Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"It happens with ingrained habits that they continue to stand even after the necessities that formed them have disappeared."

-Etienne B. Condillac.

|...|

Sometimes taking on these jobs was a real mess of paperwork to review, document and report. Usually nothing as complicated as dealing with the fugitives and newcomers residing in the most important, protected and vast security prison in the entire Polaris galaxy. Signatures, review of offenses, taking statements, taking them to the facility, awaiting trial, etc.; a normal work week. That was the norm, at least until recent events.

Emperor Tachyon, sovereign Cragmite dictator, known for his cruelty and tyranny in the galaxy neighboring Polaris. Nothing more than a megalomaniac villain with too many followers and military might, he had been a threat since the first years in which he had appeared, declaring war on anyone who did not surrender to his dictum, at that time his empire, although limited and even battling fiercely against the Solarian Guard already conquered half of the planets scattered throughout the galaxy. The Guard held him back for a long time, preventing his advance to what was left of Solana, but unfortunately that did not last long. Suddenly and mysteriously their empire had multiplied their numbers, their weaponry and technology was more advanced and their power only extended exponentially to the far reaches of the galaxy. And in less than five years he had consummated his conquest of Solana.

And meanwhile Polaris had been dealing with his own problems, the power-hungry maniacs were everyday inconveniences. In fact, his own creation was made for the purpose of exterminating the Galactic Rangers, ironically, he too was a factory error, gaining agency and awareness beyond his pre-programmed capacity, managing to find greater understanding and sympathy for the heroes than for his own designation. Which is why even after the defeat of President Drek, he decided that he would help in any way he could to keep his home safe. Which is precisely why he also finds himself in this situation.

To clarify, the recent events, were something that nothing and no one could have foreseen.

Percival Tachyon's defeat or more precisely.

His bloody elimination.

|...|

As he walked through the ostentatious corridors of the fortified cells, he reviewed the information for the third time in the short period that was the morning, just starting the day and he already felt that nothing would go right in this situation.

The information was rather vague, insufficient and incomplete for his taste, there was nothing more than three pitiful lines about the new prisoner, there was an excess of blank spaces in the data, only name, species, a brief description of his appearance and his high level of mental instability and excessive violence, with a huge list of crimes to his credit. Theft, homicide, destruction of entire planets, illegal possession of black market items, mass genocide, all to varying degrees, it was too long. Not to mention that he was Emperor Tachyon's top commander. It seemed like a cruel and ironic joke of the universe the events that occurred that brought them all to this situation. None other than the Emperor's own right hand man was the one who caused his own death. No one has found the reason why it happened. The facts show that he had been in the service of the dictator for years before suddenly only six months ago and from one moment to the next he had decided at will to assassinate in the tyrant's own condominiums Percival Tachyon himself and little by little in the description of the reports, destroying and eliminating his entire empire and legacy, before disappearing and finally finding him fainting and almost dead in the most remote point of the galaxy.

There was a big story behind it, too many unknowns, not enough data.

He didn't like the way things looked.

And the most complicated part of this situation was clearly finding all the missing information in the report, it might as well wait for the investigations to be completed, but unlike many others, everything the prisoner was accused of was a clear sign that the acts had consequences. The millions affected by his crimes, demanded justice, and he could not blame them, how uncomfortably explicitly some of his most vicious crimes were described were... brutal and excessive, to use no other words.

But, you really can't judge someone without knowing all the facts of their actions, their conviction was something that would be a long time coming before a decision was made.

He hoped that with all that had transpired, the inmate would cooperate, though he found those odds very slim, to tell the truth.

Lost in his thoughts he found himself at the end of the corridor, reaching the end where the elevator was located that led to the different levels where the prisoners awaited, starting with the least dangerous in the lowest levels and descending as their crimes and sentences increased. He entered the large elevator without much trouble and pressed the button.

The last level was a special and unique area, it was also his stop.

|...|

How quiet it was to arrive almost seemed like a bad omen warning how dangerous it was to attempt this without any additional protection or any escort to his first visit. He didn't doubt the security and how strictly guarded everything inside the large complex was, but still he couldn't help but feel an urgent nagging in his circuits to retreat to the lesser levels, where there was anyone other than the icy room that represented the last level, the most guarded of all and curiously the whitest and most illuminated as well, there was no room for any shadows. It was almost sickening.

The last level consisted of a small stretch of corridor, very narrow, with a cell at the end of the last, the walls as well as everything around was fortified, the only room did not keep too much either, everything around it was covered by pads, placed as a precaution and as far as he knew, from the reports describing multiple accidents that occurred without them. The cell was unique in more ways than one, its mere construction was carried out using only the strongest, most indestructible and heaviest metals in the galaxy, to ensure that nothing and no one could penetrate it either from the inside out or vice versa. It was recognized by everyone, both inmates and guards, also considering that it was rarely used, and no one was processed in it, it was considered only for special cases.

And he had one of these, right in front of him.

If Clank was honest, he wouldn't know what he expected from the prisoner, although he definitely didn't expect to see someone so... passable.

The lombax lay on the padded floor of his impenetrable cell as if it were the most comfortable and peaceful place in the galaxy, he rested his hands on his head and kept one leg over the other, as if he were a person sunbathing on a summer day, his eyes were kept closed and his calm and sleepy expression contrasted too much with all the scars scattered all over his feline features, places so damaged and harmed where surely his fur would never grow back. He doesn't quite make it to the end before pausing to find the best way to begin his work.

"I think it would be more comfortable if you watched me in the chambers, unless you have something to tell me, of course" he hears aloud suddenly without observing him move from his relaxed posture.

Well, there was no turning back now.

Still with apprehension in his voice, he walks the last stretch before starting to speak "I'm sorry to interrupt you, but..." he hesitated trying to find the right words "as I guess you know, I need your cooperation to finish the facts of your case" not sure how to proceed before adding lastly "I need you to tell me everything you know about Tachyon" he finishes the sentence as he stops his steps, just a couple of spaces away from the cell.

Reviewing his previous words, he found that hardly and usually inmates refused to cooperate with his requests most of the time. Somehow he really didn't expect this to be a different matter, so he only expected a negative response. And it didn't take too long.

"Ah, right, that was it" he said before removing his hands from his head and pulling himself up enough to end up sitting down and with his back to Clank "you know, you don't have to be so cordial, Cans" he turns his head to glare at him, before smiling and turning completely around to remain seated facing the lighted and covered entrance that was his cell "you can call me Ratchet" he points to himself with the palm of his hand "so, what exactly do you want to know, Cans?".

He senses that this talk will not end well, they haven't even spoken for five minutes and he already has a demeaning nickname, even so, the fact that he is communicating and not keeping silent to his questions is a wise move, and he decides to take advantage and continue.

"My name is Clank, and I have multiple questions I need you to answer" he doesn't take more than a second to continue, checking his holo-screen again in the process "What is your home planet?" a simple question, he just hopes he doesn't shut down in the face of the interrogation.

He frowns along with the accompanying scar that runs across his left eye, before answering anyway.

"Veldin, Solana galaxy, over 40 degrees in summer, teeming with amphibious pests, with few bodies of water on its surface, the most forgotten and boring place in the universe, not recommended for vacationing" he jokes, gesturing with his hands as if he were a holo-vision presenter "completely destroyed, the work of yours truly" he lets out a small laugh, clearly showing satisfaction with his act.

...Now he's not sure whether to continue with the questions or end the visit, his job dictates that he has to get as much information as he can before turning around and returning to his post to report, and he remembers that he did, after all, promise that to the Warden as well.

He writes for a moment before resuming, "How old are you?".

"mhh" he thinks for a moment and swings his tail restlessly "I'm twenty, but you know, you're never too young to die."

He decides to ignore the unnecessary comments and childish behavior from now on and moves on to the next question "do you have any family or relatives?".

"Dead" he answers with excessive haste, not taking even half a second before continuing; "my entire species is extinct in fact" and adds lastly with cruel cynicism, "it's something to unsettle the conscience, don't you think?".

Clank can't stand it.

"You think this is a game, Ratchet?" he claims reproachfully, raising his voice, peeling his optics off the screen to stare at him, completely disapproving of his attitude to such a situation.

The vibrantly colored lombax looks at him, not smiling for once in the entire conversation. Clank is struck by how incredibly vacant, disoriented and disorganized his gaze is, all at the same time and is terrified by how little he glimpses and discerns of this.

But it doesn't last long enough and the sarcastic, childish lombax returns, as if he never left.

"Hey, life is a game, you just have to learn to have fun!" he says good-naturedly "Everyone has their own way of having a good time" he leans back and adopts the same position he held at the beginning "I for one, I'm fine here, it's almost a habit, really".

He doesn't understand what he mentions and can't help but deviate from the interrogation to ask: "What do you mean?".

