Disclaimer: The characters, locations, and everything else borrowed from the Ratchet & Clank games are copyright of Insomniac Games. None of these aforementioned things are any of my original ideas, so no copyright infringement intended. However, the original characters and plot are mine, and are not to be used without my permission.
Author's Notes: This fiction is not exactly a novel that ends (for the time being, anyway), but more along the lines of a prologue of other stories to come and fill in the gaps. This here serves more of a back story to set the mood, the topic, and the main characters that will be featured heavily in future works related to this one. My goal is to create something that would be like a new Ratchet & Clank 4 game. In other words, I want to make a story that could be considered epic. In my attempt to accomplish this, I hope you enjoy this first story of mine and the inclination of my experimental idea, because I promise you the subsequent chapters and future short stories will be action-packed and worthwhile to read. And, as always, reviews, compliments, and constructive criticism are very much appreciated. But let it be known right off the bat . . . I write this story for me--not for the fans of the games.
A NEW BEGINNING
Chapter One
"The Beginning: Of Good Times and Bad"
Written by Black Rosettes
23:34 - Planet Todano, Megacorp Armory, Bogon Galaxy
Among the shrouds of darkness, a sly shadow, with a physique between medium and thick, garbed in light clothing and a mask, swiftly crept among the thickets and trees like an apparition. The only signs of the figure's presence was the sight of swaying blades of grass on which he walked that sometimes could be heard, but faintly, as the masked unknown slunk with an expert, if not almost perfectly maneuverable style. Only the dim glow of the pale moon high above shone which direction the person was going.
The mysterious figure finally made it to his destination after effortlessly shaping his invisible path behind him to the armored door which belonged to one of Megacorp's profoundly massive and prestigious armories. It seemed this person was a kind of thief, and one who wasn't about to let his endeavor go unrewarded.
Motioning mindfully toward a street lamp that hummed and projected a circular glow on the concrete surface, the thief placed his back against a far side wall, waiting for two of the unsuspecting guards to lure themselves into his trap.
"Did you hear, Ronald? That new prototype will be distributed from Megacorp factories in a few days," mentioned a guard to his partner.
"Yeah, I just heard that earlier today. I could definitely use it in my house! Of all the things this company comes up with..." said the other, twirling his truncheon in an absent-minded manner.
The two reptilian guards drew closer to the thief's location, but the figure remained docile in the blanket of his darkness. Feeling a sort of pebble beneath his boot, he reached down and acquired it in one silent, smooth motion, without removing his eyes from the guards. And with rock in partially gloved hand, where the fingertips were cut off, he pinched it in between his thumb and middle finger as if to discard it with a flick. That was exactly what he did--toward a security camera that swiveled slowly, only taking in the first few feet around the steel doors. A card reader could be seen somewhat embedded into the rock structure of the building near the entrance.
The guards' idle conversation stopped abruptly at the unexpected sound of something clanking against the camera in front of them.
"Did you hear that?" said one of them.
Together, they moved cautiously toward it, inspecting the area around the entrance with their clubs ready.
"Yeah, it sounded like something struck the camera,"--one guessed--"and look there. A small rock. Hm. That's so weird."
The security guards in black uniform stopped a few feet away from the door. One of them reached down and cupped the rock in his scaly hand, opening it again to show his friend. With their attentions on the rock and, rather conveniently the camera lens having turned away from them, the guest made his dramatic appearance behind them with two hands already outstretched. With a successful grasp the two heads were forcibly pushed together, instantly rendering both unconscious, and then their bodies were dragged away and out of sight of the camera as it returned to the center of the entrance pathway.
The camera had captured nothing out of the ordinary save for two guards who must have walked out of view within several seconds.
The thief hid the bodies behind a thick bush, stripping one of them of their uniform, and then placing the nearest foliage over their bodies to conceal them from the moonlight. He quickly pulled on the guard's uniform, removed his makeshift mask, pulled on a cap and armed himself with the same nightstick. Now the intruder looked like one of the faithful employees of Megacorp. Removing a key card clipped on the chest pocket of his new outfit, he held it low at his side and stepped into the viewpoint of the camera, swiping the card in one fluid motion.
The card reader chimed and the double steel reinforced door began to pull itself open, revealing a vivid beam of yellowish light. It seemed the more the door open, the more the light encompassed the scene, including the villain whose silhouette had already begun to fade out as he stepped forth and entered one of the most renowned armories this side of the Bogon galaxy.
