Training

Hall of Heroes, Metropolis, Kerwan

Brax led Ratchet and Clank through the corridors of the Rangers' HQ. The walls were intermittently covered with the Rangers' symbol - a rocket inside a blue circle, both atop a planetary ring - and advertisements of various Gadgetron weapons. The Rangers' symbol adorned the sign outside every door along the corridor, and there were Gadgetron stickers everywhere. Ratchet was looking around in wonder, still unable to believe this was real.

"Proper Ranger training usually lasts about a year," Brax explained, as they turned into another corridor, "but we've been cleared to go after Drek in three days. That means you two are getting the accelerated course!"

"We're gonna be trained by Brax Lectrus?" Ratchet rhapsodised. "The guy's a legend!"

Clank, however, was not so happy. He felt he should be; he'd reached Metropolis and reached the Rangers in time to help them, with help from Ratchet, and warned them about Drek. But as he looked at Ratchet, he realised there was something he needed to know.

"Excuse me, Mr Lectrus," he said; Ratchet was too busy imagining himself fighting as a Ranger to notice. "Ratchet tells me he's a friend of yours."

Brax laughed. "Said that, did he? Well, he's certainly a fan of us, but frankly, we only met yesterday, and we thought him an unworthy candidate to join us. Friend, indeed…"

Clank stopped in his tracks, shocked. So Ratchet, the one who had helped him, had lied to him? How could he…? It did not make any sense. Did Ratchet not know the value of honesty? Did… did he really care about Clank?

"Hey, little guy, you coming?"

Clank looked up. Brax and Ratchet had walked on ahead a little, only to realise Clank had stopped.

"Err, yes, of course," Clank stammered, hurrying to catch up.

"You okay, pal?" Ratchet asked anxiously.

Clank looked up at Ratchet, his expression confused and rather hurt. "You lied to me, Ratchet. You said the Rangers were your friends."

Ratchet's heart skipped a beat. "What?" he wondered evasively, hoping to deflect the subject. "I think you're quoting me out of context."

Clank pressed a button on his chest. His grill opened and Ratchet heard his own voice.

"…I'm, err… familiar with the Rangers. I'm sort of a friend of theirs, you might say…"

"Do you record everything I say?" Ratchet demanded, slightly annoyed.

"Do you record everything I say?" was his answer.

Ratchet realised there was no way around it. "Okay, so I told a little white lie. What difference does it make?"

"How can I trust you if you are not fully honest with me, Ratchet?" Clank asked. He looked more disappointed than angry.

"Hey, it wouldn't happen again," Ratchet replied casually. If he felt guilty over lying to Clank, it was momentary; he was too excited to get started on his training.

"Okay," Clank replied slowly, though his optics remained narrowed.

"Come on, you two!" Brax broke in. "We don't have time for friendly drama right now. Save that for later, okay?" He turned to Clank. "For the time being, Captain Qwark's decided to put with something more, um…" He struggled to think of the right word. "…up your alley," he finished.

"Okay," Clank repeated, his now slightly disappointed gaze still on Ratchet.

In the Galactic Ranger Intelligence Centre (which was also the broom closet), a female Ceratos, with pale blue skin, purple markings, and mauve horns protruding from her head, was playing a first-person shoot-em-up holo-game. She seemed to be having a blast.

"That's right, Lives-At-Home472!" she gloated. "What's the matter? Don't like someone getting one up on your arsenal? You gonna cry to your mommy?" She laughed derisively, but then paused the game, thinking. "Wait, are you actually crying?" The last thing she wanted was to actually upset someone. She'd seen that too much in high school.

"Hey, Elaris!"

Elaris started, and quickly put down the controller, before turning to meet her fellow Ranger and the new recruits.

"Hey, Brax," she greeted. She looked down at Clank. "Is that my new assistant?"

Clank was still frowning at Ratchet, but he snapped out of it.

"Greetings," he said. "Your office is, err…" He glanced at a mop propped against the wall. "…most impressive," he finished, trying to be polite. Elaris 'hmmmed' in response.

"Elaris is in charge of developing our gear and providing tactical support," Brax explained.

"Usually, it's the former," Elaris clarified. "The Rangers are the 'shoot first, think later' type of people." She snorted, before remembering who was in the room with her. "Sorry, didn't mean to sound like that."