"I've been trapped all my life" without looking at him and without moving a muscle, his tail begins to wag inadvertently, waving in the chamber space "if not on my planet, it's with the Emperor's lying parasite" he begins to wag harder "or in all the other prisons I've been in before" he moves excessively thumping the pads of the room, like an angry cat "or my own head betrays me to make me survive again, and END UP BACK HERE" he raises his voice enough to make the small, stunned robot wince, before shutting up as quickly as he started, his tail stops and lowers to the floor, softly and quietly.

He pulls his hands from his head and removes his foot from on top of the other, before finally spreading both arms apart and holding them at his sides, staring lostly at the whitish, sickly stretch that is the ceiling of his cell, before saying despondently "...this doesn't make sense".

Clank doesn't know how to handle this situation and just remains silent, desperately searching his database for a solution, he wishes to help him, maybe some words of comfort or consolation, or something, anything. he's never seen someone so... lost.

"Hey, Cans, I have a question" he says in a low, monotone voice, pauses for a couple of seconds before continuing "When are they coming to kill me?".

Clank is speechless, stunned by how calm and serene it was to ask the lombax such a question, even so, he forces himself to try to answer and not remain silent.

"What..." his voice trails off, but he doesn't relent, and tries to continue trying to keep his voice unperturbed "What are you talking about, Ratchet?" he only half succeeds.

Ratchet obviously doesn't stay quiet any longer.

"Ha, you know what I'm talking about, Cans" he tries to keep his spirits up, but fails "I've done a lot of things in my life, there's no way I'm getting out of here alive" he says self conscious, more than he ever was and doesn't stop: "besides, I think it's best for everyone, don't you think, Clank?" he smiles a little and watches the little robot for the second time.

Not knowing how to answer, he tries again; "Ratchet, I... that's really not my decision, I'm sorry" he concludes, crudely, for even if it would help him redeem himself, it is not and never would be as simple as saying 'I'm sorry', he knows.

The feline doesn't respond and the silence goes on for a long while, each of them caught up in their thoughts, contemplating everything and yet not coming up with any solution to such a situation. Ratchet is not discouraged, he knew it, he always knew it, he knew his path would end here, and that fact comforts him more than it should "You're too much of a helpful Cans for his own good, hasn't anyone ever told you that?" he doesn't let him answer and opts to go on to get it over with "well, go on Cans, I haven't got all day" his indifference returns.

But somehow he feels calmer inside than before.

Clank for his part takes a moment to consider the situation, should he end the questions here? doesn't he reflect that he already has all the information he needs? did he really need to go on and finish?

... Yes, he should definitely finish, he has come too far, he cannot finish this half way. You must not prolong this any longer.

"What was your relationship with Percival Tachyon?".

The lombax whistles for a moment before answering "Complicated" he says and explains right away "I think sometimes he didn't know if he wanted to tell me 'good job' or else try to disintegrate me on the spot" he laughs without motivation, as if it was an inside joke "but to be more specific, I grew up under his tutelage since I was eight years old, I obeyed him, I abided all the time his orders" he doesn't smile when he says this and finishes the sentence without amusement: "and as you may know that didn't end well".

"Last question" they finally get to the end, just wait for him to be honest and answer "Why did you murder Percival Tachyon?".

"I don't know." Is the only answer she gives and averts her gaze from him.

Trying to find a more reasonable answer he questions again, "You murdered Percival Tachyon because you... got fed up with him?" he states with some hesitation, trying to deduce what the lombax was clearly avoiding, suspiciously suspecting the recent unexpected events in the Solana galaxy, there had to be a coherent reason behind this.

The lombax still avoiding the robot's gaze, on the floor of his fortified cell replied wearily, "Let's just say that, well, after conquering thousands of planets and a couple of galaxies you can't help but notice some things that no one ever questions until it becomes blatantly obvious" he finishes explaining to finally offer only a smug smirk on his sloppy features.

With some apprehension at the feline's lost and cynical smile, he couldn't help but question even anticipating the resolution of his previous words "did you become aware of all your actions and involvements in regards to your past misdeeds?".

He observes him incredulously amused by such a conclusion, nothing further from reality he supposes, so he can't help but snort out loud "HA! that sounds like a good joke" he comments without remorse and continues with humor "No, not at all my friend, just..." he suddenly cuts the sentence only to reply at once: "I got bored" he says, shaping on his mouth a smile devoid of humor, almost with irony.

"Of course, and that's why in the process you also eliminated all his followers, forces and commandos, not to mention his entire empire" Clank finally exposes how counterproductive his every word and act was, even with everything he cooperated he was hiding vital points.

Ratchet unperturbed by this, did not back down "Exactly, I was just bored".

Clank has a feeling it's a question with an important answer, so it will probably take him longer than he anticipates to do the job he was tasked with. Still, he'll get to the bottom of it, even if he has to spend more time than necessary here. Because after all, that's his job, to help.

|…|

Chapter Text

"Cruelty like any other vice, requires no motive to be practiced, scarcely opportunity".

-George Eliot.

|...|

"You say we should, I reiterate" she quoted, incredulous at the diminutive robot's strange and complex request before continuing, "prolong the investigations further?" She frowns at this before turning her attention away from him and focusing more on reviewing the reports she has yet to review and approve, there was a lot of work backlogged by the recent inmate.

The robot, Clank, acknowledged that this was a bad idea, more, however, he had already made his decision and would not give up his arm so easily, so he continued to appeal his request.

"I never said to prolong the case any further" he corrects with confidence in his words and clarifies the issue at hand, "I just want you to consider all the facts before proceeding and making a hasty decision about the prisoner."

Sasha Phyronix, former leader of the Galactic Rangers and commander of the Phoenix ship, not to mention current Warden and chief officer of Zordoom Prison. She lowers for a moment the reports that keep her busy and watches him carefully, almost as if trying to see something else, probably the reason behind this conversation, the silence in her office remains for a few seconds, she leans back and leans on the back of her chair and at no time takes her gaze off the robot. Clank despite being an inorganic being is unsettled by this, and doesn't move any of his limbs for a second.

Sasha watches him for a moment and asks, "Clank, is there anything bothering you about the new inmate?" simple and truthful, as she usually is, showing genuine interest in the answer, could she have missed something?

"No! Well, I..." he began hurriedly and without thinking, and tries again; "Actually, I think that, even with the investigations conducted at the scene, I believe there is important evidence that only the inmate can provide" he lifts his own report and asks, "May I?"

Although he remembers that he does not have time for this, he agrees to listen to Clank, he trusts his judgment "Okay, I'm listening".

He wastes no time and expounds: "Based on the information I was able to get from the interrogation, there are still many unknowns regarding his past and how this leads us to the current events" he decides to pause before continuing to explain "his answers, although honest, I discerned right away that there is something, an important issue that he is omitting, we don't have a complete story Warden, I have reviewed his report, and there are only few important points that relate what the investigators theorize, happened for him to end up murdering Tachyon" he concludes but adds anyway: "But I firmly believe that none of them are correct."

The Hunt analyzes this for a few minutes and repairs on a doubt "And why would that be?".

Clank doesn't stop there and decides to express, "Well, as also mentioned in Ratchet's information, he seems to be not completely sane in terms of his psychological and mental situation, I recognize that this doesn't justify any of his previous acts, but regardless of his misdeeds, I think you know as well as I do that you can't judge in the same way someone who doesn't seem to be fully aware of his surroundings" he tries to argue with all the facts he could gather before he tackles to the difficult part of the conversation.

"I am aware of the prisoner's situation, and I know about this, I led the main investigation myself" she states what he surely already knew, so he doesn't know it is taking him so many words to hint at what he really wants to say "Clank get straight to the point, where are you going with this?" he says aware that this conversation is getting them nowhere.

Clank gathers courage to present his point and not be rebuffed in the attempt, asking whoever is above him for help with what he knows is going to happen.

"I need more time with him" he finally says.

"No, not at all" she immediately and flatly rejects his request, begins to focus again on the reports strewn across his desk "that's not possible and you know it" he knows it.

Clank insists anyway "Captain I understand I'm asking too much by requesting this, but you know well I wouldn't do it if there wasn't a good reason behind it" he states with determination and logic, they've known each other for a long time, she knows he means seriously.

She sighs tiredly, sliding her reports from her hands to drop them back into place before replying, "I know Clank, but" she gestures her hands to the holo-screens scattered around the office, all of them on the news as she exclaims, "look around you! " frustrated she forcefully grabs the multiple reports from her desk and displays them to him "more than an entire galaxy is demanding a solution from the Polaris Government, they are desperate for a trial and I will no longer be allowed to put this off any longer" she takes a breath and calms down enough to think for a moment and states truthfully as she rests a hand on her head, a sign of the incredible helplessness she has for the situation "listen, I don't like it any more than you do, but I'm on the ropes, I'm supposed to give an answer in the next few days about when the trial will take place, and it will have to be right after the secondary investigations are over" she observes the downcast face of her most faithful official and senses her distress, she is out of options, still she can't help but question: "but even if I somehow got you some time tell me, do you really think you would manage to find something that would change the facts? ".