10:53 - Planet Yeedil, Megacorp HQ, Bogon Galaxy
The following morning was when the ever famous founder of Megacorp, Abercrombie Fizzwidget, learned of the atrocious burglary, and by whom only having pilfered some of the latest gadgets and weaponry. He was taken aback by the news. It was more devastating than the time he was prisoner in one of his company closets. Nevertheless, the old thought made the old man cringe a little at the sudden reminiscence.
He sat behind his oversized desk that was lightly decorated with the simplest of office things: a desktop computer; a florescent lamp; a miniature monitor accompanied by its sleek base; paperweight, and an all-in-one printer. File cabinets had been placed at arm's length on both sides of him for easy access and, by his right side, sat a quiet and small refrigerator. Behind him and his luxurious leather chair was an impressive rectangular picturesque window, suited with automatic blinds of equal size, which gave him a beautiful vantage point of the happenings outside of the towering skyscraper. Sitting by the door of his office was a large and rather aesthetic plant that could be easily admired, and beside it some foot away was a small receptacle.
In one hand he held his mug of coffee and in the other a donut. Eating sweets and drinking a warm drink was always the thing to settle his mind. On his computer screen, where his eyes were fixed, a security video replayed the events of the night before. He found it hard to believe that there was nothing out of the ordinary, no sign of a struggle. There was, however, one particular thing on the video that captured a sudden disappearance of two guards, having been replaced with a person whose face could not been seen clearly, for a guard's cap concealed everything but the individual's mouth. What was more of a mystery was that the guard's tail was absent. What kind of person was this? There were other video feeds to be seen.
After reviewing the first video file sent all the way from Todano, he placed his drink down, finished his donut with a final bite, and then rose slowly from his chair. Opening a drawer in his desk, he reached in and removed a binder. He scanned over the documents inside, gave a content nod, and then sealed the files away as he shifted from behind his desk. He then reached for his office phone, pressed a button, and waited for an answer.
A feminine voice answered. "Yes, Mr. Fizzwidget? May I help you?"
The old man cleared his throat, "Ms. Noodlebottom, are we on schedule as planned for the upcoming prototype?"
"On schedule, sir."
"Stupendous! Keep me posted, young lady. Amercrombie, out."
He placed the phone back on its holder, and then made his way toward his office door. He had someone he wanted to have a word with, because there were two big things that were to happen to the company really soon--new inventions that would put the corporation further up the top of the line when it came to household appliances and personal security. Megacorp, after all, was all about being creative with the things already available in everyday life.
Down in the genetics department of Megacorp HQ, particularly in the area where the recently redesigned Protopet was being created, one talented geneticist was already hard at work, pushing herself to the limits to keep ahead of the competition. Angela Cross. As the leading geneticist and one of the original proponents of the company, she had been charged with the development of the newest biological project. The project was supposed to be something similar to the first protopet, but even better and more efficient in every way. It was unclear whether or not this new pet would be sold to complement the original one.
A team of fellow researchers were walking aimlessly around the large laboratory with clipboards in hand. Dressed in long, flowing white lab coats and sometimes wearing safety goggles, they examined the various creatures kept in water tanks and capsules. The only other person who never really moved around as much as them was Cross. She preferred to keep her mind on one thing at a time, and recording everything on her portable computer. Just as always, she stood slouched over a microscope, with her elbows propped atop the station table. Her laptop beside her had been left alone for so long that it fell asleep, sometimes even waking itself up to play a screen saver.
Engrossed in what she was studying from the lens of the microscope, she would on occasion shift weight on one leg to the other, almost unconsciously, and use her fingers to turn the dials on the scope for magnification. What she saw was promising because she finally moved from the microscope to record her findings on her laptop, bringing it back to a spreadsheet littered with all kinds of complex mathematic algorithms and scientific expressions.
"Yes, yes!" she said. "Prototype-X is coming along rather nicely."
While typing in her statistics from memory, a researcher called out to her. The sound of his footsteps gathered in her ears, and they were just one of many things that were the normal sounds in the lab.
"Dr. Cross, we're ready to test out the first phase of the Prototype-X creature. Let's see how the mutant strain reacts to environmental change and personal contact. This should be most fascinating!" the researcher beamed, folding his arms and awaiting the project lead to turn around.
Cross simply threw her head back to reposition her ponytail.
She finished her business on the computer and turned sharply on a heel. "All right, let's see what this creature can do."
Together, they walked over to one glass window that was considerably wide and beyond which lied a testing room with two researchers already inside; and between them was the new experiment. Angela brought up both of her gloved hands, turned them into fist as the anticipation of success in her mind grew. Her jade eyes naturally fell on the way the creature looked, behaved.
