Return to Veldin, a ratchet and clank fanfic

Disclaimer: I own squat. Insomniac owns R&C and everybody in there. I just own my own origional characters. I'm also making squat. As in, NOTHING. Absolutely, positively, NOTHING!

Challenge Clank Hi-Score: 8750

Start-finish times: 28:17, 10:31

Begun: Monday, December 30, 2002, 3:31:14 PM

Finished: Wednesday, June 25, 2003, 2:11:22 AM

Yes, this is a break from my usual Jak & Daxter fics. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten you guys! I just felt the need to write this. It's an odd idea I had. Takes place a month or two after the end of Ratchet & Clank, when everything's starting to go back to normal (or as normal as a galaxy of furry and three-fingered aliens and smart-bots gets). Sorry if anyone's OOC. Writer's block came and went throughout the whole thing, so it's probably a little choppy. And, a lot of this was written at two and three in the morning. I'm not sane then. ;) Then again, I'm NEVER sane, LOL! ^_^ Sorry if it's a little long.

Also, when I started this fic, no one but Insomniac themselves knew anything about "Going Commando" (no, you sickos, I mean the game). So, it doesn't really fit that storyline, as both it and mine pick up after the ending (or, maybe mine could come after it, too, since mine's a little later than they say GC is). This represents a good seven month's hard work. Do you think I could join Insomniac?

RETURN TO VELDIN

                Ratchet and Clank were out on what they called "patrol". Really, it was Ratchet's excuse to kill time and cure boredom. It basically involved flying from planet to planet and asking if everything was alright and possibly helping out. The possibility being that Clank could talk his furry companion into it, of course. He'd still rather go hoverboarding and blow prizebolts on Nanotech and try to outbelch the other racers than do real work. One would think saving the galaxy would change a guy, but he was still a big goofball.

                He landed on Batalia without too much trouble. After his first landing attempt had resulted in a blown ship, Clank had given him some very quick crash-course-style lessons in how to not crash. They stepped out into the perpetual storm that seemed to rage endlessly on the millitary planet and left for the fort. However, before the cockpit could close completely, a dark shadow slunk into it and coiled up in the pilot's seat. It didn't start the ship, or try to sabotage it; in fact, it fell asleep, mumbling about familiar smells.

                Several hours later, the duo returned looking rather shabby. The comander had put them through a big search, saying his "hairball" was missing and could be in trouble. She was described as a skinny Lombax girl, about Ratchet's age. They had been forced to run all over the planet looking for her and had found nothing. They weren't even sure what she looked like, other than she was from Veldin. That alone should have been enough, though, considering that Lombax were a pretty distinctive species. Not only were they the only species with five fingers, they were also the only species with fur and tails of any considerable length. Their ears also gave a nice shape to their shadows, too.

                Climbing onto the wing of his black fighter jet, Ratchet jumped back in alarm when he prepared to get in his seat. He landed on Clank, who didn't really appreciate the sudden chiropractic help. The fuzzball himself was more concerned with what he'd seen than who he'd sat on. There was something, or rather, someone, in his seat! It appeared to be the girl they had been searching for, but perhaps the whole experience with Drek had changed a few things. One, namely, was Ratchet's suspicions: they were now on full allert to everything and everyone he did not know and understand. Cautiously, ingnoring the little robot he had just sat on, he approached again, this time with his wrench in hand.

                The wind shifted and blew rain into the cockpit. The small droplets hit her semi-dry fur and disturbed her. She moved and yawned, slightly adjusting herself so as to be out of most of the rain. It persisted, however, and she had to open her eyes. At first, because her back was turned, she failed to notice either of the two boys who merely stared at her waking form. She was pitifully thin and her coat showed a lack of care for at least a year, perhaps more. Her clothes - a green army uniform - were threadbare and good only for protection from prying eyes, not cold. They were in shreds. However, as Ratchet drew an oddly noisy breath, she turned around and gasped and jumped back, cowering.

                "Please-don't-hurt-me!" She hurried the words, as if wanting to get them out before she was beaten to a pulp. "I-didn't-touch-anything---I-swear! I-just-wanted-to-get-out-of-the-rain! Please-don't-hurt-me, please-don't-hurt-me, pleasedon'thurtme..."

                Ratchet laughed and lowered his wrench. She was clearly no threat. "Hey, chill out. We won't hurt you. Right, Clank?"

                "Yes, that is correct. We will not harm you, madam."

                Now it was her turn to laugh. "I'm no madam," she said, with a sort of dignity that went beyond polite titles. "I'm not even that much of a female. I've lived in the barracks so long, I've forgotten what a normal girl my age does! All I do is drill and wait for mess. And then wait for mess again...the food's been hard to get lately...what with the Blarg attacks and all...it cleared up after somebody shot down the air carriers, but...I still don't get much..." Her voice trailed off, sadly.

                "Oh..." Even Ratchet was at a loss for words. After all, he wasn't used to talking to girls that didn't have food; he was used to ones that deprived themselves of it willingly. "Hey, you know, you look...kinda...kinda familliar. Like someone I used to know... Vel? Is that you?"

                "What...? How do you... how do you know my name? Everyone calls me 'hairball'; I didn't think anyone even remembered I had a name. Who are you?"

                "Vel, don't you recognize me? It's me, Ratchet."

                "Ratchet?" Her expression was a muddle of confusion and disbelief. She twisted her face up, scrunching her nose in memory. It came to her. "Ratchet, is that...is that you?" He nodded, barely containing himself. She tackled him, burrying her face in his shoulder and pinning him to the ground in a playful, friendly gesture.

                "Oof! Vel, look, I'm happy to see you too, but did you really have to do that now?" A muffled complaint came from under him. "I don't think Clank appreciated my landing on him twice." She laughed and allowed them to get up, but kept her arms around his neck. "C'mon, Vel, get off; this is really embarrassing!"

                "So, Ratchet, is this a friend of yours?" the little robot asked after making sure everything was still in place.

                "Er, well, yeah, actually, she's a really good friend of mine. From when we were kids," he said, prying her arms loose. He panted, regaining his breath; she still had quite a grip for someone so small.

                "Yeah, we were friends way back when on Veldin. Then my dad had to move and we haven't seen each other since."

                "This sounds like quite an interesting tale. Might I suggest we climb in and dry ourselves before finishing it?"

                "Sure, Robo-boy, you 'might suggest' that. And I agree!" They radioed the Comander and told him that they had found her and she got permission to go with them. The three of them had a rather hard time fitting into the cockpit, however. Any two of them would have fit just fine, but there wasn't room for a third. Vel offered to squat behind the seats, since she was intruding anyway, and Clank had to start the engine. The back of the jet was equiped with plenty of towels and even a few changes of clothes. The two Lombax took turns, Ratchet merely switching pants and Vel discarding her whole army getup for a flightsuit two sizes too big. It was really only one size too big, but she was underweight. "Say, you guys wouldn't happen to have any food, would'jya? I haven't eaten in a while, and I could sure use something about now."

                "I have some energy bars, but that's about all. We're low on supplies as it is. I always keep a little something in here for when we get back from a mission." Ratchet dug around in a compartment full of wrappers and empty soda cans for something unopened. "Here ya go: one half-smashed Nanotech energy bar. Pretty much tasteless, but it's food." She tore into the wrapper and scarfed the blue-tinged contents without so much as a 'thank you'. "Woah, Clank, remind me never to get between her and food."

                "Noted and logged," the robot replied. Ratchet sighed mentally; Clank still didn't get his jokes. "Since we are low on supplies, why don't we stop off at another planet and reload? I heard Pokitaru is a lovely romantic gettaway this time of th- " He was quickly cut off by Ratchet, who clamped a hand over the metalic creature's mouth and whispered hoarsely,

                "Not. One. Word. Got it?" Clank nodded, but his eyes showed he was thinking otherwise. Never had he seen Ratchet so flustered over something so trivial. After all, he only suggested...

                "Hey, I always wanted to visit Pokitaru! Can we go? Puh-lease?" She was a poor begger; her attempt at big, puppy-ish eyes was really more scary than cute. Ratchet laughed and nodded.

                "Sure, why not? I'd like to see what's happened there, anyway. It's been a while."

                "And during our flight, you can tell us your story, miss."

                "What did I tell you about calling me that?! If I'm so important that you have to call me something other than my name, then I'm too important to speak to you." She stuck her nose in the air in attempt to copy rich snobs, then burst out laughing.

                'Yup, that's Vel, all right. She always did hate to be called anything like that. Never liked formalities.' Ratchet smiled at his old friend's strange personality. She was a tomboy, through and through. Perhaps that was why they had been friends: they could hang out together and not feel strange. Hoverboarding was a real sport to her, not "something dumb boys did". Burping was funny, not disgusting. So were frogs and bugs and dirt. Captain Qwark was a cool radio show. They could've sat for hours, listening to the program, back when they were kids.

                "As long as you promise not to call me stupid garbage any more, I'll tell you. My father was a drifter, back before I was born. And a fighter pilot before that. He planet-hopped. When my mom was pregnant with my older brother, he finally decided to return to Veldin. I was born not too long after him. That's actually where my name comes from: it's really just a shortened 'Veldin', because I'm his only child completely from there. Everyone else was born or at least conceived somewhere else. That's what my mom told me. Anyway, I grew up there."

                "We met one day in this shop our fathers both visited," Ratchet put in. "We were...what? Three? Four? It was really strange, meeting a kid my own age. Even a girl."

                "He quickly learned that just because I'm a girl doesn't make me a pushover. In fact, that's what happened: we ran into each other, and I knocked him down."

                "She didn't even offer to help me back up!"

                "Well, why should I have? You got right back up all on your own and didn't give me time to offer my help. We ended up hanging out together a lot. Even after I got sick."

                Clank looked as confused as a robot ever does. "Why should your health have any effect on your friendship?"

                "Well...you tell 'em, Ratchet. You tell this one better than me."

                "Okay. I went over to her house to see if she'd like to go down to the creek with me and catch frogs - hey, don't you start laughing yet! Her mom told me she was sick, so I asked if I could speak to her for a minute. When I got to her room, though, she was asleep. Her tail was in the air, so I thought I'd pull it - "

                "You would pull your own friend's tail? Ratchet, you make less sense to me every day!"

                "Oh, be quiet. We always did that to each other. It was a big game. Really funny, some of the things that happened." He smiled in nostalgia. "Anyway, I pulled her tail - "

                "But my mom forget to warn him that it was a stomach virus, and that movement made me sick."

                "You ask me to tell this story, then neither of you will shut up!"

                "Go on, fuzzy. Go on," she laughed back at him, playfully taunting. She had quickly slipped out of military mode after reuniting with an old friend.

                "Naturally, she turned around really fast. I mean, what does anybody do when their tail's pulled, right? Well, that motion sickness..."

                "I barfed on 'im!" Her voice rose to a high, excited shriek as the two howled with laughter at the old memory. Clank, however, looked as though he would vomit. "Things went back to normal after he got over the virus, too. At least I had the sense not to disturb him when he was sick." Here she playfully glared at Ratchet. "Yeah, well, aside from that little incident, nothing much really happened."

                "Whadda ya mean, 'nothing happened'!? I got my OmniWrench and lost my baby coat on the same day - my seventh birthday!"

                "Well, there was that, wasn't there, fuzzball?" she teased. Ratchet had taken so long to loose his fluffy baby fur and get his sleeker adult coat. Normally, it happened around five, but he had taken an extra two years, for one reason or another. Vel had started calling him 'fuzzball' because of this, and the name still stuck, even with Gadgetron vendors. "When he lost his cub fur, his dad bought him that oversized wrench there. He was so dang proud of it, too. Had to show me it at five A.M.; couldn't wait for noon. Could ya, fuzzball?"

                "Vel, please. Stop calling me that. I lost it years ago!" She really looked at him for the first time in almost nine years. He really had grown up. His fur was thick and velvety-looking, unlike hers. Her coat might have been just as nice if it weren't for a lack of showers in the baracks, but there were almost none, so hers was dull and sparse in many places. His face, although it hadn't changed too much, was different enough for her to have difficulty recognizing him at first. More mature, but still young and playful. He looked stronger, too. More muscular. Not like a body-builder, just athletic. Lean and lithe. Come to think of it, he was kinda cute.

                She quickly dismissed her thoughts and laughed. Then, her face grew serious. "When I was nine, my dad anounced we were moving. I didn't really know why, and he wouldn't tell me. All I remember is him saying to 'think of it as a really long vacation'. I heard him and mom talking one night about 'safety', but that's all. We had to go. It was sorta like a vacation, I guess. We went all over the place. We went to hoverboard races in Blackwater and my sister went shopping in all the big cities and sunned on all the wilderness planets. I thought she was boring."

                "Then, I got this crazy idea to build a spaceship and go find her. Don't ask me what I was thinking."

                Clank grinned mischeviously. Or rather, tried to. His robotic face only showed so much expression. His voice, however, was fully expressive. "You were thinking you were in lo-mphf!" His remark was once again stopped by a quick glove to the mouth. Vel either didn't get it or chose to ignore it, because she just gave them a blank look.

                "Anyway, while she was off who-knows-where, I worked on this ship. You remember the one I blew up, Clank? Yeah, that one. The one you found me with." His expression also added the silent threat, and you'll be no different if you let out another peep.

                "But, when I was about twelve, something started to go wrong. We didn't make stops in the big cities, and sometimes we skipped planets altogether. We ate less and never went to hoverboard races. My dad didn't gamble, but the tickets cost money. We couldn't afford much of anything. I was just old enough to begin to understand our problems. Then, when my dad dropped me off on planet Batalia with the Comander, who happened to be an old army friend of his, I knew something was wrong."

                "My, you must have been terribly frightened."

                "Naw, not really. I was a little scared, but not bad. I was more angry than anything. Angry with always being uprooted right when I was getting settled. Angry with being dropped off on some millitary planet with nothing to do. Just angry with my dad."

                "I guess that's about the time I heard the report on the radio, huh. I heard Vel's parents crashed their ship into Gadgetron Headquarters one day and just went crazy. Her father was like a whole different man, the one the police described. Like he'd just gone off the deep end - no offense or anything. They searched the wreckage and couldn't find anyone else, so they said his family was incinerated in the crash. I thought Vel was dead, so I stopped working on my ship. After all, why bother with a way when your reason to go is gone?"

                "Indeed, what is life, without love?"

                "Clank, I'm warning you. Next time, I'm not using my hand; I'm using my wrench. You should just be glad all the guns are stored in the back, and not up here with me!"

                "You guys are weird. What's up with you, anyway? Well, after I got wind of that, I asked the Comander why my dad would do such a thing. He said that my dad was convicted of conspiring with the Blarg and, as punishment for his treason, was kicked off of Veldin. I don't beleive he did; I think he was set up, framed. And, when money got too tight, he sent us off to live with his friends.

                "After that, I just sorta became the soldiers' mascot. They liked me, called me their 'little hairball', gave me scraps when food got scarce. The lunch people never gave me enough, because I couldn't really fight. I could sit up with a Blaster and snipe all day, but put me in a brawl and I'm useless. I used to like to go out and drill - before the attacks came, of course. I'd got out there and out-march every last one of 'em. They ended up splitting the platoon out into a box formation with me in the center so everyone could see. The only thing I couldn't do was pushups. I never could get those down. Well, I could, if I really tried hard, but I didn't like it. Instead, I stretched my stomach and back muscles out while they kissed the dirt.

                "Mess was the really funny scene, though. I always got to go first, because everybody let me in front of them. I wolfed my food and then wandered from table to table. They talked to me and a few even scratched behind my ears. I didn't really like that, though; they were getting a little too friendly, but as long as they didn't try anything else, I let them. It seemed to be good stress relief. Plus, if I stayed in one spot and drooled over someone's food long enough, they usually gave me some. Well, until food got scarce. Then only the really nice guys gave me any."

                "Yeah, well, life was no picnick for me, either. I thought you were dead, Vel!" She lowered her head, quietly, as if in respect. Or remorse, for upsetting him. "After a while I decided I wanted to go out and see the galaxy like you had. I wanted to fight crime like Captain Qwark. By the way, that guy's a total loser in person. I don't care how cool he thinks he is on the radio; he is one big jerk in real life. I got back to work on my ship. Just as I was finishing it up, Clank came along, and..." Ratchet proceeded to tell her of their adventures with the Blarg and "Supreme Executive Chairman" Drek, with a little help from Clank.

                When he had finished, they were entering Pokitaru's atmosphere. Ratchet made a perfect ten-point landing; his piloting skills had really come a long way. It was late, so he asked the resort owner if they could rent some rooms for the night. He had a bit of trouble, as everyone seemed to be out to get him just for finding a lost friend. She could hear his yelling from outside, even if she couldn't really follow the conversation.

                "NO! I do not want ONE room, I want TWO! ... No, one with two beds is not the same! ... Two different rooms! TWO!" He came out looking more than a bit ruffled. The fur all across his shoulders and neck was bristling, and his tail looked more like a bottle-brush.

                "You sure you lost that baby fur, fuzzball?" she teased.

                "Vel, now is not the time!" He growled and shoved an electronic key into her hands, then stormed off to find his room. Clank gave a mild shrug, which she returned, as if to say 'Ratchet's moody. So?', before he followed him to their room. She checked the room number on her key. It had a homing device which showed the location of her room and the help desk on a map, as well as her own location. She found her room, which, oddly enough, seemed to be on the opposite side of a mountain from the boy's.

                'Maybe this is a good thing. He needs some time to cool off.' She entered her room and looked around. A radio and lamp on a nightstand, a mirror, and a bed. A bed with big, fluffy pillows and silky-looking sheets. Another door lead to the private bathroom, where she quickly showered and changed into the bathrobe they provided. She could sleep in it easily; it was much more comfortable than her old army uniform. And sleep she did. She curled up under the soft sheets and nestled into the pillows, clutching one and laying on the other.

                The next morning found her wondering what to do. She really didn't want to wear the itchy flightsuit that bulged in all the wrong places. It made her look fat, if nothing else. She didn't really like the scraggly, underfed look she had now, but it was better than being a tub of lard. Then again, she shouldn't go wandering around in public in a bathrobe. But, it was a nice, modest bathrobe with an extra-wide sash that held the front very tighty closed. It wasn't like she'd be flaunting anything. She decided to go to the gift shop and buy herself some clothes.

                Then she checked her pockets. No bolts. Nothing. Nada. Not even an InfoBot she could sell for some. 'Well, maybe Ratchet will loan me a few.'

                Ratchet, however, was not in a loaning mood. He was more in a giving mood. As in giving Clank an extra mouth. The little robot had spent the entire night playing recordings of sappy love songs and reciting poetry that was enough to make him gag, which he had done once or twice. So, when she knocked on his door, he was less than thrilled. He was tired and only helf-dressed, even for him. Not very many guys are happy when they are greeted by a perky, overly-cheerful girl after their friend has kept them up all night teasing him about her and he's still in his boxers. Vel got half a look at him before he slammed the door in her face.

                "Good morning to you, too!" she yelled at the door, kicking it. She stormed down to the help desk and asked, in as calm a voice as she could muster, if their reservations had included meals. They had, luckily. She ate a huge breakfast. Well, it was huge to her. To a normal person, it would have seemed small, and to a teenage boy with an apetite the size of a galaxy, nothing more than a mouthful. She ate quickly and thanked the cook for a good meal, leaving behind a portion that she couldn't finish. Sandshark really wasn't so bad if you forgot that you probably looked your food in the eye the night before and it was thinking of eating you. The milk was better than she had ever remembered it tasting anywhere.

                She decided to try to get money for clothes one last time. Knocking on the door, she found Clank sitting alone on the bed. "Ratchet said to tell you that he, and I quote, 'had ta get some air and will be back later, if he feels like it', end quote."

                "It figgures. Mind if I sit down?"

                "Go right ahead. Why did you come here, anyway? Hoping to catch him in his underwear again?"

                "What?!?! Are you kidding me!? I've seen plenty of men in boxers, Clank, and trust me, I do not want to see any more. A lot of the soldiers ate breakfast in their undies, and it was NOT a pretty sight! What I really wanted was some bolts to buy new clothes. I really don't want to have to wear this bathrobe around, and that flightsuit is out of the question. Unless you think you can cough up your insides, I guess I've got to wait here."

                "Well, I don't think I could very well do that, but I do have some spare bolts I could give you. Here. Take them." She smiled and darted off to the gift shop, flipping through the racks of clothes like she'd seen her sister do. It was a new thing to her, this shopping. She did it all from memories of her older sister. There were tons of goofy skirts that seemed to come in two kinds: the long pleated kind gathered in funny spots, and the short kind that didn't need a tail hole because they were so short, your tail could hang naturally from underneath. And so many brightly-colored shirts in all sorts of prints. Blue with pink flowers, yellow-orange with green palm trees, you name it, they had it.

                "Doesn't this shop have anything decient?" Her outburst was unnoticed by the other girls, who seemed perfectly happy with the short skirt and bikini-top combinations they made. She wasn't going to get caught in something like that, though. Just as she was sure she'd been over every rack at least twice, she caught sight of a pair of ordinary-looking blue pants and a lavendar top that tied at the left side. They didn't quite meet, but she was happy with them. A tail hole could be cut or bitten in the back of the pants with ease. She paid and left, returning the leftover bolts and changing into her new clothes.

                She spent the rest of the day wondering along the beach. It was a warm day, the kind that made you sleepy. 'A sleeping Lombax couldn't very well defend herself, though,' she reasoned. She resisted the urge to lay down on the sand and sleep. Sandsharks were out and about and looking for an easy meal. They were harmless, as long as you kept a good, healthy distance between you and them. Get too close, though, and those nasty fins would suddenly become shredding mouths filled with knife-like teeth.

                As night fell, she started her return to her room. Upon passing the boys', she gave the door a small knock, just to see if Ratchet's "trip for air" had done him any good. Clank answered the door, so she assumed he was already asleep, even though it was so early. When she heard he had not returned all day, she volunteered to go find him. The robot said he was probably out swimming, so she decided to check the beach where she hadn't been; she had no idea of his O2 Mask.

                Ratchet, however, had spent the day diving and surfacing, trying to increase the amount of time he could hold his breath. The sewers of Blackwater had nearly drowned him, and Clank had been forced to use his propellers to get them out, and had been rusted up for it. The damage was easily repaired, but his ego was hurt, too. He wanted to go back and challenge those rising waters again. This time, if things got too bad, he could use his O2 Mask and swim out safely, but he wanted to make it all on his own. Completely. No help whatsoever. He was too absorbed in his trainings to notice the change from day to night, and continued to dive and surface, dive and surface, over and over, even though it was making him dizzy.

                He did pause, however, when he heard the soft whistling whine of someone amusing themselves as they walked along. He grabbed his Oxygen Mask and put it on, then dove under, hoping the reflection of the moon and the dark distortion of the water would hide him from whoever it was. He wanted to see who they were first and decided on his course of action that way; the last time he was taken by surprise, he had ended up fighting for his life. This time, the element of surprise was his. However, when he saw the big ears, he knew he needed to get completely out of sight. Vel was the only other creature on the planet with such ears, and she had a knack for spotting things under the water; she had always been the one to see the frogs first when they were kids. She would see him, and possibly confront him, but he didn't feel like talking about 'how he'd acted this morning'. A lecture just didn't suit him. He watched, silently, from behind a rock.

                She walked out to the end of the pier and looked down at her reflection. The moon siloughetted her against the black sky in the crystaline water's reflection. Her tail was wound tightly around her waist, as if it would become a handle for an enemy otherwise. She looked around, as if searching. She wondered if she hadn't missed Ratchet on a path and he had already gone back to his room. 'His and Clank's,' she reminded herself. 'That little robot has a mind of his own.' She wondered why she called Clank a "he"; robots had nothing distictively male or female about them, other than a synthesized voice that could be programmed either way.

                Ratchet slid around the back of the rock he was hiding behind and swam underwater to shore. He had to move quickly, so that his dripping would be masked by the loudest portion of the tide. Lombax had exceptional hearing and smell, even if their sight was only average. With what was an unusually well-planned move, he darted from the water and up the steep cliffside path. He slipped and fell, and the rolling, bouncing gravel caught her attention. Her ears perked up and she whirled into a battle-ready stance, thinking it was one of the large pink creatures that seemed to rule the little orange sharks. She smiled and relaxed, even to the point of allowing her tail to hang more comfortably.