Luckily for her, Brax was too busy twirling his Ion Blaster to fully register what she'd said. "Like what, now?"

Elaris felt a little relieved. The last thing she wanted was to be thrown out of the Rangers. How else was she going to ensure they didn't lose their tactical edge completely, little though it now was? She knelt down to Clank.

"Come on, I'll show you around," she offered.

Brax turned to Ratchet. "Let's go, cadet," he instructed. "Time to make you a Ranger."

Clank turned as Ratchet and Brax left. Ratchet quickly looked back to say blithely "I'll see you in a bit!" to him, before he disappeared back into the corridor.

"See you later, Ratchet," Clank replied, rather awkwardly.

Elaris, noticing nothing, simply said, "We're going to have so much fun!"

Brax brought Ratchet to a large room. "Well, good luck, rookie," he advised, slapping Ratchet hard on the back and sending him staggering forward into the room. "You're gonna need it!" And the door shut behind Ratchet.

Ratchet walked slowly forward, feeling simultaneously like grinning and shaking.

"Welcome, cadet!" Captain Qwark's voice greeted. "Please step onto the platform in front of you."

Ratchet looked down to see a platform built into the floor. The moment he stepped onto it, it rose up, suddenly, almost off-balancing him. Before him, Captain Qwark, Cora, Brax, and a few robots stood on the other side of an observation window.

"Let's get you into your new Gadgetron Protosuit!" Qwark declared, pressing a button on his wrist.

From Ratchet's belt, a blue suit of armour similar to Cora and Brax's materialised across his body, forming a cuirass, pauldrons, gauntlets, grieves, a sheath for his tail, and a helmet with a visor. This amazed Ratchet.

"The Gadgetron Protosuit is the most advanced combat armour of the market!" Qwark explained, sounding very much like a vendor. "And it comes in all the latest colours, which can be purchased from armour vendors for a reasonable price. Galactic Rangers pay a little extra."

Cora and Brax rolled their eyes, but Ratchet whispered, "Sweet!"

"The neuro-sensor in your helmet reads your thoughts and tele-quips the desired weapon into your hand," Qwark went on.

"You've shown yourself capable with the Bomb Glove and Pyrocitor, from what your friend Clank says," Cora noted. "But that's only two weapons. You'll need more than that to prove your worth as a Ranger! No one gets in easily!"

"Now, now, Cora," Qwark eased, "let's go easy on the rookie!"

"Like you went on easy on me…" Cora muttered to herself. She turned back to Ratchet. "We'll start with the basic weapons. The more powerful weapons, like the Devastator and the Tesla Claw, will come later. Try the Ion Blaster first."

Ratchet turned towards a stash of weapons mounted on the wall nearby. He extended his right hand, focussing on the large, black pistol with orange and red trim and a circular muzzle.

Nothing happened.

"Come on, rookie!" Cora urged. "Use your brain for once!"

Ratchet gritted his teeth at this. "Just watch me, lady!" At last, the Blaster vanished and then materialised in his hand.

'Ion Blaster equipped,' a computerised voice in Ratchet's helmet announced.

"The Ion Blaster is the primary weapon of the Galactic Rangers," Qwark announced, just as the Gadgetron Help Desk gave the same information. "With an automatic targeting software and rapid-fire action, it can take out lightly-armoured enemies and perhaps soften up tougher foes for you."

"See if you can hit the targets," Cora offered. A number of painted targets rose into sight across the room from Ratchet.

"I could do this in my sleep!" Ratchet quipped. He took aim with the Ion Blaster, which was pretty easy, and pulled the trigger. Yellow bolts of energy spilled from the barrel at a remarkable rate. Ratchet staggered backwards from the recoil, and shots went everywhere.

"Hey, hey, hey, watch it!" Qwark cried. "We just cleaned this room!"

"Sorry!" Ratchet exclaimed, releasing the trigger and reorienting his aim. "Not used to this sort of thing." He hoped that wouldn't be a black mark against him. If he got thrown out now, he didn't know what he'd do.

This time, his aim was better, and he even moved the blaster from side to side to create a stream of shots that hit the targets in different places.

"Huh, beginner's luck," Cora scoffed. "But that's not enough for the enemies! They won't let you get back up so easily!"

