Author's note:

Let me start by wishing everyone a very happy new year… and a very belated apology for taking so damn long to post an update. My personal life feels like it's turned into a crappy soap opera as of late, and while some things have improved, something else always seems to crop up at the worst possible time. Still, got to stay positive and focus on the things I can fix, right?

Thank you all for your messages of support, both through reviews and PM. It's really helped me get through the last several months when I'm at my worst. My mother's doing a lot better now; after several weeks of stressing over not knowing, it turned out to be a heart murmur that didn't require anything more than medication. Thank God. I also still have my job too, though others at my workplace weren't so lucky. Around a third were let go just before Christmas, which only served to dump a bigger workload on those who were left, and made the holiday season memorable for all the wrong reasons.

But in any case, all drama aside, it's about time I got this story back on track and actually finished. Preferably before it reaches the five year anniversary mark. (Has it really been that long?) I'm still not happy with the final result, by I've been stuck in a rut long enough and really want to move past this arc. So, without further ado, let's get on with it.

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 51

Tribble Impact

Allgon City, Damosel

Bogon Galaxy

G2.17.100 Galactic calendar

2:03pm local time

Utilizing a unique combination of anti-gravity generators, point-to-point dimensional folding technology, and a good old fashioned overhead rail system, the Allgon City transit system was perhaps the single most advanced, efficient, and not to mention costly public transportation networks in the entire Bogon galaxy. Day or night, the fully automated grav-trains ran like clockwork; with localised portals taking commuter-packed carriages from one section of the city to another within a matter of seconds. Eliminating the need for countless miles of track and dependant infrastructure used in most conventional railways altogether, with the exception of a few dedicated hub areas for changing trains and maintenance. All of which only served to make an already tense situation worse still when the train Ratchet and company had been relying upon for extraction still hadn't shown up a good forty odd minutes later, in spite of the increasingly delirious police officer in their care and her desperate calls for help.

What had started out as a fairly small group of survivors steadily grew as scattered refugees began to trickle in from the surrounding area, or were otherwise rescued by Ratchet and company on short-ranging patrols to keep the Protopets from getting too close. Their numbers gradually swelling until a good thirty or so survivors were stood on the raised grav-train platform; packed together like sardines and with all the emotional turmoil one would expect from a trapped mob of people in an increasingly bad situation. Tempers frayed, panic began to set in, and it was only a matter of time before somebody did something stupid enough to set the whole powder keg off.

But thankfully whoever the officer had been speaking to managed to pull through, and with a brief crackling distortion of warped air, one of the city's gleaming silver and red trimmed grav-trains finally popped into existence just outside of the station. The trio of connected carriages riding the last twenty odd yards of overhanging rails, before smoothly coming to a halt at the platform; the compartment doors barely gliding open fast enough to admit the sudden stampede to get aboard. The injured and vulnerable taking priority, with Clank taking the lead as Ratchet and Cash ensured that they were safely secured and not liable to be crushed by a wall of flesh, fur, and steel. Leaving precious little standing room as the remaining survivors desperately sought to claim whatever space was left.

All told, it took around ten minutes to fit a majority of the desperate civilians on board in such a way that there was enough breathing space for everyone. Things were finally starting to look up, and while still wary of an impending Protopet onslaught, the constant tension in Ratchet's frame began to bleed off as the last half dozen survivors began to squeeze their way into the already cramped middle carriage under Clank's supervision. Glancing over to where Cash was maintaining his own vigil over the soon to be empty grav-train platform, it was clear that the markazian mercenary was of a similar mind and just as eager to get out of this doomed neighbourhood as he was. The pair moving to board themselves once they had conducted a last sweep for any surprises, Which is why they were the first to react as the by now familiar hissing and snapping of jaws reached their ears, shortly followed by a pair of teenage markazian's bolting up the platform's switchback stairs from street level with a small horde of the fluffy terrors nipping at their heels like a school of hungry piranhas.

Dishevelled, bleeding, and gasping for breath, the two were clearly at breaking point and liable to collapse from exhaustion at any moment. The slightly taller male having to physically support his shorter female companion as she ran across the platform with a limping gait, making a beeline towards the already overloaded grav-train with desperation in their eyes and a shrill cry for help on her lips. "Wait! Don't leave us! Please!"

"Oh hell," Cash groused aloud, already bringing his shotgun to bear on the steadily growing wall of Protopets bearing down on them. "They're gonna bring the whole bloody lot of 'em right down on top of us."

"Not if we're fast enough!" Ratchet countered, shouting over one shoulder as he sprinted towards the flagging pair. "Clank, get the rest on board! I'm gonna lend 'em a hand!"