                "Hey, what're you doing out here so late?" He froze, as if not responding would make her think she was just hearing things. "'Lo, Veldin to Ratchet!" She walked over to him, cocking her head. "Look, maybe you were tired this morning, but if you're still sleepy, then you shouldn't've been out swimming. And what, in the name of all that's fuzzy, are you wearing?"

                "It's an O2 Mask," he laughed, his voice muffled. He took off the mask. "For swimming. The resort owner gave it to me for getting rid of the Blarg ships. They were scaring the tourists."

                "Well, if he really wanted the tourists to come back, he oughta get rid of the Sandsharks. They chase me all over the place! I don't care what they taste like, and apparently, they don't care what I taste like, either." She sat down in the dirt a little ways away from him, just close enough that she could smack him with her tail if she wanted to. Which she did.

                "Hey, what was that for!?" He jumped back, pawing at his mouth.

                "For slamming the door in my face this morning. Now we're even."

                "I didn't HIT you."

                "Oh? Funny, I thought you did. It sure hurt like I was hit. Besides, it proves how slow you are. If someone as small as me can get the jump on you, immagine what an army with lots of training time behind them could do."

                "I don't plan on getting in another fight for a while, Vel. Besides, it's late, and I'm tired." With that, he stretched back in the dirt, not caring that it clung to his wet fur and clothes. In fact, as long as it kept out of his face and ears, he didn't care how much dirt got on him. "You know, I could probably sleep out here."

                "Not likely," she said, using the tasle on the end of her tail to tickle his nose. "Even if I were to let you sleep, - "

                "Yeah, yeah, I know: the Sandsharks would get me. Yadda, yadda, yadda..." He grabbed her tail. "And, don't do that."

                "Touch-chy, touch-chy, touch-chy. You used to laugh when I did that, Ratchet. What happened?" She coiled her tail around herself again, as if that would make it behave. He didn't answer.

                Truthfully, he wasn't sure what happened. His nose was still ticklish, and he had always enjoyed when she did that. It was still a nice feeling. Perhaps the reason now was that he did not want to give anyone any more ammo for their tease-guns. She looked at him, watching the way he breathed. 'For somone who breathes so shallow, he sure does have a good lung capacity,' she noted. His ribs were well-sprung, indicating that his lungs were of a larger size. But, he was barely using the top portion of them to breathe. It was a light, quick breath, like what she used in a fight. That was the only time she let her instincts take over and speed up her breathing; otherwise, she breathed as deeply as possible.

                She looked up at the sky. It was dark and sprinkled with stars, much like on Veldin or Batalia. Well, when Batalia had stars. Mostly it was cloudy, and a lot of those clouds carried rain. Veldin rarely saw rain, from what she remembered. It was dry, thin air, full of dust. The sunsets were always beautiful, but anyone with athesma or bronchitis was in trouble. Here, the air was salty-tasting and damp, full of sea-spray. She flicked her ears, quietly.

                Ratchet watched her with one eye. She seemed...sad? Why was that? Sure, he hadn't been all that friendly, but... she should've known better than to make people wonder. He sat up, shaking his shoulders to get the dirt off them. It didn't work. She was oblivious to it, though. Even when he shook hard enough to send muddy sand splattering against her back. However, when he reached to brush it off for her, she turned on one hip and caught his hand before he even got close. She grinned and tackled him, much like she had the first time. Only now he was ready and flipped her over his head, carefully.

                "So, you do still know how to play," she laughed, tilting her head back into the sand and rolling her blue-green eyes to look at him. "And here I was, thinking you had forgotten." She rolled over onto her elbows and tucked her knees under her, ready to jump again. Only this time, she leaped to the side and caught him around the neck with her tail. Using this for balance, she slid behind him and caught him in a nelson hold. When he stopped struggling and realized that this was a pretty debilitating possition he was in, she relaxed her hold and merely kept her arms around him.

                He opened his mouth to protest, then realized that he didn't really mind. If there had been someone else there, then perhaps it would have been neccessary, but with no one else around, what did it matter? He leaned back, quietly, listening to the sound of her breath. She was breathing so slowly... Was she actually asleep? He started to try to turn around, then realized that she had been very carefully stretching until she was able to catch one of his ears in her mouth. Now that he moved, it hurt, but as long as he remained still, he barely even noticed. He tried again, but this time, she bit down on the soft cartilage, and he yelped.

                "Ow! Vel, why'd you do that?"

                "Vee-cauwz Miyh vwan-tched thoo," she mumbled back. It was really more of a playful bite than anything, but it had been a little hard. She relaxed her jaws and nuzzled against him. The entire back side of his body was sandy, but she'd been dirtier before. Then, as quickly as you please, she shoved him off and bounded away, out onto a little rock in the low tide, crouching and laughing as he tried to decide whether to get himself wet again just as he was drying out or not. The rock wasn't big enough for him to jump to, at least not while she was sprawled out and taking up most of it.

                Clank laughed to himself as he watched their game from a high ridge. It wasn't like him to be out so late at night - normally he liked to plug himself into a wall outlet and recharge - but as Ratchet had not come back, and Vel would not answer her door when he knocked, he thought it his duty to check on them. He decided he didn't need to tease Ratchet any more; the boy seemed to have figgured out his own feelings. While the Lombax may have been several years older than him, he was certainly the wiser one. Well, unless you counted wisecracks. Then he was beaten by a mile. But, in terms of overall, genaral knowledge, he was the wiser one. And certainly more level-headed. There was no contending that.

                However, what was mistaken as flirtatious behavior by the robot was really more of a form of play. Sure, it was this touchy, rough-and-tumble kind of play that often lead to the tightest of bonds between any two creatures, but at the moment it was all in fun. She was pulling on ancient memories that felt like a dream and long-dormant instincts to decide on much of her behavior. How had they played as children? Was there any difference, now that they had grown up? He, too, was testing the limits, after he had taken the breakes off. Exactly how friendly was 'too friendly'? What would earn a slap, and what a laugh?

                Splash! Valoosh! and a sudden gasp for air. The two had taken to water wrestling, and, with the first flying tackle catching her off guard, Vel had tumbled back into the drink. But not without her own little surprise. For when she began to fall, she looped her fingers through his chest belt and dragged him over the edge of the rock with her. The gasp had been his, for there was no part in his plan about him getting wet. A little splash, yes, perhaps, but not drowning! And, as soon as they had both caught a half a breath, it was back to loud soaking wet game. Attempts at escape were quickly thwarted by grabbing feet, tails, ears, or whatever other limb or article of clothing happened to be handy.

                "All right, all right," Vel gasped when she had been nearly drowned for the millionth time. "I give... no more..." She went limp in the water and floated, face down, holding her breath. This alone should have given her away, for without filled lungs, a live body will sink, and thus not be live for long. She braced herself against an underwater stone, allowing the current to pull her out against it and fold her legs. Opening her eyes, she fought the stinging, salty water to get a clear picture as he inched forward, neck deep in the water, feet nudging the sandy bottom. 'A little more. That's right. I'm unconcious. I fainted. Got too tired. A little closer, and...'

                With one mighty kick she launched herself at him. He was completely unprepared and buckled when she managed to somehow position herself on his shoulders. She wasn't really heavy - in fact, there was hardly any weight to speak of - but his guard was down and he was unawares. She used him as a springboard, leaping high into the air over the deeper waters and turrning into a beautiful spindive. Well, it would've been a dive if she had gotten a little higher, but as it was she landed more on her ribs than parting the waters perfectly with outstretched arms. "Showoff!"

                She came up laughing and sputtering a foot or so from him. "Never, ever do something like that unless you want to lose all your air!" She practically howled in delight.

                "And yet you still had enough air to turn around and swim back here." His eyes went wide as she poked her nose in his face.

                "You act like I should've just swam out to sea and drowned!"

                "What!? Hey, I never said anything like that! It just seemed weird that..."

                She grinned and cut him off: "Fooled'jya! Man, I actually had you thinking I was mad at you or something!" She dove under and pushed off the bottom and swam to shore. "C'mon! You gettin' out or what? It's gotta be past midnight all ready. One AM, maybe later. If we're going to be able to do anything tommorrow, we'd better get some sleep." He nodded and struggled to get a good start with no secure footing. He hadn't been raised on a water-logged planet where swimming was a common skill and had no idea of how she'd been able to get her excellent beginning. But, finally, he made his way out of the water. They shook themselves and milked water from their tails.

                They returned to their separate rooms without so much as another word. Ratchet slept in his wet pants, as trying to take a shower or wash and dry them would set off Clank's sensors, and the last thing he wanted was to be questioned on what he was doing sneaking in during the wee hours of the morning. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't lie to the robot; he seemed to have developed good lie-detecting skills after the encounter with Qwark. But, he couldn't tell the truth, either; that would bring about more teasing than anyone should have to bear. He just hoped the robot couldn't detect all the salt that would be stuck in his fur the next morning. Or the smell. He'd be smelling like that water for a month at least.

                The next morning, however, Clank seemed just as groggy as he did. Well, groggy for a robot, anyway. Like he needed a battery recharge. There was none of the 'Ratchet, get up, sleeping all day has never done any good' at the crack of dawn, no loud Taunter being blown in his ear. Clank even seemed to have cut out all of the teasing. 'Maybe he was worried and stayed up late. I'll have to stay out more often; the change is good!'

                "Hey, what're you guys doing here so late? I thought I was the only one who slept in!" Vel greeted them over her breakfast. She had decided that, although Sandshark was tasty, she needed fruit. Fish was nice, but she needed plant matter if she didn't want to get sick. The soup they'd served in the barracks, although not the best in flavor, was certainly healthy. It was a mishmash of chicken and vegitables in thin broth. Sometimes they'd get something weird, and then it was a game to see who could guess the cooks' secret ingredient. She won plenty of times, but every now and again, she wished she hadn't. The cooks sometimes had a rather disgusting sense of humor.

                "Well, since my personal alarm clock here wasn't working, I didn't wake up on time. I dunno what's wrong with 'im; he's usually getting me up with the sun."

                "There is nothing 'wrong' with me; I am just in need of a better place to recharge. While this air is good for mammals like yourselves, it is very bad for robots. The salt and moisture are corrosive, and the recharge circuts are poor. This is clearly not a robot-friendly resort."

                "Yeah, yeah, whatever. We'll leave after breakfast. Now, what's to eat?"

                They left later that day after stocking up on food, water and fuel. Enough to last them for months. Well, by Clank's calculations, anyway. He hadn't really taken into account Ratchet's killer appetite after strenuous work or Vel's lack thereof for most of the day. But two extremes balance out in the end, so they should have been mostly correct. Mostly. The fuel was what he really should have been worried about; even the most basic, primitive planets had food, but it took a certain level of civilization to make rocket fuel. And, with Ratchet's love of highly unusual tricks that, although 'cool', ate the fuel like there was no tommorrow, they could run out far sooner than if he just flew straight from one planet to the next.

                Vel spent a lot of her time in the back of the fighter, rather than up front. Although she liked the company, she found it difficult to crouch in one possition for very long and was always shifting around. She looked through the things they had with mild interest. Rumpled sheets that smelled old. Comic books that had been released after she left Veldin. 'I ought'a sit down and read these,' she thought to herself before remembering that they might be a special collection intended for display. Gadgetron fliers and pamplets and coupons. Well, clipped coupons. They had mostly been used up, and only a few remained. The cutting job was rather messy. Other random papers. Food wrappers. Smashed cans. 'Don't these guys ever throw away anything?'

                She pressed an access panel and entered the middle-back, just before the engine service room. Here she found another set of things that intregued her: weapons. They were stored on one side, and there was an ammo cabinet with a big, heavy padlock on top of the invinco-lock on the other. She guessed Clank had thought of storing them separately - Ratchet wasn't the tpye to think up plans - so that even if someone snuck in and stole them, they'd be out of ammo and unable to use them. 'Like being up a creek without a paddle.' The Blaster in particular caught her eye. It wasn't big and heavy like the Devastator or the one with multiple barrels that she didn't recognize, nor did it have any bright colors, but it was familliar.

                She smiled to herself. She'd fended off plenty of 'droids with a Blaster. A single shot in vital circutry and you could render them immobile, unable to shoot, or offline. Miss and you'd be ducking for a while and hoping they didn't have any weapons capable of destroying turrets. Or underground bunkers, when she took to those. She liked to find a good spot and snipe. Her aim was dead-on; she could hit a fly on the wall of the fort thirty feet away. A robot was a walking target compared to that.

                "What're you doing back here?"

                "YAH! Ratche-et! Don't scare me like that!" Her voice was a mixture of whining annoyance and surprise.

                "Clank said I should check on you. But, just between us, I think he wanted to fly this bird really bad and just needed a good excuse. Whadda you think?"

                "I think... I don't know. I'm too spooked to think. You like to scared the pee out'a me! And you'd be the one mopping the floor!"

                "Hey! It'd be your mess!"

                "Your fault!"

                "Yeah, yeah, whatever." He waved his hand dismissively, not caring. "There's no mess here, so what are we arguing for?"

                "Fun? Boredom? Lack of conversation topics?"

                "I asked what you were doing back here. Can we talk about that?"

                "I guess," she said, sitting down in a heap on the floor, her back against the gun case and her tail whacking against it once in a while. "I was just looking around back here. I was bored. It's too crowded up front. I noticed your Blaster there. I used to have one. Got pretty good with it, too. I sniped when we were under attack."

                "Yeah, I got that one a while back. One of my first decient weapons. I mean, a wrench is great and all, but you can't go up against armed guards in the hundreds with no firepower. I don't use it much any more, though. The ammo's cheap, but it takes too long to take out big guys. Now, this," he gestured to the multi-barreled gun, "is firepower. It cost me a hundred and fifty thousand bolts! Do you know how long it took me to get it? For-EVER! It really came in handy against Drek, though."

                "Yeah, but...what is it?"

                "A R.Y.N.O.. The most powerful gun in the galaxy. The ammo's expensive, so I try not to use it too much. It also causes mass destruction, so no one else really likes it, either." He spoke so calmly, as if it were normal to have thrity or so powerful guns and gloves covered in wires and cables and other oddities. Also as if her ignorance about the gun were normal.

                "Remind me not to make you mad," she laughed. "The last thing I want is a fuzzball with a super-gun on my tail!" She lashed her tail in a show of mock anger or fear, hitting the metal and making a vwumpfth sound, the sound of flesh on metal, then curling it around herself. It was long enough that she could wrap it around her waist twice and a bit. Or perhaps it is better to say that her waist was so small, so pinched from lack of food, that her tail reached that much. She really looked pittiful, sitting there, thin as a whisp, balled up like that would protect her. Until you looked at her face. There was determination, there was courage, there was life.

                Ratchet sat down next to her, out of things to talk about but not ready to go back to piloting. She didn't really seem interested in hearing about his weapons. She listened, sure, and made a few comments here and there, but it was obvious she was not truely interested. She was only being nice and letting him talk. He stretched his legs and pulled them up and stretched them again before crossing them and sitting still. She had closed her eyes and looked like she was in a trance, asleep sitting up. The only thing that moved was her tail; its tip twitched as if it had a life of its own and could not bare being still.

                Suddenly, her half-drooping head and ears shot up and she looked straight at him. "Hey, I forgot to ask: where are we going?"

                "Blackwater City, on planet Rilgar. I thought you might want to go hoverboarding. Or we can just watch a few races...I mean, if that's what you'd rather do. I'm gonna be in one of 'em."

                She gave an open-mouthed smile, like a dog but without panting. "I haven't been to a race in years! I'm not really good at it, though; my brother used to help me a lot. I mean, the jumps scare me and I always fall off. Especially if I get going too fast. And I'm probably so out of practice that..."

                Now it was his turn to be surprised. "How can you not like the jumps and going fast?! Man, that's the biggest rush ever!" He stopped when he noticed the look on her face. "Hey, it's no big deal or anything," he said, scratching nervously behind his ears. "Um, uh..." They sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, but it seemed like an eternity. 'Did I just say something really stupid?' She returned to her half-sleeping state, eyes closed, head down. It was her way of conserving energy; when she had nothing to do, she relaxed and used only enough energy to maintain basal metabolism.

                A slight jolt signaled their enterance into Rilgar's atmosphere. "Already? We're there already?" Vel sat straight up in alarm. "Were we really going that fast?"

                "Yeah, it's amazing how fast you can get across the galaxy in this ship."

                "Wow..." She stood up, almost unsteady on her feet. Though the ship's systems minimized the shaking and kept the gravity under their feet, she was unused to space flight. "Hey, do you think you could teach me to hoverboard good?"

                "Well, I suppose I could... I mean, I've never taught anyone before... It's kinda a thing you just, you know, you just do. I don't know how to teach you, but I guess I could. Come on, how hard can it be?" His tail twisted into a nervous half-knot.

                Teaching her to hoverboard turned out to be harder than he had thought. She could barely stand on her rental board. She stood with her feet as wide apart as possible and her arms and tail out for balance. Even her ears seemed to be more widely fanned than normal. She crouched a little, too. As soon as the board moved, she tilted to one side or the other, then overcompensated and fell the other way. "I'm gonna break something," she said, looking up from her new possition on the floor. "I'm determined I'm gonna break something. I don't care if it's my leg, or my arm, or my back, or this dumb BOARD, but I'm gonna break SOMETHING before we leave!"

                "Maybe it'll be Clank. I mean, you did just land on him."

                "I do not mind breaking a friend's fall, but I am not a cushion!"

                "Ow...no kidding. You're as hard as a rock."

                "Metal, actually. I am not mineral in composition."

                "That depends. Do you have zinc in you? Or selenium? Or gold or silver?" Ratchet looked at her in surprise. She had never acted so smart. Sure, she had been fairly smart for an eight-year-old on a backwater planet, but it normally took even him a while to come up with such a come-back, and she had just rattled it off like she'd been working on it for years! "What's up with you, fuzzball? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

                "Wha'? I...No, no, it's just... You're smart!"

                "Well, it's not like you can survive in a fort for a half-dozen years and not learn a few things. I bet you've got some brains under that leather hat of yours, too; a mechanic can't go messing around under the hoods of spaceships without knowing at least a few things. I mean, you could take out the wrong nut and blow yourself up when you start it! Some of the guys back in the barracks were really smart; they just joined to earn money for college. I got them to teach me a few things. Unfortunately, hoverboarding wasn't one of them," she laughed and stood up. She kicked the switch off and picked up the board. "Come on, let's go. Why don't you boys show me how to hoverboard for real, before I really do break something!"

                She and Clank stared down over the railing, scanning the line of racers. They looked pretty tough. Of course, it was hard to tell with aliens, at least for her. Ratchet and Clank both seemed confidant, though, so she wasn't too worried. Clank wasn't down there with him this time; something about his wanting Ratchet to do this 'on his own'. She shook her head; she might get along with guys well, but she didn't understand them one bit. The lessened weight would be an advantage, but from the way they had spoken, she took it that they normally competed together. 'Why is this time suddenly different? Does it have something to do with me?' She had a feeling it did.

                The race began. It was hard for her to see, even with the big screens posted around the spectator area. They were all unfocussed on the fast racers; only the lagging guys in the back who couldn't seem to hit the boosters were slow enough to be caught on film. Ratchet's fur made him identifiable among the other scaley-skinned racers, but she couldn't tell anything other than his position. Apparently, neither could the girls beside her.

                "Man, I come here to see some really cute furry guy race and all I get is a blob! I could watch Qwark with my little brother and get better pictures than this!"

                "I know, like, just totally tell me about it. These screens are, like, so last Tuesday!"

                "Why don't we go to the gift shop instead? They may actually have something we want!" The trio of perfume models left, but their sickeningly-sweet smell remained. Vel gagged. When was the last time she'd smelled something like that? Even the area around the bathrooms couldn't make her puke, but this came awfully close. She supposed it was habitualization; she had to live with the bathroom smell, so she did. Perfumes were non-extistant in a millitary camp, so when she came nose-to-nose with an overdose, it overpowered her.

                She turned around and pulled her shirt up over her nose, stifling the smell a little, and leaned on the railing. Her head was swimming. No one else around her seemed to be feeling a thing, and that made her mad. Why should she be different and have to suffer for it? Why should they get to breathe freely when she did good to get a breath without fainting? The randomness of her thoughts made her think she was seeing things the first time she spotted the pair of big ears flickering through the crowd. Even the second and third times were dismissed as figments of her immagination. But, eventually, she realized that she was seeing a Lombax - and a fairly good size one at that.

                Pushing her way out, she fought to find him. She was sure it was a he; no girl could be big enough to be seen over such a tall crowd. Clank followed her after a moment of hesitation. "Shouldn't we find Ratchet? After all, he did just win. Wouldn't it be rather rude not to congratulate him?"

                "No time," she mumbled, picking him up under one arm. She had failed to notice her friend's name up on the screen. "If there's another Lombax on this planet, there's a good chance it's my brother. And I want to find him before he gets away!" She jumped during her run to get a better view. The big Lombax had ducked into the crowd; he must have seen her and not recognized her. She sprinted past the winner's circle without slowing down.

                Ratchet saw her and called out, "Hey, Vel, did'jya see-" and cut himself off when she took no notice. He jumped back on his board and followed her. It would've been no problem to catch up with her in an open field, but in this dense crowd he had to slow down so he wouldn't tear someone to peices, while she could push and shove her way through at almost top speed. In, out, around, over, all at a dizzying speed. He soon broke free of the crowd, however, when he discovered the row of crates which could be ground along like a rail, and began to close the gap. People "oo"ed and "ah"ed at his skill, but he ignored them. 'No autographs today.'

                He can up along side her and matched his speed to hers. Clank relayed her theory about her brother being in town at the top of his voice; the whine of the hoverboard drowned out a lot, and the city noise blocked even more. "Get on!"

                "WHAT?"

                "I said, 'GET! ON!'"

                "How!?" She slowed down so she could talk better. "I can't ride those things and you know it!"

                "Just get on! We'll figgure it out later!" He stopped and helped her stand behind himself. She could only hold on with one arm; the other had to be used to hold Clank, who could not take his normal position because it would knock her off. To fix this, Ratchet put his tail as far around them as he could reach. No sooner had he done this, however, than he was off at top speed, trying to catch up to the speedy creature. He was dressed in dark clothes and difficult to see in shadowed alleys; only his ears could give him away.

                She looked around, squinting through the wind. 'Where...? Where...? Where is he? I know he's here; he's gotta be...' But they were going so fast, they could miss him easily. There! A flash of gold! She tried to squeak out a "Left!", but the wind tore her words from her throat and all she managed was a high whine. She couldn't point, either; both of her hands were busy and if she moved...

                Suddenly, they turned, almost on the spot, racing into the alleyway where she had seen the yellow fur. It was a dead end, but there was nothing there. A small rat, yes, but no Lombax. "DARN IT!" Ratchet slammed his fist into a wall. "There is no way in this gallaxy that guy's getting away!"

                "Hey, chill out. It probably wasn't him anyway. Besides, who cares?"

                "For Ratchet, this is a matter of pride," Clank said from under her arm. "He has defeated one of the greatest evils of all time, so for him to loose track of someone - even in a large city such as this - is a disgrace. He now has a public immage."

                "Shut up, Clank."

                Vel smirked to herself. Maybe it had been her brother, maybe it hadn't, but either way, it was nice to know Ratchet would do something like this...for her! "Hey, maybe he didn't get away. This is a big city, right? So there's bound to be some sewers or a subway or something under here, right? And these walls...they're pretty close together. Too far to pressure-walk, but anyone with a good jump could clear them. Wall-jumping was a skill for the elite in the barracks."

                "Wall-jumping? For the elite? Cool! I'm cooler than the whole Batallia army! This rocks!"

                "Well, he's easily pleased."

                "Indeed. And that was a very ingenious suggestion, Vel. Certainly our quarry has gone either up or down. The question is, which way?"

                "I don't see any manhole covers, but..."

                "Hey, look!" Ratchet yelled. He pushed aside a crate, revealing a hole. "Betch'ya we'll find him down there." Without waiting for an answer, he jumped down into the abyss.

                "Ratchet, wait! We are unsure of what is down there; we should wait and scan the area first."

