Flinging himself half-limply into Ratchet's workbench, Saros harshly shoves through each drawer in search of tools and parts, doing everything in his power to ignore the timer and list of damaged pieces in his mind. "Come on, where would you put it?" Muttering to himself, he allows himself a smile when he finds a metal stylus, and pressing the button at it's top-

It's a pen.

"I know you've got one, you of all people should've had one," he continues to mumble, searching further into the drawers. Click-a pen. Click-this one's a mechanical pencil, and in hindsight it being bright purple should've been a clue.

"Ha! Found it!" Clicking the button at the tip reveals what he'd been looking for; a tiny point that glows with heat. Shoving some of the loose pieces to the side, the metal markazian presses the stylus into the cracked panels of his arm, watching as sparks fly and smoke trails upwards as the crack fills in. Bringing some of the wiring to his mouth, he strips the coating just enough to roughly twist together the inner wires and weld it in place. "Glad Mom and Pops showed me those things," he grins, flexing the digits of his hand and twisting it to test its movement.

The arm glitches still; it's not as smooth as it should be, and it feels as if he doesn't have the grip strength he should have, but it's to be expected. After all, he won't complain since he's done the equivalent of duct-taping a broken arm into a sling, so it at least satisfies him for now. It feels strange and awkward to use his non-dominant hand to do so, but he equips the staff Nefarious had given him regardless.

A metallic-sounding chuckling calls him to attention; troopers just outside the garage. Pressing his back against the wall, he remains silent as two baddies enter the space one by one.

"Search for the traitor," one of them calls to the other. "He couldn't have gotten far in that cond-"

A powerful shock presses into its back, glitching out its voice and startling its companion as the first minion falls to the ground. Another strike brings down the second trooper, who watches as Saros stumbles towards the sound of explosions on the plateau.

Nova and Puppet Ratchet remain locked into their fight, each of them trading blow for blow with weaponry he's never seen before. The grip on his weapon tightens, and slowly he works closer to the action.

It launches two Mini Turret pods, and each of them dig freezing shots into Nova's sides. Gritting her teeth she steps back, gripping the Shock Cannon that appears in her hands with all her might and blasting at the turrets. Her hands shake as she charges it once more, laying her own personal well of power into a shot that seems to stun the weapon, if only for a moment. "You can't do this forever, you know," Nefarious taunts through it.

The young woman glares daggers into her opponent, her chest heaving in and out with each breath. He won't admit it, but she can hear the damage she's done in it's voice. 'I'll sure as hell try,' she thinks to herself. 'I've got people to protect.'

Having entirely lost his patience, Nefarious's shrill cries fill her ears. "Why won't you SAY SOMETHING?! A quip, an insult, ANYTHING!" Even so, she finds nothing at all to say to him. A harsh blast of electricity then slams right into the metal lombax's back, and all parties wordlessly turn to see a partially damaged Saros as the one that sent it.

Then, a giddy sort of glee paints his voice, and he happily gives another order. "RATCHET! ANNIHILATE THEM ALL!"

Nova watches as the Alpha Cannon once more appears in its hands, although it's gaze darts back and forth as if trying to decide which of them would be the more effective target to take out first.

Launching herself forward, she doesn't give it a choice in the matter. A crimson omniwrench rings out, knocking the weapon out of it's hands and throwing off the shot to miss Saros entirely and hit the rocks. It's unspoken, much to Nefarious' disappointment, but the message in her face is clear and far more blunt than the lombax would have given:

'You'll have to get through me first.'

The RYNO 5 is equipped, and as classical music rings out she lays into the puppet with every bullet in its clip. Her arms shake with the weight as she sticks with the target as it attempts to dodge the hellish spray, to try and pick up the Alpha Cannon once more. The click of an empty weapon catches both of their attention, as does the rumble of tumbling rocks.

Saros' balance falters, and as a chunk of the rock at his feet begins to crack, he backs up to find solid ground-and finds nothing but a sheer cliff face. Gripping the staff in his own hand, as well as the hair pin she'd lent him, he narrows his eyes towards the metal lombax. "Nova! Clank!"

It occurs to him that although getting closer would almost certainly get him killed, there is something he can do; something that's worked before. And so, he kneels down, keeping the raritanium pentacle close to his heart as he ducks for the closest thing to cover. "Zoni, you're stronger in numbers, right? Send our strength to them, like some cheesy movie climax or something," he adds with a nervous chuckle.