Not waiting for an answer and trusting the markazian to cover him, Ratchet quickly covered the distance with long strides and sporadic bursts of gunfire from his Heavy Lancer. Any semblance of accuracy or trigger discipline thrown out the window in favour of simply putting as many rounds downrange as possible; keeping the surging tide of Protopets at bay until he could reach the last few stragglers fleeing across the soon to be overwhelmed grav-train platform. The Shock mod more than proving its worth as arcs of artificial lightning lanced through the rapidly gaining horde with each successive hit; leaving many of the front runners in convulsing, bloody heaps and adding to the veritable wall of fire put up by both the Cash himself and few weapons the rescued survivors had as they took pot-shots from the train's interior. Buying him the precious seconds he needed to cross the last few feet of open ground and reach the exhausted teens just before they could be overwhelmed.

"Don't worry, I gotcha!"

So saying, the lombax skidded to a halt by their side and quickly switched over to his Sheepinator; no longer having to worry about accidentally hitting friendlies, and frankly unable to miss at this range as he repeatedly swept a beam of transmogrifying energy back and forth across the horde of fluffy blue horrors. The resulting herd of newly transformed sheep proving more than distraction enough for the remaining Protopets, and an opportunity to sling the flagging girl's free arm over his shoulder before making a break for it. Her grateful companion thanking him profusely between breaths as they hefted the surprisingly light female between them and made a last push towards the train while the flood of ravenous terrors were still busy. A few choosing to ignore the ongoing feeding frenzy and concentrate on the bigger prize, only to be swiftly dispatched by the defenders fire or, in one case, Cash's machete as he covered their retreat.

"Ratchet, you must hurry! We are out of time!"

Scant yards away now, a clearly anxious Clank beckoned them aboard from where he stood in the last carriage's still open door. Smoothly stepping aside to let them pass through, shortly followed by Cash with one last parting shot over his shoulder before the doors snapped shut with a pressurised hiss and the train finally began to pull out of the station. A smattering of Protopets throwing themselves at the windows in desperate, frenzied attempt to catch their escaping prey, only to bounce off and tumble away into the distance as the train rapidly picked up speed and left the now completely overrun platform far behind. Ratchet allowing himself a small sigh of relief as he handed the teens off to Clank, making sure they received whatever medical attention could be spared, before finally slumping against the sealed door and resting his eyes for a few moments. The tight press of bodies keeping him upright, even as he threatened to drift off from sheer exhaustion brought on by a constant string of engagements, one after another.

Or at least, that is, until somebody roused the lombax by shaking his shoulder. His eyes grudgingly flickering open with a groan and blearily taking in Cash's mildly disproving face. "Hey, don't be falling asleep on me now. We're not out of the woods just yet."

"Don't I know it," Ratchet groused under his breath, before giving the merc his full attention. "Not sure what else we can do for now though, other than get these people somewhere safe I mean. How're you doing for ammo and supplies?"

This time it was Cash's turn to express his frustration with a snort and slow shaking of his head. "Probably no better than you, mate. I'm down to me last few clips, and pretty much all the spare Nanotech's gone trying to keep that poor bloody copper stable, let alone treating all the other injuries we've got."

"Yeah, that's about what I figured," Ratchet sighed tiredly, idly rubbing the back of his neck. "We're not gonna be able to make another run like this without a resupply, and honestly, I'm not sure if we can make much more of a difference out here without some serious help."

Cash's gaze briefly flickered to the people packed in around their little bubble of space, before leaning closer and lowering his voice. "You want to pull back?"

It was an honest question rather than accusatory, yet Ratchet couldn't help but wince. He'd already known going into this that they would have to make some hard decisions. That they couldn't realistically save everyone who needed help, no matter how hard they fought or bled, and the fact they had managed to rescue so many at all was nothing short of a miracle. But to actually call it quits when there were still people out there, desperately in need of help...

"Given the circumstances," Clank interrupted suddenly, "it may be for the best."

Startled from his train of thought, the lombax's gaze swiftly locked with the sympathetic green optics of his long time best friend. The little robot having apparently finished attending to those he could while they were busy talking, before somehow squeezing his way through the crowd to stand at Ratchet's side. "What d'ya mean, pal?"

"Our rescue efforts have been producing significantly diminishing returns with each subsequent foray," Clank continued with grim certainty, "and the chances of successfully extracting any further survivors are statistically slim. Especially if this area has already been deemed lost, as the police officer insinuated, and is subsequently due to be sanitised regardless."

"And when you say 'sanitise'," Cash added with audible quotation marks, "I don't reckon they just meant those Extermibots that kid was going on about, right?"

Clank nodded stiffly. "My thoughts exactly. This outbreak has become untenable and grown far too large for the local authorities to bring under control. If we are to prevent them from enacting such extreme measures across the city, then we must regroup and find a way to prevent the Protopets from spreading any further."

