A NEW BEGINNING

Chapter Five

"The Impersonator"

11:17 - Kerwan, Metropolis, Solana Galaxy

Many things moved; rapidly discerning organic and inorganic alike, in the city of Metropolis on the planet Kerwan, behind the dreary orange glow of the psychotic robot's visor. To others who were the spectators of the combat scene, they attested to how adjacent skyscrapers, naturally intertwined with the vegetation of the planet, were set ablaze--with windows shattering--the instant the robot's weaponry struck them; in addition, the beautiful trees and plants were ignited instantaneously with every brush against the molten lava stream from the machine's Lava Gun. Despite the conflict occurring high atop the catwalk of a building, which overlooked the center of the city and its heavy traffic, the civilians in airborne vehicles continued to rush past above the war zone without stopping and risking their lives.

For as long as the battle has ensued after the appearance of the robotic menace, the galactic rangers had already dubbed the unassailable machine Infernox, because of its inexplicably resilient body frame and head armor constructed of the best alloys in the galaxy--Carbonox and Magnaplate. The rangers knew their weapons were mediocre at best with every shot that attempted scorched Infernox's thick armor plating, triggering its protective shield barrier, but in spite of the hopelessness in the situation they continued firing volley after volley. The advanced shielding technology of the robot masked its brilliant chassis with a sleek, red coat of energy, showering in a brief radiance of electricity which sometimes crackled and sparked whenever the rangers' shock rounds would try to penetrate its defense field. It was not only dangerous to come into contact with the machine's shielding but also very foolish, for its barrier would emit a short wave of electricity to singe the nearest objects around it.

The irony in it all, the rangers believed, was the appearance of the enemy, who looked like Solana's greatest hero, whose identity could easily be mistaken for the shape of the body armor and how it looked exactly like the short lombax. The only thing that marred the almost perfect design of the hero was the cold, sadistic, and robotic intonation it would occasionally drone.

"Keep firing! Keep firing!" said the galactic ranger in charge. "We mustn't let that thing through the first line."

Several of the rangers fired their shock blasters in a frenzy, missing and landing shots on the being that advanced slowly, determinedly. Their rounds continued to either bounce off or scorch the armor of Infernox. The red and thin rectangular visor on its mask gleamed a moment, as if to signal its next attack with its weapon. It lifted its weapon, aimed it toward a small row of rangers that formed the first line, and released a quick, steady stream of magma. The downpour of lava came fast, disintegrating everything in its path except for the hard surface, which left a black, stringy trail of char where the lava had been.

The rangers shrieked in absolute cowardice when the tendril of lava swept past, narrowly missing them. For the unlucky few, the lava had rained somewhere on their bodies, and then that part of them slowly deteriorated. Thereafter, those who were affected by the lava gun's hot stream would then erupt in a ball of flame and explode into fiery bits of metal and bolts. Nothing that could identify a ranger was left behind.

Infernox finally released the trigger of its gun, making the seemingly endless stream of lava recede and dissipate into its nozzle. He lowered his weapon to inspect his destructive work, or what was left of the first line of galactic rangers, who were distancing themselves from the menacing weapon. On the surface, many black, thin trails, sometimes interconnected, told a story of how the first wave of rangers were captured in the hot web of doom.

Several feet from the scene, in between the rangers and the enemy, was Darla Gratch; the robot newswoman--reporting to Sixty-Four News. For a while, the newswoman has been keeping the concerned viewers of Kerwan and the rest of the galaxy up to date on the unbelievable situation. With microphone in hand, she turned her attention over to Infernox, the cameraman panning the camera, and then televised.

"This is Darla Gratch, of Sixty-Four News, bringing you the latest update on the situation in Kerwan, Metropolis. Despite the heroic efforts of the Galactic Rangers, it seems this metallic menace is really withstanding everything thrown at it. From the looks of things, for the viewers at home, if you look carefully at the robot which is now being called the dreaded Infernox, you'll find that it is shaped and bears a shocking resemblance to our very own galactic hero, Ratchet. Who would design a model so conspicuous? Nevertheless, Kerwan is in need of a hero right about now."

Off to the side of the cameraman's angle, a black ship began its slow descent. Turning the camera to face the newcomer arriving on the scene, Darla walked back in front of the camera and gave another update.

"What's this? I spoke too soon, folks! Just a minute of mentioning the ever famous Ratchet, the lombax of Veldin just magically appears,"--she chuckled, approaching the hero's ship--"Let's get a quick word or two from Solana's savior and see what he has to say about this Infernox."