                "Aw, lighten up, Robo-boy. Ratchet's right; whoever he is, he's probably down there. I mean, up is just a little too obvious. Come on."

                The trio found themselves wandering through an unused sewer. It was dry, but the smell hung in the air. Ratchet covered his nose before pulling out his O2 Mask. "Man, this place reeks like week-old meat!" The others nodded. At least they weren't wading through sludge.

                "Freeze! Right there! All of you, stop right where you are! And don't move! I have a Devastator and it's locked on." The big Lombax stepped from the shadows of a side tunnel, his big gun trained on them. "State your business down here. I'm the only Lombax in these parts. Do you have some sort of weapons you're selling? If you do, hand them over now."

                "We don't have any weapons for you!" Vel squeaked.

                "Well, then, what are you doing here? Looking for a fight?"

                "If you're looking for one..."

                "Ratchet! He has a gun while you are unarmed," Clank chided.

                "I don't need a gun to take on this guy. C'mon, let's see what he's got! Unless you're too chicken to fight me one on one!"

                "You're goin' down, fuzzball!"

                "Hey! NO one calls ME a FUZZBALL!"

                "There's only one Lombax who gets so uptight about gettin' called a fuzzball. And that's you, huh, Ratchet?"

                "So, Vel was right. You are here...Reilly." He spat the name as if he were holding a grudge and crouched, ready to fight.

                "Vel? You...you've grown up, little sis." He smiled and dropped his gun. After just a few days of good food she had begun to put meat on her ribs, so they didn't stick out like handlebars anymore. "Life hasn't treated you half bad, I see. I guess you didn't need me protecting you after all."

                "Hey Reilly. Long time no see," she smiled, that smile that all little ones give to older siblings. "What's been going on?"

                "That's...not important," he said, looking down.

                "Oh, really? And just why is that?" Ratchet asked, suspicious.

                "It's none of your business, fuzzball."

                "Maybe not, but it is mine. I'm your sister, Reilly; I think I have a right to know."

                "Vel...little sis...I can't tell you. Rules."

                She walked up to him and poked her nose in his face. "Reilly, what in the name of all that's furry could possibly be so important and top-secret that you can't even tell me? Come on." She backed up, tail twitching in annoyance. Her already-small amount of patience was just about gone.

                "Hey, if it'll make you happy, I'll plug my ears and sing the la-la song. Look," Ratchet plugged his ears and began to sing very off-key, "la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la- "

                "SHUT UP! You know I hated that song, both of you. If it'll make you stop, I'll tell you." The big Lombax sat on the ground, putting his tail protectively over his Devastator. The three of them followed suit and sat down, Ratchet at an oddly great distance. He fingered the OmniWrench on his belt, wondering if he could honestly take out someone with such firepower with a mellee weapon. He and Reilly had been rivals as children - mostly at the sport of hoverboarding - but now there was an almost-open hostility.

                "You know how we had to up and move?" he began, straightening his broad shoulders; he dwarfed them both a good deal. "Well, when I was fourteen, dad started having money troubles. He couldn't support us anymore. So, after he dropped Vel off at Batalia, he left me here with an old friend of his. We're talking old. As in, can't-go-to-the-bathroom-by-himself old. He got stuck in some old folks' home and died not too long after that. I didn't really care, but I got stuck out on the streets.

                "When Cresh found me, I was a pretty sick kid. I'd been caught out in all kinds of weather and got pnemonia. Him and his buddies nursed me back to health. Not too long after that, they got me started working. We go out and shoot down Blarg transports that fly over and raid 'em for supplies and guns and ammo, then we sell it if we don't need it. We use the money to buy supplies. You know, food, medicine, the basics. Drugs don't sell that good and if you're too out of it you can't shoot straight."

                "Who is this Cresh?" Clank asked.

                "Thet weuld be me, little 'bot." A young man, perhaps in his mid to late twenties, stepped out of another side tunnel. "I em Cresh. My boys ere ell over these tennels. We do not fear invession, bet it is best to be prepered." His accent was thick and made him hard to understand. He was even taller than Reilly, but more lanky. All arms and legs. He was very reptillian in his appearances, with dark, scaley blue-green skin and three blades on his head. They were dull from obvious use, but still sharp enough to cause major damage. Probably a native of Rilgar.

                "I ren things down here. We teke in sick end injered kids end teke cere of them till they're better. Then, we let them join or leave es they please. Reilly is one of our most velueble members; he is en excellent shot. End so fest! He wins meny heverboard reces when we go, end the money is very helpfel. Buys es lots of good sepplies. Twenty yeung'ens ere e lot to teke cere of. Whet did you come for? Protection? Food? Ere you lost in the tennels?"

                "Naw, we're not lost. Vel just spotted Reilly and wanted to see him. She's his little sister."

                "Oh? Reilly, why did you not tell me you hed sech e pretty sister?" Vel blushed, lightly, but it was unnoticable to anyone but another Lombax; her fur hid too much. Most would have recognized her expression as one of embarrassment, however. She curled her tail around herself and drew her legs up protectively; she did not trust such elloquent complements, no matter how flattering.

                "Actually, I wanted to ask Reilly if he wanted to come back to Veldin with us. I was gonna ask Ratchet to take me back, but - "

                "NO! Vel, don't you get it? Dad was framed for treason. We're his kids. They'll suspect us of every little thing! Even just for buying food or visiting the hardware store! We can't go back! That was one thing dad told me before he left: never return to Veldin. Or else, we might not get out alive. It's safer here."

                "Reilly, I'm going back, whether you are or not. Come on you guys, it's obvious we're not going to get anywhere down here."

                "Thenk you for visiting es, end please come beck eny time," Cresh told them with a smile.

                And so, time went by. The trio hopped from planet to planet in hopes of locating Mei, Vel's sister, and to give Clank some time to think of a way for Vel to get in safely. It would do no good to smuggle her in; that would get her shot on sight for sure. They couldn't refer to her as someone else; DNA and retina tests would reveal her. There was no real way, unless... Yes, that would work! By the time Clank came up with this plan, however, a month had passed and they found themselves on Pokitaru once again. He told Ratchet and asked him to talk it over with Vel.

                He found her sitting out on a dock, pants rolled up past her knees and feet in the water. Fish nibbled at her fur when she kept very still and quiet; it was almost rude to interrupt her. She had such a peaceful look. Of course, Ratchet wasn't one for peace. He liked things loud and crazy. "Hey, Vel! Clank thought of how we can get you back on Veldin without too much fuss!"

                She turned and the fish darted away from her toes. "What?" she laughed, "say we got married?" She doubled over in laughter, barely staying on the edge of the planks.

                "No, silly." He gave her a push and she fell into the water. He squatted on the edge of the peir. "We'll just talk to the High Council. I saved the planet, so I should be able to talk them in to letting you back on. Geez, you'd think a guy like Clank could come up with something better than that after a month!" He backed up again, just in case she decided to splash him. But, she didn't. Instead, she hoisted herself out and became very excited.

                "Really? That's it? We just talk and they let me back on?" She smiled in bliss, completely unaware of everything, even Ratchet. "I'm going home," she whispered, as if saying it would wake her from her dream. "I'm going home!" She twirled around, dancing in glee. "Come on, let's go! I want to hurry up and get back!"

                They left before she could even shower and remove the dirty water from her coat, she was so excited. Once the jet was out of the atmosphere, however, she began to towel herself off, removing any moisture that had not evaporated. She found an old radio; it was probably older than she was and looked like several parts had been grafted on throughout the years. But, after a moment of violent shaking, the thing warmed itself up and began to hum and crackle. She adjusted the dial until she found a station. "This is Deep Space Transmisions, playing all those kooky songs you can pick up in outer space on radio waves from faraway planets. Of course, you can't understand half of them, but, hey, if it has a cool beat, then who cares?!" the DJ cackled.

                She laughed; this was one of her favorite stations. They usually had hyper, happy, pick-me-up-and-dance songs on, and were a source of comfort in the barracks. She might have been sleeping in the women's restroom on a cot, but the lack of decient furniture just meant that the sound echoed all the more. She could sing and howl to her heart's content in there - until the soldiers came and threatened to bust the door down if she didn't stop, of course. Then she had to be quiet. She couldn't really sing all that well; she just liked to make noise. When a random song with no understandable words and a fast, upbeat tempo came on, she started dancing in the middle of the ship. It didn't matter that she could be walked in on at any time, because she knew she could dance and she didn't care if anyone saw her; she wouldn't have cared if she'd had two left feet.

                All the clicking of her claws on the metal and the noisy radio did not go unnoticed in the cockpit, however. Clank had a migrane brewing after just the first couple of measures; he prefered Classical peices. Ratchet didn't mind, though; in fact, he enjoyed the music and wished he had a radio up front. With all the buttons and levers and switches and readout screens, you'd think they would've had enough sense to put in a radio at least!

                Veldin was pretty far from Pokitaru, so he decided to let Clank fly the ship again. After all, there wasn't much to do, just keep out of gravity wells and away from asteriods. He was a bit surprised, however, that Vel was actually dancing. He'd never known her to enjoy it before, but she seemed to be having the time of her life. He was even more surprised when she invited him to join her!

                "What?! But I can't...aw, who cares." He was clumsy, but she didn't mind. It was fun to dance like that, and even more fun to mock him when he tripped and staggered to one side by rebounding off the walls as many times as she could. In fact, she was acting a little bit drunk. She wasn't, of course, unless you counted happiness as intoxicating. It had the same effects: impared judgement, hyperactivity, insanity, silliness, and all those other goofy things without the hangover the next morning, so why shouldn't it be?

                Clank thought it would be funny to switch on the video monitoring system and watch them, so he did. It wasn't exactly the 'romance' he had envisioned, even though they were talking about Ratchet, the guy who couldn't come up with a decient present for a girl to save his life. Pick up lines, yes, he had pick up lines running out his big old ears, but nothing really romantic. 'At least I know that every young lady loves flowers and oil. Ah, what a fine snack...' The noise was bothering him, however, and it wasn't really all that much fun to watch them bouncing around and laughing like buffoons. He switched the monitor off.

                But, oh, if only he had left it on a moment longer! For at the very moment that he hit the 'power' button, the song ended and a much slower, softer one came on. Vel crossed her arms and grumbled, "Why do they have to make these songs? I mean, sure, they're nice for falling asleep and all, but that's about it. They're way too slow to dance to!"

                "Not really."

                "Whadda ya mean, 'not really'? I'd love to see you dance to this." She laughed, picturing Ratchet tripping in slow motion.

                "Come'ere, I'll show you."

                "No way, fuzzball. I don't want my tail getting stepped on."

                "I'm not going to step on your tail. I just..." He paused, blushing under his fur. She could see it in the way his ears came foreward and drooped at the tips. "I just need a partner."

                She stood in front of him and spread her arms helplessly. "Okay, now what?" she asked curiously, cocking her head.

                "Um, well..." He curled his tail up nervously. "See, you stand here and, uh..."

                "C'mon, Ratchet, spill it. I stand there and what?" She had never seen people dance to anything that was even halfway slow. Most of what she called dancing was really a modified marching drill, and those required a good tempo. Her knowledge of teenage social life was severely impared.

                "Well...here, look." He put her arms around his neck and wrapped his own around her waist. "This is how you dance to a slow song."

                She looked down to the side, embarrassed by her friend's rather impulsive behavior. It didn't upset so much as surprise her. She then realized that not only was her tail in a knot, but so was her stomach. She didn't understand why, though; she hadn't eaten anything unusal lately. The gentle rocking motion calmed her, however; it even made her a bit sleepy. She turned her head back and looked at him, but they were so close that her nose ended up under his jaw. "You know what? I kinda like this." Vel leaned foreward and rubbed her face against his neck before resting her head in the crook of his shoulder.

                Ratchet half-pulled back in alarm. She was acting so unusual for herself. Sure, she was friendly, but this? This was downright weird for her! 'Aw, who cares?' he thought to himself. She looked like she was asleep; her arms had tightened into a curled-baby position and there was a slight smile on her face. The only thing that moved was her tail. The thing swung gently from one side to the other with the music, flicking its tip against the tops of his feet every once in a while. He laughed in his mind. Her tail was so twitchy, like it was alive. He wondered if she was really controling it, or if it was just second nature.

                The song was almost over; he had heard it before and knew it. But he didn't want it to; he was enjoying himself too much. 'C'mon, Ratchet, think. Think, stupid!' And think he did. But, would she let him? He had been a little foreward before and she didn't mind, so why not? 'Because Vel's not patient and she might get mad.' And Vel mad was just about the scariest thing alive. Well, next to Qwark's commercials. But that was on a whole different plane of horror.

                Deciding that second- and third-guessing yourself was just about the dumbest thing ever invented, he shifted one hand from her back to behind her ears and laid his head against hers, stroking her hair. It was thick and silky between his gloved fingers; he wished he wasn't wearing his gloves. She moved slightly, but not in any sort of defensive or offended way. In fact, she only seemed to be repositioning herself as one might during sleep so as to be more comfortable. Her tail's twitching stopped; she must have been completely asleep. Just like that, in a few minutes, she had fallen asleep in his arms.

                The song ended and he picked her up, quietly craddling her against himself. She had put on quite a few pounds in the month or so they'd been together; she was not fat - not by no means - but she had a healthy weight, the kind that came naturally with the right food. She was too heavy to hold like that for any length of time. Instead, he sat down on the edge of his bed and allowed her to lean on him and stroked her hair. She had her own scent to her, one that was almost masked by the salty smell of seawater, but that could still be faintly caught. He would have burred his nose in her hair if it hadn't been for the overpowering sea smell - the smell of rotten fish, seaweed, and something he couldn't quite place. Something like the smell in the laboratories on Orxon where he'd found the Nanotech drinks.

                He was sleepy; he couldn't blame her for falling asleep. Acording to his watch-slash-Gadgetron-Helpdesk-wristlink, which he kept set to Veldinian time despite planet-hopping, it was ten-thirty in the evening. Sleeping in his space jet wasn't unusual for him; he just parked it in orbit somewhere and curled up here in the back. It was comfortable and relatively safe - unless the stablizers failed or his trajectory was off and he went plummetting towards the planet's surface, but Clank normally stayed alert. The little robot didn't need to recharge as often as Ratchet; once a week or so was enough, though he'd rest more if given the chance. He curled up next to her and yawned, showing his sharp teeth, before settling down for a few hour's sleep. He curled his tail around her as an afterthought, perhaps even a dream.

                Vel woke up to find herself stiff and yet, at the same time, loose. She wasn't curled into a tight ball like she normally did - she often got cold at night - but she found it hard to move her arms and legs. Well, her arms were pinned down somehow, so that explained their immobility, but her knees just seemed to be stuck at one angle. She couldn't see much of anything, only a wall of fuzzy yellow-gold that moved every once in a while. She could smell something, too, something warm and musty, but familliar, like an old blanket. 'What...? Where...? Hnn?' She was in that confused state many are in when they are awakened from a deep slumber.

                Suddenly, the peices clicked in to place. She wasn't cold because there was something warm next to her. Her knees were stiff because she had been sleeping in a weird possition, and her arms were pinned because Ratchet had his own arms around her. 'Ratchet? Wha...?' Her brain started at this realization. 'Oh, yeah, that's right...I was dancing with him. Slow-dancing,' she smiled. That 'wall' was really his throat, and it moved when he swallowed. Then that smell...was...him? That was the only logical explaination she came up with. 'Wie-ierd!'

                She twisted her head around as best she could to see and wriggled from his embrace. He was out cold - litterally; he shivered when she moved away. She grabbed the blanket from the foot of the bed and covered him with it. He looked rather angelic, actually, when he was asleep like that, with his arms and legs curled up. She smiled, quietly tip-toeing to the cockpit door.

                Clank looked back at her. "Well, now, this is certainly interesting. Ratchet tells me I am to fly this craft 'for a little while', and then does not come back for five hours! I am still unfamilliar with Lombaxian terminology, but I do not beleive five hours counts as a little while."

                "Lay off, Clank. He fell asleep back there. We haven't had a good sleep in a week!" It was true. The Blarg had been chasing them from one planet to the next, trying to catch Ratchet for 'eleminating' their leader, and most every planet still had robotic shock troops. She had waited in the jet most of the time, only leaving when everything was completely safe, and then never without Ratchet's loaded Blaster. It was hard to sleep when you were being chased and any step might be your last; the chance to relax after taking out a factory was a welcome one.

                Vel plopped down in Ratchet's seat and put her feet up on the steering sticks. She smiled and flicked the control switch with her tail, shifting the control back to her side. She turned the rocket in circles and rolls and other crazy tricks. Of course, since the only gravity they had was always generated underneath them, it really felt more like being spun in place rather than getting turned cocky. Innertia still had its effects, but the inner ear does not read innertia to determine which way is up. "V-vel, plea-ease st-st-st-sto-o-op it!"

                "Aw, what for? You guys always gotta spoil my fun?"

                "It is very upsetting to my equilibrium to be flung in all directions. Also, if you are not careful, you will wake Ratchet, assuming he is still asleep."

                "He is, and I don't think he's gonna get up any time soon. He'd sleep through a nuke being dropped on him." She flipped the controls back to Clank's side. "I'm bored. How long 'till we reach Veldin?"

                "Another hour, at most. I suggest you wake Ratchet; I am not equipped to handle a landing."

                "You get 'im up. I ain't gonna be the one with a wrench to the brain. Besides, I'm still sleepy." She crossed her arms and let her head droop. She would not fall back asleep, she knew, but she could relax enough to feel more rested when she got up.

                Landing on Veldin was no problem. There weren't even any guards at the landing site. Ratchet and Clank looked like they owned the whole planet by themselves; Vel was more cautious. She sniffed lightly, then drew a deep breath, inhaling through her mouth and tasting the air as much as she smelled it. It was dry, as she had remembered it. Dry and dusty, with a thin floral scent from tiny desert flowers. Her stomach suddenly knotted tightly and she doubled over.

                "Vel? Hey, what's wrong?"

                "It's nothing. Probably just female garbage. Or maybe I'm nervous. I keep thinking there's a sniper up behind this ridge or that rock. But that's silly, right? I mean, it's not like I'm wanted for anything. It's nothing, really."

                "If you say so," Ratchet eyed her. She stood up and grinned at him to prove her point, jumping down and digging her toes into the sand, scratching the dust with her claws. She was obviously glad to be home.

                "We had better hurry. If we don't, then the Veldinian High Council of the Elders of Veldin will be angry and less likely to accept Vel."

                Ratchet laughed. "They'll listen. I saved their scrawny butts, right? Besides, how smart can a bunch of old crazy men calling themselves 'the Veldinian High Council of the Elders of Veldin' be, anyway? Their own name is redundant!"

                "Redundant or not, they are your elders, and you should respect them."

                "You don't respect me, and I'm older than you are."

                "That is a matter of opinion, Ratchet. You are sometimes very immature and in need of guidance. With no one else around, I had to take it upon myself to advise you. I was hoping that with another member on the team, that duty would be somewhat lifted - you are very stubborn and hotheaded - but that does not seem to be the case."

                "Hey, lighten up; I don't get into anything I can't get myself out of. Besides, what made you think Vel would tell me to act like a dork? She's cool."

                "You talk about me like I'm not even here."

                "Naw... C'mon, Vel, you know me better than that, right?" He put an arm around her shoulders in a friendly way and shook her gently. She laughed and elbowed him lightly.

                "If you would like, I could scout ahead and leave the two of you alone."

                "WHAT?!?!"

                "It appears that you are in need of some extra 'quality time' together, so I am happy to oblige." Clank grinned and ran off, using his Thruster Pack to get ahead of Ratchet, who was chasing and yelling at him.

                "You silly boys, get back here! Hey! Don't run off and leave me!" The three of them seemed to be playing a game of tag with no clear 'it'. Or perhaps there were two 'it's: one intent on strangling Clank, and one who only wanted them to slow down. Either way, their game of chase brought them to the Council Quarters in time.

                "Halt! Who are you? What business do you have here?" a big uniformed guard barked. He was big - bigger than Reilly, even - and he carried a modified Blaster; it seemed to be equiped with an extra barrel. Not that he'd need it. His size alone should have intimidated all but the most determined intruders. He was slightly old, though; his ears and muzzle were beginning to show grey.

                "What, you mean you guys don't recognize me? I saved the planet!"

                "Oh, Ratchet! Sorry 'bout that, little guy," the guard laughed. He sounded a lot like a hyena. "Come on in; the Elders have been waiting." He escorted them inside.

                The building itself was not very impressive from the outside - it was only a dome on top of a circular platform - but inside was a little more interesting. It had four identical sides, like a cross. There were four staircases which lead up to the cannon concealed within the dome and an elevator in the middle of it all that lead down. At the bottom, they were faced with four separate directions. The guard lead them down one. "What's down the others?" Vel asked curiously.

                "The exact same thing as what's this way. We designed the whole building so simply that it mixes everyone up! Each hallway looks exactly like all the others. Instead of making the place a maze where our own soldiers could get lost, we made it straight and simply so that once an enemy was inside, we could trap them between two sets of guards in a narrow hallway. There's even a mounted cannon in this next room." He spoke as he walked. He had long, powerful strides and a dignified air like that of a war veteran. Vel noted that the end of his tail was missing its tuft; he must have lost it in a fight.

                They seemed to be going down for miles. They'd walk down a hallway lined with guards who looked at them and waved before returning to their card games, then go down an elevator shaft to the next corridor. It seemed that they were decending into the very heart of the planet, though it got cooler as they went down. The guard stopped outside a set of doors and left them with another guard, disappearing into the elevator. The new guard was much younger, probably not much older than the two Lombax. He cocked his head at them.

                "Them high-ranks, they think they can get away with whatever jus' 'cause they've got a few stars. I'll show them one'a these days; I'll come up there an' thrash 'em good, that's what I'll do! Hey, what're you doing here, anyway?"

                "We are here on official business," Clank said. "Ratchet needs to speak to the Elders -"

                "Woah, Ratchet? THE Ratchet? The Ratchet who beat Drek? YOU'RE HIM!?!?" Ratchet nodded and grinned. "I thought you'd be...I dunno...bigger. They told us about you back in the academy. Never showed us a picture; jus' said you were our age an' told us you were a model of patriotism, even though you weren't inlisted. Made you out to be some big war-hero. But you ain't. You jus' a regular guy."

                "Yes, well, sir, we need to speak to the elders. Will you please allow us to enter?"

                "Yeah, yeah, yeah, don't strip a gear. Oh, wait, here, you gotta put these on." He pulled some long white robes from a panel in the wall. "Some dang crazy protocol we got. Guess it's to keep people from sneaking in weapons or somethin'."

                Vel took one and put her hand under it. "It's practically see-through!" she screamed. "I might as well walk in there in my underwear!"

                "Yeah, real embarrassin', ain't it? I remember havin' ta wear that thing when I enrolled as a guard. They put us privates down here 'cause they figgure if the enemy gets this far, we're all doomed anyway. But you're a skinny girl; you shouldn't mind. Think of it as wearing a cover-up over your swimsuit."

                She glared at him. "When I wear a cover-up, it COVERS UP!" She stormed into one of the small side rooms and changed. She was thankful she had on white sports underwear and not something skimpy or dark. If she couldn't have decient outter garments, then at least she wouldn't be too embarrassed. She had her fur, too, though that wasn't saying much. A Lombax showing too much fur was just like anyone else showing too much skin. She sighed to herself, gathered her clothes and her courage, took a deep breath, and stepped out.

                Everyone tried not to stare at each other. Clank was lucky in that he didn't have to wear the rediculous things. Ratchet wasn't all that embarrassed at himself; his normal attire wasn't too different. His calves felt a bit drafty, but that was it. He reminded himself to keep his eyes on his own toes and off of Vel; she was obviously embarrassed. That, and he'd probably end up starring at her. She didn't look too bad. The guard elbowed him. "Your girlfriend's cute."

                He growled. "She's not my girldfriend." He was feeling a little jealous, though; his fur was standing slightly on end.

                "Whatever."

                They walked in and hung their regurlar clothes on a rack by the door. The High Elder rose from his chair and greeted them. "Hello, young ones. Greetings, robot." He nodded to each of them and guestured to some small squares of velvet. "Please, sit down. I appologise for what you must wear; it was not our decision. It keeps us from getting many visitors."