"It's probably a little too late for that, pal," Ratchet quipped with a humourless snort, before leaning back until his helmet clinked against the train's glass-paned door with a frustrated groan. "Ugh... What I wouldn't give to have the girls with us here right now, or at least a decent enough signal so we can call 'em. Just think of how much more ground we could cover with all of us together."

"Guess we'll just have to wait until they get back in range," Cash replied with a weary shrug. "Hell, we don't even know if they've made it to Damosel yet. They could be halfway across the city, or even in the next star cluster for all we know."

"Perhaps so," Clank allowed, before giving Ratchet a knowing look. "However, given Ellen and her remarkable gift for timing, I suspect that we will not have to wait for much longer."

Before he could retort in kind, however, the lombax's ears pricked up at the faint roar of distant jet turbines rapidly getting closer. The carriage's other occupants noticing shortly thereafter, with several nervously gesturing towards the darkly painted ship he could just about make out between the press of bodies blocking most of the side windows. The utilitarian, militarised design, along with the pair of bulky-looking and heavily armed robots leaning from one of the already open cargo pods strapped to either side of the closest vessel, giving a pretty good indication as to their intent. Especially when their optics almost seemed to zero in on him specifically in spite of the surrounding crowd, swiftly followed by some heavy duty weaponry pointing towards their way.

"Oh hell... Everybody get down!"

Putting actions to his words, Ratchet immediately hit the deck along with everyone else as the train was rocked by a torrent of terrified screams and deafening gunfire. One of the robots apparently having access to a mounted machinegun and mercilessly raking a stream of lead across the carriage's length with wild abandon, while the other machine seemed content to take pot-shots with some kind of lightning gun, if the crackling surges of electricity playing across the windows were anything to go by. The train's own energy shielding, designed to protect its occupants against the immense energies output by the transit system's portal technology, thankfully proving to be more than enough to shrug off with heavy weapon's fire with ease.

Or so it seemed, until the train began to stutter and slow down beneath the onslaught; power fluctuations and sparking electricity pushing the already overtaxed generators to the brink, and causing some to blow out altogether. Their only relief coming in the form of a large rooftop advertising hoarding that forced the transport ship to temporarily break away. Swiftly disappearing from sight amongst the growing forest of skyscrapers that marked the city outskirts, and allowing the badly damaged train to gradually pick up speed again, albeit at a greatly reduced rate. The signs of heavy fighting and widespread destruction becoming more and more evident as the train began to pass through what was left of Damosel's financial district, with the much taller buildings and relatively cramped urban conditions providing at least some form of cover against their attacker's inevitable return.

But while Ratchet and company may have been long used to this kind of scenario by now and had already scrambled back to their feet, the press of badly traumatised and borderline hysterical civilians all around them were clearly not. The carriage quickly descending into chaos as panicked shouts and screams filled the air; drowning each other out with a cacophony of noise that made it virtually impossible to think clearly, let alone make oneself be heard above the din. Or at least, that is, until Cash Harding stepped in with a shotgun blast to the ceiling and a barked command to 'shut up and listen'. Steadfastly ignoring the shower of plasteel resin from above now decorating his hat in favour of getting the refugees organised and providing a sense of purpose for them to latch on to. The medically inclined among them soon tending to any injuries sustained in the attack with whatever supplies they had on hand, while others redistributed the few functional weapons remaining and prepared for the worst, or otherwise stayed huddled against the carriage's seats so as to keep out the way.

Which in turn bought the lombax and his diminutive best friend the moment's respite they needed to plan their next move and figure out a way to get these people to safety. Something that was proving to be a lot harder than anticipated, especially given the lack of available space or viable options. Though a brief glance at Cash's impromptu redecoration of the carriage's ceiling, and the emergency hatch a little further down from it in particular, sparked the beginnings of what Clank had long since learned to recognise as a typically 'Ratchet' idea. The kind that usually involved mass collateral damage and grievous risk of bodily harm, least of all to the lombax himself.

"Ratchet, no."

"Ratchet, yes!"

Raising an eyebrow at the sudden exuberant tone, Cash turned his gaze away from the refugees he was supervising in time to see Ratchet precariously standing atop a pair of the carriage's tightly packed seats, straddling across the central aisle. With several of the other survivors nearby looking on in bewilderment as the lombax finally managed to grab the emergency hatch release far above him and twist it with a resounding clunk of metal on metal, before swiftly stepping aside as the whole assembly swung down and deployed its collapsible ladder into the interior. "Hey! Where're you two going?"

"It's gettin' a little stuffy in here," Ratchet answered, shooting a typically feline smirk at the merc as he dusted off his gloves. "Figured I'd get some fresh air."

"Meaning that he intends to combat the Extermibots through... unconventional methods," Clank clarified with a droll tone from where he was attached to Ratchet's back once more, his face one of abject resignation

A second brow soon followed the first as Cash gave the little robot his full attention; his words slow and more than a little wary, given what he knew of lombax's previous exploits. "And by 'unconventional', you mean...?"