Ratchet hopped out of the canopy of his ship, pulled down a small lever on the side of it, and removed the heavy case, dragging it a little along the surface to the side before opening it. Inside, his eyes looked over the many weapons he brought with him. Soon, a shadow flushed over him and he motioned his head over his shoulder to see who it was.

"Ratchet! How's it going?" Darla asked.

The lombax rummaged through his case of weapons. He removed an old favorite, the Gravity Bomb, and grinned to himself. Reaching into the case once again to retrieve another powerful weapon, he gave an askant stare into the camera, remembering suddenly the question asked.

"Well, you know how it is, things have been fine as always with me. Heh. I heard Kerwan was being attacked and I happened to be in the neighborhood, so I figured I'd come down here and deal with the problem right away."

"I see. So...does this mean that you're back in the hero business or are you simply filling in your old shoes, so to speak? And do you have any strategic plans for dealing with the Infernox menace today?"

The lombax turned to face the camera, still in a crouch, with gloved hands resting down at his sides. He raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you guys are calling it now? Infernox? Hm."--he smiled a little--"I guess my plan is to see what it's been doing all this time and look for some weaknesses. As you probably already know, I haven't been on the battle field for a while, so I'm kind of rusty. And to answer your first question, Darla," he said, holding up a finger, "no, I'm not officially back, so you could say this is just a temporary affair. If there's trouble somewhere and I'm nearby, I'll be there."

He reached back inside the case and revealed a Liquid Nitrogen gun.

"Ah, I see. Nonetheless, it's great to see you back in action." Darla laughed briefly. "Infernox--that's the name the Galactic Rangers have given it, and it holds true because of its design. What do you think of its armor? And do you believe that just maybe, somewhere at there, that some mastermind is trying to take a stab at your reputation by conceiving such an atrocious machine in your likeness?"

Ratchet stopped what he was doing, stood up, and turned to study the battle scene occurring in the background. He rubbed his chin, and then shrugged.

"Whoever designed it, I doubt my past enemies (Drek or Dr. Nefarious) has anything to do with this. But if it's a machine, it can be destroyed all the same. There hasn't been a bot I couldn't put down with my wrench. Whoever made that thing, this Infernox, he did a pretty poor job. I'm way better looking than that rust bucket." The lombax grinned sheepishly.

The lombax removed one more large weapon from his case. Closing the case, he put it back into the small compartment of his ship, and then climbed to his feet with one of the weapons in hand. With his eyes fixed on the scene, he quickly finished his brief interview with Darla, and began walking down some stone stairs. Darla and cameraman followed him for a few moments, trying to get all the footage they could of the hero.

She fired a few more questions. "So, Ratchet? No head gear? No gadgets? No commando suit? Do you truly feel prepared for this fight?"

During this time, the cameraman positioned the camera to zoom in on the hero's body, motioning it up and down.

The lombax stopped, turned slightly, and gave a sly look into the camera, winking once. "Darla, you're talking to a guy who went through Solana half-naked before during the time of Drek. I had no commando suits then. All I had were my pants, my chest belt here, and..."--he suddenly remembered that he was missing something or someone--"Clank."

"Very true!" said Darla. "And what are those new armored pants you have on? And what of Clank? Is the star too engrossed in making his movies than to be here on Kerwan to help you?"

Flattening his ears, Ratchet gave a reassuring, confident smile. "Before I left Veldin, I decided to pack and dress light. Why be weighed down in heavy battle gear during flight? However, speaking of commando suits, these armored pants belong to one of my old suits. This was something given to me during my stay in Bogon, I believe."

"Going for a new, old school look, huh? No bad, Ratchet."

"Heh. You could say that, Darla. As for Clank, well, I'm sure that's not the case. I bet he's just busy as I speak, but if he could I'm sure he would've been here with me. After all, Holostar Studios is halfway across Solana." He managed a small smile. "With or without the little guy, the job needs to get done one way or another."

"I'm sure our viewers at home and all around the galaxy understand. And without further ado, we'll let you do your thing now. Good luck, Ratchet!"

"Thanks!" he said, turning to descend the stairs in front of him.

Darla turned to the camera and gestured toward Ratchet with a hand. "There you have it, Kerwan--Solana. If there's a problem, throw a 'ratchet' at it."

The lombax made his way down to the catwalk of the building. He walked in a casual manner, taking in the explosive sights between the rangers and Infernox. Making his way over to the rangers, one of them shouted in excitement, renewed that the situation was about to change for the better (and that he and the others could probably leave now).

"Hey, Sarge! Glad you could make it. We were getting a little worried that you wouldn't make it in time."