                They sat down on the plush velvet. The Elders were all aranged in a circle in a platform covered in silk. At one side was the Grand Elder in a tall chair made of fine wood and the thickest velvet. He wore a white robe - much thicker than theirs - with a golden cord at the waist. On either side of him were the High Elders on low stools with comfortable backs in white robes with silver-grey cords. The other twelve, the plain Elders, were seated on velvety cushons and had white cords. All of them looked at the two young Lombax who had come in. Vel squirmed in embarrassment and tucked her legs up, wrapping her tail around her ankles. Ratchet stretched out comfortably and Clank stood.

                "Now, what was it that you young ones wanted?" The High Elder leaned forward in his chair with interest. He was very old - some of the grey in his fur had started to turn white - but he was still limber. He could bend and lean and stand and sit and probably even jump and dance without pain. He was the sort that put you at ease because he reminded you of your grandfather in some odd, indescribable way.

                The three of them spent hours talking to the Elders. They seemed willing to listen; it only took so much time because Ratchet got off on tangents - bragging about what he'd done - and couldn't stick to business. In the end, they decided to allow Vel back on the planet as she had only been a young girl when her father was exhiled and could not have had anything to do with it. She didn't really care at the moment, though; she was too embarrassed by what she was having to wear. Even her old rag-tag army uniform would've been more comfortable. She just wanted to get out and back into her own clothes.

                When they returned to Ratchet's small home on Kyzil Plateau several miles away, it was dark. Really dark, the kind of dark that only comes on crystal-clear nights when the stars seem their brightest but give the least light. They were lucky that Ratchet's parents had agreed to pay his electric bills while he was away (as long as he paid them back, of course); they needed the light badly. Vel curled up in a recliner and promptly fell asleep, even without a blanket; she could sleep anywhere remotely safe-feeling.

                "Wow, she's out cold. I didn't know it was possible to drop off that fast!" Being plagued by insomnia all his life, Ratchet had no concept of 'early birds'. He slept like a rock, but it wasn't the calming, stress-free sleep she enjoyed; he fought for every wink. He tossed a light blanket from a closet over her. "I'm gonna turn in. It's been..." he yawned, "...too long since I last got a really good, long sleep in." He went to his own room and layed down, trying to sleep.

                But he couldn't. His mind was racing ninety-a-minute. He flopped from one side to the other, trying to decide which position was most comfortable. But, no, when he was comfortable, his mind worked harder since it wasn't bothered by discomfort. He tried other positions, looking for one that wasn't comfortable, but that he could still stand. He even tried folding his tail up and laying on it - one of the most uncomfortable positions he knew of - but that didn't stop his mind from going around in circles.

                He would do a flashback to when Vel had left. She'd come over and woken him up early, then they'd run around the Kyzil Plateau, chasing the big frog-like creatures and each other. He remembered how sad she'd been telling him she was going away for a while, how her eyes watered and her tail twitched in mistery. It was hard not to start crying himself. It'd taken every ounce of self-control he'd had and some he didn't even know existed to hold still and not start sobing as she'd burried her face in his shoulder.

                Then there was a rushing blur of the years that had passed - trying to build a rocket, meeting Clank, defeating Drek - then his mind slowed back to a discernable pace. It seemed to be stuck on Vel, or anything that had to do with her. He replayed the things they'd done together in the past month, the places they'd gone. He noticed, after the fifth or so round of memories, that he seemed oddly... 'NO!' he scolded himself. 'You are not going to go down that road!' The guard's words that day kept ringing in his ears:

                "Your girlfriend's cute."

                He rolled over again and pulled his pillow over his face. Maybe, just maybe, if he was quiet enough, if he didn't move too much, he'd fall asleep. Maybe...

                Vel's eyes flashed open. She wasn't sleepy at all; a few hours' rest was all she had needed. In fact, she needed food more than sleep. 'Stupid me. Gotta remember to eat before going to bed.' She stood up and stretched. That was when she noticed the blanket: when it fell onto the floor around her feet. She picked it up and sniffed of it, lightly. She caught nothing but her own scent; it was too thick and covered the faint leathery smell on a few spots. Shrugging and supposing Clank had felt sorry for her (she might have even shivered, even though it must've been seventy-five or eighty), she tossed it back on her chair.

                "Man, I really gotta remember to eat," she whispered. Her stomach growled loudly. It honestly sounded like it was complaining. She shushed it, knowing that food was the only way to quiet it down. "Wonder what Ratchet keeps in the 'fridge?"

                His refridgerator was your normal stock: milk, cheese, leftovers, eggs, butter, and something green with spots that showed it may once have been a steak. Or ham. It could've been ham. Some kind of meat. She pitched the green mysterymeat into the trash; no one could ever hope to eat it. She pulled the carton of milk out and sipped it. Fresh. Good. Clean. She licked her lips and sat down at the table. There wasn't any cereal in the pantry, but that was alright. She could stand to just drink the milk.

                Finished with her midnight snack - or perhaps it is better to say her early morning snack, for it was now two A.M. - she paced restlessly. She was full, but not sleepy. What could she do? She didn't like walking around; she had to hold her claws up off the floor so they wouldn't click with each step. Her furry feet were soft enough, though. They made no sound. 'What can I do now? Oh, I'm so bored.'

                She stopped in her tracks and set her claws down; holding them that way made her toes cramp. She looked around. There was the stove - obviously unused. Anyone could tell by the way it was so clean; a guy like Ratchet probably couldn't boil water without making a mess. The 'fridge was in good shape. It was metallic-grey and a little scratched around the handle, but it was a good size and sturdy. The table was an ordinary wooden table with plain chairs. Her milk carton was still out; it would smell sour in the morning if she didn't throw it away. It was a small, modest kitchen, but plenty for one guy and his robot.

                That was what she could do! She could slip out for an hour or two and walk around, then come back, curl up, and no one would be the wiser. Yes, there was a plan. She chucked her carton in the trash and lifted her claws again. 'Why doesn't Ratchet have carpet?' She padded to the door, then noticed that Clank was plugged into his recharge unit; it had probably been special-ordered from Gadgetron. Unsure of how much he tuned in to in a state that mirrored light sleep, she decided to use the back passage to the door instead. It was closer to Ratchet's room, but he slept like a rock. You could drop a bomb and he wouldn't wake up.

                Of course, to sleep like a rock, you had to first get to sleep. The Lombax-in-question was still awake. "Curse insomnia," he growled as he rolled over for what must've been the millionth time that night. He only had time to see the end of her tail disappear past his doorframe, twitchy as ever. 'What's she doing up?' He listened as the door creaked open and could almost immagine her wince and grimmace at its noise. He laughed at himself and his silly mental pictures. As the door whined its way closed again, he slid out of bed and followed her, forgetting his gloves, hat, and chestbelt; they could stay on his nightstand.

                Vel had no problem with the night. It was warm, warmer than the house, but not unbarable. A gentle breeze fluttered her ears and tail, which, for once, was relaxed and did not move on its own. The sand was warm and familliar; it did not clump between her toes like Batallian mud. Everything was a washed-out red or brown color in the pale light, including her fur. She could see just fine, for Lombaxian eyes are just as well adapted to darkness as light. Plus, as little kids, she and Ratchet had often snuck out at night with their fathers' CoiLites around their necks and searched for star bugs. By flickering the lights, the bugs had responded with their own flashes and so were easily captured in a jar. Their tacticks earned them bugs in and out of season, as well as the respect of many of the older kids. They may not have been allowed in their games of tailball - though they were both just as good as anyone else - but at least they weren't picked on; the bugs could be sold a bolt apeice, mostly to frighten older sisters.

                Ratchet followed her with amazing stealth. Well, amazing for him. He was better known for rushing in without thinking with guns blazing and relying on the fact that he had enough ammo than for being sneaky. He had trouble when she stopped and looked around, because he had to duck behind a rock quickly and he couldn't really tell when she moved on. He had to rely on his ears alone, and when the wind decides to whistle that annoying tune, the only tune it knows, it gets a little hard.

                She disappeared over the side of a cliff and started to descend into the mist that covered Kyzil Valley. It surrounded the plateau before rising back to the normal hight. Ratchet supposed that the plateau was the only place high enough to avoid morning mists but still low enough to evade mountain fog. He also supposed that the cliffs were nearly impossible to scale without special equipment and that she must have known a way down. 'Maybe this is how she always won hide-and-seek,' he thought to himself. No matter how hard he or any of the other kids looked - when they could convince the older kids to play with them, of course - she had never been found.

                He clammored over the side. It was a lot harder that it looked, so he couldn't really worry about stealth. "Why are you following me?" she asked, without even turning around.

                "Um...because you snuck out at two in the morning?"

                "Uh. Huh." She turned around and put her hands on her hips. "And what were you doing up at two in the morning, hm?"

                Ratchet froze. What should he do? Tell her he'd been thinking of her? That'd sound just plain wrong. Especially if he added that he kept thinking of how jealous he'd been of the guard. Of course, just saying he couldn't sleep wouldn't hurt. "I had insomnia. You?"

                "Hungry. Woke up, ate, couldn't go back to sleep. The usual." She sat down. "I thought I'd take a walk. But, since you're out here, I guess we could sit down and talk, if you wanted to."

                "Talk? About what?"

                "I dunno."

                "How can we talk without something to talk about?"

                "Well, we can always talk about what to talk about."

                "Vel? That's dumb."

                "Yup." She put her tail up over the top of her head and caught the tip in her mouth. She tilted her head back to look at him; Ratchet snickered at her silliness. But, as she did this, she overballanced and fell back. "Oompf! Ow, man, that really hurt," she said, rubbing the base of her tail; falling over had bent it up too far.

                "You goofball. You do know that you have to keep your balance when you lean back, right?"

                "I do now." She motioned and he sat down beside her. Vel glanced at the sky. "Hey, look at that."

                "What?"

                "That, right there. Those stars."

                "Um, which ones? The bright one there? Or that group of little ones over there? There's a million stars up there, Vel. Which one?"

                "Those ones there. See?" She put her head next to his so that their views were the same and pointed. "Those stars. Don't they look like a crouching Lombax?"

                "Um...no, not really," Ratchet stammered. Her proximity was making him blush.

                "Aw, c'mon, look again. See? There's the tip of one ear, and the nose, and that's either the other ear or the shoulder, and that's -"

                "Oh, I get it! I see it now! That's the one my dad pointed out to me every night when I was a kid. It's supposed to be a crouching hunter or something of the type, but I never saw it 'till now! Cool!" She leaned back and laughed. Almost instantly, he was kicking himself, for although it was a little awkward for the two of them to sit so close together, he found that he liked it.

                "You spend your entire life trying to see something, and when you immagination should be most active, it doesn't work, but you grow up and you get it right away!" Vel fell over laughing. "Man, that is too funny!" She looked up at him, but Ratchet sighed and looked away. He leaned back against a rock and closed his eyes. "What's wrong?"

                "Nothing."

                "Oh, come on. Something's eatin' you, and I wanna know what!" She sat up and leaned foreward, so close that he felt her breath. "Ach!" she gasped, doubling over.

                "Vel!?" Ratchet asked worriedly. "Vel, you okay?"

                "Yeah," she winced, "I'm fine. Just a gut cramp. Probably...that milk I had from your 'fridge. It was probably past the expiration date."

                "You sure you're alright? You don't need to go back to bed? You can have mine, if you want; I'll sleep on the couch."

                "Naw, I'm okay. It passed. I'll be fine in a bit." She didn't move her hand, though; her gut was still cramping, but she wasn't about to tell him. "Okay, you know what's wrong with me. What's wrong with you?"

                "It's...nothing. Really. I guess I'm just tired." He looked at her. "You're tired, too. Your eyes are half-closed already." She smiled in a sleepy, bleary-eyed way and nodded. Ratchet pulled her against him and let her rest on his shoulder. She stiffened in alarm, but then relaxed. He ran his fingers down the edge of one of her ears, tracing the cartilage support with his claws. As she relaxed, she noticed the way he was sitting, too. He had one arm behind her shoulders, stroking her ear with that hand, and the other lightly rested on her upper arm. He seemed to be protecting her, but there was nothing dangerous.

                She suddenly became aware of her own tail: it was halfway curled behind Ratchet, about to wrap itself around him! 'What am I DOING!?!?' she scolded himself and whipped the offending appendage around her own waist. 'That is NOT right!' Her tail was more under subconcious than concious control; it reacted to her moods and feelings more than thoughts and descisions. Of course, that wasn't to say that she couldn't assert her full control over it when she wanted to. If she had allowed her tail to actually wrap around him, then what...? Normally, such a gesture was reserved only for a fianceé or mate, until children were born, in which case the tail was used to keep track of a wondering cub. If she had used such a...such a...such a friendly, no, romantic gesture, when they weren't even DATING...

                Vel mentally sighed. 'Why bother worring about what his reaction would've been when I caught myself in time? But...but I wonder... Is that what's been bothering him? Am I acting too...overbearing? He knows me better than that, doesn't he? He knows we're just friends. But, maybe...maybe that's why he's acting so crazy. Does he think more of me than what I thought?'

                Ratchet himself was thinking similar thoughts, though his were more along the lines of, 'What am I doing?! I'm being insanely friendly and sappy, and Vel's only a good friend. Right...? Just a friend. A good, long-standing, childhood friend. Nevermind that she's now either almost or totally asleep in my arms - for the second time since we met up - or that I really enjoy this... NO! Vel is my friend, and nothing more. A friend. Nothing more, nothing less. Just a friend...' She was comfortable as she was; it may have looked friendly, but it was not really. She was merely tired and he was the only thing around that even resembled a pillow.

                Vel awoke calmly. She didn't thrash and entangle herself in the blankets, nor did she allow her brain to muddle. "Wait... When I fell asleep, I was outside. I was leaning on Ratchet. Then how...? Oh, he must've carried me in sometime before dawn," she noted, glancing at the clock; it read 7:15 in glowing green numbers, and the sun didn't rise too much before that. "But...this is his bed. That's his hat. If I'm here, then...did he honestly take the couch?" She swung her legs over the side of the bed, and, as an afterthought, plopped his hat on her head. It mashed the tuft of hair in front down into her eyes. Her ponytail was tangled, too. She took it down and ran her fingers through it, then left the band on her wrist.

                "Mm, mornin' guys. Er, Clank. Where's Ratchet?"

                "Over there. I am not sure exactly what time the two of you traded, but it must have been very early. What happened?"

                "Insomnia. We both found out we were awake, so we sat up and talked a while, then I guess I fell asleep and he put me in his bed and took the couch I'd been sleeping on earlier. And, hey, can you make pancakes?"

                "What kind? Blueberry? Buttermilk? Bacon-'n'-eggs?"

                "The regular kind. No fancy junk; just plain, ordinary pancakes."

                "Of course. I shall attend to the matter of food so that you do not burn yourself in your half-condition."

                Vel blinked. Was she really only half-awake? 'I must be, or else I'd know what I was thinking of doing now is pure craziness.' She walked in to the living room and touched his shoulder. "Psst," she hissed. "Hey, Ratchet, wake up!" She poked him again, this time a bit harder. "Clank's gonna make some pancakes, and I'll eat 'em all if you don't wake up."

                He opened one eye and blinked. "Go 'head...bu' gimme my hat."

                "Ow! OW! Hey, easy on the ears!" she whined as he pulled a little too hard and bent her ears at an odd angle. "Ratchet, that really hurt!"

                "S'ry," he mumbled, rolling over. He snorted and yawned, then started snoring.

                "Hmpf! Fine, then. Be that way. But if you're not up after breakfast, you're askin' for it."

                Of course Vel knew that he wouldn't wake up. He was obviously too tired. But, considering that she wasn't sure of the other Lombax in the area, but she still wanted to go outside, he had to be up. And so she was forced to resort to her childhood method of waking him from his afternoon nap to play:

                The reclining chair fell over backwards with a loud thunk!, and Ratchet tumbled over himself as well. Vel, on the other hand, was prepared for such a thing. She had often tackled him as a young girl, and every time had the same result: they yelled at each other for a minute, then forgot all about it. This time was no different. "HEY! What was that for, huh?!?"

                "You were asleep. I wasn't. End of story," she replied matter-of-factly.

                "Well, next time, why don't you go to sleep instead of waking me up?"

                "Because," she said, poking his ribs, "that's no fun."

                "No fun to fall over backwards, either."

                "Well, then, sleep with your feet up -ouch!" she winced. "Stupid cramps."

                "Vel, I don't think it was something you ate. You're sick. Maybe -"

                "NO! I'm fine! Perfectly healthy! I am NOT sick, got that!?" Her expression changed so rapidly. One moment she was playfully teasing him, the next she was in pain and snapping at every little thing. She growled, low in her throat, and showed her teeth. Ratchet backed away. She may have been one of his closest friends, but even he knew that she meant business. He raised himself into a squat where he was still on her eye level but more prepared to move.

                "Vel?" She snarled a response, her nose completely wrinkled up. "Okay, Vel, this isn't funny any more. C'mon, I'll help you up." He stood and extended his hand. The noise attracked Clank's attention, and he poked his head out of the kitchen to ask what was going on. Vel seized both the moment of distraction and Ratchet's fingers between her teeth. And this time, it was no playful nip. She ground her teeth, trying to puncture the leather and causing Ratchet a great deal of pain. "OW! Hey, that HURTS! Let go!" He pried his fingers from her jaws and shook them out. "Man, that smarted. Vel, what's wrong?"

                "Ratchet? Vel? Is something the matter?"

                "I'll say there's something the matter! Vel's gone completely loony!"

                "I can see that she is not herself this morning. What could possibly be wrong?

                "I dunno, but -WHOA!" Ratchet jumped out of her way as she leaped towards him, apparently trying to pin him to the ground. Her teeth were bared and seemed a little sharper than normal. They gleamed in the bright indoor lighting. Her fur was ruffled and fluffed up, standing on end to make her appear bigger. Or was she honestly getting bigger? It seemed that with every step, every movement, every twitch, her muscles became bigger, more taunt. Her tail lashed in anger. She growled.

                "Ratchet? What should we do?"

                "I dunno. We can't fight her, but it's obvious she -YAH!" The sound of Ratchet's voice seemed to provoke her. For with every word he spoke, she snarled and growled more and finally lashed out, this time with a punch. It clipped the edge of his jaw, but no more. He felt the wind in his furry ears. "Man, that was close! Let's get outside before she does that again." Ratchet dashed to his bedroom and got his gear, then he and Clank dashed out the door. Vel clawed at the inside.

                "What could have happened? Has anything like this ever happened before?"

                "No, never. I heard of a few people going crazy when they get out in the heat for too long, but never for no reason. Any ideas?"

                Clank shrugged. "Well, since it wasn't heat that made her insane, perhaps it was something else?"

                "No duh, genius! I wanna know what that 'something else' was!"

                "Perhaps it was something she came in contact with. A chemical substance? Hypnotism? Gas? Toxic waste?"

                "Pokitaru! The Blarg! They dropped that garbage in the water!"

                "Well, what do you propose we do now?"

                "Do you know of any scientists or doctors around here that we could enlist the help of?"

                "I think there's a hospital down in the valley," Ratchet said. "But to get to it, we'd have to leave Vel here. And I don't trust my neighbors. They're nice guys, but they're trigger-happy. If they see a strange, crazed girl running around, they're sure to shoot her."

                "Is it possible we could take her with us?"

                "Pfft. Not likely. Did you see how strong and fast she was? If we leave, she'll probably bust the door down and run crazy! And to take her anywhere like she is, we'd need a muzzle!"

                "Perhaps you could stay here and guard the door, while I go and find the hospital."

                "Alright. That could work. It's over the side of the cliff there, down in Kyzil Valley." Clank set off quickly. Not only was he worried about Vel's health, but his own as well. Ratchet was larger and faster than he and could probably defend himself from her if need be. He, on the other hand, was in danger. He might have been made of one of the hardest - and shiniest - alloys known, but she seemed to be getting stronger by the minute; the toxin must have been somewhat simular to a steroid.

                Vel growled from inside the door. Ratchet was sitting on it to prevent her from pushing it up and open. Every once in a while, a super-powered charge would open the hatch just a crack or two and she could smell the open air outside. It was fresher, cleaner than the air inside, which smelled of oil and grease. She jumped again, ducking her head and ramming her shoulders against the metal. The door gave more this time; she was getting stronger. Her muscles bulged as she crouched again. She leaped.

                Success! The door fairly flew open, right off of its hinges. She looked around, blinking in the light. Her eyes quickly adjusted, however, and she got her bearings. Ratchet was getting his, too, but not from light disorientation; the door had thrown him against a rock rather painfully. He moaned and stood up, clenching his wrench tightly. "Vel? All you alright? Can you...even...understand me?" She growled more, showing every tooth in her mouth. It was even open to show the huge molars that could not only chew a salad, but also crush bones.

                She went into a ready crouch, preparing to strike. Her fingers, which were now so thick with muscle that they could hardly bend and as such worked more like paws, were curled to accentuate her claws. "Hrrr...kkk!" She snarled and hissed, lashing her tail. It had lost its whipping grace and was now about the size of the OmniWrench's handle, perhaps bigger. Her whole impression was one of hideous power. And all that strength was aimed at Ratchet!

                He barely had enough time to jam the handle of his wrench between her jaws and stop her from biting him. She slobbered over the metal, gnashing her teeth. Ratchet was just glad she didn't have enough sense to kick; the claws on her toes may not have been sharp, but with the power that bulged under the stretchy pants she wore, they could've filleted him open in a second. 'I hope Clank hurries...'

                Clank, in fact, was having no problems whatsoever. At least, none that he counted as problematic. He used his Heli-Pack to glide to the bottom, but he was a far cry from anything resembling a hospital. So, with his usual optimism, he set out at a brisk pace. Well, to him it was brisk. In fact, it was hardly more than a slow trot to most; his legs were too short to carry him any mesurable distance in one stride.

                "If I were a strange, furry creature, where would I keep my medical facillities? Of course, it always helps to know what one is looking for in the first place. Most Lombaxian structures seem to be rounded Xs or some variation thereof, with most of it underground to avoid the heat. I see no such buildings here. Oh, well."

                A blinding whirlwind of sand suddenly rushed past him. When the dust settled, there was a young Lombax starring at him from an old hoverboard. "Hey, lookie!" she cried in delight. "I found...a robot. Whoopie. Thought it was somethin' useful." She was probably a little over half Ratchet's age, around eleven or so. Her hair was brown and pulled into a high braid. "What's a little shorty like you doin' out here, anyway?"

                "I am urgently seeking a hospital. Perhaps you can be of assistance to me, miss?"

                "Miss," she giggled. "Sure, Mr. Robot. It's off that way about five miles. If you're tryin' ta walk there, it'll take ya forever. Here, I'll give you a ride on my hoverboard. I'm goin' into town for my mom anyway, so I may as well help ya." She set him on the back half of the board, trying to maintain her balance with most of her foot room gone. "I've never ridden double before. Tell me if I get goin' too fast for ya; I like ta race!" She powered the board up and they zipped away.

                "How long's this gonna take? Mom wants me ta get groceries, and they'll spoil if I leave 'em out in this heat too long," she said as they entered what passed for a town on Veldin. On the surface, it was a rather dull place. Just a bunch of metal spheres poking out of the ground. Occasionally a Lombax stepped out of the top of one and entered another, but there were no mindbogglingly-large structures to be seen. The ones that really stuck up were unmanned - or perhaps unfurred or unlombaxed? - radio towers to boost signals.

                "I do not know. It depends on how many patients the doctor has right now."

                "If I know this place, they're bored stiff down there." She kicked at the dirt. "Doctor's ain't much use in these parts. Everyone lives all spread out and's their own doctor. 'If ya can't cure it yourself, then at least don't start an epidemic by exposin' everybody else,' that's what my mom says."

                "I see. But you do have a doctor here, am I correct?"

                "Yeah, we got one. He's a little loopy, though. Kinda nutty from not gettin' out. I saw 'im once. Said somethin' 'bout antitoxins."

                "That's what I'm looking for. A friend was poisoned by the Blarg and we need the reversal syrum, if there is one. Ratchet would be devistated if anything happened to her."