His answer came in the form of Ratchet leaning in closer with a comparative look in his eyes and a slowly widening grin as he nonchalantly asked, perhaps, the last question Cash had been expecting.

"You ever been train surfing before?"

{()}

From the moment she had first laid eyes on it, Ellen had considered the Allgon branch of Megacorp's flagship 'Mega-Malls' to be little more than a giant middle finger to what few corporate rivals they had. A monument to excess and corporate ego, rendered in sweeping glass and gleaming steel. Where the masses went to satiate their cravings for the latest trends and fashions, and any concept of fair competition had long since been thrown out the window. Right alongside the discarded dregs of overpriced coffee and whatever remained of last month's paycheque.

But it wasn't until they had taken their first tentative steps inside, however, passing through the ruined lobby area and into the mall proper, that she truly began to appreciate the sheer scale of the structure they were hoping to navigate. The ground floor alone had to be around the equivalent of a half dozen football pitches combined, not even counting the attached food court off to one side with its enclosed kids play area and amusement arcade. With nigh every inch of wall space dedicated to one store front or another, and what appeared to be a full fledged park situated directly in the middle; centred upon several brightly flowering trees and a grandiose, carved marble fountain that rose high above a decorative pond. An opulence that appeared to continue with what little she could see of the half dozen or so floors above them, thanks to the open plan design. Necessitating the equally numerous banks of elevators and snaking escalators spread throughout all four points of the compass, so as to provide the mall's patrons with a much more efficient way to empty their wallets faster, and an obvious way out in the event of an emergency.

'For all the good it did them', Ellen thought darkly as she carefully ascended one such escalator with halting steps and her carbine held in a vice-like grip as she scanned for any signs of movement on the floor above. The mall's power having apparently long since failed at some point during the initial outbreak and rendering both it and the elevators all but useless; not to mention plunging a majority of the interior into darkness, save for what little filtered in from the mostly shuttered skylights far above their heads. Her helmet's light amplification feature managing to compensate to some degree, despite bathing her vision in dull green hues that only seemed to make things look ten times creepier, while Angela's flashlight and the faint glow of Samus' optics helped to chase the shadows away.

But as she stepped off the stationary escalator and on to the second floor itself, briefly pausing to sweep the immediate area before signalling the others to follow her up the remaining steps, Ellen couldn't shake the gnawing feeling in her stomach that something was watching them from afar with malevolent eyes. The fact they had yet to encounter any Protopets inside the mall not helping in the slightest, and only adding to the rising tension with each passing second as they cautiously threaded their way through the bloodied, scattered remains of some unfortunate soul's shopping. Their footsteps echoing unnaturally loud in the otherwise deafening silence, seemingly in time with her own already thundering heartbeat and each short, shuddering breath she took. Her eyes straining to pick out the slightest hint of movement amidst the all pervading darkness, trigger finger poised and taking up the strain.

With so much lingering tension in the air, not to mention the knowledge of what they were up against, it was perhaps little wonder then that Ellen responded instinctively when a shapeless flicker of movement suddenly crossed their path. The knee-jerk burst of automatic fire missing its intended target by a wide margin, and only serving to provide brief glimpses of a shapeless blue something between muzzle flashes, like some kind of stop motion puppet. But there was no mistaking the sudden, low hissing and animalistic growling that seemed to spontaneously rise from all around them; the shadows appearing to twist and stretch into unnatural shapes as Angela's flashlight nervously darted from place to the next. Nor the growing cacophony of noise that swiftly became a crescendo, and soon had all three of them slowly edging away from the ever-growing mass of fuzzy malevolence that was about to descend upon them in droves.

It was simply a question of who would strike first, and bitter experience had long since taught Ellen that the Protopets had zero concept of patience.

Even so, it was still a surprise when the first attack came not from in front, but rather one of the mall's many ventilation ducts right above her head. An instinctive burst of fire swatting the lunging mass of fur and gnashing teeth out of the air before it could gnaw her face off, while Angela helped to take care of the few stragglers following close behind it. But while it may have been a temporary inconvenience at best, the feint had seemingly served its purpose in both distracting the trio and acting as a signal to the rest of the Protopet horde, which promptly surged forth in a tidal wave of blue death. Practically jumping over one another in their overwhelming desire to kill and consume all in their path, and promptly turning the team's orderly retreat into an outright rout.

"Damn it, Pearce!" Angela yelled over the staccato bursts of gunfire Ellen was sending downrange, before tossing one of her homebrew grenades into the charging mass of ferocious, fluffy bodies seeking to tear them limb from limb. "This is not my idea of quick and quiet!"

"Well, look on the bright side!" Ellen shouted back, still firing on the move as they frantically fell back across the glass-lined walkway they had crossed mere moments ago. The grenade detonating with a resounding crump and almost drowning out her next words, along with the wailing shrieks of now thoroughly napalm-coated Protopets. "At least we know they're here now!"