Another cowardly voice rang from the back of the group. "Sir, glad you could make it. This robotic nut has us on a run for our bolts. He's got a Lava Gun that keeps us pinned down."

"Just look at the black scars on the ground! The black scars! The black scarsssss! Ohh, ohh, the horror," came the mournful voice of another ranger.

Ratchet examined the war zone around him, noticing several bolts, nuts, and debris strewn over the rooftop surface. Blockades made of stone had been toppled; and among the debris, as long and narrow objects, the things that would normally dot the catwalk, had turned black from being charred, and he could only presume that the former trees and street lamps had been shot down between the exchange of gunfire. Buildings that neighbored the catwalk shared a sad story of broken glass, fire, and screams. All of these things invoked a different kind of emotion in the lombax, growing in intensity.

"Incoming!" cried out a ranger.

Hero and rangers ducked behind the remaining blockages, which shielded them from the stream of lava. When the quick string of lava subsided, Ratchet readied his N-60 Assault Rifle and barked an order.

"All right, rangers! Leave this bucket of bolts to me. Clear the area. I'm going to need room to make a mess."

The rangers moved out, running from the battle zone. On the catwalk, there was only the lombax and Infernox. The machine approached without intimidation, stopping short in front of the barrier that shielded the lombax. They faced each other. Then it drew its weapon onto the lombax and charged its gun. In a flash, Ratchet appeared a few feet off to the side with his weapon fixed on the chest plate of the machine, the barrel of his assault rifle glowing orange.

"Boo!" was all Ratchet said, and then fired a continuous succession of strong blasts.

The powerful blasts of the N-60 were enough to push back the Infernox, penetrating its shield and chipping little bits of its armor, but it still remained on its feet. After taking several blasts and being forced back against a guard rail near the side edge of the catwalk, Infernox increased its shield defense to its highest capacity with a press of a hidden button on its forearm. The last few blasts from the N-60 were repelled, deflected to uncharted areas of the city, and some of which having slammed into neighboring, conterminous skyscrapers, causing their rectangular windows to explode on impact.

"That wasn't enough for you, eh? Try this..." the lombax pointed and smirked.

He equipped his Gravity Bomb launcher, aimed, and fired a round bomb at the robot's feet. The bomb came into contact with the catwalk surface and engulfed the whole area and the machine in a spectacular sphere of fire and destruction. Moments later, the blast radius collapsed onto itself, but the robot was nowhere to be seen. It could only be presumed it had been sent over the ledge of the catwalk from the blast.

Ratchet tossed aside his depleted bomb launcher, walked over to the guard rail where the robot had been, and looked over to see where it went. Unexpectedly, a blur exploded into the air, startling the hero and making him fall back. The railing he had bent over broke the in the instant of Inferno's return, where it had smashed into it with its metallic boot.

Ratchet looked up into the sky, at his impersonator. It slowly made its descent back onto the surface of the catwalk a few feet in front of him, and on its back was a thruster-pack unlike anything the lombax had ever seen; a new design that was probably from another quadrant of Solana.

"Okay, you got me. I didn't expect you to have your own thruster-pack," said Ratchet, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You...will...die," came the same cold, robotic voice as before.

The lombax laughed. "Is that all you can say?"

He waited from the machine to land on its feet and, when it disengaged its thruster-pack, he brought around his last weapon--the Liquid Nitrogen gun. Similar to the robot's Lava Gun, a stream of blue liquid poured over the robot, covering it in thick sheets of ice. After dousing the it with a few layers of the chilly liquid, it froze Infernox inside a giant ice cube which immobilized it completely. With a whoop, the lombax cheered to himself and slowly walked over to the frozen robot.

He stood in front of it, admiring how well his weapon had worked against Infernox. He grinned when he saw his reflection. Upon a closer inspection of the masked machine, he saw from behind the thick ice that the machine's eyes, behind the translucent visor, stared back with a devious, crimson gleam. This unsettled the lombax, so he pulled out his Omniwrench and held it high, gathering enough strength to put an end to the enemy once and for all.

Small plumes of smoke billowed off the block of ice as if the heat captured inside it was growing tremendously. Seeing this, Ratchet wound back his wrench even more and prepared to strike when the ice block erupted in his face, throwing him back several feet. In the middle of the explosion, there stood the machine with water dripping off its body--off its armor-covered ears, its big and thick fingers; its metallic-ringed tail.

"Grr! You just won't go down." Ratchet growled in frustration.