Clank doesn't answer right away, he ponders his words for a moment and in silence, something that doesn't last long enough and decides that he has nothing to lose, except of course, the death of a potential victim of circumstance, but he won't let that happen.

"I need to try anyway" he says honestly, but at the same time with truthfulness in his words and revealing something he hadn't planned to comment on, "Ratchet told me a lot with what few words he deigned to answer, and I don't want to give up on him without even trying" he says and pauses for a short span of seconds only to finish off, "I have a feeling this is unfair to him."

Sasha still contemplating how incredibly determined a little robot like Clank can be, ponders carefully everything they have discussed so far; the inmate, the pressure from the galactic population for an answer, the impending trial, the recent events that have occurred, the role she plays and for which she holds herself accountable as righteously as she can muster every day, everything, because, in the end, she has the final say here.  Her instinct tells her that this is only about to begin.

"Okay, Clank, I want you to find the whole story on this case, I'll buy you more time."

|…|

"No, forget it, I'm not going to help you."

Now he questions whether he is making good decisions lately. Maybe he simply wasn't expecting a negative response from the person he's trying to help, still, why was he refusing his help, maybe he hadn't understood what he was trying to do.

"Ratchet, this is to help you, not me" he explained himself, trying to convince him anyway, he didn't think it was too much he was asking "if you could tell me more about yourself and what happened in your life, maybe-" 

he interrupts him suddenly "Maybe then they can find more crimes to blame me for" he performs as he stands up from the floor to look straight at him and cross his arms obviously irritated "Listen, Cans, I know what you're trying to do, but it's not going to work ok?" he finishes turning around to walk away from the entrance of his cell and, therefore, from him.

Before he gets far enough away he manages to raise his voice and say, "You don't know that."

"I know enough" he turns to continue the conversation, this time with growing anger in his voice "enough to know that, if you somehow managed to get me not executed, it wouldn't do me any good anyway!" he shouts, clearly with suppressed fed upness and without realizing it he starts walking in circles starting to disburse his own thoughts "I was a gullible idiot all my life, used like a stupid puppet by that bastard, even after I killed him, I didn't change anything!" he continues walking angrily, failing to take his presence into account.

Clank silently contemplates the outburst of rage and pauses for a moment to think.

"Ratchet, why did you kill Tachyon?" he questions suddenly and without warning, maybe he can get something out of this conversation.

Ratchet angrily and without thinking answers without much delay, what better than to unburden himself to a charming robot like Clank?

"That son of a-" from the fury he tries to contain, he can't even express himself correctly and tries again: "that disgusting worm took advantage of me practically since he found me, I made his weapons, I improved his army, I fought his battles and, what's left for me?" he stops his walk for a moment to extend his arms pointing to the stay in prison that would surely end his life, to only finish "nothing, my life was a lie, and it's over" he lowers his arms heavily and stays still.

Clank mulls over the lombax's words and comes to a conclusion.

"Maybe so" he begins sincerely and realistically and insists: "maybe your life was just a lie and you have nothing left".

"You really know how to lift spirits, Cans, maybe you should dedicate yourself to that" he says giving off sarcasm in every word.

"You didn't let me finish" he interrupts and continues; "but even if I did, do you really want it to end like this?" he tries to appeal to his reasoning, it almost feels like he's pleading between the lines, but keeps insisting "if your life was unfair, why not better try to do something about it?".

Ratchet quickly becomes jaded and begins to speak truthfully "Ah please, as if anyone would believe what I say, in case you haven't noticed, I'm in prison and I'm a fucking murderer" he now feels angry with himself and can't help but doubt and question himself on the spot "besides, why do you care, as far as I know you just wanted to do your stupid interrogation, I answered it, didn't I? why don't you just right off and forget it, Cans" he spits with obvious contempt.

When he says this Ratchet can't help but feel furious, but at the same time regretful of his words and his own self-loathing grows, he doesn't know what this means, is he becoming more insane than he already is?

"Because it's unfair, isn't it, Ratchet?".

Hearing that leaves him in shock, like a stab in the stomach, he feels his eyes widen and his mouth go dry, he can't think straight nor does he find himself able to object to the words.  He smiles a little without realizing it and can't help the thought 'you sly, wretched little robot'. Not finding how to debate this, he decides it's not worth fighting this battle, and gives up.

"Fine" he ends his little verbal argument "you win, Cans" he declares to finally concede: "what do you want now?".

|…|

The past is not a nice place to remember, you know?

There are unpleasant swarms of corpses, deaths and blood in every corner of my memories, nightmares and deeds, things I don't usually tell anyone. Are you prepared to stay and listen?... 

Well, I just hope you won't be disappointed or regret it, I haven't even started and I already feel my conscience making me nauseous.

Let's start with something simple, the first fight. I still remember my first real battle, I was no more than ten years old, and it was in a clandestine fighting arena, an entertainment show, called Dreadzone, situated in the shadow sector, a place located in the limits of the Solana galaxy, a lawless place, run by Gleeman Vox, I think it's a good story to start with, isn't it?

|---|

He doesn't remember exactly how he got to the first cell he was put in, as far as he knew, Tachyon had been too careless with his new recruit and because of his carelessness he had been kidnapped from one moment to the next, it wasn't until sometime later that he had returned to reclaim what was his, but that was much later.

He remembers how battered his cell was, claw marks everywhere were glimpsed as old past events of the many residents who had surely ended up there like him. The lights flickered on and off with every second they were kept on in the cell, even so, he remembers remaining in darkness most of the time, at first he panicked, his heart racing a mile a minute and his thoughts kept him paranoid for the first few hours he was there, alone.

How had he ended up here?, did the Emperor know he had been kidnapped?, would he come back for him?, would he be killed?, where the hell was he? He didn't get answers until hours later, and at that moment he wished he had died trying, for what awaited him, was something a child shouldn't have to go through.

After having waited for hours in isolation and in the farthest corner of the entrance of the cell in a fetal position without prior warning, a couple of guards of what he assumed at that time was a prison, had taken him abruptly out of the room, held his hands in handcuffs and placed a strange collar around his neck, as if he were an animal, he remembers having twisted all the time they had been on him, resisting to lose his dignity and freedom. Everything happened so fast that he could not remember all the details.

After that, they took him to the arena.

|---|

His first battle was, not to say, a complete disaster, he was almost killed in the first duel, his weapon was a complete mess by the time it was over, it was also unfair, four against one, it was a miracle that he managed to survive, but the audience was the worst of all, the voices, the screams, the noise that could cause a crowd of people was incredible and at the same time unbearable, his ears tended to be sensitive, they used to reach an incredible radius of several meters around, it was like putting a dog in the middle of a courtyard full of explosives. He swears they almost deafened him the first time. He, on the other hand, was no better off than they were.

He had sprained his ankle in a jump out of a shooting zone, he also remembers the multiple injuries he got trying to take out the robots he was trying to survive against, he cut himself a couple of times, the gunfire failed to hit him unlike the grenades and bombs, he got burned too, he bled a little here and there, and he had been kicked on more than one occasion. But he survived, bruised, tired, barely standing and clearly alert and paranoid, but he was alive.

And this did not please the director of the lunatic circus. 

He feels a punch in the stomach, the air is knocked out of him and he falls down trying to cover himself from potential further blows, his head throbs hard listening to his heartbeat and he senses the familiar taste of blood, sweet and metallic in his mouth, he clenches his jaw in pain, he wishes they would give him a break to treat his wounds, but that would be too lenient of his miserable life, he recognizes that this is not the first or the last time he will be in the same situation, he just has to survive long enough to get out of this hell.

Kneeling, holding his wounds, he finally introduces himself to the first person responsible for his stay there. And by far one of the most hated guys he will ever meet.

"What kind of show was that?" he hears, but doesn't lift his head off the ground, when did it end like that?

"You ran like a rat for so long that a good part of the spectators left the show!" he manages to get his head off the floor with effort to look at him.

"next time you better get my audience back, or you won't live to tell the tale."

He had never felt such contempt and hatred for anyone until he ran into the Slademan, a business guy, the worst of the lot.

"Fuck you" he spits bloody, loud enough to be heard in the room.

He himself admits it was a bad move at the time.

|---|

No one in the damned galaxy showed mercy to children, not on his planet and even less outside of it. He still feels and remembers the pain of his hurts and the probable bruise he got after that little comment and something about learning to respect his superiors, yeah of course.

His lesions sting and prickle like little bumps on his body, even after they have been treated. He keeps still to prevent the pain from consuming him and ending up disorienting his head, he decides better to concentrate and premeditate his actions before doing anything from now on, it is the main thing to survive here, and surely anywhere else as well. That night he can't sleep, the pain is killing him.