The creature was aptly named Prototype-X, because it was the second creature that showed some promise in its design. Its name, however, would be changed before shipment. Unlike its cute and furry predecessor, this new experiment boasted a more flamboyant coat of fuzz, had pointed ears very much like a domesticated animal, one small, almost triangular red eye, whiskers on both sides of its oblong head, and the strangest and yet cutest, small lips that would spread into a gracile smile. And atop its furry head stood a similar antenna as the original protopet's, a blue dot at its tip, that would sporadically flicker to express its current emotion. It was very similar to the Protopet, but it never needed to eat, had only the simplest emotions, and definitely could not reproduce. Megacorp had obviously learned from their previous mistakes with the original pet.
With the prototype placed on a table, two researchers tested the tolerance of the creature, using all sorts of things...from prickly needles to heat to electricity. The adorable creature practically withstood the hypotheses put against it.
The researchers, finished with the beast, turned to Angela and waited for a response. Just as the geneticist was about to give new orders, Fizzwidget entered the laboratory, walking at a calm pace. Gesturing for the experimenters within the testing room to remain where they were, she turned and greeted him.
"Mr. Wizzwidget? Hi! I didn't expect you to pay an unexpected visit, and so soon. I was just in the middle of--" she paused, as the old man wrapped an arm around the small of her back and pulled her away from the others. This type of gesture was very uncharacteristic of the founder, but the others took it as a hint not to bother them.
"Ms. Cross, it's so very nice to see you again. I was just so flabbergasted by this morning's news that I had forgotten to call ahead of time." His voice became soft and patient. "Listen, there has been a terrible robbery committed from right under our very noses. This is all very shocking. This meticulous thief even injured several of the company's guards in the act, but they survived."
To express certain awe she brought a hand to his lips, flattened her pointy ears back, and widened her eyes a little.
"That's just terrible, sir. Do we know who is behind this theft?"
A look of disbelief materialized on the old man's face.
"Unfortunately, I am afraid not. Our cameras could not detect the thief's face. My dear, no need to worry, an investigation is already underway to apprehend this thief. I have already dispatched an experienced team of trackers for the job."
"I see, sir. Is there anything that I can do to help?"
Abercrombie looked over her for a moment and mused to himself.
"Perhaps you could review these video copies from the Todano vidtapes and see if you can spot something our people could not? That would be most helpful, deary."
Reluctant at first to accept the small media disks from him, she took them and stared down at them in indecisiveness.
At this, Fizzwidget gave her a soft pat on her shoulder, rousing her from her thoughts, and then promptly made his way out of the laboratory. Meanwhile, happening right behind her, one of the testers, out of boredom, began to shine a small flashlight into the experiment's eyes to check its one, giant pupil.
Angela slowly turned, to stand askew, in time to see a different reaction from Prototype-X. It seemed the experiment had a weakness after all. The flashlight that was deliberately agitating the creature was suddenly swallowed by it, after it had thoroughly wrapped its extremely scary, spiked and long tongue around the device. At this, the tester withdrew his hand in shock, massaging it as if it too had gotten caught in the depths of the beast's maw.
"We found its soft spot...photosensitivity," said the tester.
Angela gave a nod and soughed softly. "We need to fix that. I think."
She turned her attention back at her work station. Moving to it, so she could gather her things, she slid a slender finger across the touch pad of her laptop, and it returned to her spreadsheet. The laptop unexpectedly closed the important program and on her desktop there was an image she had gotten off the net from a news article; it was an image of Ratchet, the short lombax with Clank strapped onto his back. Why she had placed it on her desktop, she didn't really know, but seeing it every now and again brought back old memories of their awkward times together. And to think, she mused, that he almost bashed her with his wrench before...when she feigned to be the Unknown.
The thought of that little incident near the frozen base on Siberius brought an uncontrollable and nefarious smile across her face.
Oh, Ratchet.
17:13 - Planet Grelbin, Tundor Wastes, Bogon Galaxy
Back home after a long and exhaustive work day, it was pouring chunky flakes of snow as it has always done at Tundor Wastes. It was late in the afternoon when Angela's ship landed on her very own launch port, although small it proved most convenient for someone who did a lot of traveling.
When the canopy hissed open, ice crystals greeted her face. She leapt out of the ship with such grace her boots hardly made any sound in the snow, or at least because of the bustling gusts of wind had totally blocked it out. A few, to several, inches of snow--heaps here and there--covered the port. The wind sounded monstrously loud from the direction it blew hardest. Still fitted in her work clothes, she was beginning to become numb all over, so she skipped quickly through the snow-covered landing zone, trying not to trip.
