Version 2 Author's Notes (Part 1):
As I stated in the intro, this particular chapter got a big revision. The rest of my notes and the disclaimer will be at the end.
Chapter #3: The Galactic Adventurers
While Copper, Spike, and Jimmy were racing for the train platform, Blathers and his team were waiting in the original meeting spot, waiting for any calls of assistance. The old owl paced nervously in front of his troops, and he occasionally stopped to tap his foot impatiently on the grass. He grunted and muttered to himself.
"Humph. They must have completed the mission by now. Why haven't we been called to join them? Has something terrible happened to them? Oh, dear, I hope not…"
One of his troops, Butch the Rottweiler (at least, I think that's what he is…), lost his patience with his captain. He stood up and stomped over to the owl. "Blathers, will you cut it out?! You're makin' us nervous! We're already worried as it is!"
The owl halted. "Oh. Do pardon me. I just hate sitting around like this."
Just then one of K.K.'s troops, a chocolate Labrador (not a villager from the games), rushed up to meet them. He saluted to Blathers and said, "Blathers, I bring word from K.K. Slider. We've succeeded in acquiring a fleet of trains to accommodate our needs, and we're ready to start up their engines."
The curator clapped his wings with joy. "This is too good to be true!" he exclaimed.
The dog sighed. "You're right about that. The bad news is that too many of our men have been wounded. Our original mission is a failure. Now our only hope for survival is to load all our men onto the trains and retreat as soon as possible. Tortimer requests that you send your team to recover our wounded."
"Well, all right." Blathers turned to his troops. "You heard him! Rescue all our troops! Leave none behind!" The owl was going to make a speech, but a loud roar overhead drowned out his voice. Everyone looked up at the sky and saw something red whiz over the forest. The Allies began to panic.
"It's a bird!" cried one trooper.
"It's a plane!" shouted a second.
And Booker yelled, "It's a blimp! I think…"
Luckily for the soldiers (especially for poor Blathers), a certain orange bear named Pudge knew what it was. It reminded him of the Arwing model he had in his house back home. "It's none of those!" he piped up. "It's a spaceship!"
Booker turned to gape at him with fearful eyes. "A spaceship? You mean…aliens?!"
"You must be joking!" Blathers exclaimed.
Pudge shook his head. "I'm not, pudgy. From the looks of it, I think it's going to crash close by here!"
Blathers stared in the direction the spaceship had gone. He agreed with Pudge that the flaming red object seemed to be on a crash course. He didn't believe in aliens, and he certainly would never like to meet one, but curiosity overcame him. He then said, "Well, then, if it is aliens, we must greet them properly. Come along, men. Men?"
When there was no response, he turned around. To his dismay, the camp had been abandoned in a matter of seconds. The Labrador had run off to return to his team, and Blathers' men had grabbed their equipment and crept away in search of their comrades. None of them wanted to investigate the crash. Blathers was alone.
"Of all the cowardly…oh, never mind. I guess I shall go alone then. Well, here I go."
The owl marched away toward the beach, which was close to the train yard. If the ship crashed just before it reached water, he could get a good look at it. But if it missed the beach, it would sink and be lost forever.
"I hope I'm not too late," he muttered.
It seemed to take hours for him to run through the forest to the shoreline. Just as he saw the sand dunes, he collided with a chain-link fence. "Oh, my beak!" he cried. "Stupid me. I should have remembered that was there. No problem for me." He flew over the fence with ease. "Now, where is…"
It was then that he saw it.
The spaceship had not sunk into the ocean after all. It had been wedged between two coconut palms next to a small cove. Because of the impact, one of the wings appeared to be severely damaged, and there were scorch and scratch marks all over the hull.
But despite the scrapes, the ship itself was a marvel. It appeared to be a starfighter, its body a deep shade of red. The nose of it was lined with laser guns and missiles. Even the wings were armed. Thrusters at the back powered the ship. The entire ship was well designed, with mobility, speed, and plenty of firepower in mind.
"Most definitely a starfighter," muttered Blathers as he jogged up to it and studied every angle of the craft. "I've never seen anything like it before! Not even in those silly space flicks I see on the weekends! Aerodynamic design, landing gear, hover capability…this craft is the perfect fighter!"
Blathers was so excited by his discovery that, at first, he failed to notice a few details. Something was going on under the belly of the ship; there was a blue light emanating from it, and sparks were flying. And in the cockpit, there were other lights and small computer noises.