                In actuallity, Ratchet was more concerned about himself than Vel at that moment. He was the one in danger of losing a limb, not her! He couldn't use any of his weapons against her, as he did not know how strong she was deffensively, so he was trying to make do with just his wrench. She was insanely strong on her offense, though, and he was lucky if he blocked her attack. "C'mon, Vel, chill out. Stop trying to rip my head off!"

                He backed up quickly, trying to avoid her lunge, and was caught teetering on the edge of the cliff. She coiled her legs under her, ready to spring again. Her recklessness sent them both tumbling over the side, bouncing off rocks and scruffy plant roots, right down through the mists that continually surrounded the plateau. Ratchet managed to stop himself on a narrow ledge - or rather, he hit a rock at the right angle and it stopped him; he was too busy worrying about how not to break his neck to try and stop. He sat up and shook his head to clear it.

                Vel stopped herself moments before she hit the bottom. She turned around and snarled. Ratchet pulled his legs up over the ledge, getting his dangling feet away from her jaws. She jumped and lashed out, trying to get ahold of him, but the almost sheer cliff face prevented it. 'Clank's been gone over an hour. I wonder if he made it?'

                Just as Ratchet thought those words, the young Lombax girl returned with Clank and a doctor on a hovercraft. "Ratchet! I brought help!"

                Clank's voice distracted Vel momentarilly and she turned, racing towards them at unbelievable speed. "Um, I'd better get home before the food spoils. G'bye!" The young girl grabbed her hoverboard and sped away as fast as she could go. Vel hardly noticed; the loss of one was a trivial matter to her. Nothing to worry about. She was hungry from exertion and needed food; any one of the Lombax around looked equally appetizing. Instinct told her that fat was fast energy and protein was long-term, but in much simpler terms: eat fatty meat. The bane of all dieters is that horrid instinct, but her concious, thinking mind was nowhere to be found. It was as if she had become no better than a slobbering beast.

                The docter quickly pulled out a blowdart and hit her in the leg. She collapsed almost immediately, growling quietly. "It's good that you got me in time, yah? We must act quickly. You there, boy!" he yelled to Ratchet, who was still slightly off-kilter from the fall. "Help me lift her into the back. It's cooler back there. We need to keep her cool and quiet until I have the syrum ready. The tranquilizer will keep her out for a few hours, and shade will keep her cool. Keep her heart in decient shape, yah?"

                Ratchet hardly nodded as he lifted her limp body into the covered back of the hovercraft. She wasn't that much heavier than he ever remembered her being, but much bulkier. Her arms and legs must have been twice their normal size; it was as if she had broken every bone in her body. He picked up a cloth and dipped it in a bucket of water that the doctor had brought along, then placed it over her eyes, which were now closed. Her breathing was slow and steady like a normal sleep.

                He placed her head in his lap and quietly stroked her hair during the ride. She made no movements, no intention of waking or attacking. 'That must've been some drug. She's out cold.' In this calm state, she had a sort of wild, unusual beauty, the captivating kind that all would be inclined to feel in the presence of physical strength. The horror was gone, and in its place Ratchet felt a strange sensation. Not exactly pitty, though it was something close to it, but a feeling of caring protectiveness. He mouthed her name, but no sound came out, and no one noticed.

                "Hurry up, boy, she's in bad shape. Hurry, I said!" The doctor was hardly caring when they reached his clenic. Ratchet lifted her again, trying to keep her in as comfortable a possition as possible that would still allow him to move freely, and the group decended into the building. "Put her on that table there and secure her. Those restraints are some of the strongest there are, and when she wakes up, we'll need every ounce of strength we've got, yah?"

                "Can you reverse the mutation?" Clank asked.

                "Well, that's a good question. Judging from her symptoms - elevated heart rate, increased muscle mass, bloodthirstiness - I'd say that yah, I can fix 'er. Of course, I'll need to run a few tests first. Saliva will do; no need for blood or other such invasiveness."

                "I'm probably covered in spit. She tried to bite me more times today than in her entire life!" Ratchet said, tightening the last strap. He sat down backwards on a nearby chair, folding his arms along the back and resting his eyes. Or at least, that's what he would've told anyone who asked; his eyes snored.

                When he managed to drag himself to a state of groggy conciousness, he was in a different room - it was grey, not blue - and on a hard matress. Clank stood over him. "Ah, you're awake. Good."

                "How's Vel?" were the first words out of his mouth.

                "She should be fine. Dr. Matis said everything would be normal within three days. Right now she's asleep."

                "Doctor...who? What?"

                "Dr. Matis, the man whose help we have enlisted. I was directed here to him by a kind young girl." Ratchet stood up, half-stretching, but he was too worried to relax. He yawned from the stress. "You should go back to sleep. You are still tired, and it is now midnight. I will wake you in the morning. They have excellent recharge facillities here, both robotic and Lombaxian. I suggest we both make use of them."

                "'Excellent facillities'," Ratchet muttered, resettling. 'Excellent facillities my tail! This bed's lumpy and hard as a rock. The sheets smell like old perfume and the whole place reeks of cleaners. Even garbage smells better than this...garbage!' He smiled at his own lame pun. 'I'll wait for Clank to completely shut down, then I'll go check on Vel.'

                He lay there for what seemed like forever, waiting for his little robotic friend to decide to go into regenerative mode. Clank had a good idea of what was on his mind and did not think it good for his own health. But, even robots have a patience and boredom limit before they begin to nod off, and, fortunately, his was extremely short that night. He decided that it would be better to leave Ratchet to his own devices and shut down properly, rather than wait for his circuts to wind down themselves.

                Ratchet moved slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible on the crinkly waterproof sheets. They were designed so that any patient could use them, even those who had lost control of their bladders like little cubs. He rolled over and hung his legs off. When Clank made no sound from his corner, he slid off and stood still a moment more. With no arguement from the robot, he walked in his slowest, quietest movement, legs wide to prevent his jeans from rubbing together and making a sound. Even his padded footfalls seemed obnoxiously loud.

                He wandered around the halls, aimlessly poking his head in cracked doorways. Most were empty. One held a small family; apparently, the mother had just given birth. The couple was young, not much older than he was, perhaps in their mid-early twenties. A small child was in her arms. It whimpered in its sleep, and he slipped away before the mother woke up. Finally, just as he was about to give up, he found her room. 'Stupid me,' he scolded himself. 'I went to the right instead of the left! I went full-circle when I only needed to go one room over.'

                She looked peaceful, and a good deal smaller. Her arms were now roughly the same size as his, perhaps a bit smaller. Her fingers looked like they were dexterous and moveable now, and her claws seemed less dangerous. Even tied down as she was, it seemed that she had no intention of moving, unlike the last time he'd seen her, when even in sleep she looked ready to lash out. "Poor Vel," he whispered, stroking her furry cheek. She didn't respond.

                "This is my fault," he went on. "If we hadn't gone to Pokitaru, if I hadn't shoved you in that toxic water, then you wouldn't be stuck in this mess. I'm sorry, Vel." He sat down on a chair and leaned against the cold table. "How can anybody sleep on this? It's like ice!" His ears pricked up as he heard soft footfalls comming down the hallway. Quickly, he moved to the other side of the bed so that he wouldn't be so visible from the door.

                The nurse put her head in the door. Ratchet hunkered lower and dropped his ears as low as they would go, trying to hold still and be as small and unnoticable as possible. She smiled when she realized he was there, but said nothing. She'd seen quite a few patients with friends and loved ones who wouldn't leave their side and knew it would be pointless to tell him to leave. She left as quietly as she had come.

                Ratchet sat up and breathed again. "That...was too close. I gotta be more careful." He looked at Vel; her breathing was slow and even, her body relaxed. "How on Veldin can you sleep?" he whispered. "That table's so cold and hard; you must be uncomfortable." He stood up and looked around for a blanket or a pillow, but this room was more like a lab than a real room. Everything here was hard and cold and sterile, devoid of emotion. 'Hey, it's a fire blanket! I'll bet I could fold this and she could use it as a pillow. At least that way she won't have a giant crick in her neck when she wakes up.' He slid the blanket under her head and smoothed her ruffled hair; she must've woken up while he had been asleep in the other room and thrashed around in delerium. "G'night, Vel," he said, resting his own head next to hers.

                Ratchet blinked as light hit his lids. 'Man, I really slept wrong. My neck...ow! Dang, my neck hurts.' He lifted his head and cocked it, getting the gravel out. "Ooo...man, that smarts! Gotta remember not to sleep...like that...again..." His words trailed off as he noticed the doctor looking at him, one hand still on the light switch.

                "Sleep well?" he teased.

                "Ha ha, very funny. And no, I didn't." He rubbed his neck, trying to occupy himself so that he wouldn't blush.

                Dr. Matis looked at Vel and checked her pulse on one wrist. "Well, she's better. Her heart's back to normal, yah? She should wake up some time this evening; the tranquilizers should be worn off by then. It'll be better if she's awake at night, at least for a little while."

                "Wha-huh? Why?" Ratchet was still half-asleep, still rubbing the crusties out of his eyes.

                "Mortality rates peak at two in the morning. If she is awake then, then there is less of a chance of, well..." The doctor stopped, sensing that this was very tretorous territory. "Let's just say it'll be better if her schedule remains backwards for the first night. She's past the most dangerous part, anyway, yah? Right now, she just needs rest, and you need coffee and donuts. C'mon, kid, let's go get breakfast."

                Ratchet's ears and tail flicked. He didn't really like people from the medical field, but this guy wasn't too bad. After all, how bad could a guy who offers you coffee and donuts instead of a lecture be? "Yeah, but first I gotta wake Clank. He'll freak if we dissappear."

                The coffee machine at the Kyzil Breakfast Shoppe wasn't working. "Well, this is a fine kettle of fish, yah?"

                "Yeah, yeah,yeah, fine kettle a' fish. Watch. Fix it in no time." Ratchet smacked his fist against the machine. Only, instead of fixing it, he made quite sure that it wouldn't work for a long time; the metal must've been old and rusty inside, because it collapsed in. "Whoops! Heh heh, didn't do it," he said, edging back sheepishly and trying to think of a tune to whistle.

                "Ratchet! You did too break the coffee machine!"

                "Shh, Clank. No one saw me do it, except for -"

                "Heya, you! What for yous a-breakin' my coffee 'chine, huh?"

                "- the manager. Great," Ratchet moaned, looking at the man's name tag. His tail flicked.

                "So? Yous a-gonna pay me or yous a-gonna do dishes? Yous already gots-a gloves on. So? Wha'sit gonna be, fuzzball?" The Lombax's ears were ticking in rhythm with the clock: flick...flick...flick...

                Ratchet sighed. "How much?"

                "One a-hundred, and not a bolt less!" The younger Lombax growled and handed over the bolts. That could've bought a hundred Blaster shots! Or two Devastator ammo! Or a Visibomb! But no, it had to go to a stupid coffee machine! "Now, yous-a get out. Yous-a done enough damages!"

                They left and got their breakfast from an old, smaller place whose sign was so old you couldn't read it any more. It was run by a friendly old couple, who turned out to be Dr. Matis's parents. They wanted to allow their son and his "guests", as they said, to eat for free, or at least half-price, but their son would have none of it, saying that relations should not be taken advantage of.

                That evening, Ratchet was back to watching Vel sleep. He stayed there as much as possible, leaving her side only when nature called. The nurse brought him a tray of food, but he hardly touched it. The food smelled stale and artificial; rehydrated food was hardly edible. He sipped the pulpy juice to make her happy so she'd leave him alone. That was what he wanted: to be alone. Not totally, because his female friend was still there, but alone with his thoughts. He whispered things, muttering some to himself and some that Vel would've heard if she were concious. Some that may have even made her blush if she had heard them.

                Around nine, just after the day shift left work, she started to thrash around. "Vel, you okay?" Her eyes opened in response to her name, but nothing else. They were flat, dull and lifeless, the cold, unseeing eyes shallower than a puddle. She flashed them around, but there was no real way of describing what she saw. It was a flat, two-dimensional world; her eyes, though binocular in design, were functioning separately. Her brain viewed each eye as its own entity and not an overlapping viewfield with depth. What she saw really equated to a child's pencil drawing shaded by a master artist: there were lights and darks, but no colors, and no depth. Everything was hazy. The sight overloaded her mind and she lapsed into unconciousness again.

                Later, after Clank was soundly plugged in and shut down, she opened her eyes again, but this time, they saw colors and shapes and forms and lengths and widths and hights and depths. Ratchet had fallen asleep again, his head laying on the pillow beside hers on his folded arms. She unstuck her tongue from the roof of her dry mouth. "R...Rak...ktchekt..." It was so hard to talk. She licked her lips several times, trying to get her saliva working again. "Ra-chet. 'Ey, Ratchet." Restrained as she was, she could move her head enough to nuzzle him, which she did. He wouldn't move, despite her repeated nudging. "Wake up," she prodded.

                'Stubborn boy. Why doesn't he answer me? Is he really that tierd? Golly, if he needs that much sleep the he has to... HEY! Why am I tied down like this, anyway?!' She looked around, seeing the hospital-slash-laboratory room with its cold walls and many test tubes and vials and cabinets with who-knows-what in them. There were several strong straps lashed across her body: one at the ankles, one under the knees but across her tail, one over her thighs, one across her stomach, and one holding her shoulders still and really bothing her; it prevented her from lifting her head and getting a good view of the room. 'Did he get that mad at me? The last thing I remember is trying to wake him up. My head sure does hurt. Man, if I ticked him off bad enough that he clouted me and gave me a concussion or something...'

                She nudged him again with the tip of her nose. This time, though, he did respond: by repositioning himself so that all she could reach was the very tip of his nose, and then only if she strained. "Vel..." he whined. She smiled, quietly, and tried not to blush. At least he was concerned.

                "Ratchet? You awake, or sleeptalking?" She twisted her neck again, looking at him. "Sleeptalking," she decided. She put her nose out again, but only succeeded in brushing the tip of his. It was very quiet; the hustle and bustle of the day was absent. 'What time is it, anyway? I need to wake him up to ask him that, at least. But how...?' A plan came to mind, but it wouldn't work. 'That's crazy,' she scolded herself. 'Besides, I'd need a whole bucket of water to wake Ratchet! And, if it did work, then what? It'd be so embarrassing.' And, as she lay there contemplating her options, that little voice in the back of her head piped up:

                'And it wouldn't be embarrassing to be caught like you are?'

                'Not like that kind of embarrassing,' she countered. 'Besides, this is his doing, not mine. And I must be crazy; I'm talking to myself.'

                'Oh, you're crazy, all right -'

                '- The voice agrees...'

                'Crazy for Ratchet.'

                'WHAT!?!? No no no no no no no!'

                Ratchet, however, was dreaming. He was back ten years, watching his younger self play with Vel. He walked toward them, called out to the two kids who looked just like them, but no matter what, they ignored him and went about playing. As he came forward, their game lead them away. When he increased to a trot, they straightened their course so as to move away faster; tag was too much fun. He found himself running over the warm sand, sun on his back and wind in his fur. He had forgotten all about the two kids; he wanted to find Vel, his Vel, the real Vel, and be able to share this pleasant scenery with her.

                Soon he was high up, standing on one of the leisure platforms built in the highest cliffs. He had once found a golden-colored bolt up there, but today the gold he found was alive. Vel sat motionless, looking at him with emotionless eyes that still seemed to be becconning him, almost begging him to sit and talk with her. She always enjoyed sitting together with him and just talking silly small-talk conversations. Nothing big or deep, but just to hear their voices answering one another. Who was he to disappoint her?

                She turned to look at him and put out her hand as if she were going to touch his cheeck. When he pulled back, despite every fiber of his being protesting, even telling him to lean forward and hold her hand against his face, she dropped her hand limply and turned away, her eyes shimmering with tears. He reached to dry them for her, but she jerked her head and wiped them herself, standing up. "When you're ready," she said in a monotone. "When you're ready."

                The wind picked up, blowing dust around. "Ready?" he called over the gale. "Ready for what?"

                Vel walked to the edge of the platform and turned around again to face him. "Come here,"she said, spreading her arms as she'd done when they'd danced together. "Close your eyes, trust me, and come here." He obeyed, knowing that she would not ask him to step off unless she had personally spread a safety net. He kept walking, and walking, but each step seemed to get him nowhere. He should have walked off the edge long ago, but his feet kept hitting solid ground, and he wondered if he was walking on air.

                Gradually, he began to pick out her scent more. The wind calmed and he caught the smell, thick and yet dainty, warm but not overpowering. A smell you could almost touch, that you could try to drink, but that was so light you never saw it. Slowly, he even began to feel her breath on his face in her slow, steady rhythm. "Ratchet." He opened his eyes.

                He opened his eyes. Vel froze, her own eyes wide with embarrassment. The tips of their noses were just barely touching, but that proximity alone was enough to make them blush. But that was not why she was so embarrassed. Nay, her embarrassment came from the fact that her tongue was sticking out - just enough to touch the edge of his nose where soft, leathery skin met warm, furry upper lip. And he had to pick the exact moment to wake up! They stared for what seemed like an eternity. Quickly, Vel pulled her tongue back into her mouth and they both looked away. 'Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid! What were you thinking? Licking him?! Come ON!'

                "So," Ratchet said, breaking the awkward silence, "you're awake. How you feeling?"

                "Okay, I guess,"she replied, still keeping her head turned.

                "That's good. I'm glad you're okay, Vel." He hugged her as best he could. She couldn't very well return the gesture, but she leaned her head against him and made a slight purring sound deep in her throat. It was all she could do.

                "What happened?"

                "You went psycho on me. The doctor said it was a reaction to the pollution in Pokitaru's waters and he reversed it."

                "Oh...I guess that's why my head hurts like it does. Feels like somebody took a Walloper to it. Dang, it smarts. You got any asprin?"

                "Nope," he laughed. "Wouldn't you know it? We're in a hospital, of all places, and I don't have any asprin!"

                She smiled at the joke. "Well, could you at least let me up?" She looked down at the annoying restraints.

                "Oh, sure, yeah...As long as you promise not to go insane again!" He fumbled with the buckles, his nervous fingers shakey now that she was awake. She sat up and rubbed her head, blinking and shaking it to clear the fog that had settled from changing possitions too fast. When it the room stopped spinning, she tried to get up, but her legs buckled. "Hey, hey, watch it,"he scolded, catching her before she fell.

                She looked up at him backwards. "Thanks. My legs are like rubber right now. Guess I shouldn't've been out for so long. What time is it now, anyway?"

                He shifted her weight over to one arm and looked at his watch. "Eleven-thirty."

                "Then I oughta just go back to bed."

                "NO!"

                "What for? If it's already eleven-thirty, then why shouldn't I just go back to bed?" She pushed herself off him roughly and stood up.

                "Because...um..." What could he say? That she was in danger if she went to sleep? "Because, uh..."

                "Ratchet? 'Because' doesn't cut it. Never has, never will. Now, either give me a reason, or get out so I can sleep."

                "Because...well, the doctor said you should stay up" 'That's true, at least. I don't need to start lieing to her.'

                "Why?" She sat down. "Though, this table is as hard a rock. I doubt I could sleep on it very well."

                "Yeah." He sat down beside her and looked up at the ceiling, swinging his legs back and forth.

                "Ratchet?" she said at length. "What am I gonna do?"

                "Whadda you mean?"

                "About my family. I appreciate you letting me stay at your house until I can find out what to do, but I can't stay at your place forever. I know my dad didn't betray us...I know it. They kicked him out because somebody lied to them!"

                "Vel..."

                "Call me crazy if you want, but I know better! He didn't do it! He didn't! He was framed!"

                "I didn't say you were crazy. I just want you to be quiet; Clank's sleeping...or, recharging...or...whatever... in the next room, and you'll wake him up."

                "Oh..."

                "Besides," he smiled. "I'll think of something. We'll find out who framed your dad. I promise." He gripped her hand firmly. She squeezed back and leaned against him.

                "Thanks...fuzzball."

                "Don't call me that," he muttered, digging his claws into her hand. She whined and he softened his grip. "Sorry."

                "S'okay."

                "Hey, don't fall asleep!" He shook her lightly. "Stay awake!"

                The next morning came and went uneventfully, and Vel was released that afternoon. She smiled and fairly skipped to the hovertaxi that Dr. Matis had prepared for them to get back to Kyzil Plateau; it was much too far to try to walk, and the ship was up there, too. Then again, the hovertaxi was very slow. It was a boring ride. Nice scenery, yes, but boring. Ratchet explained to Clank how they were going to help clear Vel's family name.

                "Do you know where your parents are?"

                "No... They're probably still locked up in prison, but I don't know where."

                "The most logical place would be the planet Sirlamaar. It is known for its high-security," Clank said. "However, it is very far away on the outskirts of the other side of the galaxy. I would suggest that we leave right away."

                Vel was tired from playing rock-paper-scissors all night keep herself awake. As soon as the rumble of the atmosphere was gone, she went in the back and curled up to sleep on the bed. Ratchet was tired, too, but he had to fly the ship. Well, he didn't have to, but he was rather protective of his belongings and Clank wasn't begging to pilot it. He was nodding off and, oddly enough, not trying to do barrel rolls and other tricks; he flew straight until he fell over and knocked the controls. "Dang, I gotta remember not to stay up all night and then fly. Man."

                Clank looked at him suggestively. "I could always take the controls, you know, and then you could go to sleep in the back. Unless, of course, Vel has already taken your bed. In which case.... "

                "Zip it, Clank. You can fly, but I'm sleeping right here." He put his feet up on the windshield and leaned the chair back, crossing his arms angrily and settling into sleep with a growl. The flight would take a good seven hours - more than enough time for a good nap.He was a little peturbed at Clank for waking him up, but he was the only one who really knew how to land the ship. He couldn't start it, but he was needed to land it. The shaking of reentry would've made it hard to sleep, anyway.

                Ratchet finished landing his ship and Clank woke Vel up. As the three of them exited, she looked around and observed, quite bluntly, that "This place doesn't look like much, does it?" Indeed it did not. The sky was dark with clouds that rumbled ominously, ever-threatening to drop their bottoms and always flashing lightning around from one cloud to the next. It was not the dangerous cloud-to-ground lightning of Oltanis that had struck Clank, but the beautiful sheet lightning that danced across the sky. Each flash revealed a dingy landscape that resembled a dirty, water-logged, swampy Veldin. Everything was a dark, mucky-brown color. There were colloumns of rock the cascaded into the sky, drawing St. Elmo's fire at their peaks. In some of the deeper crevasses there was sticky mud that bubbled from an underground spring and formed quicksand. And everwhere else there was hard-packed dirt the color of leather.

                "Clank? Where's the jail?"

                "I don't know. It took me a little while to find this planet, considering that I had no InfoBot to obtain coordinates from and I had to find it by hand. I do not have a map, but perhaps Gadgetron does."

                "I'm one step ahead of ya." Ratchet pullted the Map-O-Matic from his belt and tapped it. After a moment of beeping to locate itself, the device displayed a map of the planet's surface. "It looks like it's up there, but we'll have to take the long way around. The back is probably guarded by some really big bots, and I don't want the law on my back, too, from having to sneak in an air vent; we'll go straight up the front, as visitors. The Blarg have it in for me, and that's enough!"

                "Really? The law's not on your tail? But you must've stolen that ship..."

                "From the Blarg. If they called the cops on us, then their plan to steal chunks of planets would've been discovered. Of course, with a police force that doesn't notice when several planets are under attack, I don't think they'd be able to find just us, but the Blarg are over-careful. They don't want any more hastle than they have to have."

                "That is why they were building robots: so that they could use a mechanical...no, disposable...army," Clank spat. He did not like the way many looked at robots as expendable.

                "Come on. It looks like this canyon leads around to the front." Ratchet started off at a brisk pace, his legs covering almost his own hight with each stride. He stopped and turned when he did not sense them following. "Well? Are we going or not?"

                "I'm comming, I'm comming. Just hold your phone." The two straglers caught up,and Clank flipped to attatch himself to his partner's back.

                "Are you sure that this is a wise decision?"

                "What? Why?"

                "Well, think about it," Vel said, catching on and cutting off the little robot. "My parents are locked up for attacking Gadgetron. Since no one was hurt and the radio reports said they didn't blow up too much stuff, they should be out by now. So, I'm betting the Elder Council is paying these guys to keep them locked up."

