Ratchet looked over his ship once more, brow bent as he looked for somewhere, anywhere that could spare even a microcubit of space. But he just let his arms fall. After all this time, in spite of all those hours spent scavenging for parts, and even having the Gadgetron help desk's assistance, he couldn't get his ship to fly. Wiping some sweat that trickled down from the pilot cap Pa gave him, he thought about what the Gadgetron help desk told him.
The missing piece, the robotic ignition system, wasn't just something that he could find easily. Sure he could probably ask around the lombax embassy or even in the city for a robot with that part, maybe even order it from Gadgetron if he was really desperate and had bolts to spare. However that meant he wouldn't be able to win that bet against Uncle Petrov. Ratchet was supposed to build his entire first ship from scratch in the terms and if he didn't he'll never be able to complain about being called Tiny ever again! Sure, he might be shorter than the average lombax kit at his age but reallym he'll get his growth spurt in, one of these days, there wasn't any need to keep calling him that. So now what am I supposed to do? Ratchet thought. He guessed that he could just keeping on looking through the scrap yards of Veldin, hoping that maybe there'll be a discarded robotic ignition system somewhere. However robotic ignition systems didn't just drop out of the sky.
Ratchet's large striped ears flickered and his eyes were drawn up to the orange Veldin sky. Then something broke the serene view of the moon and clouds gently lit by the sun, a ship streaking a trail of smoke behind it and one could almost mistake it for a shooting star. It wasn't often that ships crash landed down into Veldin airspace. With a giant explosion, the lombax could see that the ship landed farther within the Kyzil Plateau. He peered around one of the thorn-trees that the lombaxes transplanted onto the planet, with permission of course, making sure to avoid being stabbed by the surprisingly sharp but bright red flexible points. There might have been somebody or something in the wreckage he thought, while small fires continued to smolder showing up as bright yellow, red and orange flecks in the distance. It would take a while for the authorities or any of the Lombax Embassy Security forces to respond. Ratchet tilted his head several inches, his forehead wrinkled as he judged if it would be worth it to go over there and investigate. Lombax nature won out and he decided to go over and see what he could do to help.
He dashed inside his garage, clear of any current work projects and went looking for the one weapon he was given to defend himself. While the lombaxes were away from Fastoon and the Polaris galaxy, they had to resort to Gadgetron weaponry for the sake of easily and quickly restockable ammunition. However on Veldin, it was mostly peaceful so extremely heavy weaponry, his Ma and Pa thought, wasn't exactly needed by Ratchet. Tossing aside on the tables some boxes stuffed with spare parts, discarded blueprints and ideas, some cheap hold-vids and a half forgotten Ace Hardlight action figure, he found his Gadgetron bomb glove rather quickly. The lombax did let out a small huff when he discovered he actually left it just near the giant poster of Captain Qwark he had up on the wall. He had just passed by one of the many large rotund water condensing towers on Veldin when he ran into one of the pest problems on this small sleepy planet. It was late morning, the time when the Horny Toads were on the hunt. The orange, bad tempered, white spiked amphibians were quite the pest on Veldin especially the way they got into the water supplies. Getting rid of some of the population was something that Ratchet didn't mind doing. If they were left to breed out of control, it'll end up with either a drafting for an open season on Horny Toads for the natives or one of the Lombax Embassy Security being assigned a clean up as punishment duty. They weren't too much of a threat alone, so as they approached he just took a good smack to their face with the business end of his wrench and sent them flying away. He did keep an eye out to avoid being ambushed, as a group of them could take even the best fighters down quickly.
Ratchet made his way over the arched white bridge that led towards the crash site, his foot steps taking on a metallic tone due to the large white metal planks bolted into the dull frame. He kept his eyes off the large abyss that the bridge hung over like always. Standing above large heights did something to his stomach and head, and the feeling of being off-balance in relation to some sort of missing weight behind his back didn't help any. When hover-booting, boarding, or even when on an off planet flight with his dad, Ratchet could deal with heights. He just didn't know why he had these unsettling feelings any other time besides those. Passing by several more moisture condensers that constantly operated to supply the most needed resource in this desert climate, he found himself needing to take a deep breath and some choice words after seeing, likely because of the crash, that a rock slide tore down some of the road. The sight of some low foliage, leaves green or dark purplish red and thin for water retention on the cliffs had Ratchet guess what was left of the road should hold his weight. Leaping over the stone ledges next to the red brown cliffs, he swung down upon the heads of more horny toads hopping around noting that this would play hell on how many people would come to his shop for repairs. As he continued to clear out the attacking horny toads, never had he been so thankful he had this wrench. Held these five years ever since that strange eighth birthday. Some stranger had let him have it after helping find it that day when Ratchet was practicing with those new hover-boots his dad gave him. When the then eight year old came back with the large tool, his dad took it away from him even as he complained that it was his now. Pa did give it back to Ratchet after a few days of making sure there was nothing funny about the wrench, something that Ratchet at the time didn't appreciate but understood when he was older. Still it did make for something to think about some nights, that this particular wrench fit so snugly in his grip and that he was aware of just about every little quirk it had such as the need for adjustment for 9 and three quarts microcubit bolts. The fact that it was a very handy tool for his business was a nice bonus as well.
