a few stragglers in as many minutes. Angela's marksmanship soon helping to take care of the rest, and giving Ellen a chance to reload on the run as they fled the ambush site at best speed. The side street soon giving way to the beginnings of a shopping district as they skirted down back alleys and across several streets in a bid to throw off any further pursuit, before finally halting in the shadows of a surprisingly untouched department store.

Thankfully there were no further pursuers, or any other sign of Protopets in the immediate area, but that didn't alter the fact they had effectively been herded way off their intended course and into the unknown. Nor did it improve their collective mood as Ellen tried to reach Ratchet once again via Wrist Com, only for the by now expected 'connection failed' icon to continue taunting her from the projected screen's top right corner. The signal strength seemingly even more scrambled than before, despite being on ground level and using the short-wave band Samus had suggested. Ling her wondering not for the first time as to why such a doubtlessly expensive piece of military grade equipment couldn't seem to cut through the admittedly choked airwaves. "Stupid piece of crap... Work, damn you!"

Still not working?_ Samus asked, head tilted in curiosity as she glanced over the redhead's shoulder.

Ellen merely growled in frustration, fingers stabbing at the holographic interface with far more force than necessary as she replied. "No, the bloody thing still keeps timing out for no reason before it can even connect, and I swear its getting worse by the minute."

"That can't be right..." Angela mused aloud, bringing up her own Wrist Com and trailing off as she rapidly typed with a growing frown. "If anything, it should be easier to get through at ground level with short-wave comms versus regular channels. Not unless..."

The lombax paused, seemingly to freeze in place for several long moments before cursing under her breath and typing once more with renewed vigour. Ellen and Samus exchanging a brief puzzled glance, before the latter decided to voice their unasked question. Um... Unless what?_

"Unless the signal's being jammed somehow, and we're closing in on the source," Angela replied tersely, pausing just long enough to expand her Wrist Com's projected screen so the others could see it more easily. "See here?" she asked, finger tapping the displayed graph with its fluctuating wavelengths. "It's not exactly common knowledge, but Megacorp likes to keep certain galactic level priority communication channels reserved for their own exclusive use. Now I can't say for certain, but if you take away the background clutter and interference, there's definitely some kind of low level transmission hidden beneath the usual civilian traffic that looks a lot like one of theirs."

"Any idea where it's coming from?" Ellen asked, before a sudden thought occurred to her. "Wait, you don't think it could be Ratchet or Cash, do you?"

Angela snorted, lightly shaking her head. "I seriously doubt it. But given that my Wrist Com can pick the signal up at all, the transmission source has to be fairly close by."

And you think it might be responsible for jamming our own communications?_ Samus asked, though she already expected the answering shrug.

"Even if it isn't, at least its something to go on with for now," Ellen said, catching both of their attention. "Besides, if it really is one of those special Megacorp channels, then whatever equipment is being used to transmit the signal has to be miles better than what our Wrist Coms can handle. I say we take a look, grab it for ourselves, and use it to get in contact with the others."

"Well, it definitely beats wandering around this place and hoping for the best," Angela agreed, eyes briefly flickering back to her Wrist Com before gesturing further down the otherwise deserted street. "Looks like the signal's strongest in that direction. If we are going, then I suggest we get moving before the Protopets track us down again."

Which was more likely than not, given their luck so far, and Ellen didn't feel like invoking Murphy any time soon if she could help it. The redhead soon leading the way once more at Angela's direction, leaving the department store behind and passing by several equally abandoned designer outlets before reaching a crossroads and hanging a right. The signs of a Protopet rampage steadily picking up as they gradually closed in on the mysterious signal that seemed to be coming from the very heart of this district, with scattered goods and the occasional splotches of congealed blood and oil leaving a disturbing trail of breadcrumbs to follow. Leaving Ellen little other choice than to keep pressing onwards, and hoping against hope that their absent team-mates hadn't bitten off more than they could chew.

{()}

Before the Protopet outbreak, Barnesworth Avenue had been a fairly typical working class neighbourhood by Allgon City standards, right down to the same unimaginative, geometric layout used as a template for the surrounding residential areas. Neat rows of vaguely oval shaped, identikit modernist houses lined either side of the spacious road; each with its own tiny stretch of front yard, white picket fence, and attendant driveway crammed alongside. The well worn sidewalks dotted with carefully spaced mailboxes, lampposts, and decorative trees that added a splash of colour in an otherwise sterile-looking street. All designed to appeal to the clean, minimalist aesthetic for which Allgon City was well known.

