Nova picks up the completed shirt, shaking any stray threads onto the ground. The space above the chest is a soft gray. The pattern angles upwards slightly, evening out to mirror the exposed collar. At the points where the grey evens out, a thin line of silver travels down the shirt on both sides. "I like this a lot better, don't you?"

Clank eyes the piece, giving a nod of approval. "I must agree. I will wait here for you to change, so we can make sure it needs no further adjustments." The second the words come out, the woman dashes out of the room to do just that.

Stepping into the living room, Nova feels like a new person. Those same comfortable leggings are nice, but the air hitting her arms takes a weight off of her mind. Looking into a nearby mirror, she feels a bit more like the person she's meant to be. Not Ratchet, but not the Nova she was before. Something new.

The sight brings a smile to her face Clank can't help but notice. "It fits you well, Nova."

"Yeah. It does, doesn't it?"

…

With the cleanup from the sewing machine and needle dealt with, the two of them settle to their own personal tasks. The markazian scrolls through her phone, reading articles on spiritual powers and other occult things. The diminutive warbot catches up on the latest advances in science.

Nova's research is interrupted by a pop-up message at the top of the screen. Opening her messaging app, she groans at what she sees. The texts are backed up, multiple unreads from Saros. "Jeez, when did I last text him?"

'Sent 2 Days Ago' is listed under the most recent message.

"The day before I went to the Timekeeper? Oh, that's right! I turned it off first thing that morning, right before we left Veldin. Didn't want it to be tracked there. I must not have noticed the texts when I turned it back on, poor guy." She sends a quick response.

Sorry, Saros, Didn't see your messages until now.

I had some stuff to figure out, but it's all good now.

Sending the text off, Nova flips to her calendar, noting that there's 11 days left in the month. "Still got time." Pushing the thought away for once, she closes the app. The device hums, vibrating slightly with a new notification.

"Incoming holo-call from: Mendrano, Saros."

Nova and Clank stop what they're doing for the message. The call is accepted, and two robotic figures appear.

"Nefarious?!"

The robotic doctor huffs, watching the two of them on the other side of the call. "So, looks like our little off-brand hero has a new look."

"How in Orvus' name did you get Saros' phone?"

The villain twirls said device between his claws. "I have my ways, and I could tell you. Or I could leave you with this: If you ever want to see your little boyfriend again, follow this link." A button is pressed on the phone.

Nova's phone dings with a new text, a video file.

"Better hurry, Nova. I don't think poor Saros has much time!" A knowing smirk accompanies the doctor's taunt. "Those brutes get awfully rowdy with fresh meat around..."

The devious look disappears as the villain makes one point clear. "Oh, and by the way, don't bother calling the Defense Force. If I see so much as a recon ship in my orbit, I'll rethink my previous statement." Turning away from the scene, Nefarious screams at his servant. "LAWRENCE!"

The projection vibrates with the noise, and the butler simply looks up at his employer with a bored tone to his voice. "Have you considered that such spikes in volume could damage your vocal modulators, sir?"

The comment is waved off. "Never mind that! When is the closest day available in my schedule?"

Pulling an ornate planner from his pocket, Lawrence flips through a few pages before stopping. "I believe it is three days from now, sir."

"Splendid!"

Eyes growing wide, the markazian clenches her fists with a scowl. "You gave your word I had the full month! You can't just...that's cheating!"

"So I take it you'll accept my invitation, then. I'll be checking in soon, 'Starlight'! Don't disappoint me out there."

Nefarious disappears, leaving the markazian and robot to their thoughts. Frustration turns to worry the instant there's not an audience.

"How could I let this happen?!" The woman paces the floor, trying to keep her cool. A hostage situation... "When did this happen? This is bad. This is really, really bad..."

"I agree, the stakes are quite high, now."

"Nefarious knew he was my friend, that must be why he went after him." Bringing a hand to her mouth, Nova bites her finger in worry. "Oh gods, I hope he's alright."