"Gee, thank you, Captain Obvious!" Ratchet retorted. "It's not like I've never had a fight in my life before-oh wait!"

'What is her problem?' he thought irritably. 'She's worse than a Horned Toad with scale rot!'

"Now, now," Qwark intervened. "Let's just keep going with the weapons' training, okay? Next one!"

With each weapon, Qwark and the Help Desk provided a brief summation.

"The Proton Drum is perfect for crowd control; a single orb knocks enemies back, allowing you more time to take them out with another weapon. You can even use it to give yourself space when people are giving you hassle!"

A capsule filled with green liquid and three pulsing 'claws' shot an orb at advancing dummies, similar to those Ratchet fought on the Veldin training course, blowing them back several feet. Unfortunately, Ratchet was also knocked off the platform.

"Sorry!"

"Sorry doesn't do the job, rookie!" Cora criticised.

Ratchet climbed back on to the platform. "Well, I'm sure it does the job with reasonable people..."

"The Pixelizer was inspired by classic holo-games; using light technology, it can temporarily convert enemies into blocky, two-dimensional, pixelated holo-game characters, too stiff and limited to react for a few seconds. A nice blast of nostalgia while you're blasting apart your enemies!"

The dummies caught in a blast of green light suddenly became very much like some of the characters in the old holo-games Ratchet played as a cub, and still occasionally played now. Ratchet grinned at the memories as he summoned his Bomb Glove to shoot them to pieces.

"It may feel like a holo-game, but there's no extra life here," Cora quipped.

"Shame," Ratchet replied casually. "Guess that explains why you've got nothing better to do!"

"The Pyrocitor, as you likely already know, is capable of streaming flames up to 1000° Celsius. Excellent for roasting enemies around you by spinning on the spot, and also good for cooking s'mores; though it's advised you turn down the heat on that one."

Ratchet gyrated on the spot to create a wall of fire around him, to protect against the dummies that tried to swarm him. At first, it was successful, but he didn't realise until too late, that one of them had bombs handy. The resultant explosion blew him off his feet into the glass window through which the Rangers were watching.

"Heh, heh, sorry," he chuckled, looking at Qwark and Brax, and ignoring Cora. "How am I doing?"

"Poorly, in terms of handling weapons," Cora commented idly, before fixing him with an icy glare. "At getting on my last nerves, though, you're going just fine!"

"Okay, okay!" Qwark cried, somewhat nervously. "Let's... let's just keep calm, people, heh, heh, heh... Ratchet, you're doing great. Keep it up!"

Ratchet grinned as he pushed off the window and landed back on the platform. "See, that's how you welcome a newcomer!" he smiled at Cora, whose face flushed red with something between anger and frustration.

But by the time Qwark called an end to Ratchet's weapons training, the Lombax and Markazian was glaring holes through each other. As Brax led Ratchet to the next part of the course, Ratchet deliberately held his head and tail high.

Brax took Ratchet outside to the back of the Hall of Heroes.

"Good job with the weapons, overall, Ratchet," the Khegral congratulated. "Good to see what we saw back on Veldin wasn't just luck."

"Well, I've been familiar with Gadgetron's devices for years," Ratchet grinned confidently. "But what is Cora's beef with me?"

Brax shrugged. "Eh, I don't know. She's quite amiable, usually. But worry about it, okay?"

"Right," Ratchet conceded. "So, what next? HALO jump into enemy territory? Sub-orbital combat training?" He posed dramatically with his fists.

"In time, rookie," Brax eased, and Ratchet lowered his fists, slightly disappointed. "Next up is basic training."

He pointed behind Ratchet, who turned to see a large structure towering above him.

"The Captain and Helga designed this fitness course to help us reach our top physical condition. I must warn you, though; Helga's always adding something new to it, to keep us on our toes, as she says. Good luck!"

Ratchet grinned. He had been more than lucky so far! True, with some of the weapons, his luck had faltered, but that didn't matter. He had a course to do.

"Bet for you, this must be a breeze compared to Dreadzone, eh-?"

"Do not mention Dreadzone!" Brax snarled, causing Ratchet to flinch. "Just… just get going, okay?"

"Hey, take it easy, big guy," Ratchet relented, as he began running towards the course. "I meant it as a compliment."