To his own surprise, the pentacle begins to glow, the whir of the Zoni's power fills the air surrounding him, and echoed voices speak through it.

Qwark lands a punch on another one of the baddies, triumphantly cheering at his own power. "Keep the change, villain!" Recalling Nova's terrified tone in their comms earlier, he takes the free moment to run towards the garage. "Rangers, keep them busy! I've got a hero to save!" He stomps onward, and finds the garage in shambles and the plateau littered with twinkling bullet shells and the dark soot of spent gunpowder and plasma canisters.

A soft humming fills his hearing, one that startles him into a booming yelp that leaves him flailing his arms defensively. "Whaah! What is that?!"

"Do not be alarmed, green one," the echoing voices say calmly. "You must assist Sire and Lady Nova," They explain, before conjuring a ball of light that points towards the scene below. He watches as Ratchet-Ratchet?!

Whatever wears his old friend's face harshly kicks Nova in the gut, sending her skidding into the dirt, and his left boot cracks Nova's hand before she can reach for the crimson wrench, and picks it up himself. Clank remains pinned to the ground below her, shaking and shutting his optics as he hears the praetorian omniwrench charge for a lethal strike.

The markazian glares at him with gritted teeth, prying at the wrench's prongs with all her might, but despite her efforts the metal remains solidly in place. "I win, Ratchet," Nefarious taunts, his own accent and maniacal tone harshly clashing with Ratchet's voice. "And there's NOTHING YOU CAN-"

It takes a moment for Nova to process the fact that a dusty orange boulder larger than her entire body now rests where her assailant once stood, and the only evidence it ever existed in the first place is a pair of metal hands and feet sticking out from the edges. "Did somebody call for a savior?"

He's pleased to see the markazian scrambling to her feet, smiling and happily waving towards him. "Thanks for the save, Qwark, you're awesome!"

"Awesome?! Thanks, cadet!" Turning his attention to the growing crowd behind him, he cracks his knuckles in anticipation before calling back out to them "I'll keep the troops back, you just finish the job!"

"Can do! Clank, do you have any ideas?" He doesn't speak, and that unsettles Nova greatly. Slowly, the metal lombax begins to twitch, and a bomb appears in its hand. "Clank?!" Equipping the Void Repulser, she sends the debris of the resulting explosion back to it's source. "Clank, please! I need you!"

The familiar hum of the Zoni fills his mind, and he does speak. "I…I can hear them," he says, and his voice seems to tremble in shock.

Widening her stance and pointing the wrench forward, she prepares to continue the fight, although the tone to his voice intrigues her in its importance. "The Zoni?"

"No," he corrects, "The others."

Only then does she allow herself to hear it too; the voice of what she would assume is one of the strongest and most beautiful women in the stars filling her mind. "Nova, Clank, can you hear us?"

Dumbfounded, the organic can only sputter in response as two other voices, far older and wiser, speak as well. "The Zoni said we could say a few words," one of them says. "Said the Rookie was hurtin, so here we are to help put that whippersnapper in place!"

"We can't put the hurtin' on Nefarious, so we're trusting you to do it, Lil' Rookie!"

She can't help it as the widest smile spreads across her face, watching as the Zoni allow their figures to appear in front of her. The whir of Clank's neck turning is noticed, and so she twists her torso to allow him a better look as well. "Miss Tal?! Cronk and Zephyr?!"

"Nova, listen to me carefully," Talwyn's voice seems to lock in, and she can't help but follow suit. "Years ago, Nefarious got a cheap shot in, slashed him in the gut."

The memory sparks Clank's own recollection of events; there was a scar there, one that Nanotech had healed for the most part, but the energy he'd used to charge his claws was experimental at the time, and had glitched out the nanites. There were times it was still sore and sensitive, especially after they'd retired and Ratchet hadn't kept his Nanotech levels nearly as high as they were in their hero days. "She is right! Aim below the ribcage!"

Another woman's voice fills the space, one that seems the kind to take charge in stressful situations. "Stay focused," she says, and the rest of her appearance materializes. "And get the Hotshot over there back to us, huh?"

"Yes ma'am, Miss Sasha!" Nodding at the advice, she grips the wrench once more. "And you! No more fancy weapons. We finish this by our own strength."