"He will be, and that is what matters most. We must rescue Saros, but first, we must learn where he is."

"Right! The invite!" A shaking finger unlocks the screen, and the link is opened. The camera pans over a large arena, outfitted with large spotlights and cameras. A lizard-like creature Nova's never seen flies out of the building screaming.

"Congratulations! If you've received this transmission, you have confirmed entry into the Polaris Galaxy's biggest event of the season: Destructapalooza!"

The view moves inside, showing races of all kinds roaring and cheering in the stands.

"We're uncensored, uncut, unrivaled, and we can't wait for tonight's show! Join us as we welcome fighters near and far to celebrate Destructapalooza's... "

The host mumbles away from the camera.

"Wait, which one are we on again?"

He recovers anyway to finish the ad.

"Whatever, I ain't no math whiz! It's the anniversary of Destructapalooza, folks! Show up within the hour, and you can participate in the special tourney! Tonight's Prize: a brand new Hologuise Deluxe! Fully customizable to any height, build, or voice, this baby is only available for a limited time!"

The video cuts to black and disappears, revealing the text messages from before. The communicator is dropped to the floor. "This is bad. Really bad. Saros doesn't stand a chance! Oh, I hope he's had self defense classes..."

With a steady voice, Clank reassures his organic companion. "The universe can be dangerous, so it is quite common for citizens to be given a weapons permit when they come of age. I am sure Saros' parents did the same for him when they sent him to college."

The thought is a bit calming, and the pacing ceases. "So he might be able to stall for time, but he needs backup. Let's give it to him!" Grabbing her hair tie, she quickly twists her locks into a tight bun.

"Are you forgetting something, Nova?"

Clank stops her with one foot already out the door. "Hm?"

"There are many varieties of armor sets downstairs, and it would be foolish to walk into this tournament without protection."

"Guess you're right. Let's pick out some." She leads the way to the circle, it's outer rim glowing as they step on it.

The platform comes to a stop, and Nova steps into the room. "Ratchet mentioned I could use whatever I need, and right now I need hoverboots and armor." Glancing around the armory, she finds them carefully displayed. However, upon closer inspection... "I don't think those will fit." With a focused hum, blue eyes scan the shelves.

"What are you looking for?" Clank asks.

"Where'd you guys put the shrink ray?"

...

Digging through the stash, the gadget is found. Nova does her best to put on the old hoverboots, adjusting them with careful aim. "There we go, fits like a glove." The tip of the boot is tapped to the ground, confirming a snug fit.

"Thankfully, it only took five minutes of fixing your proportions!" A signature laugh accompanies the caretaker's tease.

"Ha, yeah. But it's fixed now! Time for armor." One of the generators catches her eye, a silver circle with the light below it revealing a soft blue. "Ooh, that one!"

"The Holoflux?" Clank tries to dissuade her from choosing it, but her eyes never leave the armor core. "It's defense rating is quite low. Are you sure you want that one?"

"I wanna try it on," she confirms softly.

Something about the way her face lights up in excitement causes the robot to cave. There's likely not much that can be done to change her mind, anyway. "Oh, very well. Grummelnet could upgrade its capabilities, I suppose. Place the device over your chest and press the small button on the side to calibrate it."

Nova carefully picks up the piece, trying to imagine its origins, and a wave of nostalgia hits. There's a firm determination in this armor, with a twinge of worry. Then there's a deep sense of loss, and the aura fades to nothing. Clank's stories come to mind, giving those vibes a bit of context. "Clank, I felt something again. Like before, with Alister's wrench."

In curiosity, Clank questions further. "Could these visions be lost memories attempting to resurface?"

The woman shakes her head. "I don't think so, no. I don't remember anything, exactly. I was just wondering about where this came from, and it sort of showed me. Like a spiritual attachment or something. I should try it with some other stuff sometime, maybe the things in that time capsule. Wonder what stories they could tell..."

Before the robot has the chance to continue the conversation, Nova walks off with a "I'll worry about that later. Right now we have a friend to save." Logging some theories into his memory, he follows to face the battle ahead.