How is that a 'bright side'?!_ Samus shot back hysterically. Barely managing to jink aside as an enterprising Protopet attempted to snatch her out of the air, only to be smacked down in turn by a deft swing of a purloined frying pan she had snatched up from one of the many piles of discarded shopping scattered across the floor. There has to be thousands out there, and they just keep coming!_

Ellen, for her part, didn't have an immediate answer; or at least not one that would offer any form of comfort at least. Because the little infobot wasn't far wrong, and given what little she could pick out in the perpetual darkness, not to mention their own exposed position and heavily depleted ammo reserves, it didn't take a genius to figure out that they were living on borrowed time. Especially given the sheer numbers they were facing, with what looked like another mob gathering to cut them off from the other end of the walkway, and even more Protopets pouring up the escalators from below. Rapidly surrounding them on all fronts and leaving no chance for escape from the ever shrinking cordon of bodies closing in by the second in spite of their best efforts.

Or so it seemed until, in their frantic attempts to stave off the inevitable, a brief glimpse of the still running, ornate central fountain down below through the walkway's glass partition sparked an equally desperate, half-baked idea. One that had Ellen throwing all caution to the wind, along with a few of her last remaining Megaturrets to provide additional cover, before digging through her Quick Select for the one gadget that she prayed Ratchet hadn't seen fit to borrow. Angela's snarled demand as to the human's sanity dying on her lips at Ellen's triumphant cry as the wide, arcing sheets of water, almost reaching their floor at its apex, promptly flash froze under the Thermenator's liquid cooling solution. Forming an ad hoc and particularly perilous platform for them to escape across, which Ellen wasted no time in putting to the test by vaulting over the walkway's partition while yelling over her shoulder.

"Come on! Hurry!"

In spite of any reservations Angela might have had at throwing herself off a walkway dozens of feet above the ground, not being eaten alive by a horde of genetic abominations made for a very compelling argument, and thus wasn't far behind. But then again, neither was the by-now condensed horde of Protopets either; having thoroughly swamped most of the second floor and not willing to let their prey go in the slightest now that they could practically taste it. With several spilling over the third floor's glass partition and landing heavily on the newly created ice sculpture all around the lombax, slipping and sliding along in pursuit as she tried and failed to find her footing once more. The lombax almost skidding off the side altogether were it not for Ellen's fast reactions and steadying grasp, or Samus using her thrusters to help keep the three of them balanced until they could successfully cross over to the far side with drunken, swaying motions and the crackle of breaking ice underfoot.

As it was, the three of them were only just managing to keep one step ahead of their pursuers, with the veritable carpet of salivating, fuzzy terrors gathered around the fountain's base far below not helping their collective nerves in the slightest. Nor was the fact that their frozen platform ended a good several feet away from the third floor's opposite side. Leaving Ellen to punt one of the pursuing Protopets off the edge when it got too close as she fumbled one-handed for her Grapple Gun; pointing it at the far wall and firing off a high tensity line, before pressing it into Angela's hand. "Here, take it!"

"What about you?" Angela shot back as she got to grips with the unfamiliar gadget, along with a few blindly fired rounds from her pistol over one shoulder to keep the monsters at bay. "How're you supposed to get across?"

"That's what my Jump Pack's for, and Samus can fly," the human offered hurriedly, briefly grunting as a Protopet latched on to her leg before running it through with her Versa Blade. "Just bloody go! I'll be right behind you!"

With no time or will to argue, Angela squeezed the Grapple Gun's trigger and was promptly reeled in with a startled yelp at the unexpected force. Her flailing boots catching on the third floor walkway's glass partition as she blew past it at breakneck speed, and sending her tumbling into a barely controlled roll that ended with a bone jarring thump against the opposite wall. Just in time to catch sight of Samus and a Jump Pack assisted Ellen clearing the same obstacle with much a little more grace and an abortive landing of her own, along with a few limpet-like hangers on that were promptly dealt with between them once the pair had stumbled back to their feet. Only for the redhead to swiftly reverse course and push herself back towards the safety barrier with her Thermenator equipped once more; using it's secondary thermal solution to return the ice bridge to it's original liquid state, and dropping the remaining Protopets attempting to cross it into the waiting jaws of their fellows down below.

"Christ, that was close," Ellen opinioned between short, sharp breaths, trying to get her racing heart under control. "I can't believe that actually worked."

Neither can I_ Samus answered as she darted over to assist Angela, only to be waved off as the lombax staggered back to her feet with a pained grunt. I thought you didn't like heights?_

"Oh God, don't remind me..."