As he approached the tower, Ratchet noticed a Qwark animatronic, rather like the kind that might greet visitors to a theme park.

"Greetings, cadet!" the animatronic said. "And welcome to the Captain Qwark Fitness Course. Here, we will test your physical strength, speed, and… uh… thinking strength! Simply make your way to the third island of this course to win, and you will receive a prize from our head trainer! Good luck!"

"Why is everyone constantly wishing me luck?" Ratchet wondered to himself. In a place like Solana, luck was hard to come by, and he had been given more luck in the last two days than he'd ever had in his whole life.

"Gadgetron is not responsible for sprains, broken bones, snapped tendons, bruised egos or accidental death incurred during the course," the animatronic rambled off.

Ratchet took no notice. He started forward, hopping nimbly across the artificially placed rocks that led up to the first level of the tower. Upon reaching it, Ratchet next faced two walls placed closely together.

"Tic Tac, eh?" Ratchet commented. "No problemo!" He took a running leap at one wall, bracing his muscles as he did so. The moment his hands and feet made contact with the surface, he pushed off, turned in mid-air and made contact with the other wall. He repeated this move until he scaled the top with ease.

"I could do that in my sleep!" he boasted to himself. Pausing only to break open a few crates and collect more bolts, Ratchet proceeded around the tower, reaching a second set of parallel walls that climbed even higher. This, too, Ratchet skimmed without difficulty. A second animatronic was waiting at the top.

"Congratulations on completing the Summit of Justice!" it praised. "Your quadriceps must be burning with righteousness! And pain!"

"I got both, and it feels so good!" Ratchet grinned.

Next to the animatronic was a zip line that led to the second island and the second part of the course. For a moment, Ratchet wondered how he was going to use this. There didn't seem to be any zip line equipment on hand. Then, he had an idea. Unhooking his Wrench from his belt, Ratchet placed the shaft over the line, gripped one of the jaws in his left hand, and pushed himself off.

"WOO-HOO!" he yelled in excitement, as he whizzed over the abyss. I have to say, I'd be scared stiff going on a zip line with the ground out of sight, but as someone who had handled steep gorges and ravines frequently on Veldin, Ratchet honestly found it exciting. The zipping only lasted a few seconds, but it was some of the best Ratchet had experienced.

On the second island, a third animatronic was waiting.

"It's time to ascend the Tower of Power! Here, you must leap from platform to platform. But tread lightly! These platforms will shift from one position to an entirely different position without so much as a warning!"

"Without a warning is what I like best!" Ratchet commented, starting to leap nimbly up the Tower platforms. The third platform was moving in and out of the wall at a regular basis. As Ratchet leapt over it, it slid back inward, but he jumped easily to the next level. Around the corner, he found two platforms moving in and out in unison. As the Lombax leapt forward, both began to slide in. There was a brief tantalising moment where Ratchet worried he might slip off the second one, but he kept his eye on the prize, as he moved on. It was honestly easier with the third pair of moving platforms; as one slid inward, the other slid outward, so it was simply a case of Ratchet traversing the first as it slid in, assured the second would be wide open.

It was with the next set of obstacles that Ratchet had significantly less ease. It was essentially Tic-Tac again; only this time, the walls required slid in and out, so the key was getting to the top before Ratchet ran out of room. Eager to test his speed, Ratchet wall-jumped just as the walls began to retract. This proved to be a mistake, as Ratchet miscalculated his jump for just a second when he was near the top and fell back down. Were it not for the Protosuit, Ratchet might have suffered multiple fractures at the very least; as it was, he landed hard on his back. He was going to have some lovely bruises.

"Ouch!" he groaned. Pausing only to utter a few choice obscenities, Ratchet struggled to his feet again. No way was he giving up now! He simply had to try something different. As the walls began to extend again, Ratchet started his wall-jump, going back and forth so fast, it was almost dizzying! At last, he scrambled over the top.

"Yes!" After that, he scaled two more moving platforms, and came to another set of retracting walls, where he simply repeated his trick with the last two.

"Congratulations!" called a fourth animatronic. "You've conquered the Tower of Power!"

"Like there was any doubt I would," Ratchet mused smugly.