The glimpse of a bonfire from afar caught her attention. Out several yards lived the only other person who could speak her language--the old and sage Mystic. Unfortunately, because of the harsh conditions of this particular day, the old man was nowhere to be seen. Despite his absence, he always had his fire lasting through the night, with the kettle hanging on a stick over the flames of the fire.
Angela wondered for a moment where the Mystic was, but she guessed he probably went for a walk among the dangerous snowbeasts--furry, feral creatures that always gave a good chase in search for food. If that was the case, then she was certain that if he risked the chance with fate, it was because he wanted to find more of those valuable moonstones.
Reaching the entrance to her dome-like home, she inserted a personal keycard into a slot reader on the side, and then the electronic device gave a repetitious beep as the internal locking mechanism of the double door clicked open. Entering her home every time gave her nostrils a new kind of smell. Even though it was basically her natural aroma, it was always trapped in the items that adorned her small home.
"Lights on."
Almost immediately, several lights fitted onto the ceiling flickered to life, lighting the path down a long hall to her bedroom. There, standing at the foot of her bed, she slid off her lab coat and dropped it onto the floor, and removed other articles. She desired a warm bath, something to elevate her mood.
In the warm water steam billowed from its surface and the smooth contours of her body. The water had a lathery feel to it, making it all the more soothing. With her eyes closed, she reached behind her head and undid her headband, allowing her hair to descend to her shoulders in a tangly mess. Thereafter, she slowly slid deeper into the tub, bending her knees, the only part of her that broke the water's stillness, and soon she allowed the rest of her upper body to be soaked. From beneath the pool, she reopened her eyes, slowly, and stared off into the bathroom's metallic ceiling, holding her breath for however long she could.
She began thinking about the past. She remembered everything in fine detail, and all the things she did to try and ensure the safety of her galaxy, that is, until he, the lombax from an entirely different quadrant of another galaxy, interloped with the simple mission. Oh, how the boy gave her such grief over her own design, her own creation. At first, that brought back a forgotten sense of loathing for the hero. Why did he have to come along and screw everything up? she thought. Then she reminded herself that in spite she had lost the experiment to him, she did prove a worthy adversary as the Thief.
Their battle was a golden moment in her life, a sort of turning point too. It was the first time someone had ever challenged her authority in a matter. The lombax was tenacious in getting the job done. She reminisced how the lombax angrily bit his lip when she taunted him after he made a lunge for her. Too slow, you corporate lackey, a sentence she repeated in her mind. But she could still see the lombax climbing a series of ladders to reach the top of the heliport--the rendezvous point. Once he got there, he took aim at her with his big weapon, but missed because of the dexterity of her foot-worn flying glider; it was simply too quick for him. She even sent wave after wave of thugs after him, and still he defeated every one of them. Then the lombax shot everything he had at her, and yet he did not capture her after it was over. He let her go. That had to mean something.
Angela surfaced to breathe, massaged her eyes, and then soughed deeply. She looked around the bathroom, looking for answers to her questions. Looking into the mirror across from the tub, although she could not see herself, she saw an image of Ratchet with a sheepish grin.
"I can't believe I sent him a Balloon-O-Gram," she muttered. "Told him where I lived."
Another memory came back to her and one that would make her feel a bit disgruntled. It was already bad enough that she had given up her experiment, lost to him in battle, and then he did what she half-expected. He saved her; and, after all of that fighting on Snivelak, he had forgotten about her. How can one be so selfless and mindless in unison? Yeah, that was what he was.
It seemed even during her baths she couldn't get the lombax out of her mind; the thought of him sometimes piqued her, bringing forth emotions she would have never believed she had. It later became evident that she possessed hidden emotions for her savior, even if some of those same feelings had been preconceived resentment. Was he such a bad person? These thoughts came and went suddenly, and she somehow found herself lying on her bed, dressed only in her regular clothing: a matching, tight-fitting flight suit. In one hand, a finger gently swirled atop the furry head of her personal, the original Protopet.
The little blue creature seemed to purr given by the vibrations that were being felt from it. Its little antenna bounced softly, and its little feet shuffled to show its pleasure. Angela seemed unmindful while playing with her pet, but then a thought brought her back to reality.
"Hey, those viddiscs..." she said, getting up and retrieving the clothes she left on the floor. She found the discs within the deep pockets of her lab coat. Discs in hand, she dropped the uniform back on the floor and hopped onto her bed, crawling over to a night stand where she had a vidplayer. Inserting the first compact disc, she watched the small holovid that brightened into a miniature projection screen. She watched the security feed carefully, placing a finger against her chin.
