First Ratchet and Clank fic! Let me know what you think!
Just got curious about Lombax society and came up with my own version of it. Leave a like if you want me to continue the story!
Hope you enjoy it!
On the day everything changed, Malea Hillax got up as per usual.
She brushed her teeth, put her gray hair into a bun, wondered if she should dye her fur to look more her age, then put on her HTA uniform before breakfast. Trying her best not to grimace at the pressure the uniform held within the cloth.
HTA. Heir Training Academy. The lives of over nine thousand Lombaxes rested on her success at this place.
"MISS MALEA!" screamed up a shrill voice. "AN HEIR MUST ARRIVE AT BREAKFAST BEFORE IT IS SERVED!"
It was Traca. The senior attendant for the Hillax head family.
Malea had to stop herself screaming back. Heir's do not yell down the stairs. They walk into a room with a presence then state what needs to be said.
She knew none of the actual leading clans paid attention to this nonsense. But the academy did. And it was the academy who put forward the heirs for the leading clans to choose from.
So she put on a large smile and trotted downstairs towards the breakfast table with a large screen in front for viewing purposes. Traca frowned at her arrival, her deep brown fur darkening around the wrinkles of her eyes. "Fifteen minutes until breakfast, Miss Malea. You know to arrive at least twenty."
"Yes, Traca," said Malea.
She stood behind her seat in silence as Traca pressed the holovision remote, revealing the familiar grinning face of Newscaster Arnold Haritz of the Braxen Clan. His warm, booming voice speaking from the screen.
Good afternoon,
More rumors abound as dimensional anomalies continue to be recorded in the areas owned by the Forrestier clan. This time centering on the Trillium mine in sector 14C near Hillax territory.
No response has come from higher clan members or Lord Forrestier himself, only local enforcers stating that all is under control and the recent shift in Forrestier personnel is due to preparation for interdimensional attack - though they doubt any will be happening.
In other news, the Polivier and Ventore clans have announced a first stage marriage alliance between their heirs Mr. Tarvi Polivier and Ms. Humali Ventore. Smaller clans hope for the success of the union, though the two have yet to call themselves a couple.
That is all for breaking news. Now onto Jezebel with the weather!
Humali and Tarvi – now that was a match she didn't see coming. What Malea knew of the two from the HTA was that Humali was decorated as a near genius while Tarvi…
She sighed. The Polivier heir thought much higher of himself than his capabilities would suggest.
"So…" said Traca, eyes arching. "What do you make of the news?"
"The Forrestier clan is the only one with the technology and manpower capable of handling dimensional threats. It is best we leave them to assess the situation despite it being close to our territory. Then there is the potential union between the smaller medical technology clan Ventore and the agricultural clan Polivier. An interesting union, albeit one with no immediate gain – but allies are important amongst our small clans so it can't go unnoticed."
"You do not think it is a love match?"
"I know them at school. It would surprise me if an engagement is announced."
"I see… well, then good work."
Wait… Wait! Are you serious! Is the camera still rolling?
Malea's eyes lifted back to the screen. Arnold held a hand to his ear piece and began sweating.
This just in!
Two Lombaxes were found at the dimensional anomaly. They don't speak Lombax and are believed to be survivors from the home dimension.
Both Malea's and Traca's eyebrows shot up at the news.
Their identities have not been released to the media for privacy legalities. However, one is confirmed male and the other female – both in their early twenties. They have currently taken refuge with Lord Dexivier who found them while investigating the anomaly. Both are receiving a thorough health check as we speak.
Psychologists have been dispatched from Clan Ventore to assess their mental wellbeing. All we know is that they lived isolated from other Lombaxes in a hostile dimension and such situations have not been well documented in Lombax history. However, Lord Dexivier is on record stating that he is confident they are capable of assimilating to life with us and that they pose no threat.
The screen flickered to a large Lombax in his mid-sixties clad in the black and gunmetal Dexivier armor. He was speaking into a reporter's microphone and showed off an ear to ear smile.
'They dropped their weapons the moment they saw we were Lombaxes and appeared scared despite being prepared to take on my entire squad mere moments before. Both are intelligent and skilled, if a bit understandably weary. They were determined enough to find us, therefore they could easily find a place among us.'
The screen turned back to Arnold, who had regained his composure and now stared directly at the camera.
We will keep you updated on their progress as more information is obtained! They have taken a DNA test to confirm their clan identities and results will be in soon. Thank you!
Traca turned it off. Unusually silent. Staring at the screen with teary eyes.