…

Planet Kragg, Destructapalooza Lobby

...

Above the front desk is a huge monitor, currently displaying a fast-paced hoverbike race. The rest of the reception area has a line of occupied arcade machines, as well as rows of tables. All seats are filled with a mixture of burly agorians and Thugs-for-Less members. The two races joke about, compare methods of violence, and pair off in arm wrestling contests with each other.

"Huh, for those guys to be so aggressive, they seem to be getting along pretty peacefully." As soon as the thought leaves her lips, Nova's eyes grow wide as she ducks to avoid a thrown tankard.

The thug seated next to the agorian who threw the mug smacks him in the back of the head, too sauced to know or care where the object landed. "Oi! Don't waste the grog!"

"Get your ssslimy claws offa' me." The agorian stands up, wavering as he pushes the other one. "And shove off, ya gecko."

Insulted, the thug gasps. "I'll show you a, *hic*, gecko!" The first punch is thrown, and a fist fight begins. The onlookers cheer for their buddies, placing bets as to who'll come out on top. The drunkest of them decide that the spectacle actually looks rather fun, and foolishly throw themselves into the mix.

The markazian stares wide-eyed, keeping her distance. "I, uh, stand corrected." Looking over to the receptionist, they seem not to be surprised at the sudden drunken outburst. Instead, their computer is open to play a hologame to pass the time. "Maybe this was a bad idea, Clank."

"Do you wish to turn back?"

"N-no." She gulps, continuing more sternly. "No, we're all the way here, I can't chicken out now. I've got a friend in there that's counting on me." As the brawl continues, Nova walks up to the desk and rings the bell. Somehow, the tiny ding brings the whole fight to a standstill, and all eyes reach the center of the room. The receptionist pauses his game.

Putting on her most confident act, she gives a firm greeting. "Hello, I'm here to enter tonight's tournament."

The man at the desk leans over to see some little teenager in an armor design far older than he is. Behind her shoulder, Clank peeks over. "Well I'll be. That's some cosplay, kid. My nephew would be jealous!"

"Uh, thank you, sir, but it's not a costume. My name's Nova."

"Nova, huh?" One of the thugs that watched from afar walks up to the counter, squinting as he scans every inch of her. "Wait a minute, you're the girl from the news! The one who fell from the sky and started that bakery!"

"Yes sir, that's me."

The thug grunts in disappointment. "Wanted to take my boy to your place, but it was closed before I got the chance."

She blinks, having expected a more aggressive response. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I promise I'll open back up as soon as Nefarious is dealt with."

An agorian onlooker butts into the conversation. "Hah, that's rich! A little pastry chef is gonna make Nefarious kick the bucket? I'd like to see that!"

"Yes, actually. A rocket mechanic did it twice, so why can't I?"

The receptionist leans down to her eyes, as if she's a child sneaking into a bar. "Listen, kid. You don't belong here. Look at these guys, they've been in this business for years. Go home before you get mauled. If not here, then by Nefarious' lackeys."

"I've been well taught," Nova affirms. "I'm entering, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

With a shrug, the employee grabs a clipboard and a waiver form. "Suit yourself. Just sign this, and don't sue if you end up biting the dust out there."

Nova takes the tablet, entering her name and planet of origin, then finally signing the waiver. "Is that everything, sir?"

The thug puts on reading glasses, adjusting them as he skims the page. "Yup. Alright, kid. Head through the door, you'll see the vendors before the arena entrance. Teleport in when the light goes green."

The door opens, and the markazian bows in respect. "Thank you, sir." Taking a few steps forward, she stops. Maybe a display of confidence will steady her nervous mind. With a quick heel turn, she brings two fingers to her temple, casually saluting the crowd behind her with a wink. "Wish me luck!"

The door closes behind the girl, leaving the brutes to their own theories. The receptionist shakes his head. "What a cocky little thing, she is. Wonder how long that'll last?" To find out, a computer tab is opened to the arena's camera feed.