Not saying one word, Infernox remained motionless and waited for the hero to leap into action. Just as calculated by the robot, its eyes followed the movements of the lombax. Ratchet climbed to his feet, leapt into the air, and performed a hyper-strike. When the hero came down with his wrench squarely on the forehead of the machine, making a loud clank, he realized the powerful move hadn't fazed it, and then something happened. An explosive aura of Infernox energy enveloped them.

Trapped within the explosion of energy, which meant the machine went into its Inferno mode, the energy electrified the lombax for several long, agonizing seconds. He could feel all the muscles in his body tighten in unison, and he lost control of all voluntary function. However, he never screamed out in pain, because he had too much pride for that. By the time the electrifying experience ended, the force field launched the Veldian and his wrench a few feet into the air, the furry body painfully hitting the surface headfirst, followed by the powerful clanking of the wrench a couple of feet away.

Ratchet and his wrench gave off smoke. A groan came from him as he endeavored to lift himself up, painfully, but dropped. He laid there, helpless, defeated and still, slipping into unconsciousness. The galactic rangers and Darla, as well as all of the other spectators from afar were taken aback, confounded by the discomfited hero. In the history of all great battles, there has never been a chapter, a story of Ratchet's defeat--until now.

Infernox's inferno mode wound down with a small explosion that peeled back trees, plants, and the fragile, broken clinker blocks the rangers had used to form the blockades. It even shook or split some of the suspension cables of the catwalk, causing a few of the long, massive wires to slam against its structure, denting the hard surface of the bridge. The small force had even turned Ratchet's body over onto his back, and his trusty wrench disappeared somewhere among the surviving shrub.

A moment later, a shadow loomed over Ratchet. A metallic boot appeared and pressed over the his throat. It was nearly his end until something caught the machine's attention. The galactic rangers stormed the scene, taking aim and waiting to see what it was going to do. Instead of terminating the lombax, the robot gripped him by one of the straps of his chest belt and dragged his body toward the edge of the catwalk. The sight of the lombax's arms and legs moving limp across the surface of the catwalk street, his body being dragged along like garbage, truly hurt the rangers' morale, and through the ranks some of them spat a curse or growls and said things to dare themselves to stop the villain.

The ranger in charged held up his hand, "Don't fire! Don't any of you dare! You may hit the Sarge or worse--give that metal nut case a reason to harm him," he ordered, lowering his head to his shock pistol, preparing to fire just in case the opportunity presented itself.

The galactic rangers watched helplessly as Infernox activated its thruster-pack once more and ascended with the limp form of Ratchet in its tight grasp. Their ready weapons followed the two as they flew off, but they couldn't fire a round. Then they lowered their weapons, stood up altogether, and holstered their firearms.

12:24 - Lot 42, Holostar Studios, Solana Galaxy

The set was silent with the wave of the director's hand. Actor robots stood in their respective places around a wooden table adorned with wine glasses and stools. With cameras strategically positioned in different points in the room, the suspense weighed heavily in the air, choking the internal gears of each robotic actor that replayed repeatedly a scene of failure in their minds. Standing atop a slick and stylish bar, under the gaze of overhead light fixtures, was the familiar--the ever famous--secret agent robot named Clank. The diminutive robot was dressed in his casual black suit and tie.

"All right, let's get it right, people," said the director through his microphone. "And...action!"

The sound of film reels inside the multiple cameras throughout the room began to roll, and then the action commenced.

The actor robots, dressed in ninja outfits, revealed their beam scythes. They moved from where they started at a quick pace, turning tables and shattering glass about the room as they made their way toward the secret agent. In response, Secret Agent Clank leapt off the bar top in a forward flip, landed in the middle of his pursuers, and readied his tiny fists, looking back and forth in a calculated manner.

Secret Agent Clank successfully dodged the first attacker who lunged at him. Using the back of his first attacker for momentum, he performed a side flip, and landed a drop kick on another robot actor. Two other bots came with their weapons twirling in a display of skill. When they finished their weapon twirling, they slashed at Clank, appearing to be lightning fast on the camera. With a mere dodge and into a split, Clank managed to dodge the edges of the purple-glowing sabers. Upon the successful evasive maneuver, he reversed his split and moved in one fluid motion to perform an uppercut, lifting one of the small robot actors off his feet. He sent the enemy in midair, turned around in a side kick position, and knocked the other actor on his back.

"Get him!" ordered the familiar and favorite villain Maxmillian from past episodes.

From behind a table, from the view of the cameras, the large robot always fitted in the same business attire held an expensive cigar between his metal lips. He bore a countenance of agitation, narrowing his robotic eyes into nefarious slits, as they followed the movements of Secret Agent Clank around the room.