"Hm... what do we have here? Someone that's better than me?" she joked, laughing inwardly.
She noticed the two guards approaching the main entrance camera of the armory, seemingly talking to each other, and then stopping short at the front of the facility. A few seconds after the angle of the security camera motioned to the side, looking into a trimmed yard, a blur, the majority of it cut from the screen, mysteriously appeared. Seeing there was something wrong with that, she rewound a few seconds, paused at the first sight of it and studied it closely.
"So there was another person there with the guards. But how did he, or she, know to..."
She played the video and noticed that the two guards were gone. There was no other person in front of the building for at least a minute. Then came someone that appeared to be another guard where the other two once stood. What was stranger was that the person just casually walked from the side of the entrance, almost as if he were from the shadows. What in Bogon was going on here?
The protopet crept up to her forearm and nuzzled it, begging for some more of her attention. Reaching down to pet it, she used her other hand to replace the first disc with another one, and this time this was from a camera from within the building that monitored the corridors and offices on a particular floor in question. Again, this same person whose face was covered by a security guard's cap, went past everyone without suspicion. It was almost as if he knew where the cameras were and avoided looking up at them.
"This thief is good. He obviously did his homework." Angela narrowed her eyes, trying to see what this person actually looked like. "Definitely not reptilian. Not a marsupial. But nonetheless furry. His ears, they look so familiar. And where's his tail? Does he have one?"
In another sector of the building, on a remote catwalk, the mysterious guest walked onward, regardless of the approaching guard employee. What happened next appeared fast body movements. The guard was taken down by a club with a single blow to the head. How strong was this person? The camera feed ended there.
She replaced the second disc with a third.
Now this feed was from within the armory. Nothing but robot workers there. Surely this person couldn't take out a bot with a stick? The thief continued toward the place that stored weapons and gadgets, ignoring all the movement around him. The robot workers continued their tasks, only to steal a glimpse of the guard, and then returning to their work. And by the time the thief reached the vault and realized that it was sealed, that didn't stop him.
He looked around for a moment, went off where the camera couldn't see him, and then he was never seen again for the last ten minutes. Angela skipped past half an hour of recording, and still the vault door hadn't been disturbed. This brought a state of consternation. Then how did the robbery take place?
She put in the fourth and last security disc.
Once it played, it showed the interior of the vault. What happened next was unbelievable. During the same time the thief had disappeared out of sight in front of the vault, somehow, he found his way inside, and clearly without the aid of any explosive or advanced weaponry.
Angela moved closer to the projector, and nearly squeezing her pet to death. "That's not possible!" she shouted, intrigued by this extraordinary theft.
Something caught her eye at the last moment while the thief finishing picking up specific weapons and gadgets.
"Aha! What do we have here?" She paused the video.
Using the controls on the base of the vidplayer, she zoomed in on the thief's left hand, which held something small, silver and round. Under the light, the device seemed to gleam at the time the vid was halted.
"Perhaps that's how he did it? An illegal gadget? But what? How? Why?"
She let the rest of the feed play, watching how careful the thief was at placing the weapons and gadgets into a one of the storage cases the vault provided, and then he walked out from the camera's eye, disappearing again. The security camera footage truncated there.
She contemplated the matter after taking in all the evidence from the viddiscs.
"Visually speaking, he's dressed up as a guard, covered his head with a hat and his tail, if there is one, inside his clothing. He walked as if he knew where the cameras were placed, and then used a device that was capable of making a person vanish into thin air. Could Megacorp have a surreptitious employee? Whoever this is, someone has to find out. And it might as well be me. This isn't exactly something to concern Mr. Hero about. This is my galaxy."
All of a sudden, an ingenious idea occurred to her, at which she formed a sly look, arching an eyebrow. She ran the idea again and again in her mind, and the more she put herself in the middle of it, the greater her countenance became.
"I'll solve this one all on my own..." she said proudly, getting up from her bed and jumping off. She made her way into another room of her home, the one where she kept her latest of her personal inventions--things she kept from Megacorp. In the inventor's room, cluttered with many unfinished projects, some inventions were products of failure from the start, and some were not. She always tried to improve upon all the items Megacorp were already successful with.
On her inventor's desk, there were prototypes of weapons, gadgets, blue prints of many kinds, and the whole wall along the desk area blueprints covered it with posters of unheard of inventions. With an arm, she completely cleared off everything on her desk, letting various things fall to the floor with a crash. Once satisfied with a clean desk, she dusted off a stool, brought it over, and then began rearranging the lighting of the room with the touch of a knob.