And the damn lights don't stop flickering.

|---|

A few more months passed before he heard from Tachyon. Who besides coming back for him has plans to take him out and finish off the greedy Vox, somehow manages to let him know through one of Gleeman's workers, and he's just left to endure the wait for the big show. The audience will love it, there will be a little change of plans in the circus of murderers after all. The show must never end, right?

|---|

The short time he spent performing and resisting Gleeman's little show taught him many things about a real fight. In a fight there is no time out, even if there is no one else to beat, he learned that from the shots that burned his skin when he gave in to take a breather after battling for two straight hours. In a fight there are no winners or losers, there are only those who prevail and those who do not, the sudden deaths of the many opponents made it very clear to him first hand, suddenly all the time he managed to live another day. In a fight there are only opponents, there are no friendships or people, he learns quickly when they have to take down the only person who didn't try to harass him in the whole damn place. And last but not least, in a real fight only one comes out alive from the battlefield, them or you, because mercy only means death.

But the main show is about to start and he can' t keep the audience waiting.

In the small room waiting to go out into the arena, he prepares for one last performance before returning to his work.He holds tightly the improved spear he got from his previous battles, modifying it in the past for this special occasion, and feels anxious to finally put it to the test.

He holds tightly the improved spear he got from his previous battles, modifying it in the past for this special occasion, and feels anxious to finally put it to the test.

The hatch opens wide, and he emerges from the darkness happy with amusement at being exactly what Gleeman wanted him to be, his main attraction. 

He hears the crowd thrill as they see him emerge, they shout his name loudly, cheering him, booing him, cursing him, and wishing him everything in what has been announced for some time now; the recent winner against one of the most dangerous beasts in the galaxy, and before him, the greatest grunthor he had ever seen.

He remembers that he was only a boy then, he was ten years old, and, even so, he had taken down one of the most dangerous beasts in the galaxy, one that didn't even belong there. And it had taken him hours to find a blind spot in the stupid beast, evading, probing and ripping out every seemingly vital part of it, finally slitting its throat and leaving it to bleed to death.

Without realizing it, he laughs with happiness when he succeeds, his blood runs a little from his hands, but he doesn't care, it's the cost of a battle, his beaten and bruised body can hardly stand and he supports himself with his weapon to stay standing, the crowd goes crazy when the monster exhales his last breath, and shudders, it's all too much.

He trembles from the adrenaline and excitement of the fight, he doesn't let his guard down for a second, aware that the show must go on. His smile remains on his face all the time he remains in the middle of the battlefield.

"Huge show witnessed tonight, people!" he hears the announcer exclaim with great enthusiasm, his voice carrying through every corner of the colossal stadium.

He feels a sadistic thrill climb through his body, waiting vehemently.

"The last lombax victorious in his fight against the beast from another galaxy!" proclaims, thrilling the screaming crowd with every word.

His proud smile becomes long and huge, cynical and sardonic, he loses the thread of words around him and can only hear an annoying noise behind his head, it makes him want to silence it, to discern again what is going on around him, but he can't.

"The spectacle of one in a million!".

He feels every part of his body tense, waiting for the long-awaited moment.

But even when it comes, he doesn't move an inch from his quiet, still position.

He doesn't hear the explosions around him, nor the alarmed cries of the audience, or the announcer, or the fighters who were close to the next battle, he only hears the sound of a cruel silence, which decides to drown him in an insane and maddening satisfied retribution.

He doesn't even notice the Emperor, he doesn't remember his words, nor his gestures, he doesn't even know how he got to him so fast, nor the moment when his necklace and confinement bracelets fell without energy from his body.

He can only focus on the bastard who got him into all this, and how he enjoyed what happened.

Gleeman didn't beg, he just cursed. He always knew he was a real big son of a bitch, one who was about to die.

He remembers going through his body with a savage fury.

Slashing his throat like an animal.

And making him suffer to the end.

All the while, his smile never leaves his face and by the time it's over, the sounds return, louder and more prominent than ever. He can feel again, the blood on his hands, not really knowing if it is his or not, the pain of his wounds and the tiredness that finally reaches his body, but he cannot hide it.

His immense enjoyment, and that he would gladly do it again, more personal and specific next time.

The next time he is reunited back with his race.

|---|

"And so the story ends," Ratchet says disinterestedly around him, finding his own hand more interesting than the reaction of the listener.

Clank clearly speechless from the incredible, yet sadistic past he just heard, he doesn't know what to say or how to proceed from here, and that was only the first of many more, something tells him that the phrase 'this is only about to begin' is an understatement in the face of such a unique situation.

"No words, Cans?" he decides to speak for him, he probably just scared him, maybe he was too graphic about it, he doesn't think much of it either "if you want we can leave it here, and tell another story tomorrow" he's tired, he doesn't want to talk anymore "what do you think?". 

"I... yes" still speechless, he determines that was enough for today.

"Good" he says and suddenly drops his sitting posture to lying down, settles back and closes his eyes, even if his cell remains only slightly dark after nightfall "I'm going to sleep".

Chapter Text

'Remorse is the echo of a lost virtue.'

-Edward Robert Bulwer-Lytton.

"Well, since this will become a habit between us" he approaches the entrance to his cell, walking in small but measured steps "and I'm going to help you with your little investigation of me" he stops three steps short of bumping into the force field and demands condescendingly; "I have requests."

"Ratchet, you are in no condition to ask for anything, I think you know that very well".

Little Cans, even on the other side of the wall of energy that was her cell, could get very fastidious and cautious when she wanted to. They had only known each other for two days, but he could already describe the robot perfectly, every piece that made up his little metal body, his cordial and respectful personality even to him, a criminal, his positive but logical attitude to difficult circumstances and of course the degree of threat this could pose to himself. Sounds sick now that he thinks about it, but can you blame him, he has always had to be aware of his surroundings, confinement or not. Usually everyone he's met who isn't dead wants him dead. So far nothing has happened, but he wouldn't be surprised if something suddenly went wrong, would that be a good thing or a bad thing?

And then there's him, Cans.

Ratchet will be the first to admit that he doesn't like people, or company for that matter. People are backstabbers, liars, cruel and hypocritical, no one can be trusted, another reason he doesn't have or desire friendships. He has already had many disappointments in his life. But he is fine with that, these are life lessons that eventually everyone must learn.

But even knowing this, and living only by and for him, he can't help a strange feeling in the center of his chest. It's bittersweet, inexplicably pleasant, but at the same time it feels so affable that it comes across as somewhat... painful.

In the midst of this, another familiar feeling returns to his head, something he hasn't experienced in years, he calmly observes his hands, which remain clasped together and feels them trembling slightly, almost imperceptible to the average onlooker, and in the midst of this process, he finally recognizes that sensation that deliberately took his consciousness by surprise.

Fear.

"Ratchet are you all right?".

The thought goes as quickly as Clank's intrusion appears, still dazed, he doesn't remember the Cans being there, with him.

"You were saying, Cans?" he tries to remain calm and not let any of his musings show or come out, the robot was observant, more so than he once gave him credit for.

Clank despite being somewhat naive, senses that something happened, even if it wasn't something he could see, he deliberates that it will be a topic he will address another day, now it will be better to focus on the stories yet to be heard.

"I was asking if you could tell me about your time with Tachyon.

|…|

Percival Tachyon, your favorite cragmite dictator of the day. A treacherous and nasty worm with the stupidest name he could have ever heard, even if they shared the same goals during the years he was in his service, he had never liked the guy, he used to allow him fun from time to time, and provided him with anything, whatever he needed to build a totality of all kinds of weapons and artifacts to improve his army and might. Tachyon wanted to conquer everything, and of course rule with an iron fist, and he, he wanted more.

He wanted to exterminate his own race or at least die trying.

|...|

Remember that it all started with ideas, thoughts, a lot of reflection and of course, lies. They abandoned him, they were all cowards, running away from a conflict that had not ended. Leaving him behind, to his fate, but what could be expected of them, after all they were just that, cowardly hypocrites, hiding like rats between the cracks of the dimensions, 'heroes of the past', yeah sure.

He and Tachyon were looking for the Dimensionator at that time; the only way to access beyond the known universe, to finish what the said 'heroes' of the Polaris galaxy started. The only way to carry out their revenge. Promising himself that no one would escape his wrath, he would destroy everything, he would make sure of that.

All just to return to that addictive sweet and cold feeling of satisfaction, the same one that drove him crazy the first time he tasted it. Feelings of resentment became thoughts, thoughts became hate, and hate fed his ideals, his will and his desire for revenge, his only goal for years was that, revenge, it was his own way of finding meaning in his life. It was unbelievable how much hate and spite he had, but constantly feeling so numb, empty and hollow inside. Waiting and waiting, for the day he could finally realize himself, for what he was, and not what they had expected, said and done of him.