Ellen shivered visibly at the thought of what she had just done without a second thought, and of just how many things could have gone wrong in those fleeting, impulsive moments. Her spiking, fear-fuelled adrenaline only tempered by the disgust she felt for the audibly squealing sounds of a feeding frenzy taking place a few floors below, and fact they weren't exactly out of the woods just yet. Especially since they only had a matter of moments at most before the Protopets inevitably caught up, not to mention a good few more floors to climb before reaching any form of rooftop access, and Ellen didn't fancy pushing their luck again anytime soon.

"Come on, we need to keep moving."

Pausing briefly to retrieve her Grapple Gun from where it had skidded out of Angela's grasp, the redhead hadn't taken more than a few steps towards the nearest escalator leading upwards, when the sound of said lombax clearing her throat caught Ellen's attention. "Hey... Pearce?"

"Yeah?" Ellen absently replied, briefly turning to face her companions. Only to pause once again at the obvious metal door with 'emergency stairwell: staff only' stencilled upon it that Angela was pointing at with an undeniable degree of smugness.

"I think this way might be better."

And I think we need to go_ Samus chimed in nervously as a fresh wave of Protopets began to surge towards them; having already circled the third floor and closing in fast from either side. Like, right now!_

With no time to lose, Angela and Ellen were practically tripping over one another in their mad scramble to open the door. The pressurised seal and push bar lock proving no obstacle to their combined force ramming it at speed, and subsequently bursting inwards with a tortured screech of metal on metal as the door slammed into the railing of a stairwell on the far side. The trio swiftly following just behind, cramming themselves into the dark, confined space just as the initial vanguard of fluffy horrors reached them, before wrenching the battered door back into place and sealing it once more. The muffled banging and shrieking of countless Protopets trying to force their way through only encouraging Ellen to work faster as she used the heated edge of her Versa Blade to weld the door to its frame. With Angela and Samus throwing their weight against the metal slab, and helping to keep it shut long enough for the human to finish her work.

Once done, the trio wasted no time in putting some distance between them and the, at best, temporary barricade. All caution thrown to the wind as they practically flew up one flight of the switchback stairwell after the next; leaving only the occasional turret or proximity triggered bomb in their wake. Which was just as well, since no sooner had they reached what Ellen assumed to be the seventh or eighth floor - having lost track in their panicked flight - when the sounds of tearing metal and frantic chittering reached them from far below. Shortly followed by a series of rapid explosions as the unending swarm of Protopets surged up the stairwell and set off the traps left behind on each landing. With more still bursting in from ventilation shafts or the other emergency doors on each level in ever increasing numbers; assaulting them from every angle, and forcing the team to push themselves further still in a desperate effort to stay one step in front of the relentless horde.

Just as they were flagging and about to reach their limits, however, the stairwell finally terminated on a short corridor leading to an equally dull, yet sturdy-looking door. The words 'rooftop access' stencilled across the upper half in faded white paint bringing more than a little relief, and giving the team all the incentive they needed to push themselves that bit further still. The clearly disused door groaning in protest as Ellen tackled it with an armoured shoulder and forced the gummed up hinges to move for perhaps the first time in years, before stepping aside to let her companions squeeze through the resulting gap while she lay down a barrage of covering fire with what little ammo she had left. Only deigning to retreat herself once the other two were through and Angela screamed for her to 'hurry up', before tossing her sole remaining, Megacorp issued demolition charge down the corridor and making a break for it.

Even then, it was a difficult prospect to force her armoured torso through the still partially jammed door, thanks in no small part to her Jump pack getting caught on the frame in spite of Samus' efforts to help dislodge it. But after a few heart stopping seconds with Angela plugging away at the Protopets still taking chunks out of her greaves, Ellen managed to pop through the gap and tumble aside, just as the demo charge went off with a deafening 'boom'. Collapsing a good chunk of the roof access corridor and the stairwell behind it, while simultaneously burying nigh all of the horde's frontrunners under who knows how many tons of rubble, and hopefully preventing the rest from reaching their rooftop retreat. A rooftop that was currently covered in a slowly dissipating, choking cloud of masonry dust as the thoroughly rattled redhead pushed her groaning self up to into a sitting position, before blearily searching for any signs of her team-mates.

"Samus? Angela? Everyone okay?"

"I've had better days," Angela managed to grouse between hacking coughs from somewhere behind an air conditioning unit off to Ellen's right. The dust cloud finally settling long enough for her to catch sight of the lombax pacing towards her, gloved hand over mouth while the other frantically waving any lingering remnants away from her face. "Mostly before I ran into you and that crazy boyfriend of yours."

Ellen couldn't help but snort in amusement, a wry smile gracing her lips as she accepted the lombax's extended hand and hauled herself back to her feet. "Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment." Pausing, the redhead frowned as she took in the remainder of the rooftop, and the by now thoroughly collapsed pile of rubble that was the roof access stairwell in particular. The distinct lack of a certain little infobot's response and accompanying, nervous chattering giving rise to a knot of worry in her stomach. "What about Samus? Have you seen her, is she alright?"