As of right now though, it was just another war zone in an already devastated city. Several of the houses sporting shattered windows, doors that had clearly been broken down from the inside, or had otherwise been reduced to so much rubble by presumably explosive means. One of which had the rear half of a battered police squad car protruding halfway out of somebody's living room; its roof lights still strobing a familiar blue and red that only served to highlight the surrounding chaos. While abandoned ground vehicles lay scattered around like broken toys as desperate knots of people fled their homes in terror; hunted down by the very pets they had so willingly introduced to their families that very morning, with some not even reaching the sidewalk before being torn apart with gusto. The communication network crash having left most people in the dark and largely unaware of the danger until it was already far too late.

To Ratchet, it was a scene that had become all too familiar these past few hours since their arrival on Damosel. The Western half of the city having already been almost completely overrun, leaving local authorities stretched to breaking point as they desperately attempted to establish safe zones in the city centre, while keeping the ever encroaching tide of Protopets at bay. Which in turn left precious little manpower or resources to aid those stuck on the city outskirts or in isolated communities; leaving a majority to fend for themselves and wait for a rescue that would never come before they were inevitably overwhelmed.

Or so the case had been, were it not for a certain lombax and his companions doing their damnedest to save as many as they could. The sole focus of his attention currently centred upon a small family of robots that had been cornered by a mob of the little monsters, causing him to break into a flat sprint and quickly leaving Cash behind as he vaulted over a fallen lamppost and zeroed in with laser-like precision.

"Hey! Hey you!"

A gloved hand darted down to his quick select without breaking stride. A few of the Protopets taking note of his presence with a hungry glare as he veered around another pack assaulting an occupied mini van, before drawing the one weapon in his arsenal not liable to cause collateral damage. The barrel emitting a faint hum of power, swiftly followed by a swirling stream of particles that swept across the mass of blue fur in a wave of light and noise, and leaving behind a pile of very confused woolly grazers lying at the equally bewildered family's feet.

"Ewe mad, bro?" the lombax quipped with a vicious grin, before gesturing towards the still frozen family. "C'mon, what're you waiting for? Get out of here!"

With desperate relief and gratitude in their singular optics, the robot family quickly made their way over to an air car already loaded down with their meagre belongings and piled in. The vehicle just barely managing to waver its way into the air before the Protopets could try again; taking off at full speed and heading for perceived safety, while Ratchet swiftly reversed course and made his way towards a soon to be overwhelmed police officer. The woman still screaming in terror and frantically firing her sidearm into a mass of ravenous, fluffy bodies, even as they threatened to bury her alive in spite of the lombax's best efforts to cut them down.

Thankfully for all involved, however, Cash was just starting to catch up on the opposite side of the street. His shotgun booming and machete carving a bloody path through any Protopets that got too close, while Clank directed them both towards whichever threat was the greatest. The horde of chittering terrors both seemingly without number and everywhere at once; springing from every flower bush, manhole, building - and in one case, a newspaper stand of all things - across the entire street's length. But with somebody to rally around, plus the help of a few armed residents lending their own firepower in support, the few scattered survivors quickly pulled together and the tide gradually began to turn.

Cheap handguns, improvised melee weapons, and some heavy ordinance on Ratchet's part helping to stall, then slowly push the Protopets back down the street, where a raised highway on massive support pillars neatly bisected the road. The Sheepinator really coming into its own once the lombax no longer had to worry about friendly fire, and could simply sweep it across the encroaching horde in wide, lazy arcs that left more than a few Protopets going after their transformed siblings instead. Giving Cash enough breathing space to drag the heavily injured, but otherwise still miraculously breathing police officer into cover, before giving a wide-eyed, bespectacled teenage novalian a crash course in first aid.