He would make them swallow their words, and the universe would find out, they would regret it, all of them.

And of course, he would kill them, but that would be for the end, for where would the fun be without a little pleasure?

|...|

He walks unhurriedly, through the long gloomy corridors that belonged to the emperor's general base. 'A little lighting wouldn't kill anyone' he thinks as he watched them repeatedly every morning he left his room, he didn't mind to be honest, but the darkness that these corridors could hold would suit a good blind spot from the cameras, if someone tried to infiltrate and he wasn't around, he would manage to cause a lot of trouble before anyone noticed.

He will notify the emperor of this, but that will have to be later, he will be very busy now.

Today he starts daily routine, as usual, he must say that at first it was fun to be here. He focused on inventing, researching and helping with whatever the Emperor ordered, nothing complicated, he could learn and have fun from time to time, it was much better than the plateau in Veldin was, it was a better life.

Until that insufferable Gleeman showed up. After what happened on his little death parade, things changed upon his return. You could say it was a learning experience, or so Tachyon says. Many things about him had changed, he was more creative with weapons, his fighting skills developed quite a bit when tested against the combat circuitry on base, also, killing somehow was more fun than building and creating weapons. He wasn't the same kid he had picked up from that forgotten, pathetic planet, and the emperor had noticed this almost instantly. Then an important question came out of this. 

Commander. At his fifteenth year, at a planning meeting for the development of new weapons of mass destruction, the question was elaborated upon, and of course he didn't think twice before agreeing. At last he would get the recognition he deserved, he didn't care if it had to be by someone else, he would get respect.

It was usually interesting to be a commander. He could mess with anyone and no one could get him in trouble, it was fun to do it all the time when he was younger and curious with the soldiers, now that he knew a thing or two it was even more entertaining to annoy them, hiding parts of the Drophyd without them noticing, testing them in the stupidest ways possible for a good laugh, destroying the odd suit for insubordination. Despite being deadly with the same weapons he had developed and difficult to deal with when it came to the armor that protected them, how idiotic they became, frustrated him more than he would like to admit. But they were obedient, perfect cannon fodder, he could understand that.

Nothing really complicated that he couldn't do on his own, just basically keep an eye on everything, report, and make decisions for the benefit of the Cragmite empire. And for a long time everything had worked out well for him. Every planet on Solana was quickly falling under the emperor's conquest, something that would have taken longer if it weren't for him, obviously.

Then the hassles began, and with them the obstacles in the way.

|...|

"So, this is your fault." said Ratchet.

Ratchet has always had issues with authority, in or out of law, that was not a new thing, he usually used to get into arguments with Tachyon, it didn't matter much if he had a reason or not to start a verbal fight with the emperor, but he used to do it when there weren't many people around. It was a way to handle stress, but this time, Ratchet was not to blame for what happened.

Percival Tachyon sitting in disgust on his great glorified throne snorted with irritation, the little pest was a nuisance when he imposed himself mockingly, if he wasn't potentially effective and indispensable to his plans, he would have gotten rid of him years ago, but the decision he made when they met had been appropriate, he just had to focus on his goals.

And endure as much as he could the infamous rat.

"They were of no use to me, that's why I left them in exile" he argues, as if he had no other choice, destroying them would have been preferable in his opinion, they were just robots.

The lombax annoyed by the situation, can't help but scoff ironically "Yeah, and they came back to bite you in the ass" he refuses to return his gaze to the cragmite and prefers to focus better on the detailed reports on the holo-screen he holds "now I have to take care of them, we can't lose another shipment of minerals, the Raritanium is already scarce enough for some stupid robots to steal it" he concludes before continuing with his pressing question.

"Have you found any clues about the Dimensionator?" Ratchet asks simply, casually and almost unimportantly, asking within himself, earnestly to get a positive answer.

"No trace of it" the negative answer was a continuous blunder for both of them, Tachyon was no happier than the lombax with this "the lombax hid it well, it's probably somewhere in Polaris" he theorized smartly, after all, the first planet to investigate in Polaris would be Fastoon, home of the race.

They had been investigating several planets over the years, Solana was a huge galaxy, with many unexplored planets, who could not hide something as important as a weapon of mass destruction in one of these? Many of them were uninhabitable or dangerous, enough to keep all the planets with inhabitants around them far away and not wanting to meet or crash into any of them, and since the conquest of Solana was something that would eventually happen, evidently their first options to search were on planets already claimed to the empire. Still, there didn't seem to be any clues about that, anywhere and with each passing year Ratchet couldn't help but grow increasingly impatient.

"It will turn up, eventually" he declared between his teeth, Ratchet was getting tired of waiting "there is nothing more to report, the invasion of Solana's capital, Marcadia, continues, there have been no hitches since it started, taking Kalebo III was a wise decision, it will make it harder for them to resist the other planets" he reports with boredom, no more news, since the last planet was taken, Gadgetron supplies will not reach any other planet: "They won't last long" he doesn't avoid smiling with his last words, aware that his work is giving progress and results. Now it's on to the next problem to take care of.

"If you don't need me, I'm going to pay our former pirate comrades a little visit" the feline turning around, begins to walk away at a normal pace from the throne to leave the dreadful meeting room "I'll be back in a few days, of course, if they don't kill me first" he finishes gracefully. 

He stops at the front door to leave and waits a few seconds, hearing no objection or call from the emperor then he gets ready to open it and leave.

Now that he thinks about it, maybe he can take advantage of the situation, and get some more ''helpers'' at will or not, it was easy to manipulate the machines, they were just lots of screws and pieces together, sometimes with too much conscience and personality for his taste.

|...|

His starfighter travels at moderate speed this time. He usually likes to go as fast as possible to each and every one of his destinations, but tracking down space pirates is not a very easy task to say the least, fortunately for him, this is not the first time they have docked one of his supply ships, so leaving several trackers among the crates leaving the general base was a simple but effective idea, the pirates were quite brutish and crude when it came to stealing, they wouldn't give their new supplies a second look when they literally should just take them and get out of Tachyon's domain, they also had to be pretty stupid to steal from the emperor and thus from him.

It had been a while since he had been in a fight, it will be fun for a change, with all the obligations he has nothing was as exciting as it was at first.

|...|

Now he could see the fleet ahead. It was large, but not large enough like the one he usually handled in the empire, this one looked like a real ocean going ship, of course, if the ships he had seen were made of heavy metal and technology instead of wood and sailed on a sea and not in outer space. He examines whether he should make a surprise attack on the fleet or stow away on the ship, after all he still has cargo to retrieve. It takes him no more than a second to make his decision smoothly.

Ratchet really liked working on machines. Be it robots, ships or boats, anything that involved technology or at least gears. And whenever he started a project he couldn't help but get excited, every piece, improvement and idea flowed out of him as if nature demanded it so, always innovating, creating and modifying to improve every single thing he made, even if there were setbacks for every development, somehow he always made it work. His own ship had certain specifications and parts not so allowed by law, you could almost say he had built it from scratch, with everything he had removed and replaced, and always left the best for himself.

Activating the starfighter's invisible energy field, he set out to sneak up on them cautiously, the mission was only to eliminate them and bring back the stolen cargo, which was complicated. If they had only destroyed and hindered the path of the cargo and delivery ships, just bringing in a few fleets of his army would have solved the problem in the bud, still, he couldn't help but get excited for a little action; the adrenaline of a real fight and the satisfaction of victory were something that couldn't be obtained any other way than in conflict, respectively.

He steered his ship through the low forward part of the ship, the bow; remember from what he read in an old book on archaic machinery, the helm was at the other end of the colossal pirate ship; the stern. With his suit on, and left on autopilot he set about opening the hatch of his ship, large and overly exposed ships such as the pirates' left many blind spots to exploit, the least guarded areas were the lower ones, more precisely, the sides of the advanced vessel, the best way to hook on, climb and climb up to the deck, even in constant motion, the balancer kept him hooked on the metal wall long enough to activate the magneto boots without hindrance and hold firmly on the starboard sides. Once past the hard part, his ship moved away, still hidden and invisible but still close enough to just make a quick call and pick him up after finishing this.

He walks low and subtle along the lower wall of the ship, he must not make noise or draw unwanted attention, it is not yet time for his surprise entrance. At a steady and cautious pace he finally reaches the deck, when he reaches it he doesn't go up immediately, he first pokes his head out to examine the area before boarding. Everything is terribly poorly lit, the lights are dim and scattered, the only thing he can make out is the back of the ship, where the rudder is affirmed and he inadvertently hears noise and commotion from the passengers. His eyesight automatically switches to night vision and he distinguishes by far, gaining a greater peripheral view thanks to his hull, locating places in the entire panorama in a single glimpse. There are robots working on lowering crates from the deck to the lower hold inside the ship, the unattended helm and navigator remains abandoned, with several more pirates on deck, circling and hindering the quick path to the awning, drinking and guffawing, campy, celebrating another successful raid on their cargoes. They would not laugh for much longer.