He had company.
"Thank you, kind sir."
The old owl almost jumped out of his feathers at the voice, and turned to the cockpit. And when he saw the owner of the voice, he really did jump out of his feathers!
A small robot, perhaps two feet tall (not including an antenna with a blinking red light on his head), was leaning slightly out of the cockpit and watching him with bright, friendly green eyes. The design of the joints of his face and the shutters over his eyes allowed him to make subtle facial expressions. At the moment, he appeared curious.
"Greetings," he offered with a wave of a three-fingered hand.
Stammering nervously, the owl shakily waved back with a wing.
"I am Clank. And your name is…?"
"…B-b-blathers."
The robot thought about this for a moment, and then asked, "My comrade and I crash-landed here. Could you please provide me with our location?"
"…Y-you're in Animal Crossing, near its biggest train yard."
"Clank" hummed in thought and turned back to the cockpit computers. "If only I had downloaded more detailed maps of the Milky Way Galaxy…" he mumbled.
Suddenly the blue light and sparks under the ship stopped, and a new voice said, "That should do it. But that wing…hey, Clank, run that damage diagnostic yet?"
"Wh-who is that?!" exclaimed Blathers, backing away from the ship.
Clank turned to him and replied, "No need to be afraid, sir. That is my friend. Ratchet, we have a visitor."
A figure crawled out from under the starfighter, and Blathers took more steps back in surprise.
The second person was most definitely an alien. But he wasn't green and bug-eyed; he was a furry alien. In fact, he (in a way) resembled an anthropomorphic cat. Yellow-orange fur with dark-orange, triangular stripes (think Garfield the fat cat's stripes) covered his entire body, including his unusually large ears, which were laid back (the standard position) rather than up. His outfit consisted of something like a pilot's cap on his head; an orange shirt that looked almost like armor; a brown belt with a green buckle; dark blue pants; and brown boots. He also wore brown gloves over his hands, and in one of them he held a strange-looking tool; it appeared to be a large wrench. He had light-green eyes and a tail with a tuft of fur at the end.
The furry alien seemed just as surprised to see Blathers as vice versa. His eyebrows rose, and he said, "Who are you?"
Blathers cleared his throat nervously and replied, "Pardon me. I am Blathers the owl. May I ask who, or what, are you?"
"I'm Ratchet," was the reply. Then he gestured to the cockpit. "And that's Clank."
"We were already introduced," Clank pointed out. "By the way, how are the repairs?"
"Ratchet" showed the other item he had; it appeared to be a futuristic blowtorch. "I welded that plate back in place okay, but I should probably get it replaced. The wing is another story, though. How about that diagnostic, Clank?"
The robot sighed and shook his head. "It detected an extensive amount of damage. The engine suffered much, so I am afraid that we are unable to fly until it is repaired."
The alien let out a groan. "Wonderful. What about our position?"
"Blathers has informed me that we are located in 'Animal Crossing', near their largest train yard."
"Any tool sheds?"
"I'm afraid not," the owl cut in. "The train yard is under the control of a dictator. You wouldn't be able to access any of the tool sheds. And besides that, we probably don't have the right technology to repair your ship." He gestured to the starfighter. "This is beyond anything we have ever built before."
The last half of his comment seemed to go right over the pair's heads. At the word "dictator", their eyebrows rose.
"A dictator, you say?" said Clank.
Puzzled by their interest, Blathers continued, "Erm…yes. We only know him as Big Boss. His robot army has invaded half of our country. I'm a part of the resistance group fighting back."
Ratchet sighed and rubbed his forehead. "So we crash-landed in the middle of a war-zone. This day just keeps getting better and better."
"Ratchet," Clank interjected, "perhaps if we assist this resistance in their conflict, we will gain access to the repair facilities here."
The alien shut his eyes halfway. "Somehow, I knew you were going to say that."
He went up to the cockpit, reached in, and took out a heavy-looking black duffel bag. He unzipped it and began rummaging around in it, muttering to himself.
"If I had known we'd be going into a war, I would've brought better armor and more ammo. Clank, what do we have in the ammo stores?"
The robot pressed a few buttons on the small computer on the dashboard of the ship; it had an inventory of the ammo stored in its small cargo hold. "We have a good store of Fusion Grenades and Agents of Doom. There is sufficient ammunition for the N90 Hurricane, Flux Rifle, Annihilator, R.Y.N.O., and…Dual Vipers? How did those get in there?" He tossed a suspicious glance at his partner.