Which was just as well really, because no sooner had the survivors regrouped when the ground began to quake. Gently at first, but with ever increasing strength that had Ratchet struggling to keep upright without the aid of his Sheepinator's barrel jammed into the now cracking asphalt road. The reverberations seeming to travel between his widely spaced legs for but a few moments, before converging on a sewer access point at the very end of the street, barely twenty feet away. His eyes widening in realisation but a few moments later, and just barely managing to throw himself to one side as a jet of super pressurised raw sewage blew the heavy manhole cover clean off with explosive force. The improvised projectile crashing down end over end and burying itself in the street almost directly where he had been standing; shortly followed by a disgusting mass of hair and filth, which promptly landed in front of the lombax with a sickening, watery squelch and a predatory rumble issuing forth from a wide open maw.

"Ew... and I thought they smelt bad on the outside," Ratchet groused, his sensitive nose wrinkling in disgust as the clearly much larger Protopet's overwhelming stench washed over him. The Sheepinator swiftly exchanged for his grenade launcher, and unable to resist one last quip as he angled the barrel so that its nuclear payload would arc directly into the creature's still gaping mouth. "Now open up and say-"

Before he could finish, however, the evolved and already dry heaving Protopet suddenly belched with enough force to shatter the side windows on a nearby air car, swiftly followed by hawking up a stream of spittle-laced slime that splashed messily across his boots. The lombax jumping back with a surprised yelp and no small amount of disgust; jolting his aim and sending the Mini Nuke sailing well off target, demolishing the front of somebody's house a few doors down instead. Subsequently, he wasn't in the best position to notice that the growing pile of puke was now stirring and rapidly swelling. A trio of newly spawned Protopets breaking free of the slop with a wet, squelching sound and briefly pausing to shake off their fuzzy hides, before immediately lunging towards the closest perceived source of food in a ravenous frenzy.

A second Mini Nuke soon nixed that idea, but by then it was already too late. The evolved Protopet soon joined by a second and third from the sewer entrance, and subsequently devouring whatever it could get hold of with wild abandon, including several of the slower witted, converted sheep. Their incessant need to feed and further propagate the species resulting in a slowly growing horde of chittering terrors that rushed the survivors anew in spite of their best efforts, along with acting as a beacon of sorts for their much smaller kin. Clusters of which were pouring in from underneath the highway bridge and beyond, like moths drawn to a flame.

'Or an all you can eat buffet,' Ratchet thought grimly as he continued to fall back with his grenade launcher still thumping. Incinerating several clusters in the blast radius, but becoming increasingly ineffective once the Protopets started to spread out and attack from multiple angles, and even sacrificing themselves in order to protect their larger 'mothers' whenever he tried to go for a knockout punch. Which is why his next shot wasn't aimed at them, but rather at an overturned delivery truck that blocked off a good portion of the road.

While the advent of affordable nanotechnology had fundamentally changed galactic society over the last century or so, some things had largely stayed the same, and vehicle propulsion systems were no different. Most civilian ground and air vehicles relied upon a system of interlinked hydrogen fuel cells with a redundant cooling system that, while better protected than older generation models, were still incredibly volatile when breached, and could easily spark a chain reaction of catastrophic proportions should the cell's failsafe protocols not isolate it in time. As was the case when a localised nuclear blast consumed a good portion of the car in question; turning it into one big hydrogen fuelled bomb and reducing anything caught in the blast radius to so much ash.

Ratchet gave it a solid seven out of ten, with a bonus point for artistic style.

More importantly, however, it wiped out two of the evolved Protopets and a good portion of their offspring; giving the lombax a chance to close in on the third while the remainder were still stunned, and using an abandoned air car to repeat the same trick again. Leaving Cash and the few armed survivors to pick off what stragglers remained, and an eerie silence to settle across the street once the last Protopet had finally fallen.

"Nice job, mate," Cash greeted with a light nod as he approached. His voice lowering and lips pulling into a grimace once he reached Ratchet's side. "But we're not gonna last much longer if this keeps up. I dunno about you, but I'm burning ammo fast, and running's not gonna work with all these civvies slowing us down."

"I know," Ratchet shot back quietly, switching over to his as yet largely unused Tesla Claw in order to save what few Nanoclips he had left in reserve. Acutely aware that their rush to reach Damosel had left little opportunity to resupply, and that any local Megacorp vendors had probably long since been ransacked during the initial city wide panic. "But we can't just leave these people behind. Isn't there an evac site around here, or something?"