Fortunately there is no one watching or loitering around the bow, so he prepares to climb up and hide in the many piles of cargo near the gunwale. He checks his communicator and reviews his last orders before the show begins. His triumphal entry was to be unique.

"We've got a stowaway aboard boys!" he hears the pirates shout and alert everyone aboard of their presence.

Well, 'there was no better place than the present' he thought for a second and began to attack, fuck the presentation.

He equipped his weapon of choice to attack, calculated a single shot and threw the fusion grenade into the midst of the crewmen, before switching to his weapon of choice, an upgraded OmniWrench 4000 to launch and return with certain functions included to kill and make his job easier, he emerged from his uncovered hiding place and attacked the first opponent he encountered. His movements were always erratic when he was in the middle of the battle, he could not stay still in one place, it was the best way to dodge and retreat when it seemed best, normally he was always outmatched in many aspects, both in strength and in height and numbers, but it was compensated with skill in weapons, strategy and agility.

It didn't take him more than a couple of seconds to get through the side of the robot without a scratch and break it in half before he continued on to the next pair of idiots that attacked him, his quick feet left him no more than necessary in the way and he dodged the great sword before it went through anything important, leaving a wide margin of space for him to decapitate the slow metallic pirate in a second, following with the next one, quickly loading his weapon only to move away, aim with it and fire an energy beam, one of his modifications, the most powerful and effective of them all, and proceeded with the hordes arriving from inside the ship, he would have a good time.

After a while of ramming and attacking with his OmniWrench, he picked up the heavy weapons and began firing at anything that moved in sight, disintegrated some robots, blew a couple to pieces before moving position and switching to chopping others to pieces using his spinning blades, stopped a bunch of pirates with an electromagnetic pulse before blasting them out of the air with more fusion grenades. In conclusion, a good workout of dodging, aiming, shooting and not ending up being run through by a sword or killed by a well timed shot.

He had a lot of fun, decapitating, maiming and piercing some stupid robots that chose a bad time to screw him over, what a good distraction it ended up being, right?

At least until the ammo ran out, at least he didn't want to rip anyone's head off anymore, that was good too.

The best thing about it was that even though the numbers overwhelmed him, they had only decided to surround him and close him off at gunpoint and steel blade, waiting for the best. His Captain, or as he was known in the galaxy and of whom he had heard much, Romulus Slag, commander and captain of the space pirate fleet, or as he liked to call him, Captain High Seas Scum. Without letting his guard down at any time, Slag introduced himself by standing out among all the other pirate robots who kept cursing and swearing with their metal jaws, causing immediate silence to listen to him speak.

"Look what we have here, the last lombax in the galaxy!" he enunciates big and loud, pointing and threatening him with a large hook in place of a left hand, approaching him "You dare infiltrate my ship and interrupt the celebration of our last great raid! " with his right hand he holds a pistol that, from the design, looked like a strange combination of vintage and cutting edge technology "You are either a very brave cat or extremely stupid to come and confront my ship!" he vocifies gracefully, clearly amused, and threatens pointing the gun at his head.

"You know damn well why I'm here, Slag" as he says this, he holds tightly to his key, resisting the temptation to try and run the robot through on the spot, he wouldn't last long if he did either, let alone trapped.

"Of course I know!" he shouts aware of the facts, and doesn't avoid digging into the most recent ones about him "But of all the creatures I ever thought would work for Tachyon, never in my worst nightmares did I imagine a lombax doing his dirty work" he he hears him humiliate him to a pet and unconsciously can't help but return the offense.

"I'm nobody's lapdog stupid piece of junk" he dismisses with boldness and contempt, after a few seconds he calms down and thinks logically, nobody makes fun of him and less a pile of rusty metal.

The captain does not stop there, genuinely curious about the result of this answer "Tell me, what lie was it that convinced you that you ended up working for the marginalized cragmite liar?" and adds independently as a warning of what he already knows: "he will discard you, faster than a ship to a black hole can try to escape before being consumed by its gloom" he expresses with prevention, almost as if it were an ultimatum.

"Just like what happened to you?" he doesn't let him answer and continues unscrupulously, "listen you poorly preserved piece of metal, I have my reasons for doing this, I've crossed too many lines to try to back out and regret it, I'm not stopping now and no one is going to stop me, least of all someone like you" his voice remains steady, genuinely determined and sure of his words.

Slag amused with him, doesn't refuse to scoff in exaggerated laughter along with his crew and blurts out in the middle of this, "It's too late for that pest!" at no time does he take the gun away from his head, and listens without dilation to the gun charge with energy "better end this here and now, too bad a good fighter like you ends up like this, but that won't be my problem anymore!" he laughs sharply and gets ready to deliver the coup de grace shot.

"I could tell you the same thing, Captain" Ratchet declares the talk over and decides you have nothing more to say on the subject.

Their looks of confusion at the words, could only turn to looks of horror and fear when engrossed in the lombax they finally became aware of their surroundings and beyond the very edges of their great ship. Never before had they been more frightened in their lives than at that precise moment.

Hundreds of military and certainly armed ships were seen in the open, surrounding and obviously aiming thousands of deadly guns at the pirate fleet that was dwarfed by the overwhelmingly superior number of guns and ships that had appeared without warning and closed any escape route they might have taken so as not to end up in that situation. It had all been a trap from the start.

The captain, as surprised and terrified as his pirate comrades listens to the lombax speak, condescendingly and with reason: "Tell me Captain Slag, if you will pull that trigger now, how long do you think you and your crew will last before you end up liquidated by my army?".

Slag, certainly not expecting such a magnitude of ambush, outmatched and without a choice, with anger and helplessness he removes and lowers his weapon, making all his followers go along with his example.

"Yeah, that's what I thought" he comments smugly through his helmet, he continues with false naivety "you know, in fact, I can do several things for you now that everything went in my favor" he walks normally, slowly surrounding the captain, but not completely, as if he were a hindrance in his way, everyone watches him with tension "don't worry, it won't be more than a few small improvements for you and your comrades, you could even be useful again, wouldn't that be generous of me?" he stops his walk, his back to the robot, always with his guard at the ready.

"The darkest, most ravenous pits of hell await you lombax, this will not stand!" he hears the pirate curse helplessly, but stays in a null act, not perceiving him make any other move. He smiles behind his mask, satisfied with his work.

"Of course, and by then I'll even have my own hell to burn, but now, you guys made it this far."

|...|

"Did you take care of the problem?".

"Yes, I even got new recruits, they will be perfect to explore the planets to be conquered and gather information" he replies pleased with the results, better than he imagined "after all they are only pirates, they obey no one and they are adventurous treasure looters, no one will give a second glance to what they do" his use was perfect and subtle, at least enough so that no one suspected Tachyon.

"I thought you said you would eliminate them after recovering what was stolen" the emperor rebutted with his main commander, not figuring the conclusion of events.

"Yes and then I thought, why not make a bunch of rusty scrap metal into something useful?" he expresses enthusiastically, explaining this, "then I just modified them, removed many parts of their autonomy and artificial intelligence, and now they are more obedient and therefore useful to the empire, unless you want me to get rid of them, of course, because I wouldn't challenge your authority, would I, Emperor?" he smiles innocently and the lombax watches him diligently.

"Do as you see fit" the cragmite dismiss casually.

"Thank you Emperor, but if what concerns you is their elimination, all it takes is the press of a button and they will automatically be destroyed, their parts will disassemble without a problem, and if that fails the bombs included in their bodies will take care of them" the idea of explosives was just a whim, he wouldn't deny it.

"You always have to end everything with a bang don't you, Ratchet?".

"You have to accept it, they're awesome, if they weren't so scarce and dangerous to all things in general, I'd use them just to watch them go off all the time" his addiction to explosives was just a pleasure developed from years of battles and fights "Although, of course everyone has their own tastes."

And his was blowing enemy ships to pieces, of course, after getting the important stuff out of them, not all the time he could afford that luxury. But that was just another day at the general base, nothing important happens in these boring days.

Still, he didn't give it much consideration, something new and interesting would come up, eventually.

|...|

"You... removed some of the pirates' autonomy to make them... manageable robots?"

Ratchet still sitting cross-legged on the padded floor that is his cell, is hesitant to affirm this question, he had always considered robots to be just that, weapons or tools, machines created to obey and follow orders, but hearing his own actions from someone as sympathetic as Clank, almost makes him want to regret telling that particular story.

But he remembers that this too is part of his past and he must be honest if he will be recounting what is and always will be his life.

"I did" he states without remorse almost quietly, avoiding the robot's big bright optics and explains, "at the time it seemed like a good idea, I stopped thinking about others to keep me alive" he considers Clank for a moment and adds, "a lousy choice don't you think?" he looks back at him without omission this time, interested in what he will say.