Before Angela could do anymore than shake her head, however, a stuttering electronic whine and sporadic, familiar sound of micro thrusters interspersed with grinding metal filtered across the otherwise open area behind them. The pair turning to face the source almost in sync, and blinking in equal parts surprise and bewilderment at the sight of a clearly struggling Samus, somehow having managed to get herself tangled up in the imposing antennae array base unit that took up a vast majority of the rooftop. The very same one, in fact, that they had originally spotted upon approaching the mall, and hypothesized catalyst for the Protopet outbreak.

"How did she even...?"

"I have no idea," Angela replied, shaking her head both at Ellen's leading question and in some small amusement at the little infobot's predicament. "I mean, I know she's a little on the light side, but..."

Um... A little help, please?_ Samus tentatively asked. Her optics averted and pink paintjob feeling somewhat appropriate given her level of embarrassment as she wriggling ineffectively against the multitude of struts and wiring she had somehow gotten wrapped up in.

Thankfully for all involved, it didn't lake long to carefully extract Samus form her undignified predicament and, dignity aside, she was none the worse for wear. Unfortunately, that still didn't alter the fact they were presently stuck on top of an overrun, Protopet infested shopping mall with no obvious way back down, plus a veritable horde of the fuzzy little terrors clawing away somewhere beneath their feet. No doubt already tunnelling their way up through the collapsed stairwell if the faint sounds Ellen could hear from beneath the piles of rubble were anything to go by, let alone piling through the various ventilation ducts scattered throughout the complex that inevitably led towards their temporary rooftop refuge.

"We don't have much time," Ellen summarised with grim finality, before forcefully tearing her gaze away and settling on Angela's currently crouching form. The lombax already busy scanning the array's base unit with her Wrist Com and an all too familiar, accompanying scowl. "Any idea how we stop this thing?"

"Believe me Pearce, I'm trying," Angela growled out between forcefully stabbing at the holographic keyboard projected scant inches in front of her face. Eyes scarcely blinking as they rapidly darted over the mass of code scrolling currently down her Wrist Com's screen at a dizzying rate. "But honestly, I'm not sure if I even can do anything here. This system is way beyond anything I've ever come across before, and the transmitter has so many security measures and failsafes that It'd take me months to get through the first few layers."

"So that's a 'no' on shutting down the Protopets at the source, then," Ellen sighed, any hopes of ending the furry menace in one fell stroke now fully dashed. "What about the signal you were tracking?"

"It's not like flipping a switch, Pearce," the lombax growled in increasing frustration. Ears twitching and voice clipped as she continued to talk and type in an equally tense manner. "Shutting down the transmission source won't magically stop the Protopets from rampaging across the city. Only prevent any more from becoming infected, and I seriously doubt there's many of those left." Pausing only to rub her eyes in increasing frustration, Angela barely spared the redhead a glance before continuing her efforts once more. "About the only thing I can tell you is that our original hypothesis seems to be right. There's definitely a secondary signal hidden beneath the main Megacorp broadcast loop on a very high frequency, and get this; the signal was only activated exactly two hours after the initial Protopet launch event at this mall."

So... you mean someone really did do all of this on purpose?_ Samus hesitantly asked, her optics wide and frame quivering in visible distress, before promptly being pulled into a hug by her human companion. But why?! What could anyone possibly hope to gain from all this... This..._

"I don't know," Ellen replied with narrowing eyes and a voice born of steel; starkly contrasting with the gentle motions of her hand rubbing the little infobot's back. "But one way or the other, we're going to find out. And when we do, I'm going to be doing more than just paying them a visit."

"You and me both, Pearce," Angela sighed, finally stopping her work long enough to give both team-mates her full attention. "But as of right now, we're not going anywhere without knowing who, what, or where we're after, and we still need to find the other three before we can get the hell off this planet."

Isn't there anything you can do?_ Samus asked, her optics dull and downcast as she met the lombax's gaze. Some way to trace where the signal originally came from, or who set it up in the first place?_

"Or better yet, a way to boost our Wrist Com's signal strength so we can get past all this interference," Ellen chimed in, releasing Samus from her hold and letting the infobot hover off to one side. "The sooner we can get back in contact and link up, the better our chances."

Cupping her chin with a thoughtful frown, Angela briefly stared off into space before hesitantly answering. "Shouldn't be too difficult to piggyback off the original transmission signal and cut through the jamming, just so long as I don't go too deeply into the more secure areas of the uplink's software. Give me five minutes and I'll see what I can do." Turning her attention towards their smallest team-mate, she gave Samus a sympathetic look. "And sorry, Samus, but if whoever did this is halfway competent, then any traces are already long gone. The best I can do is try to copy the secondary signal's code for later analysis. Maybe then we can start figuring out how all of this happened in the first place."