"I can barely believe it…" said Malea while shaking her head awe. "That's incredible! I think we just witnessed Lombax history!
"It's unheard of… I do hope they are okay. And they're your age Miss Malea! Poor dears must be in a state…" Traca cupped her hands together in a rare moment of weakness. "To survive such horror so young…"
Malea stilled, her brief excitement vanishing. That's right. Horror.
They came from the dimension Tachyon was roaming around in. Not just the planets or megacities her father spoke about over dinner.
She had heard the stories, of course, and seen the tears every year when the anniversary reared its head. However, like most Lombaxes her age, Malea was blessed with perfect timing. Born ten months after the event. Her brother was three at the time, and even he still remembers the screaming. For better or worse, this moment of history would forever lay just beyond her complete understanding.
These two survivors, whoever they were, would be an exception in her generation.
"You're father will be excited at this news," said Traca with a nod. "If they could survive, then there might be others."
Following breakfast, Malea said a formal goodbye to Traca (in the appropriate 'heir' manner) and left the gray coloured walls of her family home. Salt tinged her nostrils as she stared out over at the boats on the bay. Her father and elder brother would be out their already, throwing in the nets for today's catch of salt-water worm and Vamos squid.
Apparently her family use to do something similar out on open sand in the old dimension. Fishing for food amongst the quicksand on Fastoon. Her father claimed the food tasted better than what could be found here, but noted that he lost less men in water. After all, you can't swim in quicksand.
She passed the quiet streets of the Hillax town. Gray and black everywhere, as were the Hillax colours, with the odd decorated fishing net hoisted on walls and shell chimes outside shop doors. It was silent, as always at this time in the morning. The catch was active in the early hours, but Malea knew the town would come to life on her return home once today's job was done. Her family will be waiting for her at dinner and she will be able to put this 'heir' façade down for a few hours before bed.
But despite the gray, she wouldn't call the town dreary or bleak. Just Quiet. With the sole sound being the echo of her boots on the cobblestone road. That description could only be left for the Academy. No amount of bright colours could dampen the inherent stiffness of that building. A sight she internally dreaded on her solo half hour walk to the facility.
The main city could be seen in the distance with the sight of an odd vehicle occasionally flying above it. As she got closer, she could make out even smaller holocars and would pass the odd Lombax on the connecting road, usually one of the morning traders for the fishing haul.
Perhaps one day her clan would be prosperous enough for each member to own a vehicle. If she did well at the HTA.
The thought made her frown. Pressure returning to the steps as she made her way closer and closer to the large building. Constructed with every facility in mind for any possible heir that may walk through its doors.
She lowered her head while stepping past a larger, more brightly coloured academy. Designed for the born heirs and children of the elite upper class. Making sure to not take in too much detail lest her own emotions rule her head. And with those two survivors, talks about the current system will start cropping up again. Malea did not need that in her head now.
As she approached the HTA, she lifted her head once more. The familiar shadow of the iron gates moving over her as entered the main entrance hall. Gritting her teeth as she passed by the symbols of the heir lacking families
There were over a dozen leading clans. They all served their purpose. From engineering, to food production, logistics, and even finance. Together, through alliances and skill, they controlled the resources and regulations of the smaller clans by limiting their power on the council. It was, after all, more prudent to listen to a leader who managed close to a million Lombaxes, vs one with only nine thousand. The more Lombaxes, then the more resources you could bring to the table.
And, as Malea had learned in her time at the academy, resources were everything.
But what the leading clans needed to maintain their resources were heirs in the head families. Seven of them were lacking one. The only resource they could not code or mine.
As she walked past the proud crests of these heir-lacking families on the wall, she could not help the small shiver that crippled up her spine as she passed each one.
The Azalea Clan – A matriarchal clan of warriors and hunters. They manage the death worms on the perimeter and kept the dangerous wildlife population low. No heir due to Tachyon.
The Azimuth Clan – A military clan of warriors who defend the Lombaxes from intelligent threats and maintain order across the dimension. No heir due to their last leader being placed in exile before conceiving and current head family members experiencing infertility.
The Braxen Clan – A proud clan of coders, software engineers and hackers. No heir due to infertility.
The Dexivier Clan – Known for their mechanical prowess and invention skills, especially with air and space craft. No heir due to Tachyon. Has a strong relationship with the Forrestier clan.
The Forrestier Clan – With control of the mines and unparalleled engineering skills, they are considered the most dangerous of the clans. No heir due to Tachyon.
The Lismoth Clan – They manage the water supply and waste systems in the dimension. No heir due to Tachyon.