"I think it was the wise one, Ratchet" Clank is honest with what he says, and leaves the lombax surprised.

Ratchet is only more stunned as he digests this, what was he trying to say, "what are you talking about, I practically enslaved them and limited them to simple mindless obedient robots, and turned them into walking bombs for a change" something amusing, but not best viewed by the law, nor society in general "don't try to make it sound less horrible than it already sounds".

"No, I think we agree on that part" he corrects what he implied with his words and explains this time in detail "what I meant is that, despite what you did, that was the only way during your whole life you could find to survive, it is preferable for you to be in command and aware of everything around you to continue than, inconveniently you stop thinking beyond that" he interprets what he knows and realizes so far, and determines that there is a lot to encompass from here.

Ratchet still doesn't understand a single one of his words and admits, "I don't know what you're talking about, Cans."

Clank tries to explain it another way, perhaps fewer words will help; "Your controlling attitude doesn't let you see what your possibilities might be" and comments by retort "you lock a lot of things behind that Ratchet, though from what I see I don't think you were aware were you?".

'Now the Cans was analyzing it?' when the thought comes, he can't help but notice how stupid it sounds. Still, he replies resignedly and aggressively.

"How should I know! I don't have all my traumas listed, Clank!,  it's all too habitual for me that not knowing how to distinguish what would be considered bad or good would be like asking me if killing to survive is wrong, but at the same time claiming you had fun killing is okay" now even Ratchet is confused by his own words, he grunts plaintively and exasperated, drops backwards onto the ground, covering his face between his hands he snorts, "now my head hurts from thinking so much, where are you going with this?".

"I'm saying that you don't have to try to overcome everything in your environment anymore, you survived even without that, you lived thanks to your skills and strategies, even if you didn't use them for the right actions" he leaves no time for the lombax to comment anything before continuing with logical reasoning "there are many situations in life that you won't be able to handle, the unpredictability of it is a constant and many times we can only improvise to face them, but trying to control that will only end up making you a slave of it, at the beginning, you did it to survive right? " he explains allegorically, trying to give the idea of what this means and ends with a simple but accurate conclusion "I see no reason to continue like this".

Ratchet considers this for a moment. And he comes to the same conclusion.

Even if he didn't want to accept it, the robot was right. After what happened with Tachyon, that only became more ingrained in his behavior, in a cynical and deranged way too, Ratchet now recognizes.

The ship, the edge of the galaxy, the desires to die and end everything he believed in but never contradicted and his own thoughts reminding him of the futility of his actions and evoking the complete miscarriage that was his life and existence, relying on lies and following only one goal. A goal based on delusions.

"You were the smart one in class weren't you, Cans?" he mutters the small sarcastic comment before settling in, placing his hands behind his head, clearly resting, and speaking clearly; "I don't know, after so long, it became second nature to me, maybe the insomnia is due to that too, sleeping was easier when I was a kid" he reveals as if it was a norm in his life.

"Do you have nightmares?" to Clank it wouldn't surprise him if so, in fact, he'd be a bit worried if that wasn't the case.

Ratchet is quick to respond, indifferent to the question "I don't know, sometimes it's hard to feel scared or happy in my head, another constant of my deranged mind I guess."

Clank thinks for a moment about his next question, and pauses undecided whether to ask it or not.

"Ratchet I need to ask you a question" he doesn't mention that it's an important one, but somehow he knows the lombax suspects it anyway.

Ratchet doesn't think it's that essential or significant, so he proceeds to stand up enough to end up sitting down again and instructs him to continue with whatever it is he wants to know.

"Do you regret what you did?".

At first Ratchet doesn't understand the question, and repeats it again in his head, 'do you regret what you did', did he, if he thinks about it for a moment he can't find guilt or remorse for his actions anywhere in his mind, or heart, if he still has one, but even with all he has done, whether or not it was to live another day and just worry about him, he can't admit something that certainly isn't there. He doesn't feel remorseful.

"... Even if I told you yes, I think we both know that's a lie" he argues with sincerity, he has nothing to hide from that, he remembers for a moment the past and culminates only in a truth: "I stopped feeling guilty about what I was doing years ago, something like that doesn't change from one instant to another, and even less for someone like me".

But Clank doesn't give up, he observes more than the whole galaxy could or would try to see, beyond the acts of a hapless and resigned prisoner with his life.

"But you hesitated" he remarks, checking and witnessing the moment this happened "when you finished your story and I asked you about the robots, you hesitated to tell me the truth or blatantly lie to me, did something change, Ratchet?" he asks intrigued by the answer.

Ratchet is puzzled, he hadn't realized that. A doubt, an unconscious act of... guilt.

Had something changed?

Ratchet pauses to ponder this question for a moment, his life has been a constant of misfortunes, one after another, and now, suddenly things just didn't feel like they used to, he would never consider it, but, somehow, he feels a resentment welling up in his gut, as if he was trying to squash that callous and indifferent part that he developed over the years to not let it eat him up inside, to protect himself from everyone and everything bad that was happening around him, but he didn't understand, what had changed now?

Without realizing that his sight fell on his hands, he averts his unconscious gaze from them and finally observes the answer to this question and identifies it without a specific resolution, rather, a person, or rather a small robot.

"Ratchet?"

And immediately he does not like the answer, the fear makes him tremble and remember again, he reiterates and reiterates in his head what he already knows and will not cease to be; his life is ruined, he will not leave this place, he will die here, and that will be the end, it has to be, he does not want to try anymore, he will not stand it anymore, he does not want to do it anymore, he cannot.

He can't.

He can't.

He feels terrible urge to escape from something, something he can't identify or recognize what it is, he feels trapped and a lump in his throat is made, he remembers that crying won't do any good, but anyway his heart is fluttering, everything is too fast and it's hard for him to breathe properly, he doesn't like this at all, he wants to hide, he would rather be alone than face this, he wants to be alone now.

"Nothing's changed, Cans, everything's still the same for me" that's a lie, he knows that, stiff and more alarmed than Clank has ever seen him, he stands up in a hurry and walks away from the robot, justifying himself hurriedly, turning his back on it; "you'd better go, visiting hours are about to end."

"Ratchet are you okay?" he asks with concern, but silence is his only response.

It is the first time that the lombax prefers to keep his words to himself and remain silent, standing away at the end of his cell refusing to look at him and ending the conversation, his usual sarcastic humor is not there, he does not even respond in a derogatory or vulgar way, or in a sad or nostalgic way, he just remains with the sepulchral silence of an invisible wall that he has no idea why it is there, and he does not think it will be possible to break through it in a conventional way. In the few discussions and words that have been exchanged between the two of them, he did not think of the possibility of this answer.

The answer to his question reverberated in a reserved and distant Ratchet.

The unpredictability of life can't help but surprise and annoy him, can it?

|…|

Concept art: Battle

Chapter Text

"To survive you must tell stories".

-Umberto Eco.

|...|

Having people close to you is just a matter of sooner or later ending up in trouble. Ratchet knows that, it's like a double-edged sword, similar to playing with fire, too close will always burn you. But even for him, the inconvenience and his circumstances were never ideal. Opening up to someone was never a good idea, he knows because he did it, and when that failed he tried again, always striving and trying to have something more than just constant self-loathing, which his mere existence reminded him of all the time. And with each disappointment after deception, trial and failure, he began to realize that it wasn't something for him, that something like that wouldn't be worth anything, it was just a burden, interrupting his priorities. That's why everyone he once valued and considered is now underground, or their bodies are abandoned and lost with a big hole in their heads. Everyone disposed of their own dead weight in their own way. Regardless of whether that meant having no choice but to kill.

The last time he trusted someone, he had almost died, that made him promise himself not to approach anyone unless it was to kill them.

And life went on. At least now what was left of it...

Nothing, there' s nothing left that matters to him. The idea of dying doesn't sound so bad all of a sudden, you know?

But the Can is still there. And the only question he's able to ask himself is, why?

Why is the robot still there?

Why is it so insistent on staying with him?

Why does it want to help him?

Why?

Why of all people, that stupid robot?

|...|

The robot is still there, he tries to start another conversation with the lombax, but it is more of a one-sided conversation, the prisoner never utters a response or any comment that prompts one, even when the silence is heavy, and it is more than obvious that he is not going to speak again, the robot remains there. Ratchet doesn't like it, the only way this will end is he doesn't like it at all.

He remains in the far corner of the cell, sitting down. His large triangular ears reside low and downcast instead of high and perky as before, his arms are crossed resting on his knees, which remain together, and he hides his face crestfallen in the space left by them, wishing with the last of his will to hide from his surroundings. Constantly avoiding to raise his head and look at the robot that is always there.