The path split off onto an outcropping where one could much of the Kyzil Plateau below. There, Ratchet could see the crash site much more clearly, the small smoldering flames, the earth cracked and bent from the impact, and pillars of white smoke reached lazily towards the sky. But even so there didn't seem to be anybody except for him investigating the crash and that was very odd. While he had been making a quick pace, surely some sign of people coming to see the crash would have been around by now. Turning around, he made his way back on the main path and the arc of a former eight rocket booster towered over his head. Veldin for being such a small and out of the way place, had quite the share of junked and trashed machinery and technology deposited here. With so little in the way of actual natural resources, those who lived on this planet made sure to use every little piece of scrap that they could get their hands on. Of course that was a method that a lombax could get behind, simply because one could make so many interesting things with what people considered junk.
He made his way through the large tunnel made from the rib cage of some long ago vanished Veldin species. The rough and rocky cliff side often had several landslides in the past and the bones served as a useful shield against any falling rocks into the tunnel. As the lombax felt the desert air quietly ruffle his fur through the ribs of the skeleton, a sudden charge and smell of something like ozone sent his reflexes jumpstarting. The sudden crackle of something flying straight at him, sent Ratchet diving to the side feeling the smooth ground packed with countless roll over his side. He righted himself and what was in front of the lombax was a robot with a plasma whip.
Except that this model wasn't familiar to the lombax, hovering in the air with an electrostatic thruster. While Fastoon had supplied the outpost here with some robotic security reinforcements, they certainly wouldn't have used such a primitive plasma whip. Then again, Ratchet was only, what did they call it again? A civilian attachment to one of the scientific and research personnel, or in Ratchet's head, some scientist's kid. How was he to know what upgrading the security forces were up to? Then again judging from the slipshod armoring, and the cheap joints that no lombax would ever be caught dead doing kind of spoke against any lombax hand in this robot. His eyes widened as the sharp smell of charged electrons came to Ratchet's face yet again.
He back-flipped out of the way with reflexes driven by hours spent in combat practices and not to mention hover sports. Now he was sure that this robot wasn't one of theirs. Any one of the security robots on the planet were supposed to be programmed not to use lethal force against the Veldin populace or any of the lombaxes. The robot quickly swung its whip back and lashed out, playing a maniacal laugh clip from some sort of speaker within it. Ratchet rolled his eyes, really? Somebody actually spent bolts to put in a cheesy voice clip? Moving in, Ratchet pulled out his Gadgetron Bomb Glove. With a finger, the button in palm was pressed, materializing a small round blue explosive. Giving the bomb a good light hefty toss in his hand, he hurled it towards his assailant. Though this particular model didn't have expressional features, Ratchet was quite sure that if it had an actual face it would be wide with shock as the bomb triggered. A small explosion tore the machine apart head first, scattering it into a tiny group of bolts and other mechanical parts.
Ratchet's eyes narrowed as he made his way closer where he thought the crashed ship had landed. Who was it that brought this robot armed with lethal force here? Did that mean whoever crashed out on the plain was somebody dangerous? But then again, it looked like that they were being chased by somebody up to no good. Attacking innocent people who had nothing to do with whoever was being chased straight out with lethal weaponry never was in the good guys' playbook. Of course the maniacal laugh chip had nothing to do with it. His ears swiveled back as a grating crackle of electricity entered his hearing. At the end of the tunnel, the pathway was filled with nothing but these hostile robots. They were however being assaulted by a most surprising ally for the lombax. Horny Toads, the orange little pests were chasing around the droids, many zapped and sent flying back by the charged whips. Yet they still hopped on, landing upon cheap metal better suited to be melted down and tearing into it with vicious sharp pointy teeth. The carnage continued but the only one to profit from it would a be Ratchet.