She then went over to a nearby closet and opened it. Inside was a finished project, a type of battle armor wear that neither Megacorp or any other major maker has ever heard of. She called it...
She produced a broad smile. "Tuferalox. It's nice to see you again, old thing."
Tuferalox was a type of body armor, a befitting commando suit for taller persons, that she had originally designed for Megacorp, but decided to keep it for other reasons. The suit sported a black finish that glistened under light; a matching helmet accompanied it, and the suit was made to withstand some of the most adverse conditions in battle, anything from blaster burns, shotgun blasts, electricity, liquid nitrogen weaponry, and many others.
The inside fabric lining was so watertight that even after going for a swim one would still be dry. In a lot of ways, this special armor was unassailable. Even if the person within this suit couldn't be readily hurt, but with enough pressure on the outside, for the body to be jolted so badly, the person could still be injured. A blast from a tank's shell would be a true test of this suit's durability. As for the helmet, it included a thick-layered visor behind the eye sockets of the mask; and the visor itself was a technologically advanced mask that covered the entire head, and it was able to keep record of the armor's overall condition.
Angela Cross's life was about to change for the better. At least that was what she thought to be the case. After marveling at her own creation, she removed her regular clothing, leaving on the garments that really mattered. Within a few minutes, she had the armor on fully, fastening the shoulder plates to complete the package. Lastly, she carefully pulled on the helmet, which then activated the system within the suit. A system calibration check flashed on the inner screen of the visor, where her eyes were, giving readings in many numbers and symbols. The eye sockets of the helmet emitted a soft glow of silver.
From the foot of her bed her protopet barked as if to cheer her on. At this, she gave her pet a gloved thumbs up, and then tried walking around in her armor.
The armor seemed too light on her and her footing was easily accomplished. The weight of the armor was no hindrance. Knowing this, she returned to the closet and examined the very few weapons and gadgets she had designed to beseem the armor. She had only two weapons and one gadget.
"Ah, the Plasma Sword. Charged particles producing high outputs of energy, fully capable of charring the most formidable materials," she said to herself as a reminder while holding the inactive saber. She examined it thoroughly, and then slid it into its scabbard built into the thigh of her armor.
The second and last weapon she had invented some time ago was one of her favorites.
"Star Blade,"--she grinned--"One blade becomes four stars. This will certainly be handy for multiple fiends."
Finally, the last item she had time to create and modify after work was actually a very useful gadget. It resembled a HyperShot, but certainly smaller and more stylish. It was an add-on to her body armor, and more noticeably an attachment for either forearms for swinging, grappling, and activating certain electrical devices.
She clipped on the device and noticed the suit registering that the device was working properly. She aimed it at an object in the room, at an empty box, and tried the gadget out. The device popped open a slot in front of it, slowly pushing out an inch of what appeared to be hooks shaped like bullets, and then fired them with a resounding blast. The strange hooks found their mark on the box and began to pull it toward her. Not paying too much attention to the rate of the suspension, the box reeled in too fast and smashed her in the face. Luckily, the armor kept her on her feet. Had that been without any extra weight, she surely would have fallen back.
"Ow! Darnit, I'll have to be careful with this thing."
Now that everything was all set she was ready to take on the new thief: her battle suit worked perfectly; the weapons worked; and she already had a general idea of where to go to track down the thief. She was several steps ahead of herself, or so she liked to believe. This time, she reassured herself, no one would be getting in her way. Not even Ratchet.
06:00 - Planet Veldin, Kyzil Plateau, Solana Galaxy
It has been almost a year after Dr. Nefarious's defeat, marking a new beginning for everyone in the Solana galaxy. Because there were no more threats to be dealt with, Ratchet had decided to withdraw from the Q-Force. Following a similar action as his friend, Clank took up a full-time role as Secret Agent Clank, making his already famous name extend beyond the reaches of both Solana and Bogon. He found himself mostly busy with his acting career, and it was very seldom that he chose to disturb Ratchet's time of peace, but they kept in touch in one way or another. As for Ratchet's early retirement from being a hero, he has since kept himself busy, always bent on repairing something around his home. Sometimes during nights, when he has nothing to do in particular, he spent them half contemplating and reflecting about himself.