The Radox Clan – A manufacturing clan controlling more than 40% of the market. No heir due to infertility.
She grit her teeth - again. The born heirs never had to undergo such training for 'the future of the Lombaxes'. Such was the way of the world.
Moving forward into the examination hall, she could see the other apparants huddled together in the center. Hearing the words 'Tachyon' and 'luck' told her they were talking about the two-dimensional arrivals. Tarvi was sulking at the edge of the group, clearly upset no one was talking about him considering his potential relationship with Humali. Malea glanced around. The Ventore heir was nowhere to be seen.
She eyed Calaris, her sand-coloured friend, on the out skirts of the group. The only one appearing to lack interest in the discussion topic as her intelligent eyes found the ceiling more entertaining.
"Some morning, huh," said Malea as she stood next to her.
"Bit much isn't it," Calaris muttered while offering a short nod in greeting. "We don't know anything about them and the media is playing them off as celebrities. For all they know, Lord Dexivier just let in two serial killers and have made us sitting ducks."
"I doubt they are that bad, Cal, and what do you mean 'celebrities'. Images haven't been leaked yet!"
"Exactly," said Cal with a pout. "They will be…"
A loud boy from one of the various scrapyard clans interrupted them. Not even directly speaking in their direction.
"Which clan will they belong too? Surely it would be great publicity for the leading clans to ignore the DNA tests and take them on!"
"Who cares! As long as it's not mine."
Group laughter.
"True. Probably best if they handle it. Don't think anyone in my family even knows how to speak to them."
"You lot should know how to speak Polarian. I believe it has been part of the heir curriculum since you all were toddlers." The elder voice made the entire room freeze and they looked up to the balcony at a short, old Lombax, staring disdainfully down towards them. "And I would hold your tongue if I were you. Especially since they will most likely be placed into a leading clan and may be your superiors if any of you choose to work outside your current scope."
Gregorian Bastion. A high figure in the Dexivier Clan and personal friend to their leader. Also the instructor from hell who swore to trample them until only the strong remained. Malea frowned at his tone.
"Now… " he leaned forward, nose barely over the railing. "Have you done your laps? Some of the leaders are visiting today and will be arriving in less than an hour."
The news sent them all running. Malea and Cal falling into step next to each other.
Malea had only ever seen the leaders from a distance, or the occasional holovision appearance. They came to the academy to survey the current selection of candidates. An event which always managed to make Malea's stomach curdle no matter how many kicks she landed or how well she performed on the spoken examinations. They watched her and the other candidates as if they were buyers observing farm animals at an auction.
Once sweat began to stick to their fur, all candidates lined up. Standing in 5=five rows of eight, perfectly straight and ordered, staring up at the balcony as they had been trained to do. Malea took a breath and waited as the leaders strolled in one by one.
Lady Hondurea Azalea, ash fur and warm blue eyes scanning the female candidates in the rows.
Lord Jalico Braxen, the night coloured Lombax never missed a survey opportunity and his sight was set on smaller blonde boy in the back row.
Lord Quiltin Lismoth, his aging frame leaning on a walking stick. His eyes were on nowhere. Most doubt he could actually see them from the balcony.
And finally after a short wait, Lord Kaden Forrestier stepped out. Clad in his clan's orange and blue uniform, his single green eye glared down at them in fury, while the other – a scar covered indent on his right side – became furrowed over by a brow,
His appearance sent a ripple through the lines. Lord Forrestier never came to survey them.
"Did the council make you come, Kaden?" said Lady Azalea, her tone sympathetic.
"Once a year from today…" he muttered standing next to her. "To be increased to once every six months after five years. Ridiculous."
"Not all bad, my boy," said Lord Lismoth. "A least your clan hasn't started on you as well. They've started taking over my work on survey days. The horror! I'm going to have so much to fix up when I get back."
"Don't remind me…" grumbled Lord Forrestier, causing the old leader next to him to hobble over in laughter.
Malea found herself straightening under the single-eyed gaze as he scanned across the young faces below. Knowing he was analyzing any and every detail for a reason not to select them.
"Do they change every year?" he grumbled.
"Depends if they give up or not," said Lord Braxen. "But mostly no. They are a determined lot."
"Pity…"
Bastion then sounded the alarm and the drills began.
They divided. Splitting off into combat groups and safety maneuvers.
Malea tried to ignore the gazes from the balcony and focus on her movements. Her and Cal had this worked out by now. Safety maneuvers together, so they got a perfect score, then move onto combat with another partner.