Clicking the button in his palm, Ratchet threw his thirteen year old body into the fray. While the path was clogged up with a miniature war between the webbed and the electrical powered, none of the sides were paying much attention to the single lombax. Still he needed a clear path to the crash site so some tricks his uncles showed him came in quite handy here. The Bomb Glove, being one of the most popular weapons in Gadgetron to the point where they were given free at the discretion of the vendor, had a firing rate of two bombs per second. Most people just straight out threw one after another at their target of aggression which actually worked for a majority of Gadgetron customers. What Ratchet did was use his firing rate to further advantage. Throwing bombs further by hitting them with other bombs in mid-air. Letting the explosion knock robots and toads alike into the air where another bomb's detonation sent them flying into the wall, off a cliff or into each other.
Soon Ratchet left nothing behind in his path except for piles of smoking metal plates and the dissipating remains of orange toads. Sure he had one or two scratches from being mobbed by Horny Toads before sending him flying with his wrench but some loose crates of nano-tech soon closed up those wounds. Then before him was the cracked and twisted crater that held the wreckage of the shot down ship. There wasn't any body lying around there and the smell on the wind was just filled with oil and a faint charge that tickled his nose. It didn't seem like there were any survivors of the crash but just because he didn't find anything didn't mean that somebody wasn't there. Then again he could be wrong.
When circling around the ruins of what probably was once a serviceable ship, he then spotted a robot unit down on the ground within the crater. Ratchet came closer, wrench and bomb glove stowed away. The robot on the ground was small, limbs retracted for what was possibly its safe-mode to re-boot from the crash. It didn't seem like something that would pop up and suddenly attack though appearances were always deceiving and Ratchet himself was prime proof of that. The lombax picked up the robot turning it from side to side, the tin can for all the small amount of soot and scratches that covered it seemed actually pretty new and built to respectable quality. Giving it a little shake, the lombax didn't hear anything that seemed disconnected or broken inside. His ears swayed back and forth as his gaze didn't spot anybody trying to claim the little guy for good or bad. But still a robot in the middle of this nowhere? Even though it was a very nice nowhere where Uncle Cog and Auntie Millie lived, for a teenage lombax there wasn't much. It was something new and somehow this tin can felt right in his hands. So Ratchet took the robot with him back to his garage making his way from the wreckage over the pieces of his former foes.
Back at Ratchet's garage the lombax youth was tinkering with his scrap-yard ship. Whistling a tuneless song, still adjusting the bolts and parts on the ship with his Omni-wrench 8000. He had put the robot against a natural ledge on the ground, while he intended to see if the tin can needed repairing, he wanted to fiddle with his ship just a few more minutes. Unknown to him the robot taken from the wreck rebooted and witnessed yet again the world but now oddly different. Where he was... 'born' was an enclosed space, with stifling air and dim lighting and somehow going all his logic circuits rather sinister as well. Though there was some sort of ache, like a missing sister board within him when he had to leave in the face of that large sentry bot. Here however there was open sky, a breeze that according to his thermal sensors was within the temperature range enjoyed by the statistical norm for organic life forms. The light entering his optics was... pleasant and when the robot looked up his vision was filled with the back of a yellow furred hominoid. The began to walk up to the organic life form working on some sort of space faring vessel. His green eyes glowing, the robot took in all the characteristics of this life form and the robot's preinstalled memory banks began cataloguing through the data, wondering what sort of species was before him.
Yellow fur with stripes, large ears suited for heat dissipation in bright sun, hints of eyebrows thick and thus providing excellent against sand and glare, large feet good at distribution of weight when walking on unstable ground, lithe body type good for mobility and dexterity, and a long tail that supplied an extra center for balance with a big fluff of a tail tuft. From the observation that this male organic needed a crate to reach the ship that he was working on, the robot concluded this organic must be a child. Such mechanical aptitude at a young age brought up a match in his database, a lombax. Yet this conclusion seemed illogical the very moment it came up. According to the data, lombaxes were native to the Polaris Galaxy and the robot was sure within statistical reason that he was still in the Solana Galaxy. So why was a lombax here? The question ran through his sisterboards until the sound of the movement of the bolts and gears being turned by what seemed to be an omni-wrench entered his audio receptors. "Interesting." The robot said.
The robot observed the (tentative) lombax as he jumped up into the air, screaming a "YAIEE!" and the organic life form dropped onto the ground sending plumes of dust wafting around his body. The mechanical life form with a Zoni then went on as if suddenly dropping down into the dirt wasn't something unusual. "You're quite handy with your wrench" The robot said.