The Q-Force, however, has always remained in effect, serving as the official galactic peacekeeper of the Solana galaxy. Captain Qwark led the force once again, keeping a keen eye out on the denizens of the galaxy; he did this for one other reason, too, such as to be sponsored by the Arena games and receive another revenue. As for Big Al, the former roboshack owner, he worked exclusively for intelligence agencies all around the galaxy. Thanks to his connections and through his brother Bob, the Q-Force was constantly up to speed on news and the latest information regarding technology and science. Helga, the robotic fitness trainer, never relented when it came to keeping the team on its toes with exercises and fitness and strength training; and not only did she watch over the others well-being but also prepared their daily meals much to their dislike. Skid McMarx was still around, too, although a little light on spy missions, he was occasionally given reconnaissance duties to test the latest gadgets provided by Gadgetron. Skrunch never left his master's side, and sometimes could be found wherever someone left a banana out in the open aboard the Starship Phoenix. And lastly, the galactic president's daughter, Captain Sasha, has been the busiest of them all in making sure things were running smoothly, not only with the Q-Force but the Galactic Rangers too. Most of the time she found herself in a reverie, imagining all the times she could be having with her lombax boyfriend. For awhile, their relationship had been unofficial one, but it was not quite platonic as one or the other truly wanted it to be.
Veldin, on this particularly day, seemed more arid and less habitable than normal. Ratchet couldn't comprehend why he was beginning to feel like he did before his adventures took off when he called home boring. Contrary to how he was beginning to feel, home was where he chose to be. He sometimes wished his new love would quit her job and settle down with him, but he wouldn't allow himself to be that selfish. He knew his girlfriend had far more important things to be doing, and these things were what made her selfless more than him.
The short lombax thought of these things, not feeling as complacent as before, when he had originally decided to disband. Maybe, he thought, he had enough adventure for one lifetime. In his hand, he held his Omniwrench firmly and began tightening a bolt to an engine that would eventually go into his latest star fighter. He always wanted to create his own custom engine to prove to himself that he was really talented.
The sound of the wrench kept him in a trance. He was working, but almost in a zombie state where his eyes did not follow the movement of the bolt. Behind him, his tail rested on the floor, curled slightly upward at the end. His ears were also partially drooping on both sides of his head. He was dressed only in his green-armored pants from one of his old commando suits. He was topless as usually, something he preferred most of the time when he was at home. From all of his adventures and from working with his arms most of the time, small muscles lined his back. His chest cavity was more robust than when he had first begun his quest to stop Drek. Four packs of muscle bulged at his abdomen, making him even more attractive to the females on his planet. His body may have hardened, but his heart remained soft as ever. He never allowed any other female to catch his fancy, either, even if they were of his kind. He wanted to believe that he was totally faithful to his Marcadian jewel.
The sound of something shattering on the steel floor of his garage grabbed the attention of his ears; they perked upright and swerved a couple of times as if to register the new sound precisely. At first, he ignored the sound, not particularly caring what object had decided to break on its own. His bore a deadpan countenance, and then stopped what he was doing, with his right arm still on the wrench, and only motioning his head to glance over his right shoulder.
"What fell?" he said. "What do I have in here that's made of glass?"
He removed his hand from the wrench, turned completely around, and surveyed the floor. Near the entrance, by the front of a couch, a picture frame had fallen and broken to pieces. He didn't remember what it had shown, but he walked over to make the rediscovery himself.
He knelt down and picked up the frame, slowly turning it over as if to surprise himself anew. The digital photograph was something taken from when he had resided in the Bogon galaxy. The background was undoubtedly Clank's condominium back in Megapolis. In the picture was Clank, his secret fem bot admirer, and himself. Something or someone seemed to be missing, because he could have sworn there was more to that picture, if his memory served him right. Then, tucked secretly behind the main picture, there was another picture hidden behind a cutout of cardboard.
He removed the picture and examined it. This one was something taken by Clank, featuring himself--and her.
"Angela. Angela Cross," he said repeatedly as old memories were returning to him in an instant; old revelations returned in full bloom.
He elevated his head to get a good look of his friend. "Angela," he said once more, almost in a sacred whisper.
The memories were coming back to him at a fast rate, as flashes and voices. Not surprisingly, the first thing he remembered about her was how she had dressed up as a thief and put him through a lot of trouble just to retrieve the Protopet. A chuckle escaped behind gritted teeth at the thought of tightening his wrench around her neck.
"You made me so mad that I wanted to..." the ending of the sentence made him gnaw his lower lip. "...blow you away."
It was true. The Thief did put him in harm's way a lot of times and the only way the lombax knew how to deal with harm was to bash it with his wrench or to simply blow it into smithereens with weapons. He believed there was no matter that couldn't be solved with a gun; it was the only way he knew how to deal with problems. Violence was just in his blood, he thought.