A manic gleam leaped into Ratchet's eyes. "Those, eh? They might come in handy."
Clank's eyes narrowed. "Technically, they are contraband."
"Not in this galaxy."
"…I will grant you that." He folded his arms resignedly. "But please be careful with them."
The alien said nothing and began removing the contents of the duffel bag. He took a double holster with slots for ammo clips and strapped it around his waist. Then he took out the Dual Vipers—a pair of large, rapid-fire plasma pistols—and set them in the holsters. Last was the N90 Hurricane, which was the futuristic equivalent of an assault rifle. He simply set this down beside him and rather unexpectedly put the bag into Blathers' wings. The owl went down under the surprising weight.
"Yeah, the rest are on the heavy side," Ratchet said, "but I can't carry them. Clank, you coming?"
"Just a minute," was the reply. "I must store an adequate quantity of ammunition for you and cloak the ship."
Clank disappeared into a compartment of the ship, and a minute later, returned while stuffing cartridges of ammo into the slot in his middle. Surprisingly, they all fit; he explained that he had a matter-compression device (made that term up, sorry) in his core that allowed him to carry around many different items. Blathers hardly understood any of this, but watched with interest as the starfighter became cloaked and the robot attached himself to Ratchet's back in a backpack fashion.
After putting his wrench in his belt and picking up the N90 Hurricane in the other hand, Ratchet grinned at Blathers and said, "Lead the way."
With a nod, the owl began the walk back to the fence he had flown over. But since he was now lugging Ratchet's bag, it was slower going. This allowed him, between breaths, to ask a couple questions. He was fearful of all the advanced and dangerous weapons these two characters seemed to have an abundance of, but they seemed friendly enough.
"So, erm, where exactly are you from?"
Ratchet glanced at him and shrugged. "Nowhere special. Just the planet Veldin…you know, in the Solana Galaxy."
Blathers only blinked in confusion. "Err…the…where?"
"Ratchet, I do not think the inhabitants of this planet know very much about the rest of space," Clank remarked.
His friend checked their guide again, and noted his puzzlement. "…Right. Sorry."
There was a pause, and then Blathers worked up the guts to ask another question that was bothering him.
"If you don't mind my asking, what, err…species are you?"
"I'm a Lombax," was the reply.
He tried to get his beak and tongue around the foreign word, but failed. "…L…Low…base?"
"Lombax," Ratchet repeated with a chuckle.
"They are a rare and gifted race," Clank said. "The majority of them had an affinity for mechanics and technology."
The curator's gaze fell on the wrench tucked in Ratchet's belt; that made perfect sense to him. "And, ah…how did you, erm…acquire all of these weapons?" he stammered.
"Eh, Clank and I travel a lot," he replied with another shrug. "We tend to get stuck in battles. So I pick up a lot of weapons."
"He was also trained as a commando and currently serves as a captain for a starship," his robot friend added again. The "Lombax", being modest, turned a little red.
"…Fascinating…" Blathers mumbled.
Ironically, he was so intrigued by this conversation that he slammed into the fence again. With permission from his alien companions, he flew over the fence and then waited to see how they would get past it.
For a moment, Ratchet studied the height of the fence and rubbed his chin. "What do you think, Clank? Heli Pack or Thruster Pack?"
"I do not have much fuel at this time for the latter," replied the robot.
"Heli Pack it is, then."
Suddenly Clank folded his head, arms, and legs even more into himself, and Ratchet crouched. When he leaped into the air, Clank came back out, but this time he had a rotor on his head, and his limbs were replaced with similar ones. They whirled fast enough to lift both of them into the air, over the fence, and safely onto the ground. When it was over, Clank transformed back to normal.
"Extraordinary," said Blathers. "Does he have other functions?"
This query was aimed at Ratchet, but he was looking over the owl's shoulder at something beyond. He suddenly yelled "Get down!" and shoved him to the ground. Blaster fire whizzed over where their heads had been seconds before.
Having done training in the resistance, Blathers didn't panic like a normal person would have done. He rolled to the safety of the tree nearest him, as did Ratchet. Unfortunately, he was unarmed, and the tree wasn't holding up well against the concentrated fire of the robots that had found them. He leaped into some bushes, only to come face to face with K.K. Slider!