                "We'll be fine. Besides, visiting's still legal, isn't it? And if anyone gives us trouble, then we can always call up a couple'a guns and blast our way out!"

                "This from the guy who doesn't want the law on his back? Yeesh!" They ran a short distance before Ratchet realized how big the planet was. This was no little hole in the wall! The map, which had made the planet seem small, was scaled down a considerable bit. He slowed down, realizing that they would be out of breath if they tried to run the whole way. So, they walked and, when the terrain smoothed out for a ways, they picked up the pace and trotted.

                "So, whadda we do?" Vel asked, looking at the guards from behind a rock. "Are we gonna just walk up and say, 'Hey, we'd like to talk to my parents'?"

                "Something like that," Ratchet growled, yanking her down so that her large ears, which she had perked up in excitement, would not give them away. "Gimme a minute to think."

                "I do not see the problem. If we are not wanted criminals, then what is there to fear from the law?"

                "Trigger-happy cop-bots? Auto-targetting security guns? Being shot on sight for not being in the schedule? Or how about harboring the daughter of a convict? And not just any convict,but a Veldinian exilee! And not just any Veldinian exilee, but the -"

                "Ratchet! Enough! I won't listen to you talk about my family that way! I'll go in myself, if that's what it takes! Clank? You comming or staying?" She said the last part none-too-gently, even though she was not mad at him. With a slight rumble in her throat she stormed up the the guards and demanded they let her in. Surprised, the guards backed up and opened the door for her. Without so much as a gruff 'thank you', she entered.

                Ratchet, who was still crouched indecisively behind the stone, watched wide-eyed as she got in without a hitch. Taking the oportunity, he darted up to the door, but he was stopped. Apparently, he looked a tad bit more suspicious than did a girl and a robot, and the guards had recovered from their shock. Vel stuck her nose out the door at them. "Oh, and he's with me. Let him go." Her eyes were narrowed dangerously and they glinted with an otherworldly light. It reminded Ratchet of how she had looked under the mutigen, but this time there was a gleam of intelegence that had not been there before. The guns that had been trained on his heart were dropped, and they even bowed a little for him.

                "How'd you do that?"

                "Easy. I knew they were used to taking orders without question, so I just barked 'em out like the Commander used to bark at his men back on Batalia."

                "You have got to teach me!"

                After a quick word with the robotic girl behind the counter, and another with the warden, Vel's parents were brought out to speak with them. Vel pressed her nose to the plexiglass, her breath fogging it. Maya put her hand out to her daughter's face, as if trying to pet her. "Oh, my baby..."

                "Mo-om!"

                "Sorry, honny. It's just been so...so long...since we saw you last..." She turned away from them, her shoulders shaking with tears that were barely held back.

                "Vel..." The man spoke up, finally drawing attention to himself. He was identifiable as an ex-fighter pilot, even in the bright green of the suit. The only things that he had kept as his own were the goggles and the small red silk scarf around his neck. "Excuse your mother. She's become...emotional." He patted her shoulder roughly. "Calm down, dear. It's not that bad. Keep your ears up."

                "Mom? Dad?"

                "Uh, look, I hate to break up the family reunion and all, but I seriously do not like the looks those guards are giving me."

                "Ratchet!" Clank scolded. Both of the older Lombax looked right at him.

                "Ratchet?!?" the both sputtered. Ace continued, "So, how are you?"

                "Alright."

                Maya looked at him critically, narrowing her eyes in focus. "You seem to be healthy. That's good, that's good. You appear to be alright. I was worried when I heard Veldin was under attack by the Blarg." She stroked her hair into its bun. She did not have Vel's soft honny-wheat silk, nor Reilly's short, spikey, fur-like hair; it was more of a light brown tinged with red and orange.

                "Yeah, that creep Drek was gonna blow it up, but me and Clank here stopped 'im."

                "Clank?"

                "A pleasure to meet you, madam, sir." He made a jerky half-bow, a tough thing to do without a waist.

                "Oh, isn't he adorable! Just like a little cub!"

                "Uh. Huh. Whatever. Can we hurry up?" Ratchet shifted his weight several times, trying to decide if he was more comfortable on his left or right foot, or if he should balance his weight and be ready for a passing guard who was just as bored. Vel turned sharply on the stool she sat on and glared at him.

                "You're right, of course. There aren't many visitors. The guards don't like strangers, so most people don't like to come. Now, what was it you two wanted?" Ace and Maya exchanged a glance suggesting that they already had an idea, but their looks changed to ones of seriousness when Vel spoke.

                "You didn't really betray Veldin, did you, dad? Did you? You must've been framed. You must have!"

                "I...I didn't...want you to get involved in that, Vel. You were so young, I thought I could give you a second chance. Your brother was already angry with the Elders, but I thought if he had quiet, elderly caretakers and hoverboarding as an outlet for his energies then he'd calm down and forget all about it and live his dream of being a pro hoverboard racer." He paused when Ratchet started to speak, but continued when he was shushed. "Mei was sixteen when it happened, so there was no hiding it from her. She's...on Kerwan. How old would she be now? Twenty?"

                "Twenty-five. She's seven years older than me, remember? But how? How did the Elders get the idea that you betrayed them?"

                "It...was..." He stopped and sighed, "It's too far in the past. It can't be changed now, so what does it matter?"

                "Because if we don't figgure it out, then you'll be living here forever! What happened?!" Her voice was low and pained; she wanted to scream at her parents, but the guards were looking at her suspiciously with every word.

                "It was Captain Qwark," Maya said, speaking up. Ratchet growled low and the fur across his shoulders stood up, but it was almost imperceptible. "Ace went to speak to him during one of his intergalaxtic tours, and not too long after that, things started happening. Rumors. People whispering where ever we went. Flattened ears and twitchy tails. Pretty soon, we got a summons from the Elders. They gave us two weeks to pack up and move out. You know the rest?"

                "Yeah, we know," Ratchet growled. He seemed almost double his normal size now, the way his shoulders were fluffed up. "That Qwark. I thought he'd only just started screwing up my life, but he's been messing it up since I was a kid! And to think...that...that...!"

                "Huh? What'd Qwark ever do to you? It's my life that's been goofed up so bad. I mean, you didn't get dumped on some stupid millitary planet with a bunch of smelly guys! Though, come to think of it, you might like that... The smelly part, I mean." Ratchet gave her a playful shove and just said that it was a long story.

                "What good will come of it, anyway?" Ace sighed; he had long ago resigned himself to being nothing but a traitor and a common theif, and not being very good at either of those. "No one will beleive you. Even if you get to where Qwark is, he'll have high-security guards all over. He'd never admit to fraud, even if you got to speak to him..."

                "No, he'll listen. Anyone will listen. You just gotta make 'em, that's all."

                "Make them? Ratchet, you are not dealing with a mindless machine."

                "And you would be...?"

                "A very resourceful and humble being of metal." Everyone began to laugh, their surroundings forgotten for a moment. Their laughter quickly died, however, and a business-like air resumed.

                "What I'm saying is, we go in, get Qwark to fess up, talk to the Elders, and get you guys back home."

                "Just like that? Think, Ace. We'll be back home... I can bake for the kids again... And you can go back to your real job... No more licence plates... No more raritanium mines... Just our normal, happy lives again."

                "Maya, as nice as that would be, I don't think the neighbors'll just open their arms to us. It's not exactly a secret as to why we don't live on Veldin any more."

                "But dad, why can't you at least try? When I was little, you alway kept telling me to do what I thought was right, even when everyone else picked on me. Why don't you follow your own advice!?" They all looked at her; quiet little Vel had opened her mouth quite loudly. She continued when no one spoke, "And you kept telling me, 'Don't mind them. Be you. Do what you know is right.' Is it right that for six years I haven't seen or heard from either of you? Is it right that you live here by the Council's whimsy? Is it? Is it!?"

                "No, Vel, it isn't right. But -"

                "'But' nothing, dad! We're going to Kerwan to find Mei, then we're going after Qwark. I'll get you out. I promise." She stood up, rather abruptly. 'If I stop now, I'll never be able to get out.' "Come on, guys. Let's go." Her voice was soft and quiet again, like her voice as a child. There was no millitary edge to her now. Her head was dropped low and her ears hung sadly; even her tail was still with emotion. She walked towards the door, and Ratchet and Clank followed, almost magnetically.

                "Which way to the ship and Kerwan?" she asked when they were out of the front guards' hearing range.

                "Back that way, around through the valley again. Or else we could..." Ratchet trailed off as she visibly stiffened; he could not suggest that they pass the prison again. "Never mind. Let's go." He pushed her arm gently to get her moving. She would walk, but not much. Her steps were small and dragged slowly, making scuff marks in the dirt rather than neat tracks.

                The clouds rumbled ominously. Then lightning crackled above and the rain came in a sudden deludge. It didn't bother them in a bit. Vel was too emotional to care, and Ratchet was too worried. Clank? He wasn't worried about moisture; he was rustproof and couldn't feel clamminess. He was, however, concerned about Vel. She was one of those poeple who teetered on the edge of insanity at times. He elbowed Ratchet in the back and whispered, as quietly as he could, "Do something!"

                Ratchet turned his head around and mouthed, "What?" Clank made a movement simular to shrugging, then turned back around. It was none of his business as to what was done, so long as it was done. 'Do something? Do what? What's he wanting me to do? I mean, Vel can get pretty tempermental when she's like this.' He winced as he remembered the few times he'd upset her badly and she'd socked him once or twice. Her anger was short-lived for the most part - it took a lot to make her hold a grudge - but she could get violent when she wanted or needed to be.

                "Erm, Vel? You okay?" She nodded but refused to look at him, even when he put a hand on her shoulder. "Okay...so you're okay, right?" She stiffened and stopped in her tracks, jerking her shoulder away and standing ridgid, clenching and unclenching her fists. The tip of her tail was curved up like a flag, signaling that she probably shouldn't be bothered right then. But who was Ratchet to heed signals? "Okay, so you're not okay." He really didn't know what to do; girls really confused him.

                She shook, refusing to cry. 'My eyes dried up years ago, and they won't start now!' she insisted to herself. She blinked, though her eyes were already half-closed. It wasn't fair! She and her family had done nothing wrong - or rather, her father would've done nothing wrong if circumstances had not gone awry - and yet here they were, scattered across the galaxy like dust in the wind. She could not wipe her eyes, or her hands would come away wet and they would see. She could not allow the tears to escape her, so she licked at the stray ones that came near her mouth. They were salty and, in some inexplicable way, the salty taste calmed her.

                "Vel?" Ratchet was really worried now. She did not normally act like this. 'Then again, she normally doesn't see her parents after such a long time.' He grasped her shoulders loosely, but tight enough for her to feel it. She put her chin into a hollow under her collarbone and kept it there, refusing him the ageold way of forcing someone to look at you. He gave his shoulders a slight twitch, trying to tell Clank to leave him alone for once. The robot didn't understand, and he sighed.

                The tiny, dismall sound made Vel look up. Though Ratchet was a few inches taller than her, she was seeing eye to eye with him. When he noticed that she was looking at him, wet though her cheeks may have been, he caught her jaw with one hand, blocking her from putting her head down again. She balked, which not only made her bump his chin, but he almost bit his tongue as well. She pulled back; her nose wrinkled in annoyance, but her eyes danced with laughter. One of Ratchet's better qualities was that he could make just about anyone laugh if he really put his heart into it.

                "What'd'ya do that for?" she yipped when she'd wriggled her jaw free. She worked it once or twice, rubbing her nose as well. He had a pretty hard jawbone. Ratchet just laughed and motioned for her to come.

                Clank was happy, too. He had taken it upon himself to act as Cupid - because it was painfully obvious to anyone but the two of them how much they cared for each other - but up until this point everything he'd suggested had turned out as a big joke. Now, however, Ratchet had followed his advice. Plus, Vel did not mope and drag her feet any more. Perhaps there was hope after all. Yes, Clank was a happy robot.

                They walked back in an almost amiable silence, slight curls dancing at the edges of the Lombax's mouthes. There was no fuss over the wet rain, even when they got into the dry cockpit. They shook themselves a bit like wet dogs, but that was all. Both had become accustomed to being at least slightly uncomfortable - after all, if Ratchet had changed every time he got back from a watery planet, he'd have run out of pants in no time at all - and Clank had no sense of feeling. The ride to Kerwan would have been uneventful, except that they were running very low on fuel, so they made a quick stop at Hoven.

                Rather, it should have been a quick stop, except that the people of Hoven were on high alert, and an unidentified, dark craft entering their airspace on spur-of-the-moment was not exactly cause for cellebration, though the rockets and missiles exploding around them did look an awful lot like fireworks. Like those chaser fireworks that sought your bodyheat and exploded on your heels as you ran. Or, in the case of the ship, your boosters.

                Down they fell. There was general mayhem, what with the screaming and yelling and seemingly random punching of buttons and turning of dials and nobs. Ratchet managed to make a seemingly clean landing in a blizzard, but the impact sent them all flying. Perhaps the landing wasn't as good as he'd origionally thought; the nose of the ship was a complete ruin and the back end was just was bad. It wasn't going to blow up or anything, but it was definately unfliable. 'Better fix that. Later, though. Where'd everybody else go?' He looked around, but all he saw was snow. The fatter flakes fell almost straight down, but the little flurries danced their way under his fur, freezing his skin.

                "Dang, I forgot how blasted cold this place is." Ratchet fluffed his fur up, trying to trap his body heat. He shifted from one foot to the other, rubbing his arms and curling his tail around his legs; he did not have the dexterity of Vel, even to reach around his own waist. Speaking of which, where was she? Where was Clank? And, where, exactly, was he? "Clank?! Vel?! Hello, anybody there? Can you hear me? HELLO!"

                "Good grief, you'd think you'd been out here for hours," Vel grumbled, the cold getting to her. "It's cold." She put her tail over her nose, the only place her pale skin was exposed.

                "Where's Clank?"

                "I dunno. I thought he was with you. I mean, you guys were up in the front, and I was in the back, so I thought you'd land pretty close together. Guess not, though."

                "Thank you, Miss Obvious." They glared at one another for a few moments, Vel from her place on her knees in the snow. She did not dare move for fear of breaking the stare and admitting defeat, although her posture was already one of submission. Their fur bristled, but more at the cold than each other. They meant nothing.

                "Clank is pretty light, though, so he may've flown out quite a ways. We were headed that way, so let's go look."

                In actuallity, Clank had been tossed out before they had hit the ground, so they were looking in the wrong direction. Not only had he been tossed out, but knocked out as well; his circutry had become frozen, and not by the cold. It would take a bit of tinkering to get him running again, but he was in no imediate danger. He was rustproof, there were no breaks in his metal covering, and the cold could not touch him.

                Lombax, however, were not immune to cold. They also weren't immune to ice between their toes. Vel had to stop and scrape the ice from between the padded areas of her feet periodically, but Ratchet refused to act "unmanly", even if it meant he was very uncomfortable. He wasn't above rubbing his toes together to remove some of the ice, though, nor was he above slapping his arms and ribs, and there was no way he could keep from shivering. Their fur was thin, however, and not meant to hold heat in, but to let it out. They were cold.

                "What time is it? After the sun goes down, it'll get even colder. We'd better have shelter and Clank both by then."

                Ratchet checked his watch. "Well, back on Veldin it's seven in the morning, but around here I dunno. Just a guess, but I think it's about five in the afternoon." He looked at the sky as he spoke; watching Vel clean her feet for the hundredth time wasn't much fun. "How much longer are you gonna keep doing that?"

                "Until I get out of this snow. It gets stuck between my claws and it really hurts. I'm surprised you aren't doing the same."

                "I don't feel pain," he said, unconciously wriggling his toes and dislodging a few bits of ice.

                "Uh. Huh. Whatever, Mr. Macho. Just don't blame me when you fall over and can't walk or you lose a toe or something." The fur along her spine ruffled under her shirt and her ears dropped along the sides of her head. "Come on, let's go."

                "Go where? We've been walking for hours and there's no sign of Clank."

                "I don't know. The ship's a wreck; you know of a mechanic around here? 'Sides you, but you ain't doin' anything! We gotta have someplace warm to spend the night, even if it's just a smelly old garage."

                "Well..." Ratchet looked around. The mountains were unfamilliar to him, but they did seem to jog his memory somehow. He checked the Map-O-Matic. "Yeah, I think so. At least there's this girl who thinks she's a mechanic. She gave Clank his Hydro Pack."

                "She?" Vel was courious now, and feeling slightly...jealous?

                "Mm-hm," he said, starting off almost in the direction they had come, but turned a bit left. "This weirdo tomgirl. She's about this tall," he held his hand up, "and she thinks Clank's cute or something. What's wrong with me, huh?"

                Vel flushed, both from embarrassment and anger. She knew from the way he'd spoke that she was no Lombax. 'And even if she was, what does he see in her? Am I... Wait a second, why do I even care?!' She dashed and caught up with him, gripping one strap across his shoulder and shaking with each word. "What. Do. You. Mean?" she rasped through gritted teeth.

                "Wha?" Ratchet's ears fell back along his head, making himself seem smaller. "I...uh...ack, do you really have to drive your fist into my ribs like that?" She released him, but she still stood there, almost spoiling for a fight. "It's getting pretty late, and this blizzard's picking up again. We'd...um, better hurry...or...or else you might catch something." He backed away from her and started walking again, this time going slower as visibility was diminishing.

                Vel stood motionless, her nose pale like the rest of her face under its mask of fur. '"What's wrong with me?"', she repeated his words in her mind, staring at his retreating form. She watched him walk; there was nothing wrong with his gait. Each step was long and purposeful, but not harsh or pounding. His arms kept a perfect rhythm, as if it required them to walk, too. His tail was laying on the snow, half-dragging in the calf-deep powder. He stopped, sensing that she was not with him, and turned over his shoulder. The fading light cast a golden glow across the snow, but around the edges of his face, where the fur stood out in a slight ruff, it created a halo. She stared.

                "What is it now? First you wanna kill me for who-knows-why, and now you're staring at me! What are you doing? Come on!" He waved for her to come, but her response was almost robotic, as if it were ingrained in her to obey him. "I'll never understand you females..."

                "I heard that, you know."

                "I know."

                "And you don't care?"

                "No." His tail flicked, and nothing more was said.

                The blizzard was now at a full rage, and they could barely see past their noses. Vel whined, but the wind drowned her out. It would take a yell to overpower the wind. "Hey, Ratchet! Are we there yet?"

                "How should I know? The map's gone dead!"

                "Whadda ya mean, 'dead'?"

                "I mean DEAD!" He shoved it towards her voice and hit her in the nose. She yelped. "Sorry. But, I mean, it's dead. Kaput. Out-of-order. Not working. Which way you want it said?"

                "No way. I want to be someplace warm, with a blanket and a fire and a cup of something hot. It's cold, it's late, and I'm getting very, very tired. How much further?"

                "I don't know. The last time I checked the map was a while back."

                "So we've been walking blind for who-knows-how-long?"

                "Basically, yeah."

                "That's great. Just great. Perfect! We're probably lost, turned around, and completely off course by now!"

                "Hey, don't be so negative! Look on the bright side: there aren't any anklebiters!"

                "Anklebiters?"

                "They're these really nasty, furry things with big teeth. They're only about waist high, but they're vicious. They'll strip your bones raw in minutes if you'd let 'em." Ratchet's shoulders bristled with horror at his own words.

                "Oh. Well, yeah, at least we haven't met any of those. Of course, now that I've said that, we'll probably find a whole pack of 'em, right?"

                "Of course. Wait, stop. I think I see eyes!"

                "What?!"

                "Just kidding, Vel. Just kidding."

                "RATCHET! Don't ever do that again! You like to gave me a heart attack!" she screeched angrily. Then, her voice turned to tired and worrisome, almost begging, "Let's stop for now. My feet are tired and I can't keep the ice out good. It's getting colder and the sun's going down. I don't think wandering around in the dark will do us any good."

                "Stop? And just sit down and freeze to death!? If we keep moving, then at least we'll keep a little warm!"

                "No, we won't freeze. If we dig into the snow and make a cave..."

                "Then we'll freeze slower."

                "I've read about people...animals...all sorts of things...they get stuck out in the cold and dig a snow cave, and they survive. It doesn't get but down to about freezing under the snow, and our body heat will warm the space. If we keep it small, then it'll warm up fast. I need it, too; my fingers are getting numb." She held up her hands, showing him the cold, stiffening digits, already collecting ice crystals. His face softened, and he nodded quickly, already scooping out the snow.

                "Well, then, let's get to work."

                "Snow caves don't dig themselves," Vel added. He gave her a look that clearly read, 'That is so lame!'

                In an hour or so, they had a cave of a respectable size. It was deep enough for them to sit in and their ears would still be out of the cold wind. Ratchet sat down first, slouching a bit. Vel curled into a ball beside him, still shivering. Her frail arms were clamped against her sides, her face burried in her hands on her knees to keep the heat in. Her toes were curled under her feet a bit, though Lombax feet were not made to contort in such a way. Her tail was wrapped around her waist once, then the furred tip was pressed over her nose, covering the one place that had no covering.

                "You're cold," he observed. There was no need for a question, but she nodded as if there had been one. Her eyes felt heavy; she closed them sleepily and felt an odd peacefulness. It did not matter that she was cold. It did not matter that Clank was missing. It did not even matter that Ratchet was worried for her, completely ignoring his own needs. All that mattered was that she could sleep here. "Hey, hey, hey! Are you going to sleep?" She didn't answer. "Vel? Are you okay? Vel!"

                Ratchet shook her shoulders roughly until she opened her bleary eyes. She blinked at him, her eyes only half-opened, and made a soft "hm?" sound. She licked her lips. "I'm tired, Ratchet. I'm tired. It's so cold." A shiver ran thought her arms, the small muscles twitching visibly under her fur. "So very, very cold. I can't stay awake. I'll freeze...then I'll fall asleep anyway." She gave a weak smile, her eyes closing. She fell against him, one arm slung over his waist. 'It doesn't matter that he's just my friend. I can curl up against him when I'm this cold. He's warm.' She didn't notice the irregularity of her own thoughts, or the fact that Ratchet was stiff with surprise and red with embarrassment. He kept his arms around her, though, realizing how cold she must have been.

                Edwina climbed out of the covered hovertaxi and into the biting winds. "'Bahye, girls. Let's do this agahn next week!" she called to the group of giggling females still squealing and giddy from their "girl's night out". They had gone to a movie, then to the mall and a salon for new outfits and a makeover, then to a kareoke club, and they weren't quite wound down. She waved as they flew away, then turned toward her home and into the driven snow. 'Man, Ah gotta buy mahself a new coat! This one's gettin' thin as a whip!'

                She slogged though the snow. Even though she was used to the cold and her fur was made to protect her from it, it still bothered her a bit. She pulled the hood of her coat tighter. 'Ah hope Ah don't get lost in this blizzard!' Her sense of direction in the blinding snow was impacable, however; there was next to no chance of her getting lost. Even tripping and falling - even tumbling head-over-heels down an icy slope - would not disorient her too bad. This was a good thing, as her foot found something burried under the snow and she went tumbling over it, sprawling face-down in the slush.

                "Owww, darn it, that really hurt. Man, what'd Ah trip oveh?" She turned around, kneeling in the snow, and brushed away the flakes. She was rather surprised when she found the thin, orangey-striped fur of what appeared to be a Lombax. "Wha? Ah've only seen one Lombax in mah life. What's one, no, two," she corrected, brushing away more crystaline powder to reveal the second form, "doin' way out har?" She looked closer. They were curled together into two balls, a knotty tangle of arms, legs, and tails. She put a hand on the back of the girl, who was curled tigher and wearing a thin lavendar tee. She was breathing, but each breath came with a shiver. Her male companion had his arms around her, but he was not shivering so bad. Perhaps he was more hypothermic than she was.

                Edwina looked closer at the male. He was slightly larger and darker, but not by much. He seemed familiar, too. 'He looks lahke...lahke that guy who bought mah Hydro Pack for a cute li'l robot. Ah wonder where the li'l cutie is? Aw, well, Ah best git these two inside 'fore they freeze ta death.' She tuggled at the bundle of fur, trying to lift them together, but, strong mechanic though she was, their combined weights were just too much, and she could not lift them. So, instead, she pulled them apart - rather difficultly, too; they were curled up pretty tight - and looped one arm around each of them. They were not light, and their legs dragged the snow. 'Ah hope Ah don't fahnd any more o' these crazy critters; Ah don't think Ah could carry another!'