The idea seems to intrigue it.

Nefarious, however, has completely lost patience by now. "Enough already! Just finish them off!"

It doesn't speak, and watches as Nova's eyes flash for just a moment. "Wrench against wrench," she says, her eyes flashing, and it can't help but agree with the sentiment.

The Alpha Cannon clatters to the ground like a cheap toy, and a silver and blue omniwrench appears in it's right hand.

The metal Ratchet is the first to move, swinging with all its might as Nova parries each blow. Despite the commotion around them, the plateau seems to go eerily silent other than the rhythmic clang of metal striking metal, and the shifting sands beneath the two combatants' feet.

Despite his earlier dislike of the idea, Nefarious manages to send out a camera to get a better

look of the action. It's a smooth affair, he admits, one that seems almost a natural conclusion that he regrets not thinking of himself, but regardless the villain cheers on his handiwork. "Yes! YESS! Oh, it's perfect, Lawrence! Just look at him go! A master at work, and one that works for me! Oh, can you imagine the look he'd have on his face right now?!"

"It does seem to carry his ruthless side, sir," the butler agrees, pouring his employer a glass of wine. It's enthusiastically taken, and swirled around before he takes a long drink of the sparkling beverage. "It seems to be a rather even match."

"Ah, give it a minute," he shrugs, taking another, smaller sip. "She's a squishy! One that's apparently lost her mind, talking to nothing like that. She'll get tired and slip up eventually, just enjoy the show while it lasts!"

"An organic life form that has proved more than capable of subverting expectations," Lawrence says. A light grin softens his face as he recalls their conversation. "I believe there is a side of Ratchet that she held onto."

Grumbling at the concept, Nefarious sneers at his employee. "Can't change that robots have always been the superior species!"

"True, but even you have to admit that there are supernatural forces in the universe that can change the course of fate." The camera zooms in with a whir, granting both parties a better view of the scene below.

…

Nova swings low, and the metal lombax sucks in it's gut to avoid the strike. Swinging above, it aims right for her face to dizzy her once more, but manages to hit the crimson wrench's shaft. "Aim left," Talwyn's ghost coaches, and the advice seems to help. "His right swing's always been harder."

Despite the stress of the moment, she can't help but ask something on her mind as she deflects every blow. "How do you know all this, Miss Tal?"

"We used to spar all the time," she answers. "I offered it when Clank was taken, kept our training up. Every once in a while we'd get back into it; it was a good way to take our minds off things." Then she chuckles at a memory. "I remember the first time I'd pinned him; he had the dopiest smile on his face!"

"Um, that's cute," Nova blushes, but whether it's from the effort of holding back Ratchet's wrench being harshly pressed against her guard or some subconscious second-hand embarassment, she's not sure. "But I don't think it helps me here!"

The metal lombax then quickly backs off, throwing the wrench with all it's might. A flash of silver reflects from the desert sun, barely knocked away in time, and the hum of hoverboots fills the air. A cloud of dust harshly scratches at her body, obstructing her vision as a soft circular glow surrounds the markazian and warbot.

"Behind you!"

A gruff, stern voice she's never heard before but feels far too familiar, startles Nova into lifting her heels off the ground; spinning just in time into a smooth and quick 180 turn that catches a pair of metal hands before they were to pin her down. "There's a sensor in the grip," it continues as the metal Ratchet recovers. "Squeeze it, and spin the wrench as hard as you can."

There's only one person who would know that, and the shock in her voice is genuine. "General Azimuth?!"

"Yes," the voice responds quickly, as if getting the question out of the way to return to the task at hand. "He speaks well of your potential, but don't get sloppy! Now's not the time for lethal distractions!" Deciding to take his advice despite his context, she does so, and is surprised to feel the mechanism within the weapon click, leaving the entire wrench to vibrate and hum with some sort of magnetic field.

The puppet rushes forward, and as Nova twists her wrists to start a spin, the praetorian omniwrench gains speed and deflects the strike entirely. Clang, clang, it goes on, and the general praises the feat. "You're a fast learner! Now, find an opening and strike!"

She finds it; the split second where its arm is at the highest point, where its body is stretched upward almost entirely. In an instant, the crimson wrench stops, and is swung back with all it's wielder's strength-

Then Nova's attention is drawn to the cliff sides starting to crumble, sending chunks of rock to the ground below.