A brief ringing was heard on the balcony as Lord Forrestier answer a call. "Better be important!" A moment of silence. Then he staggered. "I… I see… Is he… Leaving now old man. Does he know…? - Fair enough. Keep him steady for me. How is… okay. No… This is incredible… I'll let the staff at the compound know so they can prepare the room. Does he need anything…? Yeah… He'll let us know. Okay. Leaving now. "
He whispered something to Bastion. Mentioning 'urgent matter' and 'I won't be coming back'. He then gestured to Lady Azalea. "You'll want to come, too. Trust me. She's with him."
They both left. Malea didn't get the chance to glance at them beforehand or see whatever expressions the change in Lord Forrestier's voice caused. Not that she wanted too.
Bastion yelled out. "I have just been notified that Lord Forrestier has been called away on some urgent matters involving Lady Azalea's territory. Carry on!"
Malea was willing to bet that it was an urgent lunch break, but didn't mind the lack of the leaders stifling presence for the rest of the session.
Thankfully the two leaders leaving, plus old Lismoth complaining about his back pain, kept the display drills short and removed the need for the regular verbal presentation. They returned to their regular classes with the first, ironically, being Polarian.
….
When Malea arrived home, the salty air a welcome relief from the stifling HTA, all she could hear was talks about the survivors along the street and up towards her family home. Her father and brother even discussing the matter in the living room when she arrived.
The door was wide open, no one paid her attention as she stepped through to where the voices echoed from. Once inside, she paused at the entrance way to watch the discussion. The smell of ocean catch still lingering in the fur of her family.
"This could change everything…" said a gray Lombax with dark stripes. His smiling face a contrast to the stern expression of her father. "If they are from a smaller clan then they may be able to bargain for resources!"
"They are not bargaining chips, Dorian. The leading clans might offer assistance for their care but not much else," his tall frame hunched over. "And if we go by numbers alone, it is much more likely they are from one of the larger clans. For their sake I hope so…"
"You don't think small clan members couldn't survive back there?"
"No! Just that it will easier for them to recover in a larger clan. I mean… if they end up being one of us. We would be offering their clanship to a leading clan," he frowned. "They have the facilities and specialist treatment such assimilation will require. It would be cruel to keep them with us."
"As If the leading clans would agree…"
"They will. It's not a resource exchange," said Malea, grabbing both their attention at the door and smiling. "They have little to lose by taking them on. Besides, Lord Dex seemed happy enough with them. Worst case scenario I bet he will be happy to care for them."
Her brother grumbled. "Bet it caused havoc at the HTA."
"Only a little. No one is too concerned at the moment."
"It shouldn't be a matter of concern at all," said her father slouching on the couch. "They haven't been in the dimension for a day and are already being talked about as history makers. Let them rest, for wrenches sake! They owe us nothing!"
Malea could only smile at the sentiment. It was true, but the smaller clans will pin their hope for change on anyone. War torn survivor or an heir position. Change will happen. It had too.
The sound of light steps made Malea look up to Traca, standing with a smile behind her.
"Lord Hillax," she said, greeting her father with a nod. "Miss Malea, Mister Dorian. We should put the news on. I hear the DNA results have come in!"
With that, Malea and her brother scrambled to the couch. Her father sighing at their enthusiasm, but giving a tired signal to Traca to go through with her suggestion.
Traca pressed the remote, flicking on the holo-screen. Newscaster Arnold, his familiar face sporting a larger smile than usual, gazed out into the world as if trying to beam a spotlight. Completely unaware of what his next announcement would soon lead too.
Then it occurred. The moment everything changed.
Breaking News
"We have received an update about the two isolated Lombaxes from the home dimension… DNA tests have been taken to confirm their clan identities and it has revealed more than what we could have ever imagined!
I can not believe I have the honor of saying this, but it is a true miracle!
The heir positions have now been reduced for the best of reasons. Two heirs have returned home! Welcome home Lear Forrestier and Aquila Azalea! You both have been missed and we are grateful you are safe.
They are currently being settled into their respective family headquarters. Talk of an alliance is underway to accommodate the close friendship between the heirs with senior guardsmen already working together in order to make the transition as smooth as possible. The two consider each other siblings and both clans wish to respect the relationship. Clan members have begun celebrating new found security, safe in the knowledge that their customs and way of life will be maintained for another generation.
This is indeed a miracle beyond words! Congratulations to the Azalea and Forrestier clans! Leaders are expected to make an announcement tomorrow morning!
And there you have it! Let me know your thoughts! What you liked vs hated and everything in between!
Next chapter will focus on Ratchet and Rivet POV!