"Sounds good," Ellen began, only for the words to die in her throat as the pile of rubble they had left behind slowly began to shift and bulge. Loose debris tumbling down the small mound in increasing numbers, and utterly failing to disguise the growing sound of ravenous chittering coming from somewhere underneath. The human wasting no time in drawing her Blitz Cannon and chambering the first round with a perhaps a little more force than necessary; her frame taut and nerves showing, even as she prepared to spring into action at a moment's notice. "Samus, see if you can't give her a hand. Doc, if you've got any proxy based bombs left, now would be a good time to use them."

Watching with increasing worry as the lombax hastily tossed a civilian grade Quick Select unit towards her human friend, Samus couldn't help but voice her thoughts aloud. What are you going to do?_

Quickly setting all manner of random explosive devices against ventilation ducts and other likely breaching points, Ellen rapidly retreated back towards the centre of the rooftop before deigning to reply. Her words almost lost with the rumbling collapse of rubble from the buried stairwell as dozens of Protopets began to stream out, before promptly being engulfed in a sea of napalm and electrified buckshot.

"Buy you some time to work. Now go!"

Yeah, I know, another cliff-hanger. But you know what they say about best laid plans, and at least I'm finally making progress. I just had far too much stuff blocked out in order to fit inside a single chapter without feeling like a cop out, and especially after the previous chapter's gradual build up. That said, I have no intentions of dragging things out unnecessarily, and the next chapter will definitely wrap up Damosel for good. Honest.

Updates might be a little on the slower side until I can finally find my footing once again, but I'll be damned If I'm going to make you all wait so long again. Until then, thank you once again for all your support, and hope to see you soon. Wish me luck.

Review replies:

Dovahkiin795 -Did I say 'delayed'? I meant 'glacial'. But yeah, the story's still not dead.

AustinGamer117 - Thanks Austin, I really appreciate it. If anything, I think I might end up putting a little too much detail into chapters and getting carried away more often than not. And don't worry; one way or another, I will finish this story, regardless of how long it takes.

Stephenieeiche10 - Hey, a new reviewer! And thank you; hopefully things will get a little easier from here on out.

GamerHeart - Aw, thanks! I'm honestly not sure what I'd do without people like you to keep prodding me in the right direction.

Bookwriter94 - Thank you, and I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter in spite of the long wait. I honestly haven't really had much chance to touch for the last several months outside of replying to PMs, what with everything else going on, but I'd love to take a look at your own works when I've got a chance. Here's hoping my own endeavours go a little better than they have been, and that I can keep a decent update schedule once more.

Razor of DOOM - I think you might be right. I could even play it off as a random glitch in Ellen's translator, for want of a better excuse.

Snow Wolf Alpha - I just don't like the idea of letting people down, and especially since I know so many of the story's readership have eagerly been waiting for it's conclusion. But thank you; I feel a lot better, circumstances not withstanding, and hope to get this story back on track soon.

DarkEnigma95 - It's good to be back, even if it's in sporadic doses with things the way they are on the home front right now. Events on Damosel are certainly fast shifting towards a fluffy apocalypse, and I believe the words you're looking for are 'all you can eat buffet'. Unlike canon,

it's going to take some seriously harsh measures to save the planet, or what's left of it, and our heroes are woefully ill equipped…

Vendicor - Glad you liked it, and I certainly hope to get things back on track soon now the worst of my personal drama has (hopefully) blown over. I've tried to give my take on the Ratchet and Clank universe a more grounded feel without losing the fantastical elements that make it such a great setting in the first place. It's just a question of not going too dark without good reason. Oh, and don't worry about not reviewing earlier; I'm just happy to hear from you again.

SaintDark - Oh hey, another new reviewer! Glad to hear you're liking both stories so far, and the characterisation in particular. We are indeed getting towards the end - probably around six to ten chapters in all - and will hopefully be done by summer if all goes well. Wish me luck!

FederationThunderbolt - Don't worry, I've got no intention of abandoning this story whatsoever. If Ratchet and Ellen do eventually settle down and have kids, however, it won't be for a very long time yet. After all, it's kind of difficult trying to balance galaxy spanning adventures and good parenting.

Firestar5277 - Thank you for your kind words and understanding; I really do appreciate it. For Damosel, I… kind of ran with the worst case scenario, so to speak. Maybe a little too far, given how dark a picture I've painted of the outbreak, but one I though to be a bit more realistic than canon, given the sheer scale involved. I don't want to give anything away with regards to Qwark, but lets just say our heroes won't exactly be pleased to see him, and Ellen in particular will be eager to introduce her boot to his unmentionables once the truth comes out.

(Slow clap). Okay, that pun was awful in the best possible way. I love it! Here's my counter:

What do you get if you cross a battery and a baguette? Everbready!

JoelFenell1 - Thanks!