"I am afraid that the closest evacuation site has already been overwhelmed," Clank responded, his gaze distant and antennae dully pulsing as he continued to monitor local radio chatter for any leads. "However, there appears to be another still operational at Higson memorial gardens, approximately 3.9 kilometres due North from our current location."

"Then tha's where we're goin'," a slurred, scratchy female voice cut in from behind.

Turning to face the speaker, Ratchet's words died in his throat as he took in the bloodied and barely standing form of the police officer they had rescued from a swarm of Protopets not five minutes before. Leaning heavily on the youth who had treated her as she limped forth, her pistol still clutched in a death grip, and looking more like a living corpse given the sheer number of bite marks adorning her exposed skin and ruined mess of a right eye. The scant few other survivors trailing close behind and nervously keeping watch for any more Protopets, before the group came to a halt once they got within spitting distance of the lombax and his unusual allies.

"Are you... fit enough to travel, ma'am?" Clank asked hesitantly, his optics taking in her many injuries with no small amount of concern. "Even with the benefits of Nanotech, the amount of blood loss-"

"Dun't matta," she interrupted, voice increasingly slurred and clearly swaying on her feet. "Th' whole sector's 'bout ta get quarantined, an' anybody left b'hind's s'good as dead. gotta get people out 'fore too late."

"She means the Extermibots Megacorp's been dropping all over the place," the bespectacled youth clarified fearfully, shifting his hold on the woman's waist so as to better support her frame. "I heard they've already torn up most of the West side, and that they're targeting all organics; not just the Protopets. If we don't get out of here soon, we're gonna be next!"

"That's a load of sensationalist bull crap and you know it!" another, grizzled-looking survivor opinioned loudly, waving his purloined shotgun in the air. "I might not see eye to eye with our illustrious corporate overlords at the best of times, but even they wouldn't be stupid enough to try something like that! It'd be political suicide!"

The man was greeted with a chorus of nervous muttering and self assured agreements amongst the others present, until the merc in their midst drew their attention with a dry clearing of his throat.

"Can't do much without some kind of transport either way, and it'd take way too long to get there on foot if we're carryin' wounded," Cash opinioned, brow furrowed in thought while absently rubbing his chin. "Not to mention those bloody Protopets'll probably be waiting for us at every turn. Especially if they smell blood in the air."

Much as he hated to admit it, Ratchet couldn't help but agree. Even with their own ships on call, there simply wasn't enough room to carry more than a handful at a time, and what few vehicles remained were either wrecked beyond repair or burning merrily all along the street. Which left either trying to fight their way North on foot regardless, convincing the survivors to stay put and turtle up until they could bring back help, or...

"Well, what about that?" the lombax asked, pointing towards the raised highway bridge he had spotted earlier during their push against the Protopets. A tall flight of switchback stairs running parallel to one side of the road it bisected, leading up to high-walled platform over which an overhanging rail system of sorts was just barely visible from their position. "You think the transit system'll still be running in all this?"

"Beat's waitin' hereee," the injured officer answered, before descending into a coughing fit. Almost falling to her knees were it not for the youth from before still holding her upright with another survivor's support, and fumbling for her radio with bloody fingers all the while. "Lemme- lemme see if'n get holda dispatch. Tell 'em ta send a damn train fer usss."

"Alright... I just hope you can get through. And that they're willing to listen."

Giving her a respectful nod, Ratchet left the officer to her self appointed task and motioned towards the few people left that were armed. Having them take up formation around the other survivors along with Cash and himself, before slowly leading their combined party towards what he hoped to be a safe ride out of here. Although, given their collective string of luck thus far, and with perhaps more than a dash of Ellen's pessimism having rubbed off on him, Ratchet seriously doubted things would be that easy. Especially since he couldn't afford to go all out when trouble inevitably came their way again; not when he was being forced to play defensive in order to keep these people safe, and give up his usual mobile style of combat in the process. A growing scowl etching itself upon his face after realising that one of the most hated tropes in videogame history had just been forced upon him at the worst possible time.

'Ugh, I hate escort missions... Still, at least things can't get any worse than this...'