Ratchet took note of how good Angela looked at the time of the capture. She was sitting so close to him and her body turned in his direction. Before the camera captured the image of them, one of her arms had snaked its way around his shoulder and pulled him into a noogie. He never expected the geneticist to do such a thing then; it was so unnatural.
"I'll get you back for that, Angela Cross," he stressed her name just the same as she had done in an intergalactic greeting. "Why did I ever hide this picture for?"
He looked down for a moment and frowned. "Oh yeah, Sasha." He rubbed his nape with a gloved hand, feeling a bit guilty all of a sudden.
Without warning, the holoscreen screwed into the wall, behind his couch, clicked on and an image took shape into what appeared to be Skid McMarx. Judging by the transmission, the former hover board champ was aboard the Phoenix.
"Yo, Ratchet, dude! How's it goin'?"
The lombax crumbled the picture of Angela quickly and put it behind him.
"Things...are...good! I think. So what's the news at Starship Phoenix?" he inquired with a big, goofy grin.
"We got word of something--oh! What was it again? Oh, yeah, of someone. My mistake. Reports are coming in from the Rangers at Kerwan that there's someone trying to be like you, and he's causing all kinds of trouble and confusion and chaos. Yeah, man. Big trouble."
Ratchet's eyes broadened. "Seriously? Someone is trying to impersonate me?"
"Seems that way, my friend. What do you want to do about it? Personally, I'd been down there already and open a can of whoopin'. Ya still got that wrench, right? Show this crazy hero wannabe what you're all about. He can't be dissin' you like that."
Ratchet thought about Skid's advice, tightening the photo behind him in his gloved hand.
"I'll tell you what... Let the rangers deal with this crazy nut. If the situation doesn't change, then I'll deal with it, personally. It's been awhile since I used my Omniwrench on someone."
"Alright, man, that's the plan. I'll tell it to the others," said Skid, the image of his finger growing large as if he was about to shut off the transmission.
Ratchet held out a hand. "Whoa, wait!"
"Yeah, bud?"
"Where's Sasha? Is she...abroad?"
Suddenly Skrunch's face maximized on the screen, having to be pushed back by Skid. The monkey made lots of noises as if to complain and repeatedly hopped in indignation. From somewhere in the background, the voice of Helga shouted at him.
"Ze crazy monkey! Go do somezing that vill help us all out."
"Aw...don't bother the little guy. He can't help he's just so excited to hear from the furry guy like an ant is merry with a leaf on its back, taking the baby home. Haha!" came from Captain Qwark.
Skid finally restrained the one-eyed alien monkey in a half nelson.
"Sorry about that, Ratchet dude, this little guy startin' to get on my nerves. Anyway, Sasha's back at her home world to help the galactic president. I'll tell her to give ya a call back, k? The Big Q, er, Q-Force out."
The holoscreen went blank, leaving Ratchet to his thoughts. The lombax brought his arm back around and looked at what was left of the photograph...now ruined. His ears flattened again and he exhaled deeply. He had something he wanted to do, but that would have to wait until later. For now, he wondered what kind of a person would try to be like him, only the opposite, during a time of peace.
Ratchet retired into his underground home, entering his small bedroom and opening a large chest that stored his previous armors of the past. He picked out his old favorite, the original commando suit given to him as a reward for completing his intensive training at Megacorp long ago. The green suit was still in great order, but it just needed a little dusting off.
He removed his armored pants from another suit and pulled on the new one, followed by its chest plate. He decided against wearing a helmet, because he never did particularly like seeing all of those numbers and nanotech data informing him of the current situation; he was more content with putting all of his attention into the battle at hand. And once most of the commando armor was on, he stepped out of his home, back into the hot air, looking like he had returned from a war.
The lombax went over to his latest ship from his last mission. The ship was still in mint condition, and it was the fastest of all the ships he ever flown. It was weird how he would always find some other aircraft to replace the last one. He thought about it, and then snickered to himself. He climbed onto the ship, not opening the canopy, but just to walk to the nose of it and sit there, taking in the sight of his home world. Without completing his new engine, he didn't plan on going anywhere just yet.
It was still early in the morning. He always had been the earliest lombax to rise before the sun and the last one to sleep well past the regular bedtime. It was no wonder why he stood out from all the others. No matter, he liked being different because that meant he was unique.
He looked up at the morning sky littered with several stars; there was a red haze to the air, and he flicked his tongue out because he could taste the saltiness of the air. After living in an exclusive area surrounded by the sea for so long, he had grown accustomed to doing this. For awhile, the lombax just sat there, and then reclined against the fiber glass of his ship.
The lombax finally said something, even though he thought it was foolishness or mindless babble.
"This is the beginning of good times and bad."