The lombax, the robot confirmed with a clear frontal view, slowly got back up and dusted the dirt off his jeans."You bet, I built that ship with it" Ratchet gestured towards the said vessel built with scraps and junk but held together with hope, prayers, rubber bands, scavenged bolts and the odd patch of sealant. To the robot however, it was an opportunity towards his self appointed mission. "Hmmm... currently I am in search of someone who could be of assistance of saving the Solar System." The robot said in cultured tones for one who was only off the assembly line for a few hours. His optics picked up a poster within the lombax's adobe. A huge man dressed in green material with a large smile on his face. Large, powerfully built, and placed within a prominent place within a young male's home. That man had the qualities attributed to a hero, somebody that could help with the robot's dilemma. "Do you know where I'll find that fellow?" the robot pointed to the man on the poster.
Some sort of expression that the robot couldn't understand changed on the lombax child's face. Ears loosely perked up, one green eye half closed while on the opposite side an eyebrow raised. "Well, he's on the radio every week. Other than that, no." Then those green organic eyes were focused directly at the lens of the robot's mechanical ones "Hey, what's with all this save the Solar System stuff anyway?" Strange, the robot thought, his tone and pitch just changed...
Pulling open the door to an internal compartment, an info bot came out of the small robot. Mouth expanding into a wide vid-screen, the horrible plan of the leader of the Blargs was revealed. Those foul aliens would be pulling apart a serene blue planet for construction of a new one for the Blarg, dooming the natives to a horrible death by sun. And at the end of the video that Chairman Drek showed how he truly cared nothing for the natives of Novalis being targeted. "The people on that planet are hosed." Ratchet said, and the robot noticed that the lombax's teeth and hands were clenched, with the body temperature and pulse rate rising. "Well, good luck getting Captain Qwark to help you. My folks might want to do something but I don't think they can take on an entire race at the moment." It would be true that the lombaxes wouldn't stand for Chairman Drek's plan but currently the embassy wasn't handled for engaging in a full scale war and who knew how many innocent people would get hurt before politics and distance could get some sort of effort up and running?
"Actually, you could help me." The robot said. "If you could use your ship to take me to the co-ordinates contained in this infobot, I might be able to gather further information there." It was a simple solution to the robot and it seemed like this lombax child would be willing to take him to the planet. But the lombax slumped and "I would like to but I can't" When the robot began to speak again, it seemed that the lombax thought the robot had the wrong idea since the organic began waving his hands in front of his chest side to side. "It just that I'm missing a crucial component to the ship."
The robot turned to the ship in question and his eyes narrowed, as the small antenna atop his head glowed gently red several times. The ship the lombax said he had built was quite fascinating in its ingenious use of re-cobbled parts, some that were mainly used in appliances, refurbished for the purpose of space travel. There was one thing missing, the robot's scanners detected, something that couldn't be easily substituted. "The robotic ignition system!" The robot said.
"Hey how did you know that?" The lombax asked, one eye narrowing at the robot's easy discovery of the lombax's problem with his ship.
"I sir am fitted with the latest in robotic ignition systems" The robot said gesturing to his chassis "My programming allows me to start any ship I choose."
"So I agree to take you to this... Novalis place... and you get this ship started for me?" The lombax said "would, would you mind after finding Captain Qwark, keeping my ship running? Until I can find a working replacement, I don't want my Ma coming after me if I get stranded on another planet."
"That is what I'm proposing, Sir" the robot said "and, afterwards letting Captain Qwark know of this nefarious plot, I do believe that I can keep your ship running afterwards, well until you find some sort of substitute, if you wish." And somewhere, somehow a certain genius super-villainous robot squishy hater started belting out another episode of Lance and Janice. But more pressing and relevant to the robot and lombax on planet Veldin was the two ships that came landing in front of Ratchet's garage. From the stiffening of the robot's limbs, Ratchet could tell the robots piloting the ships were bad news. "Deal!" Ratchet said, grabbing the robot by the arm and jumping off the crate into his ship. The small robot triggered the thrusters and the duo flew out of there, leaving two confused Blarg robots behind and the two to begin their adventure towards the planet Novalis.
Above the planet Veldin's orbit,Chairman Drek watched a hob-cobbled ship leave Veldin's airspace. "This could be a problem." While it was doubtful anyone within the galaxy had the power to resist the planet theft Blarg Industries was engaging in, the element of surprise was necessary to maintain a sizable profit margin. The Blarg politician and corporation owner turned to a large shadow behind him and waved back to it. "Take care of it for me" At the sensation of tensing and the hint of a growl Drek retorted "or you'll know what planet I'll target next..." Drek smirked as the shadow left without a word. It was annoying to have that giant buffoon reject his sponsorship offer, trying to negotiate like he had any power at all. A little background check gave Chairman Drek the advantage he needed to bring that fool to heel. With the hope of Solana in his pocket, and everything moving on schedule, Drek let himself have a giant maniacal laugh. Everything was going according plan, nothing was going to stop him now!