{()}

All things considered, the last quarter of an hour or so has been fairly quiet for Ellen and company. Their meandering route turning up little more than ruined livelihoods and the occasional corpse, along with surprisingly small numbers of Protopets in isolated clutches. Almost suspiciously so, given the sheer amount of chaos prevalent throughout the rest of the city, and for all they knew, the planet itself. But it wasn't until the relatively narrow pedestrianised streets finally gave way to an open plaza, and the sight of a truly massive shopping mall complex at the far end, that things finally began to click into place. The gargantuan holographic advertising hoarding covered the structure's upper half, topped with an equally massive Megacorp logo and running a Protopet advertisement on loop. The bunting and barriers for crowd control leading up to the all-glass front doors, flanked by cardboard cut-outs and associated paraphernalia. The abandoned pet carriers scattered far and wide across the plaza, with some clearly showing signs of having been chewed through from the inside.

"I think we just reached ground zero," Ellen murmured quietly, unconsciously tightening the grip on her weapon as she warily took in their surroundings. "Or at least for this area, anyway."

Internally, Angela couldn't help but silently agree. It was all too easy to picture how events might have unfolded in those opening moments, with excited customers cuing up for hours on end in hopes of taking home Megacorp's hottest new product. Given modern travel times and the city's ultra efficient public transport system, it wouldn't have taken long for the proud owners to bring their 'friendly' new companions home; unintentionally spreading the Protopet menace far and wide, and rendering any attempts at quelling the initial outbreak virtually impossible. All it would have taken was a single spark to set them off, whether all at once or in staggered groups throughout the city. Some unseen catalyst causing the seemingly docile creatures to suddenly turn violent without warning and devour all in their path; a specific pheromone, genetic quirk, or biological timer perhaps.

Or maybe, something like a high frequency audio signal.

Unconsciously, Angela's gaze panned towards the mall complex's roof and the vast antennae array up top, clawing its way into the sky. Something probably meant for receiving a constant stream of Megacorp branded advertising directly from the source at company HQ, before pumping it out through the various holographic displays and speakers dotted throughout both the plaza and mall itself. The fact that said advertisements were still being broadcast at all being a testament as to the signal's strength, and with a little ingenuity plus some tinkering on their part, it might even be possible to subvert the array for their own purposes. Assuming they could get close enough to manually link up with it that is, given how notoriously tight Megacorp's security tended to be when it came to remote hacking.

But of more immediate concern, however, was the results of the lombax's most recent scan displayed upon her Wrist Com's projected screen. Confirming her growing suspicion that the mystery signal they had been following and Megacorp's looping broadcast were one of the same, and making her hope against hope that somebody high up in Megacorp really had orchestrated this whole fiasco from the very start. Because if she was right and the Protopet outbreak was a deliberate act, then at least there was a good chance that the mastermind behind it all actually had some sort of plan to neutralise the creatures once they had served their intended purpose, whatever that may be.

The alternate was frankly too terrifying to even contemplate; especially given just how many Megacorp outlets there had to be selling Protopets throughout Allgon City, let alone the rest of the galaxy combined.

"You might be right in more ways than one, Pearce," Angela finally answered, shaking her head to dispel that particular train of thought. "The signal's definitely coming from inside that mall, and if I'm right, then it might well be responsible for this whole outbreak."

"What do you mean?" Ellen questioned, her brow creased with a mixture of worry and slowly simmering anger. "Are you saying somebody set those things off on purpose?"

Angela shook her head once more. "I can't say for sure, not until we can get a look at the transmitter and jack into the system. But yeah... I'm starting to think someone did. There's just too many factors here that simply don't add up, and now that we're closer, I've been picking up faint signs of a second signal running parallel to the first. Some kind of... burst audio feed if I'm reading this right; far too high pitched for most sapient life to hear."

"Just like a dog whistle," Ellen breathed, eyes widening in realisation as the pieces fell into place. "You're talking about some kind of activation signal; one that only the Protopets can hear and... what? Telling them to go crazy and kill everyone?"

Angela nodded. "My thoughts exactly. There's no telling what that signal's been transmitting, or for how long; but hyper aggression aside, the Protopets we've run into so far seem to be a lot smarter than the ones we ran into on Grelbin. Let's just hope they haven't learned how to nest yet, or we could be facing a planetary scale event."