"Head to the third island to receive your prize!" the animatronic told the Lombax.

Ratchet had every intention of doing so, but first, he turned towards a few stacks of crates nearby. One crate in particular drew his attention: a glass crate containing a sphere of what appeared to be glowing streams of energy.

Hefting his wrench, Ratchet smashed open the crate and the streams were drawn to him. In seconds, the aches in his back faded away, and the dents and scratches the Protosuit were buffed out.

"This is why they invented Nanotech," Ratchet sighed.

Nanotech was basically countless tiny nanomites or nanobots that could be drawn into living organisms to accelerate their body's healing process, or into functioning technology to affect repairs.

After breaking the other crates and collecting the bolts, Ratchet went over to a second zip line, hooked his wrench over it and rode it down to the third island, where Helga was waiting, doing jumping jacks. As Ratchet leapt onto the platform, the Valkyrie stopped and frowned.

"Listen up, you lardball!" she boomed. "That vos the most pathetic display I have ever zeen on that obstacle course!"

Ratchet was surprised by this reaction. He knew Helga was critical, but this seemed excessive.

"Whadaya mean? I completed the course!"

"Ja, but it vos veak, veak, veak!" Helga snapped. "I could devour that course for breakfast in my day, blindfolded!"

"Huh, bet that wasn't all," Ratchet muttered.

"Vat vos that?!"

"I said, bet that why's you're so tall!" Ratchet amended quickly.

"Vell, if it vos up to me, you vould drill, drill, drill for the rest of the day!" Helga went on. "But Brax and Qvark are impressed! Ha, those fools! Und vurst of all, they vont me to give you a price for that abscheulich performance!"

Ratchet's eyes lit up in intrigue. "Cool, what is it?"

"A Svingshot," Helga snorted, "zo you und your robot friend can svay to and fro like little inzects!"

Ratchet was excited. "Alright then, let's see it!"

But Helga shook her head. "Ah, ah, ah, ah, not zo fast! Zince you disgraced my obstacle course, I'm doing to make you pay for it!"

Ratchet's spirits plummeted. "What?! That's my prize from the Rangers! It's not fair!"

Helga just tutted. "Too bad, life's not fair. Now, vun thousand bolts; cough up!"

Scowling, Ratchet raised his Bolt Magnetiser to meet Helga's own, and made the payment. It's like how you'd use a credit card to make a transfer of money.

Helga produced the Swingshot, a grappling hook that could be worn on the wrist, and handed it over.

"I bet Qwark uses it this thing all the time," Ratchet rhapsodised, as he slipped the Swingshot onto his right wrist.

"Pah!" Helga snorted. "Real men could sving about vithout zilly toys like zat!"

Ratchet ignored her, focussing more on the Gadgetron Help Desk announcement that was speaking inside his helmet.

"Congratulations on your new Gadgetron Swingshot! Use it on standard Versa-Targets. Just point and fire."

Ratchet turned to observe two such Versa-Targets. One was a spinning orb with two green circular marks; the other was two orbs with yellow marks joined by a metal bar.

Helga, meanwhile, ambled over to a waiting air taxi. "You make me zick!" she shouted, as she soared away.

"You certainly will be 'zick' if you don't watch that attitude, Miss Critical!" Ratchet muttered. He took aim with the Swingshot at the green Target: a hook shot out, latched on and Ratchet was reeled in towards a raised platform, identical to the one he and Helga had been standing on.

"Sweet!" Ratchet simpered. Next, he aimed for the yellow targets, and the Lombax was seriously tempted to do a jungle cry, because this time, he swung across the open space between two platforms. Just as he landed safely, Ratchet heard Brax's voice in his ear.

"Well done, Ratchet! You completed the course in record time for a beginner!"

"Really? I'd never have guessed, given Helga told me I was 'veak, veak, veak!'"

"Eh, don't take it personally. She finds fault in everyone; except herself, of course. She once called me a dirty slob because I got a few specks of dirt on my clothes."

"What a shock!"

"Anyway, I'm sending you an air taxi to bring you back," Brax informed, and Ratchet heard buttons being pressed. "Your little friend will need a few upgrades of his own before our first mission."

Ratchet grinned. His training was complete. He was now officially a Galactic Ranger. It was time to make his mark and earn his place in the galaxy.