                Luckily, there were no more Lombax burried under the snow - at least, not that she found - and her house was very close. It was built much like the houses on Veldin: mostly underground, though on Hoven it was to conserve heat, not avoid it. She had a bit of trouble getting her keys out, but nothing too bad. She set the two of them in front of the fireplace, then lit the kindling that was already in place. She turned up the heat a few degrees, too, then shed her coat and snow pants, leaving her in kahki overalls and a pink shirt with a picture of a bolt on it. She kicked off her snow boots, too, then got heating blankets from the closet. She wrapped one around each Lombax, setting them as high as they would go.

                "Th' gal's colda' than he is, so Ah'd betta warm 'er up first." She rubbed her arms through the blanket, trying to restore circulation. "Stupid femahle bodies...our arms always gettin' colder fas'er than them guys... Mm, that's better. Move ya arms lahke that som'more. That'll get 'em warm ag'in. Good gal." She stood and went to make some hot herbal tea in her kitchen. Living on her own for a year had taught her to provide for herself quite well. When she returned, the girl was sitting up alone, looking around, blinking and relishing the warmth, not yet concious enough to worry about her male friend yet. Her eyes widened when she saw Edwina.

                "Yah! Hey- what...who are you?" She narrowed her eyes, clutching the warm blanket closer to her shoulders. "Who are you, and why are we here? Hey, where...is here, anyway?" Her voice went from surprised and scared to threatening, and finally settling on a curious, wonder-filled tone. The house was not that impressive itself; it was small and cozy, with steely-grey carpet and walls that were painted a soft minty color. They were rich enough to be noticed, but not so bright as to be obnoxious.

                "Mah name's Ed. Weh-yall, actually, it's Edwina, but nobody calls me that. Ah found ya and yer boyfriend there," she grestured to Ratchet, who was stirring in the warmth and noise, "outside in th' cold. Y'all was like ta freeze ya tails right off'a yer backsides! What were y'all doin' out there at this hour anyways?"

                "We were looking for Clank. See, our ship crashed and we got sepparated. Have you seen him? He's a little robot about this tall, all silvery with some black parts."

                "Is 'e really cute? Ah worked on a cute li'l angel-bot a wahle back; he was with a Lombax who looked an awful lot lahke yer boyfriend oveh there."

                "Ratchet is not my boyfriend!" Vel laughed, waving a hand in front of her face.

                "Oh? 'Is name's Ratchet? That sounds right... Yup, Ah'm sure it was 'im who had th' li'l angel-bot."

                "Angel-bot?"

                "Yeah, the li'l guy was so cute 'e was jus' lahke a li'l angel, only 'e insisted 'e was a li'l robot! Ain't that th' cutest thing eva'?"

                "Mm...yeah...?"

                The kettle whistled. "'Ey, ya want some tea? It's fresh; picked it m'self this mornin'."

                "Um, sure." Vel sat in a chair with creamy uphostry and golden embroidery. It was the closest thing to her coat color, and her instincts were just about screaming for her to cammoflage herself in this unfamilliar environment until she was comfortable with it. Edwina came back with two china cups that steamed from the hot liquid inside them. A string hung over the side of each.

                "Sahrry it's a li'l ol'fashioned; mah mama use'ta make tea this way when Ah was a kid. We'd go out every mornin' an' pick tea leaves, then that night she'd put 'em in li'l cloth sacks an' boil 'em an' we'd have ourselves some fresh tea."

                "That makes sense. I mean, my mom was a doctor - well, she was training to be one - before she met my dad, but she used to bake us cookies like any other mom. It was pretty fun. Me and Ratchet and my brother's friends would all run home in the afternoons so we could have 'em fresh from the oven. But Ratchet's mom, mom two - we called each other's parents 'mom two' and 'dad two' because we were at each other's houses as much as our own - she used to make tea from the plants around the house and stuff."

                "Mmm... Ratchet's a jerk."

                "What?" Vel's ears flattened. She had begun to like the girl, until she had insulted her friend. Vel was pretty forgiving, until someone insulted her friends or family. Then she became very defensive.

                "Ah said, 'Ratchet's a jerk'. Ya got snow in yer ears or somethin'? He's a big, fat jerk. Ya shoulda seen how mean 'e was, being so nasty an' sarcastic ta me an' Clank!"

                Vel laughed slightly. "No, he's not a jerk," she said, sipping the tea and wincing when the hot liquid touched her lip. "He's got a weird sense of humor, and he's a little irresponsible and impulsive, but he's not mean or anything. It just takes a little while for you to get used to him, that's all." She lapped at the tea; her tongue was less sensitive to the heat. She blew on it and sipped it again.

                Edwina put her teacup down on the grey capet beside a bright purple-pink couch, then stretched out on it, lacing her fingers together and resting her head on them. She looked at Vel with interest; the girl had a good head and a kind heart, but her choice of boys was sorely backwards in her opinion. How could anyone with half a brain - or half an eye, for that matter - see anything in the shivering male still resting by the fire? He had not been in the best of moods when they'd first met, it was obvious, but she had still formed a decidedly negative opinion of him, something she rarely did on impulse. She mistrusted some from only her gut feelings, but very rarely did she outright dislike them. "Are ya sure yer not 'is girlfriend? Ah mean-"

                A sprewing fountain of tea cut her off. Vel looked at her, half-surprised, somewhat frightened, and very red under her fur. Normally, this would have gone unnoticed by another species, but the Hovanese were furry, too, and could read right through the mask of hair. She spluttered for a response. "What in the... How... Why on Veldin - or Hoven, as the case is - do you think that?"

                "Weh-yall," Ed replied, drawing the word out considerably and showing how thick her accent was, "whadda ya want me ta name first? There's only 'bout a million reasons!"

                "Huh?" Her ears stood up again, this time with intense curiosity.

                "First, there's th' fact that y'all were out in th' snow together. Even if y'all were lookin' fer Clank, it sure as beans didn't look lahke it! Y'all was curled up all cute 'n' cozy lahke a couple! An' then you go off an' go crazy if Ah say the least thing bad about 'im... C'mon, it'd take a fool ta not think that!"

                "Oh...I guess it is kinda funny, huh?" She slurped her tea, trying to fill the silence with something other than her voice, which was tight for reasons that escaped her. "But, hey, even...even if I did like him - which I don't - he'd never go for someone like me. He's probably looking for a normal girl who goes out to the mall with her friends and shops." She then muttered something that sounded like, "and not just for clothes, either", but it was low and indistinct.

                "Naw, 'e lahkes ya jus' as much as ya lahke 'im. Ah mean, ya weren't th' only one curled up back there, sweetie. 'E had 'is arms 'round ya pretty tight; I had trouble draggin' y'all outta the snow 'cause ah 'im. 'E might just've saved yer life, too. Y'all were pretty cold. Ah'm guessin' you woke up first 'cause 'e'd kept ya warm...but, don'tchya think 'e should'a woke up by now?"

                "Yeah... He definately should be awake by now."

                "Stupid males... Gals may git cold hands, but their core temps stay up. Them guys might not git frostbite lahke us, but they freeze faster. Seem lahke a fair trade ta ya?"

                "Fair or no, don't you think we oughta warm him up a bit more?" Vel didn't realize how wrongly that statement could be taken. She recieved a rather suggestive look from their hostess, to which she returned her out-put tongue. She squatted tentatively by the harth and laid her heating blanket over Ratchet, who was shivering. She looked at his feet, which were protruding from the warm cloth, and noticed the few ice crystals that still clung tenatiously to the fur. His hands - or rather, the gloves covering them - were wet from melted snow. They did not make a good pillow. She tugged the things off, cursing the fact that while Ratchet's hands were nearly double the size of her own, his wrists really weren't that much bigger, and the damp leather made it even harder to remove them.

                "'Ey, Ah jus' noticed: y'all got five fingahs. What's up with that?"

                "I dunno. But as far as I know, Lombax are the only race with five fingers. Everybody else has three."

                "Lahke me." Edwina waved a hand in front of her face. Vel swatted it.

                "Alright, Miss Three Fingers, what do we do?"

                "Nothin' much we can do. Stoke the fire, pile another blanket on... Ah'd suggest somethin' else, too, but you'd kill me fer it."

                "Try me. I'm not known for killing. Causing extreme discomfort, maybe, but not killing."

                "That's so comforting." Ed sobered up after a dirty glare from the slightly smaller girl. "Ah was gonna say ya ought'a sit up with 'im tonight an' hold 'im against ya so yer body heat'll keep 'im warm, but..."

                "'But' nothing. Ratchet sat up with me when I got sick - even though I don't think he touched me - and I'd be the jerk if I wouldn't do the same. And you can just think whatever you'd like about ulterior motives!" She half-snarled the last part, as if in preparation for a retort to a snide remark. None came; Edwina had gone to fetch more blankets. She pulled Ratchet against her side, laying his head on her shoulder and proping them up against the rough brick. The sharp corner cut into her back painfully, and she wrapped an arm around him to keep his back off the hard stone.

                "Here, wrap these around th' both o' ya; that'll do th' most good." Vel looked at the thick blankets. Were they really neccessary? Ratchet's chilly fingers pressed against her side as he moved, and that made up her mind for her. She took the blankets and wrapped them around them. Her own body was beginning to feel hot and sticky with sweat. The fire was really hot. "Ah'll close th' spark grill on th' fahre so y'all don't git fried ta a crisp tanight." That didn't help the heat, though. Vel opened her mouth a little, hoping the air on her tongue would cool her.

                "Do you think he'll be okay? We're not exactly built for cold weather, you know..."

                "'E'll be fahne, honny. Ah'll git a heat compress that ya can put under his feet, an' then Ah'm goin' ta bed." Ed pulled a small white package from her overalls and squeezed it. The thing was really for strained and pulled muscles or sprained joints, but it worked for just heating, too. She had even considered using it to cook at times, though it didn't get that hot. "G'night."

                "Mm-hm." Vel didn't much feel like being pleasant; she was too hot and uncomfortable to be polite. She shifted her weight multiple times, trying to find cool pockets of air in the blankets, but there were none to be found. She opened her mouth more, fully panting and wishing she'd asked for a glass of water. She pulled her arms from the tangled fabric and streched out her legs, pushing the blankets from her feet. 'Much better,' she thought. That was just about the last thing she thought, too, as she soon drifted off to sleep.

                Ratchet awoke in the middle of the night. The was barely enough light for him to see by; the fire had been reduced to smoldering embers by the time he had warmed up. He felt that he was propped against something, and that that something moved in a rhythm simular to breathing. He took a deep breath, surprised at the warmth of the air and the scent that hung in it. 'Vel? What...? Oh...that's right, we got caught out in that blizzard. I guess her snow cave idea really did work. It sure is warm...' His brain was half-fogged, and he did not realized that the blankets wrapped around him were not snow.

                "What time is it?" he muttered, trying to lift his wrist to look at it. "Wha..? This isn't snow! But then... What happened? Where am I? Hey, Vel, wake up!" He jabbed a finger in her ribs, which merely caused her to cringe and whine softly. She was not awake. "Hey, you silly girl, get up and tell me what happened while I was asleep!" His voice had become fairly loud, and her sleeping form shushed him, even clamped a hand over his mouth, before setting back down. He turned a bit red, though it could have been atributed to the red glow of the flames. He pried her hand off and tried again, this time only shaking her and not speaking at all.

                "Uh... W-what? What's a-matter? Whozat? Huh?" Her tired mumblings were rather funny. Not only were they nonsensical, but her sleep-thickened voice added to the humor. "What? Oh, Ratchet. You're awake now. That's good." She rubbed her eyes, removing sleep crust from her lashes, and blinked.

                "What happened? Why are we here in some house or another in a blanket pile?"

                "I dunno. I remember building the snow cave, and then I woke up here. This girl named Edwina said she found us. Is she the mechanic you were talking about?" He nodded, and she continued, "You were out cold, so we wrapped you up. She told me to stay in here and keep you warm..." Her voice trailed off slightly and she looked away, letting her ears drop with embarrassment.

                "Hey, it worked. But, I think I'd rather sleep on the couch. I mean, it'd look pretty wrong for me to be sleeping next to you!"

                "Yeah, it would, huh? You can take the couch over there, and I'll sleep in the chair. I don't think we'll have a blanket shortage. I mean, we must have a half dozen right here!" They rearranged themselves and went back to sleep.

                The morning found Edwina awakened by loud rumbling sounds at five. "What in th'...?" She sat up, looking for a screwdriver or hammer or something to hit the prowler with. Then, she began laughing, remembering that she had two Lombax in the other room. Apparently, one of them snored. 'Ah bet it's that Ratchet feller. Ah dunno how...how... Hey, I fergot ta ask 'er 'er name!' She got out of bed and threw on her work clothes. "Wonder what Lombax eat fer breakfast?"

                The two were sprawled out on their respective peices of furniture, one blanket draped over each of them and several others rolled into pillows. The girl was awake and lay with her arms folded behind her head, staring at the ceiling with a blank expression. When she heard Ed's footsteps - which sounded oddly heavy to someone as light of foot as her - she looked over. "Oh, goodmorning."

                "'Mornin' yerself. 'Ey, what's yer name, anyhow?"

                "Vel."

                "Funny name."

                "'Least it's not a guy's name, Ed!" They both laughed. There was nothing serious about their teasings. "What's for breakfast? I can cook a little, but I don't know if anyone else would ever eat it."

                "Weh-yall, if you can eat it..."

                "My stomach's practically made of iron. Except when it come to you-know-what."

                "Gal cramps?"

                "Yeah. They seem to have cleared up a bit since I got off Batalia and got a little more variety in my diet, but every once in a while... Ooo, not fun."

                "How 'bout eggs fer breakfast? Scrambled, fried, over easy, sunny-side up, how ya want 'em?"

                "Scrambled is fine."

                "Whadda 'bout Ratchet?"

                "I dunno. He'd probably it eat however you fixed 'em. But make double portions. If there's one thing I learned from running around with those guys, it's that men eat their weight in calories every day and -"

                "- They don't gain a pound. Yep. Ah'd love ta have a metabolism lahke that." Edwina had her own way of fixing eggs, too. Instead of just tapping the shells on the edge of the counter like most people, she liked to toss them into the air and whack them with one of the utensils like those master chefs on the Infobots. Of course, this ended with egg all over the kitchen as well as the frying pan, but it was certainly more fun!

                Ratchet moaned at the smell of frying eggs. His nose felt like it was stopped up with cotton balls, but he could smell the eggs. Oh, could he smell the eggs. And something like fried frog legs, only not. He tried to open his eyes, but the light hurt them and he rolled over, wincing and sheilding his eyes from the brightness. But the smell... Oh, it was a delicious, mouth-watering kind of smell, the kind that got you up just to see if you could have some. He tried to lick his lips, but his tongue was fat and dry and stuck to his mouth. He moved again, but forgot that he was on a couch, and fell off.

                "Ratchet! You dork, what'd you do that for? Are you okay?" Vel worridly knelt beside him, helping him into a sitting possition. "You alright?" He tried to speak, but was caught with a coughing fit, and had to settle for an unconvincing nod. He wiped his eyes; the tears brought on by the coughs had cleared away the sleep and the light did not burn so now.

                "What's that smell?" he asked, but his voice was a bare, rasping whisper. "Aw, shoot. Lost my voice. That's the last time I stay out in the snow late. My mom was right; you do get sick!"

                "Ed's cooking breakfast. It does smell good, huh? You should go back to sleep until it's ready."

                "'Ey, y'all, food's ready!"

                "Maybe I'll just go eat now." He smiled, trying to convince her that he was okay. His throat hurt when he talked, but it was nothing he hadn't lived through before. The food would help, and so would a day's rest. Even when the food was baccon-fried anklebiter and hen's eggs, and the rest would be gotten on a couch in a strage place, instead of his own bed and chicken soup.

                After breakfast, the three of them went to look for the ship. They had a general idea of where it was, but it took a bit of looking. Luckily, they had coats and snowshoes this time, so they were not freezing so bad. The ship was easy to find; Clank would take more effort. He was small and could be burried easily. He could have been walking around looking for them; the cold would not get to him like it did warmblooded animals. Though, for the moment, a pair of anklebiters seemed to have forgotten the cold in their enthusiasm to attack whatever it was that lay in the snow. They would growl and roar, then rush at it, then back away whining and pawing their drooling jaws in pain.

                "'Ey, whadd'er those boogers doin'? They dun' us'lly act lahke that! They look drunk's all git-out or somethin'!" They edged closer, feet squinch-squinching on the snow, various tools raised in defense. The anklebiters growled and looked at them. This was their find, and they were certain it contained meat of some sort, for there was a scent of warmth faintly clinging to it. If they could get the hard shell open, then it would be their feast, and no one else's. These newcomers, however, could become part of that feast; it was a sick anklebiter who wouldn't accept food.

                Suddenly, without warning, Ratchet charged at them, trying to yell and waving his wrench like a lunatic. Which, of course, wasn't to far from the truth, as anyone with laryngitis shouldn't even try to talk. His voice made a noise simmilar to a rasp on wood, followed by a coughing fit, but that didn't stop him; he just kept running, thinking in that male way that he could look impressive, even if he really looked just like a fool. The anklebiters split apart, trying to surround him. They had very strong pack instincts, and they were smarter than they looked.

                The resulting chaos would have been funny, if it had been fed, trained beasts instead of ravenous wild ones. The two white-furred brutes would circle their Lombax "prey", then rush in at the same time, growling and snarling for all they were worth. Ratchet would take a swing at one, and it would jump back, then the momentum would carry him around to the other and clip its jaw with the broad end of the OmniWrench. By this time, the first had gotten over its fear and would be near to biting him, only to have snow kicked in its eyes by its partner, who was howling in pain.

                After the momentary scuffle, which ended with Ratchet in another coughing fit and the anklebiters unconcious or dead - no one cared or bothered to check which - they looked to see what had interested the two beasts so much in the first place. To their surpise and delight, it was Clank, half-burried under the snow. His metal body did not seem damaged, but he was offline. Edwina picked him up, "aw"ing at his poor state. She craddled him like a child, though a rather cold one; metal becomes quite cold when left out in the snow all night. "We gotta git this li'l guy back up an' runnin' again. Th' ship can wait, can't it?"

                Ratchet was in no condition to argue. He just nodded dumbly and swayed loosely, feeling faint. He had to splay his feet out more to stay up. His eyes were glazed and heavy with illness; a Hovanese cold was nothing to sneeze at. They would have to stay long enough for the dents to be hammered out of his ship and for him to get well enough to fly it. Fortunately, with another mechanic, the two could be accomplished at the same time.

                The rest of the day was spent in Edwina's house with the Hovanese girl locked in her workshop and the two Lombax in the living room, squabling like children. "Ratchet! Come on, you gotta drink something. Even if it's not hot lemon juice, just drink some water, for cryin' out loud!"

                "I. Don't. Need. Any-" He stopped for a cough or ten. "Anything to drink. I'm fine. Just let me sleep."

                "You're not getting any sleep until you drink something." He gave her a dirty look, too tired and sore-throated to respond. He growled, or made a noise that came close for a sick Lombax, and took the hot drink from her hands, careful enough not to spill it, rough enough to seem angry. The taste wasn't all that bad, really. It was like lemonaide, but not so refined. More wild and natural. Not what he expected or was used to, but rather agreeable, like a little kid in mud. She sat down next to him, leaving plenty of room between them. She didn't want to catch whatever he had.

                Ratchet, however, was sure that whatever he had was not contageous, and felt that such distance was unnecessary. 'Wait a second... What do I care how far away she sits? I mean, it's not like she's my girlfriend or anything, so what does it matter?' He remembered how warm and comforting it had been when he had woken up the night before and found her there. He wished, in that strange, subconcious way, that he could go back to that moment and remain there. However, he would not admit this, even to himself. After all, they were just friends, and such moments were to be shared between couples, not the two of them.

                He yawned slightly, setting the now-empty cup down. It had not only soothed his throat, but his nerves, and he wanted sleep more than ever. He leaned against the back of the couch, knowing that when he woke up, he would have the world's worst crick in his neck, but not really caring at the moment. Sleep found him, and with it came relaxed muscles, including those that held him upright. He slipped and fell sideways, landing his head quite squarely in Vel's lap. If one did not know better, they would have said it was a planned move.

                "Hey, uh..." She looked at him, mouth open in sleep, gasping noisily for breath. That possition was not good for him. So, gently, she lifted his head and placed a pillow under it, only to find that she could not remove her hand after doing so - he would growl and move and threaten to wake up. "Um..." He shivered a bit. Against her better judgement, he had removed his cap and gloves, and the heat he lost was being sorely missed by his already overtaxed body. 'Even when things are peaceful, he never takes a break. He's always running around like a lunatic. One of these days, I swear, he's gonna kill himself.'

                Vel allowed him to rest there. The sleep was probably even better for him than the liquids. She stared at him, unable to avert her eyes, now that he was out and unable to scold her. She mentally traced the edges of his face: the tip of his nose, now pale and damp; the curl of his lips, revealing white teeth; the clean line of his jaw, only softened by fur; the lighter areas of his cheeks, barely noticable as having thinner fur in addition to the color chage; his closed eyes, hiding the bright green orbs behind their curtains that fluttered with dreams; his eyebrows, for once relaxed and not scowling or mocking or raised in playfulness; his long ears, fading from gold to cream, adorned with rich stripes; the stripes that ran along his head, normally hidden by his cap; and the silly tuft of tan fur, about the same color as her own hair, but shorter and mashed down. 'Ratchet's got hathair,' she smirked, tussling the hair back up.

                She sat there for a long time, perhaps three hours. Her mind was only partly there; the other half was somewhere in Ratchet's dreams. It was easy to get lost there; the boy had so many, and some were very large. She remembered when they were kids, listening to her father's stories of fighter pilots and pirates and aerial dogfights, then how they'd act out the stories again later with their own little twists. How they had often laid out on the rocks after collecting star bugs, comparing the insects with their twinkling celestial counterparts, and dreaming of visiting those places. 'Yes, those were the days,' Vel thought, absentmindedly fiddling with Ratchet's ears. They were soft and velvety to the touch.

                She was so preocupied that she did not hear the click of the door, or heavily padded footfalls, or even the movement of metalic gears. In fact, she was as close to sleep as any waking person could be; a bomb could be set off beside her and she would think nothing of it. Of course, voices are very different from bombs. "Gotchya!" Cli-hih-quihr! A camera shutter, probably at least a century old, closed noisily. She looked up at that instant, a flush spreading through her thin fur. "Sahrry, but Ah finished workin' on Clank an' when Ah saw y'all, Ah jus' had ta git a picture. Mah granpappy's ol'e camera still works jus' fahne."

                "Yeah, I noticed," she mused, still embarrassed.

                "Miss Edwina, I do not intend to be rude, but should you not be tending to the ship? After all, you did say that when you finished with me, you had to work on it."

                "Ah know Ah said that, but that was 'fore Ah saw these two lovebirds."

                "Lovebirds?" Vel cocked her eyebrow. Was that comment really neccessary? Sure, things looked pretty funny right now, but they'd looked funny before. 'Oh, forget it, girl. Face the music. You've fallen for your best friend...and he's fallen sick. You have to tell him.'

                'Don't be silly, me. A cold never kills anybody these days. Maybe eons and eons ago, when there wasn't any medicine around, but these days it'd take a whole lot more than a cough and a few chills to kill a Lombax.'

                "'Ello, Hoven ta Vel! 'Ey, ya in there?"

                "Huh? What?"

                "You were 'zoned out', as Ratchet likes to say. 'Completely spacey'."

                "Yeah, you was off in la-la-land! Whatch'ya thinkin' 'bout? Names for kids?"

                "No, no, nothing like that. Just...random stuff, I guess. Girl stuff."

                "Oh, Ah see. 'Gal stuff'. Clank, you better scoot along, 'else Vel here might neva' tell me what's wrong."

                "But why should my presence hinder her speech?"

                Edwina sighed and tried to explain about how some problems could only be solved woman-to-woman, and that males, robotic or organic, just could not help in those situations. This was one of them. He appologized for not knowing this and quickly left, but stayed in the hall to easedrop. After all, she had only said that he couldn't be in the room, not that he couldn't listen. "So, now that we've got that cleared up, what's on yer mind?"