Nest? P-planetary scale?_ Samus queried with obvious worry, optics wide and servos fidgeting as she gave the lombax her full attention. But don't they just, you know... Barf up their babies whenever they want? Why would they even need to nest?_

"They shouldn't; not unless they're still evolving somehow," Ellen pointed out, giving Angela a sideways glance. "Something to do with whatever animal DNA cocktail Megacorp used in the original, maybe. Unless there's something else you'd like to share with us."

A piercing glare was her immediate answer, the accompanying scowl an all too familiar sight by now as Angela jabbed the human's armoured chest with an extended finger. "I already told you, I don't know what exactly went into the original's genetic makeup, let alone these mass produced clones! Hell, they could be part Blargian snagglebeast, or a dozen other predatory species for all we know, and with all the instincts to match!"

"Including preservation of the species," Ellen realised with dawning horror, getting a stern, yet approving nod in return. "And what better way than to find some quiet corner of the city and breed like rabbits while everyone's busy elsewhere. Somewhere easy to hide and with plenty of food nearby. Somewhere like..."

Almost as one, the trio turned to look at the looming shopping mall with a new perspective. One tinged with an increasingly cold dread, and more than a few muttered curses at the prospect of what lay before them. Because where else would the Protopets and their evolved cousins potentially set up a nest, other than the one place where the sheer number of patrons could guarantee a good initial supply of fresh biomass, and would likely be overlooked in the ongoing chaos.

"Jesus Christ..." Ellen whispered, rigidly gripping her weapon and scarcely daring to breathe. "If you're right, and those things manage to build up their numbers in secret..."

There'd be nothing to stop them..._ Samus finished, still clinging to the back of Ellen's armour and visibly shaking. We have to tell the authorities. If they can get a warship over here, then-_

"What, exactly?" Angela interrupted, drawing their attention and ire in equal measure. "All we have is speculation with no evidence, and in case you've forgotten, we're still top of Megacorp's most wanted list. They pretty much own the local government, and even if we could somehow cut through all this radio interference and reach somebody in charge, they're more likely to bomb us than any potential Protopet nest."

"So what do you suggest, then?" Ellen retorted, frustration colouring her tone. "We can't just leave this place intact; not if there really is a nest in there."

Left unsaid was the fact that none of them particularly wanted to go poking around inside a recently abandoned mall where thousands of Protopets might be lying in wait; eager to devour any unwelcome guests. Grelbin had been more than experience enough, thank you very much.

"I'd say using that Grapple Gun of yours to reach the roof would have been our best bet," Angela mused aloud, her brow furrowed in thought. "But I doubt it's rated to take both of our weight combined, let alone your armour as well... Which means we're probably going to have to do this the hard way."

"Meaning we walk straight through the front door and pray for the best," Ellen sighed in resignation, shoulders slumping almost in sync with Samus' equally dejected form. "Well that's just frigging great..."

Angela snorted, taking the lull to recheck her gear while there was still an opportunity to do so. "You think I like it any better than you do, Pearce? This isn't exactly my idea of fun, you know." She paused briefly, her pistol's magazine slotting back into place with a dry click as she locked eyes with the human. "But if we are doing this, then we're doing it my way. We find the nearest access point, hit the roof fast, and get out even faster. I do not want to be anywhere near this place when Megacorp decides to bomb our asses from orbit."

"...I can live with that," Ellen replied with a wry smile ghosting her lips. One that faded all too quickly as she took a deep breath and slowly began pacing her way across the wide open ground between them and the mall entrance. Her carbine held in a death grip and finger held solidly over the trigger all the way.

The others quickly fell in on either flank; their combined tension clearly rising with every step closer they took towards the automated front doors. The interior beyond hidden behind thick panes of cracked glass, darkened and smeared by what looked like bloody handprints across a good portion of the surface. Which didn't help Ellen's growing apprehension in the slightest once she finally reached the entirely unresponsive doors; digging her fingers into the thin gap between them and, with Angela lending her strength, gradually forcing them apart to the point that they could just about squeeze through. From there it was just a question of making their way through the debris strewn lobby area, past the remains of a hastily constructed barricade and into the lifeless mall itself. With the few rays of natural sunlight streaming in from the skylights far above only serving to cast eerie shadows across the furthest reaches of the ground floor; making the already deathly silent atmosphere all the more disturbing.

"Alright... Let's stick together and stay quiet," Angela whispered, standing stock still as her eyes constantly flickered to every dark corner and perceived threat. "The sooner we get this over with, the better."