"Whoa, dude! I was just looking for you!" yelped the dog.
"And these robots found you, I take it," said Blathers.
Unfortunately, the robots saw their hiding place, and they moved toward it. Blathers gulped, and K.K. mumbled, "This is a problem."
Suddenly someone whistled. The robots turned their heads to see Ratchet standing out in the open, holding his N90 Hurricane out in front of him. A big grin split his face, and he opened fire.
The resulting barrage of rapid blaster fire decimated the squad in seconds. Blathers and K.K. had enough sense to duck, and watched in amazement as their attackers were turned into scrap metal.
After the deafening sounds of the futuristic assault rifle and shattering metal, there was silence. Then Ratchet's voice called, "All clear!" The two animals crawled out of the bushes and found their rescuer leaning against the tree (lightly, because of Clank), smiling with satisfaction. When he saw them, he blew the smoke emitting from the barrel of his rifle. Clank shook his head and muttered, "I am beginning to think you are becoming 'trigger-happy', Ratchet."
The Lombax only chuckled. "So," he said to Blathers, "those bolt buckets are the army? I don't think we have anything to worry about."
"They can be fast learners," the owl said with a sigh.
"Uhh…am I missin' somethin' here, Blathers? Who are these dudes?"
All three of them turned to K.K., who seemed to be a shade whiter in the face than normal. Blathers explained, "These are Ratchet and Clank, K.K. They crash-landed on the beach. Ratchet and Clank, this is K.K. Slider, an agent in the Animal Alliance."
"Greetings," said Clank. Ratchet gave a small nod and a grin.
K.K. regained his composure and "cool talk" as he and the Lombax shook hands. "Nice to meet ya, Ratchet. That was some fireworks show you put on for us. Pretty cool."
Ratchet grinned some more. "Thanks. Anyway, it looks like you guys have a dictator problem."
A grim chuckle was his answer. "You don't know the half of it."
"Do you require assistance?" Clank offered. "I am sure we could be of great help."
The white dog cast a glance at Blathers, who vigorously nodded his head and said, "Big Boss's robots are no match for their weapons. You've seen it yourself." Then he turned to the galactic duo. "I ask for your help on behalf of all the citizens of Animal Crossing."
The Lombax rubbed his chin in thought, and then looked over his shoulder at his partner. "What do you think, Clank?"
"You know my answer already," the robot said with a slight smile. "They require aid, and we can provide it. So, therefore, we should."
Likewise, when Ratchet looked back to the hopeful animals, he wore an adventurous smile. "It's not the first time I've traveled to another galaxy to help its people. Let's go!"
The canine musician grinned. "Alright then! Follow me, dudes! We've got to get back to the rendezvous point."
K.K., Blathers, Ratchet, and Clank raced away into the forest back to the train yard.
Version 2 Author's Notes (Disclaimer and Part 2):
Disclaimer: Now the Allies have found...erm, well...allies, in a strange pair from the distant Solana Galaxy, Ratchet and Clank! They star in their game series called...well, Ratchet & Clank, of course! I don't own them; they are owned by Insomniac Games.
Now, on to a few notes.
1) You may have noticed that I changed the description of Ratchet around to something different. R&C fans call the old description "Old School Ratchet" (it was his look in the very first game); the new one is his default costume from his latest game, Ratchet & Clank Future: Tools of Destruction.
2) In a little pickiness, I retained the weapons from the original version of the story. None of them are from "Future". All but the Dual Vipers are from Ratchet & Clank 3: Up Your Arsenal. The Vipers are from the game after that, Ratchet: Deadlocked; I stuck them in the story just 'cause they're awesome weapons. XD
3) If my descriptions aren't good enough for you, try going on Wikipedia. I found a really nice picture of Ratchet in his Future costume. (Unfortunately, I had no such luck with Spike and Jimmy...or maybe I didn't look hard enough, I dunno. If you want to look for them, be my guest.) I don't think they have pictures of the weapons, though. Luckily, the N90 Hurricane is on the cover of R&C3, and the Dual Vipers in Deadlocked.
4) Oh yeah, and from here on out, I'll try to give Clank more complex words to say, since he's a robot. (Thank you, Microsoft Word Thesaurus! XD)
As for who's coming up next...well, answer this question, and you'll understand why this is a humor fanfic: who lives in a pineapple under the sea?