                "It's nothing, really. Well, it's just...it's just that we've been friends for so long, and..."

                "An' now ya finally admit ya lahke 'im! Way ta go!"

                "Please, not so loud." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "You'll wake Ratchet." She nervously scratched behind his ears, trying to calm herself. If he woke up, he'd probably chew her out, just out of sickly grumpiness.

                "Don't git so all-fired an' worked up fer nothin'. 'E's out lahke a light; ain't nothin' short o' a nuke gonna wake 'im, an' Ah have mah doubts 'bout th' nuke!" She extrended her hand to give a reassuring pat, but finding Vel's lap full and her hands busy, had to lean forward to place it on her shoulder. "Besides," she whispered, "'e's probably not really sleepin'!"

                "What?"

                "Ah've known plenty o' people who'd play 'possum fer hours on end. Ah used ta do it m'self when Ah was a kid ta try an' git outta goin' ta school. But, ya know, if 'e's not really out, then 'e's heard everything we've said, an' ya know what that'll mean!" Vel's eyes went wide, then she managed to calm herself with logical reasoning: he couldn't be faking; his beathing was far too deep and relaxed. She leaned against the couch, sighed, and shook her head slowly. Her hands moved in an automatic petting motion.

                "You wanna know something dumb I just remembered from when we were kids?" she said after some minutes. Ed looked interested, but didn't say anything. "He's extremely ticklish right there. No where else; just at the tip of that third stripe. I used to catch him off guard during wrestling matches and send him rolling over just by jabbing my thumbs in his ribs there." She smirked and made an amused snort. "I don't know why I suddenly remembered that."

                "Ah dunno either," she shrugged. "But, what Ah wanna know is, what'chya gonna do 'bout 'im now? Ah mean, if ya lahke 'im as more than jus' a friend, then it's bound ta git out soona' or lata', an' th' last thing ya want is fer 'im ta go off with some other gal 'fore it happens!"

                "But...but he just thinks of me as the goofy, sweaty girl he used to play with. He couldn't really feel anything beyond that, right?"

                "Vel, would ya stop an' look at yerselves fer a second? He is sleeping in your lap! Ah've had plenty o' boyfriends an' didn't none of 'em eva' git that friendly."

                "Yeah, but we used to curl up together out on the rocks and take naps when we were really little. It's not that different. Besides, he's sick. Sick guys are all messed up in their heads anyways. Have you ever been in the same room as one of your boyfriends when he was sick?"

                "Actually, no, Ah haven't."

                "There you go."

                "An' there you go denyin' it again! Would ya jus' quit makin' e'scuses an' admit full-well that yer head-ova'-heels fer th' guy?" Vel's face felt hot. She cursed the thinness of her fur, and the lighter, even thinner areas along her cheeks that were actually designed to show blushing. Edwina could have seen it even if they had been thicker than normal; Hovanese fur was some of the thickest in the galaxy, but their own people could still see when someone flushed. She wished her ears would fall in front of her shamefully red face and cover it, but they were set too far back for such mercies.

                "What do I do?" she whispered.

                "That's betta'. Ah say ya ought'a jus' tell 'im right-straight out, but from what Ah've seen of ya, ya'd nevah do that. So, Ah dunno. Can ya at least flirt?"

                "No."

                "How can ya be howeva' old y'all are - almost grown! - an' not know how ta flirt?"

                "I just don't. I grew up in the barracks, so I never really had a reason to practice. The closest I came to 'flirting' was walking on my hands and catching some scrap of food that was thrown to me. Does that count?"

                "Nope."

                At just that moment, however, Clank lost his ballance and fell to the ground in the doorway. He got up, appologising profusely. "I am terribly sorry for butting in on your 'female conversation', but I could not help overhearing your plight. Vel, I did not know you felt that way. When I made fun of Ratchet, it was simply to be 'cool'. I did not know that I was correct!"

                "What?!" Both girls gave him strange looks that begged an explaination.

                "You see... Well, this is awkward. I am not used to being at a loss for words. But, you do understand, right?"

                "Er, yeah..." There were several moments of silence. Edwina broke it. "Ah think Ah'll go git ta workin' on th' ship now. We'll talk more latah, right, Vel?" She slumped against the couch and covered her eyes with her free hand, signaling that the conversation was officially over and that any further attempts would only agrivate her. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, and Ed left the traveling trio alone. The ship was a good excuse.

                Clank was confused. He had seen moments when Ratchet had been upset or angry, and knew to leave him alone, but females were supposed to be different. However, her body language was simular: drooping ears, averted eyes, and any available body parts - shoulders, arms, tail, etc. - forming a veritable wall between herself and anyone else. Females certainly were confusing!

                One hour passed, and then another. Ratchet moved, turning to where Vel could draw her hand out without complaints. However, she still could not get up, and it was becoming rather uncomfortable. Her lap was sweaty above and cramping below; Lombaxian bodies were not meant to hold still for hours on end. She dropped her arms and let her tail flop to the side, hanging over the arm of the couch. Maybe, just maybe, if she could fall asleep...

                The rest of the day passed in the same way, as did the next. Well, actually, the two Lombax avoided one another quite well; Clank had been a little less than forgiving with Ratchet when he was unable to yell insults. But, except for that fact, the next two days were the same. Ratchet's voice halfway came back on the third - enough to where he could be heard across the room without hurting himself - and Ed anounced that she had finnished hammering out the dints. Luckily, there had been no dammage to the engine or controls that required a part to be replaced; everything could be hammered out and welded back into place.

                "Well, thanks, but we gotta get to Kerwan to find Mei. How much?" Ratchet dug around in his pockets for the required bolts, then had to have Clank access the stash in his chest cavity, because his pockets, though numerous and large as they were, just could not hold that many. "Man, what a rip."

                "Whadd'ya say, bub?"

                "I said you're makin' a whole lotta money off of this one lousy job!"

                "Hey, Ah had ta put up with the two o' y'all - not Clank; 'e's cool - an' feed y'all an' all that, too! Ah think Ah deserve ta charge a li'l extra!" Ratchet stormed off and began fiddling with the ship, trying to start it before remembering that only Clank could do that. The tiny bot appollogised for his friend's behavior and went to start the ship before he tore it apart trying to hotwire it. Vel nodded and thanked her for her help, both with the ship and her own personal problems. Things were back on track.

                The trip to Kerwan was a quiet one. Vel spent most of the time in the back, half-asleep; the feeling of riding in a spaceship with artificial gravity - the generator hummed nicely - was now familliar and made her sleepy. Ratchet kept his eyes straight ahead, not daring to look at Clank, who seemed to enjoy humming the bridal march now. But, it was hard for a loquatious Lombax like himself to keep quiet for long; he needed something to do besides pilot the ship - he could do that in his sleep. He grinned to himself, then burst out with, "Here comes the bride, big, fat, and wide! There stands the groom, skinny as a broom!"

                "What?!"

                "You never heard that before or something? Or you just got mush between your gears now?"

                "I have never heard such a disgraceful malaignment of a song before!"

                "Oh, puh-lease, every kid back on Veldin knows that one. I'd bet every kid in the galaxy knows it, even! How could you not know it?"

                "It just seems strange to me...that is all. I find it rather amusing, actually."

                "What?" Now it was Rathet's turn to be confused. Of course, he should have seen it comming a mile away.

                "Why, the fact that you would refer to Vel as 'big, fat, and wide', when she is skinnier than you!"

                He though for a moment. What did that little... "CLANK! That's it, I'm sick of this. Get outta here. Go bother Vel or something...I don't care what. Just leave me alone." Clank left obediently; he did not like being yelled at. He stared out moodily at the vast space. Even it seemed to mock him. The way the stars' possitions changed as he flew by. The double stars, their circling enhanced by his own movement, seemed to dance with one another, teasing of his own dancing. "Stupid outer space. Stupid Clank. Stupid Vel. Stupid everything!" He switched to autopilot and put his legs up, growling and crossing his arms to sleep.

                The blare of the autopilot's mechanized voice saying, "Nearing atmospheric reentry. Please resume manual control," woke everyone. Well, truthfully, Clank was not awoken, as he was not in regenerative mode, but he was disturbed from his thoughts. The two Lombax, however, were thoroughly annoyed with the ship. Ratchet smacked the switch off and grabbed the controls, still half-asleep.

                Mei was not that hard to find. It was early morning, and a few of the citizens were out talking about her. How well she sang, how pretty she was, etc. Vel was rather insulted that they said she looked nothing like her; she took it to mean she was not pretty enough to be related to her sister. She was even more annoyed that neither of the boys - not even Clank - would stick up for her. But, they did find out where she lived, which happened to be in the lowest part of the city, far below the layer of clouds that obscured the bases of the buildings.

                The ground level was dirty, dingy, smoggy and smelly; it was a cross between a bar and a trash heap. Things sometimes fell out of upper windows; there were lines designating common 'fall spots'. Ratchet and Vel both picked their way carefully, trying to avoid stepping on half-rotten food or broken glass, but it was hard. A few metal covers provided places that were cleaner and easier to walk through. It was a sad state of affairs.

                Vel knocked on the door they had been told belonged to Mei, and a sliding panel was opened in it. A pair of bright eyes, bluer than Vel's sea-green ones, looked through it. "Yes?" Her voice was tired and quiet, as if she were afraid.

                "Mei? Do you recognise me?"

                "Uh-mm," she replied, her eyes shifting. "Vel?"

                "Yeah. That's me. Can I come in?" The panel closed and the door opened. Mei's red hair stuck up in a frizzy way, loose strands flying in all directions. Her ears were flattened down so that they hung almost to the end of her frazled hair. She fiddled with a string on the sleive of her orchid-colored nightgown and motioned them inside. She was not hyper and happy as she had been on Veldin; she was too tired to even hug her sister or ask about her companions. She locked the door tightly behind them.

                "It may be just eight in the morning to you guys, but I just got in from work an hour ago. I'm tired, and I'm going back to bed. Make yourselves at home." She may have only been twenty-five, but she had the manners of a tired old woman. Her feet dragged, her coat was dull even though it was clean. Vel felt sorry for her; the baracks of Batalia had been harsh, but they had not been sending her to an early grave.

                The apartment was small. As they entered, there was a kitchen with an old refridgerator to their left and a bathroom to their right. Next came the living room with a couch that was worn out and had been reupholstered, but the new upholstry was broken and showed the old. A stack of pillows and blankets lay in a corner near a pile of books; one was opened face-down to keep its place. An InfoBot, rusty and needing polish, rested across from the couch. The door to her bedroom was shut, but inside was a simular situation. The 'bed' was really nothing more than a home-made job of old two-by-fours and some plywood with more of the pillows and blankets piled on it.

                They spent the day in almost absolute silence, so as not to wake Mei. Vel found a radio and set it to its lowest volume, so low that she had to put her ear right over the speaker to hear it, then she curled up on the pile of blankets and picked up one of the less-worn and more-interesting-looking books. Ratchet alternated between napping on the couch, fiddling with the InfoBot - which didn't have good reception - and pacing nervously to the kitchen for a snack. The smog had caused a relapse in his cold and his nose was runny, which made him miserable. Clank found a recharge port and connected himself to it, hoping that there were no computer viruses in the thing.

                Around seven that evening, Mei woke up. She poked her head out of her bedroom door and said in a perky voice, "I gotta get ready for work. If you guys want to, you can come to work with me. You might enjoy it!" She grinned and shut the door. Everyone looked at each other.

                "How could comming to her work be fun?"

                Vel shrugged a reply; she was too engrossed in the book to care much. It was a strange book, more like a long comic strip. Everything was told in panels, but there was a very deep, involving plot. Even stranger, though, was the fact that it was written backwards, with the first event on the right side of the page and the last on the left! Her tail flicked from one side to the other, sometimes in rythm to the music on the radio, sometimes of its own tempo. She was surprised the book was not written with strange characters, though they probably would have been strangely beautiful, like the artwork. The characters all had disproportionately large eyes and belonged to the 'human' race, which she had never heard of. They had five fingers like a Lombax, but other than that she found nothing in common with them.

                It took Mei a full hour to get ready, and by this time Vel had finnished her backwards-comic-book-with-a-plot, and Ratchet had made three more trips to the refridgerator. Clank unplugged himself and ran every antivirus program he had available. Luckily, there was nothing. However, when Mei walked out of her room, everyone stared at her. She was wearing a small navy body suit with furry cream trim and a leather collar around her neck with two thin straps connecting it to the leotard. "Mei! Where do you work? At a strip club!?!?"

                "What? No, silly little sister, I work at a karaoke club. I sing when no one else will go on stage. It doesn't pay much, but the boss gave me this apartment as a bonus. It beat living with dad's old friends. They're nice and all, but I like my privacy. Come on, I can get you in for free. Maybe you guys could even sing!"

                The club was noisy. If it wasn't an out-of-tune drunk wailing a bad song, it was an out-of-his-mind drunk starting a fight with a guy ten times his size. And smelly! Even the rotting garbage on the street did not smell quite so horrid as the hundred or so sweaty bodies pressed together, foul, alcohol-laced breaths making it hard to even so much as draw in air. Vel managed to somehow work her way to a ladder and climb it to sit in the rafters, where the air was marginally cleaner and her personal space was not being invaded at every oportunity, but Ratchet and Clank were left to suffer.

                Mei was a very good singer, but her dancing left something to be desired. It was too stilted to be graceful, too provocative to be emotional. She might could have hit every note perfectly, but her performance would have been improved if she had chosen a slower song and simply stood still, showcasing her voice instead of her body. Ratchet could neither sing nor dance, and Clank was too shy to get up on stage. Vel chose to sit in the rafters and watch, for once not part of the action and not wishing to be so. The people were funny, but they would have been funnier if her nose and eyes had not burned with smoke and her ears had not rung with noise. She was used to clean environments where noise was intermitent and could be avoided by going to one's room.

                The night wore on, into the wee hours of the morning. The drunken revellers slowly trickled out, until most of those who were left were passed out over the bar, face down in a glass. Vel left her safe perch and Mei came out, pulling her long coat over her work uniform. Clank came up to them. "Have either of you seen Ratchet? He has been missing for some hours. At first I merely assumed I had lost him in the crowd, but now I am not so sure. Perhaps he has stepped outside?"

                Ratchet, however, was not outside. His OmniWrench lay on the ground, a peice of paper tied to the handle. Vel picked it up and read it. Her knuckles went white and her face paled under her fur. Her breath caught in her throat, and for once she had forgotten the awful smell of trash. "Vel? Hey, sis, you okay?"

                "Captain Qwark has Ratchet. He says we have to stop trying to prove dad was framed or... I...I don't know what to do... How... We have to..."

                "We have to find Reilly, and then we have to rescuse him. But, I forgot where dad dropped Reilly off at. It was so long ago."

                "Miss Mei, I beleive it was on Rilgar. Am I correct?"

                "Hey, yeah, that's right! Okay, so we'll fly to Rilgar and get Reilly, and then we'll go to Umbris and fight Qwark! It'll be just like a movie!"

                Reilly was not easy to convince, but with a bit of urging from Cresh and pleading from his younger sister, he came. He was reluctant to leave the gang, as he was one of the better guards, but for a chance at clearing his family and getting revenge, he came. Cresh even offered to send some of his other men, but they refused. Reilly thought it would be foolish, as they could be attacked at any time by the more violent members of the underground, and Vel explained that this was more of a family matter.

                "Eh, I see. Well, I wish you ell leck in your endevors." He looked at Vel, who turned aside. "Even those thet would teke e pretty girl sech es yourself off the merket." She blushed and growled; she did not like strangers talking so highly of her. She had never even thought of herself as 'pretty': she had a light, athletic build, not her sister's more full and feminine one. Her jaws were thinner, though they probably packed more power. She was lively and loud when she was not observing the action; she did not act like the 'blond bimbo' of her rust-haired, airheaded sister in a miniskirt and short, low shirt with a short, low jacket over it, nor the quiet ornamentary girl that bodybuilders liked. She had too much personality for guys to like her in that way.

                Umbris may have been far away from Rilgar, but they got there in record time. Almost instantly, Vel was out of the ship, Blaster cocked and loaded and OmniWrench stuck through her belt. She was a fighter, and she was ready.

                The guards at the front door of the large compound were easily dispatched. Clank remarked that this was very different from the time that they had first faced Qwark and his Snagglebeast: it was a more heavily guarded building, and not an obstacle course made to look like a warzone. Everything inside was dark, with bare bulbs hanging from their shorting wires every little while. The Lombax had no trouble, but he was at a severe disadvantage. He might have been able to switch to infrared or ulvraviolet input, but this only helped with warm bodies, of which he only found three. It was very cold, so warm things stood out well, but there were only the three Lombax. In addition, he was a good deal slower, and so had to be carried, as no one had a harness attatchment.

                The entire place was a maze. Not only were the tunnels twisting to the left and right, but there were ladders as well, and the tunnels often ran at odd slants. They tilted forward and back like hills, and side to side. Sometimes, from the different tilts and angles, it felt like they were running in circles. It was very dissorienting, and the stone tunnels seemed to stretch on forever. They went on, and on, and on...and on...

                Until the rough stone turned smooth and the gentle incline became a steep slope, greased with oil that ran from weepholes. Even with feet that were designed to climb and run along the tiny ledges of sheer cliffs, they soon lost their footing and went sliding down on their tails - some quite litterally on the appendage! The oily slope dumped them in a large, oily area. It was difficult to stand, and more difficult to see; there was no light.

                Suddenly, stadium floodlights lit up around the top of the room. The Lombax sheilded their eyes and squinted, blinking and trying to convince their pupils to contract and shut out the blinding light. The room was large enough to play two separate games of tailball at once, were it not for the many stalagtites which jutted up from the floor. A thick membrane, reminecent of the ones around medicinal softgels, covered everything, including a layer of oil. In addition, the top of the membrane had been greased with the substance, which was not motor oil but the oils of nuts and seeds, as the smell told. This, along with the inner layer of oil that was constantly moving adjitatedly, made it almost impossible to stand. The membrane was tough enough to withstand their claws, but too slick to grip.

                "G-good e-evening, l-ladies and ge-gent-tlemen," a small voice squeaked over a loudspeaker. "W-we're here l-live now, in C-captain Qwark's s-s-s-secret h-hideout, wh-where th-th-three furry v-v-villans and a-a robot have j-j-just ar-r-rived. L-l-let's s-seee how th-th-the Cap-ptain h-h-h-handles th-them." A spotlight - though it was unneccessary - swung up to a high ledge where an armored, armed hovercraft and Qwark - who sported a bandeged hand - perched preditorially.

                "Now I know how those fish felt when I stared down at them," Vel whispered, forcing herself to her knees and growling.

                "Qwark! You coward! You framed our father! Come down here and fight, mano a mano!" Reilly fired his Devastator, and the sickly-green 'super hero' barely had time to make in inside his pod. It didn't even make a scratch. Fire was returned, though this too had no effect on the surrounding terrain; the membrane was still in tact. The fight had begun.

                It was difficult for the Lombax to move, especially Mei. She would not fight - she had no weapons - so she held Clank, who would have had an even harder time ballancing. She ducked behind a rock formation and vowed to keep it between them and the battle, cursing the stain the oil was making on her clothes. Vel found that if she kicked off a stone fountain and slid, she became almost untouchable in speed. She had to rotate on her hip to put her feet first to the next one, though, and so she did not fire many shots. Even so, most hit their target, though they did little damage, and she was soon clicking empty.

                It all came down to Reilly. One angry young man seeking revenge. His anger boiled and it intensified his concentration instead of blurring it. He fired again and again, each missile in the same place as the last. Soon the hull cracked and burst, sending Qwark into the arena on his back. Reilly stood over him, once foot against his throat, one last missile trained on his head. "Now, admit what you did nine years ago! On Veldin. What did you say, what lies did you tell? What did you do to my FATHER!?"

                "I-I-I-I- Young man, I, heh-heh, I did nothing!" He pressed harder, shifting more weight to his foot on Qwark's neck, cutting off air.

                "I have one last shot. The explosion might kill me too, but at least my family will be avenged. If you don't confess, you will die."

                The threat hung in the air, the air that Qwark was being denied by an oversized hairball. He gasped and choked and writhed, rasping out what he had done years ago. How he had conspired with the Blarg, how Ace had found out and threatened to expose him. All those years of lying, of hiding the truth, were undone in a few moments on live intergalactic InfoVision. As soon as he was finished, Reilly clobbered him with the end of the gun, knocking him unconcious. A door slid open, revealing a line of cages that streched on into the darkness.

                Not far into the laberynth, the path split up into three ways; the fourth they had come from. Vel sniffed the air, but she was too close to crying to determine anything. Reilly sniffed, too; Mei was too stuck-up to admit to using such primative methods. "Which way?"

                "I dunno,"he said, but his voice was funny, almost mischevious. "Vel, you go that way. Mei and Clank, take that tunnel. I'll check this one. That way, we're bound to find your little boyfriend." Vel ran off too fast for him to catch how ebarrassed she was.

                "Reilly, what was that all about?"

                "Yes, I am most intrigued by your behavior, Mr. Reilly."

                "I arranged so she'd be the one to find him, is all. I may hate Ratchet for being better than me at just about everything, but I want to see my sister happy, too." He smiled. "We'll follow her at a distance. I'd like to see how this turns out."

                Vel ran into the darkness, not bothering to care about the lack of light. Her face burned more than her lungs and heart and leg muscles combined; her brother did not know what he had just said. She did not think of what she would say - they had been in the middle of a silent arguement when they had been separated - nor did she want to. She only thought of finding Ratchet. She ran on, fast enough to cover ground, slow enough to check each cage.

                She stopped, suddenly, and peered into a cage on her left. There! She smashed the lock with the OmniWrench and flung open the door, pouncing on Ratchet with more joy than when he'd first found her. "Ratchet! Oh, Ratchet, you're alive!"

                For a brief moment, he struggled, not knowing who it was. "Vel? Why wouldn't I be alive?"

                "I...I just..." She broke down, sobbing into his shoulder.

                "What? Hey, hey, shh." His voice was scratching and breaking with emotion. "You're gonna get me started!"

                She smiled and chuckled in her throat. "I'm just so glad to see you!" She wiped her eyes and pulled him closer, nuzzling his cheek with hers. "I thought I'd lost you. I don't what I'd do if that ever happened. I...I... Ratchet, I..."

                "You what? Vel..."

                "I, um..." She looked at him, bright red under her fur. Rather attractive, really, and the thin fur showed it well. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that you're alive and you're here."

                Things were sorted out quickly after that. The Elders appologized and reaccepted the family; they even managed to get their old house back for them. Mei found her own home and went to college to take up medicine where her mom had left off. Reilly found a place, too, and opened an orphanage. He especially enjoyed the company of one of the sixteen-year-old girls; Vel bet that they'd end up together one day when she grew up. There was only four years between them, whereas their parents were five years apart.

                And as for Vel herself? Well, she was up on a high cliff with Ratchet, sitting and watching the sunrise. She flicked her tail, catching his. The pastel glow of the sun danced across their fur and shimmered in their eyes. He looked at her and cocked his head. "What were you going to say, back on Umbris?"

                "Hm? Oh, it was nothing."

                "Vel, anything you say means something to me." She looked at him, startled; they were both taken aback by how he sounded.

                "Well, I...I wanted to say...that..." He tipped his head more, interested. She lifted her hand to her mouth, nervously. He took it, clasping it softly between his own. It was akin to a tiger holding a lilly. She put her arms around him, pulling him closer. Ratchet blushed. "I love you," she whispered.

                The boy was speechless. He held her against him with one arm and cupped her chin with the other. Their noses touched, and then...the cliff gave way, and they went tumbling down its sunny side, half-laughing, half-screaming.

                When they stopped, they were giddy and silly. "You goofy fuzzball! You did that on purpose!"

                "Hey! I did not!"

                "Okay, then, what were you trying to do?"

                "This." He pulled her against him in a tender kiss. It only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. "I love you too, Vel." She curled up to him, happy. He slipped his tail around her thin waist. She didn't mind. She was happy to be there with him, bathed in the golden light of the sun. It was a little slice of heaven.

THE END!