On that they could all agree, and as they began to creep forth in a loose tandem formation, Ellen couldn't help but give a silent prayer for her absent team-mates.

'Wherever they are, whatever they've gotten themselves into... Please let them be safe...'

And that, I'm afraid, is as far as I've gotten so far that isn't a garbled mess. Still, at least it worked out much better than my initial drafts, and hopefully goes some way to conveying the sheer of scale and horror of a mass Protopet outbreak that was sorely lacking in canon. Along with sowing the seeds of a little plot thread that I've been planning out for quite some time now, if you know where to look, which will hopefully become much clearer as we approach the finale.

In the meantime, I'll do what I can to get the other half of this arc finished and posted ASAP, though that likely won't be for some time with the way things are going right now. Hopefully it'll get a little easier once I get past this stumbling block I seem to be stuck against, but until then, thank you all once again for your patience, and hope you enjoyed the chapter for what it was worth. Hope to see you soon.

Review replies:

starrat - Thank you!

Bookwriter94 - Too right, my friend, and thanks for understanding. Hopefully the new chapter was worth the wait.

GamerHeart - No worries, and believe me, I'm more than happy to have viewer feedback and input. I may not necessarily use said ideas in my current project for whatever reason, but they can always be filed away for later use, or to help generate new story threads.

TheRestingRiolu - No disappointment at all; it just confused me for a while is all. In any case, glad you liked the more recent chapters, and if all goes well, I should start getting back on track sooner rather than not. Lord knows I could do with something going right for once. I'm sure you're writing's not that bad either, but if you ever need some pointers or someone to bounce ideas off of, my metaphorical door is always open.

DarkEnigma95 - Believe me, I'm just as glad to see the end of it as you are given how much trouble the Grelbin arc gave me. When it came to the Leviathans, I actually preferred to use a fully modded version of the Vaporizer myself , once any YETIs in the area were wiped out via Bouncer. Never really bothered with the Kilonoids myself , although I did abuse the Shield Charger once I got it. Your memories of Allgon serve you well, and while I'm doing things a fair bit different than canon, I really want to include Clank's little 'Daxter' dance if I can. Here's hoping I can find a way to fit it into the next chapter.

Vendicor - Good to hear from you again too, and I'm glad to hear you've been enjoying the last few chapters. I've always tried to scale action scenes throughout the story, so as not to make things too easy for the increased cast of heroes and make things more interesting. Unfortunately I tend to get a bit too carried away at times, and end up dragging things out far longer than need be; with the Thugs-4-Less HQ arc being a prime example. Still, so long as you're having fun reading it, then I guess it can't be all that bad. Hope the new chapter's to your liking as well!

Gwencarson126 - Thanks! It's always nice to hear from a new reviewer, and I can only hope that you enjoy the rest of the story just as much.

Firestar5277 - Yeah… (scratches back of neck sheepishly) I do tend to get a little carried away with the details, don't I? It's something I'm trying to work on as I write, and so far it's proven to be a difficult balancing act, finding the right tone between pacing and description. But I like to think I'm slowly getting there, bit at a time. Ellen's crappy luck is exactly why she's so paranoid half the time; the galaxy really is out to get her! Though you're right that she really should have learned not to let her guard down by now, and especially not to tempt Murphy.

It's honestly surprising at times just how dark the Ratchet & Clank universe can be at times, when you really stop to think about it. Especially since the games are nominally marketed at 'kids', and yet touches upon more themes more suited to older audiences. Kind of like Pixar movies in away, I suppose. Incidentally, Garrus was always part of my squad, regardless of which Shepard I played as. FemShepxGarrus, MShepxTali, all the way!

Ooohhh! That pun was a good one! My turn:

Did you hear about the man suffering from aviophobia who decided to book a trip on a flying boat? He thought it would be plane sailing.

Razor of DOOM - Actually, Gleeman Vox technically holds the dubious honour of most potty mouthed Ratchet and Clank character. Though he too was censored of course, and I don't recall him dropping any F-bombs, implied or otherwise. To answer your question though, I'll probably have to either tone her lone down to something less offensive, or otherwise censor it out. I'm more inclined towards the first option under principle, though I am open to suggestions.

Dohvakin795 - Nope, just really, really delayed. Again.