The assassins, as if to acknowledge the order given, all rose to their feet and attacked together from every direction. Clank leaped over the first few of attackers and onto the bar, sliding skillfully across on two legs and making his exit outside a window. The window broke with success, sending in bits of glass into the set's interior. On the outside of the set, where the back of the wall of the window fire escape had been painted to resemble the side of the bar's brick building, Clank leaned back against the cardboard wall, watching as a lot of his attackers threw themselves out after him. The gang of bots landed outside the set, away from the angle of the camera to show that they fell to their dooms. The sound of a busy street far below the bar could be heard in the background, and then a camera positioned its lens on Clank, showing that he was safe and standing on a ledge.

"Cut! That's a wrap. Take ten, everyone, and then we'll finish the final scene."

A bit relieved, the small agent gave a brief sigh. He stepped back through the window, entering the bar with a hop. Walking over to the director, he raised his arm to say something. "I'll be in my trailer if you need me."

"Clank, baby, that was a great scene! Keep up the good work. By the way, for creative purposes, I'll be assigning you your very own vid-bot cameraman really soon. The little guy will stick with you through thick and thin, keeping track of your talent in case you do something cool outside the studio. More details on your cameraman later. See you after the break."--the director smiled broadly--"Ever since we got rid of that ungainly 'Jeeves,' things have been better for you. Right?"

The small robot shook his head a little. "I do not know if that is entirely true."

Clank exited the bar set through a side door and walked a short trail to his big trailer.

Inside his trailer, the interior was large. Star power managed to fill the massive space inside with a large entertainment set, posters, trophies, a powerful sound system, three-piece bedroom set, and a personal robotic masseuse. Life seemed good. Despite having all of these things, something felt out of place, or missing, and the old pictures he kept in a display case filled reminded Clank who he really was before stardom.

"Hello, Clank," said his masseuse. "Come over here and let me work out that firm chassis."

Clank giggled. "Heh-heh-heh-heh."

He walked over and plopped down onto his oversized mattress, allowing the femme bot do her special thing on his shoulders and back. While she worked her magic, he reached for the remote to his holo-monitor, pressed a button, and appeared an intriguing infomercial.

"Do you think you have what it takes to be in the same arena with two of the fiercest warriors in the galaxy? Do you think you're man enough? Do you think you're cool enough? Do you think you're hero enough? If you answered yes to any of these, then you're a big, fat liar! Step into the Megacorp Games, sponsored by Megacorp, and brought to you by Mega-View. Located conveniently at the Maktar Nebula and on Joba, we have two challenges for you--the Megacorp Gladiators and Mega-Racing. Enter the Megacorp Gladiator games, featuring our Bio- and Robotic-Competition."

"Heh-heh-heh-heh. This certainly replays memories."

"If you can get through our new and improved gladiators, then you'll be eligible for the main event with Chain Blade (as Chainnnnn Bladeeeeee). If you prefer machine over flesh, then check out the B3 Brawler (as Brawler-Brawler-Brawler). New and improved from the older version, this baby won't show any mercy, so there's no consolation prize...except deathhhh. Ha-ha. So enter to win bolts, bolts, and bolts!"

"I wonder if Ratchet still competes in these competitions for some extra bolts?"

The infomercial announcer continued, "Ha-ha-ha! And from the Maktar Arena, here's a showing of the newest champion."

The infomercial switched over to show exclusive footage of the Maktar champion, a feminine warrior in black armor, smashing and thrashing the competition into mince. To Clank, the warrior appeared tall, mysterious, and wonderfully appealing. A notion came to mind as the remaining highlights of the champion's battle drew to a close, and then the commercial flashed the name of the winner.

"There you have it, folks. Dark Angelllllll--the first female contestant winner. Try to shake a stick at her and she'll bash ya something vicious. Haha."

The infomercial concluded and Clank turned off the holo projection.

"Is that exciting news or what, Clank?" asked the masseuse, scratching his back with a sharp finger to tease him and creating a screeching noise.

"It most certainly is. I believe I should relay this to Ratchet. Perhaps he will be interested in competing in the Megacorp Games once again just to see how good this new champion really is?"

Clank turned to a small holo-screen to his side that sat on a night stand. Pressing a digital, touch-sensitive button, the screen enlarged, and then a list of contacts propagated. Among the many names, the first on top was that of Ratchet's. With a simple touch, the lombax's name flickered, and then a new screen popped up and dialed the galactic number. A little phone icon rattled, showing that the call was being made, but there was no answer.

"Hm, where could he be?"