The terms of their last conversation didn't turn out well, Ratchet hasn't uttered a single word in days, and Clank is very worried. He doesn't really understand what caused this, was it something he said, should he apologize, but how do you apologize for something you honestly don't know anything about?

Clank doesn't know what to do. He tries with everything in his power to continue and not give up here, their days are dwindling and time is running out, he knows as well as Ratchet that this is not fair, the story is not complete and he knows well how something like this will end if it is not clarified what really happened, how things really started.

He senses that Ratchet still has a lot to say. Hiding things, foreseeing the outcome of his silence, and yet saying nothing. His death wish is something he doesn't hide at all, and he finds that alarming to say the least, the reason behind it, seems to be more complicated than he once anticipated. 

He had gathered enough information so far to clarify certain points of the investigation. The first was the reason behind the murder of Percival Tachyon; deceit and treachery, he seems to have been working with him out of an insatiable unfounded hatred of his race, only to somehow, as yet unknown, discover the truth behind the lies, bringing about the tyrant's death in the timely circumstance. The second was his stay and evident contempt for Veldin, his home planet; it seems he has always been alone, not looking out for anyone else, living for himself, he realizes that his hatred for his past experiences, evoked many of his actions, personality and attitude, as well as his stay with Tachyon, developing paranoia, a controlling mind and making his childish acting as a protective layer of reality, forgetting in the process such basic principles as the freedom of others only to get what he wants, following only his mere selfish desires. The third, but without many answers or enough words to explain it; his suicidal desires, I had noticed from their first conversation, his cooperation, his indifference to the issues, his curiosity, asking very quietly about his impending execution.

Many bad things happened in the course of the lombax's life. Clank can't help but feel sad for him, it was no wonder his behavior, or his way of being, after all, he's just trying to protect himself from the circumstances and what he had to do in the past to end up like this.

And that's why he's not going to give up, his options aren't over, he just hasn't tried everything, or even enough times. This was no longer just about getting a complete history of the facts, there was much more to it than that.

This was Ratchet's last chance to patch up his mistakes. But that meant moving on, there was still so much to cover, he just hoped the truth would be enough to help everyone.

|...|

"Ratchet? I've noticed that our dynamic hasn't been very equal" he begins once again, but with a different change of perspective, hopefully this will work, he has nothing more to offer or try "I ask for many things, but for my part I haven't been considerate either, much less contributed almost anything to our talks other than demands" he explains as he stretches his head to see if there is any reaction from the isolated feline.

There is no response, Ratchet remains in the same position he has been in for hours, exactly the same since Clank has been there. However, he doesn't let this discourage him and continues even in hope of achieving progress, anything would be appreciated in this situation.

"So, I think now is as good a time as any, to relate a little about me" he says confidently, he can feel a smile building on his face, even though he is a robot. He gets as close as he can without going past the confines of the cell so he can clearly hear what he has to say, "A story for a story."

He can almost make out a raised eyebrow on the lombax's hidden face, more curious than eluded to listen, his ears were strikingly expressive, getting a faint curious movement in both, that was something new. Already with a little attention, he determined it was a good way to start.

"I'm not the best at telling stories, but I think it's better than talking to myself, don't you?" Clank laughs lightly in his distinctive, funny voice, his jokes weren't the best, and yet he didn't care if they weren't, they're funny to him.

Faced with an opportunity, Clank decides to take serious about the matter, he sits down on the ground, sets his report aside and senses that maybe the two of them can get something good out of this, something small, but no less meaningful, maybe the two of them can be friends very soon. Although it was a very remote possibility, it did not imply that it was impossible.

||...||

Sometimes when you begin to discover the universe, the unpredictability of it can be very overwhelming, and it can be even more so when your existence is only limited to a few hours from the moment you are created.

He doesn't usually think much about that, after all, it happened years ago, and President Drek has been dead since then, he terrorized the galaxy during the short time he took presence as the last villain recognized by the Polaris government, it was also his last predicament to solve before Solana's problems began to take presence in his home as well.

Drek was not different from any other megalomaniac greedy for power and wealth, his plans involved a massive destruction of all the existing planets in the space available in the galaxy, eliminating planets without a purpose for his plans, stealing parts of others, creating his own artificial planets for his ideal world, one that he would end up destroying when it was useless just to start a cycle and repeat it as many times as necessary. 

The facts showed that his home planet was on Solana, but due to Emperor Tachyon's army and his own conquest, he had set out to execute his idea far and out of the way of the Cragmite. Thus ending up, as a result, on Polaris.

Also as a result, his own creation. It had to be said that his main designation was the other end of his current job, his design was supposed to be that of a war robot, but a malfunction in the matrix of the factory in which he was created led to him as a result. A tiny robot of barely a head of the average height per soldier, with no weapons, no programming designation and nothing but all the information required to stop President Drek, too convenient in his eyes, which could only be rescinded in him being a potential threat to his plans.

|...|

Escaping from the factories in the sector was a difficult and dangerous job, he had been chased through much of the facility to destroy him and prevent his task, even with the few hours of existence, he had clear goals, fully conscious and autonomous as well, what they called 'defect', Clank reasoned it as freewill, his freedom, the will to be oneself without restrictions. But even without that, he had felt a strong sense of self-preservation from the moment they had activated him, narrowly escaping certain death by the other warbots. The debris chute had been perfect for his short size, making it difficult to pursue the soldiers more effectively.}

But even after escaping the factory nearly unscathed, his journey was only just beginning. Taking a ship was just his good fortune that there was no one guarding the escape ships in the facility, his own designation had allowed him to quickly, if limited, power up and pilot it, he was too small for the normal size of a crewman, he was grateful that the navigation complied with his requests and guided him through it.

His location was rather remote for his convenience, the sector he was in at the moment was an isolated one, far too far away from what he could categorize as a populated or even civilized area, all the planets around were either uninhabitable or extremely dangerous with the creatures that inhabited them, it would do him no good to try to seek help or land anywhere, Clank was not a war robot, not to say, totally defenseless, and more so considering that Polaris was a dangerous galaxy for its notoriety and merits, having its own entire planet, dedicated only to prisoners, also keeping dangerous and recognized villains from multiple galaxies.

Fortunately for him, he had not been pursued, and had soon disappeared among the thousands of stars, nebulae and star clusters that made up the galaxy. His mission was clear after the danger had passed, the direction he had predicted followed the planet Iglak, more precisely, Meridian city, capital of Polaris. It was the best protected and vast nearby place in the galaxy, there he could find someone who could help him.

Unfortunately, the ship was not made for a complete journey through sectors, its practical use was for evacuation, and by its obvious name, escape. The ship at the time they left the Vela sector, he had mentioned it, they would only reach the nearest civilized planet they could find on their journey, when the imminent was made clear, Clank only wished that wherever they landed, the inhabitants could help him.

He recalled that the ship wasn't exactly the fastest he had taken in the rush to get out of Drek's condominiums, the hours were long enough to get out of the president's dominated sector, and the trip had suddenly become nothing but slow and thus tedious. His impatience grew with each passing minute on the ship, the time he was counting on was worth every microsecond, the president's plans were prominent to happen, they would come to fruition very soon, and he was stuck on a late escape ship.

Talking to the ship was just a waste of words, its programming denied it accelerating and consuming the limited energy it had, the system dictated keeping the passenger alive and not getting lost in the endless and confusing galaxy, it had to be said that it was an old system, the limitations were a huge indicator of this, so he dismissed the idea, all that was left now was to wait.

Clank usually didn't mind waiting, but the situation was pressing, his own systems stipulated it, like a noisy alarm clock waking a person up to start his day and do the important things he had a moral responsibility to do. He wanted to avoid the complete destruction of his galaxy, it could be said, he was justified in his own impatience, if not exaggerating.

The restlessness kept him conscious, not shutting down and resting his systems for any instant. His insistence to arrive quickly had not ceased even if he had already argued with the ship's intelligence, multiple times. He knew perfectly well that he was doing the right thing, but somehow, something still didn't feel right, his good luck and coincidences made him stay alert, everything had gone well, too well.

The feeling that something bad might happen haunted him for most of the ride. He hoped it would remain just that, a premonition and nothing more.

|---|

The time that passed made him reflect a little on himself. His existence had clearly been a mistake, as evidenced by the soldiers who had chased him to dismantle him and refuse his parts or destroy them if he proved useless, but, being so, a flaw, how had he been able to see beyond the preprogrammed orders of the robotic designs in the factory? What made him autonomous and aware of his surroundings and the consequences of these acts? How had such a crude and dangerous design as a war bot ended up in him? What made him, him?

The answers to these questions, were never present back then, now that he remembers that moment, he remembers that they are not present to this day either, fortunately he does not think about it so much anymore, but at the time, they were unknowns that did not make sense, but at the same time he felt that the answers even after they were found would not matter much.

He was him, finding the answers wouldn't change who he was, and if he was honest, it wasn't pressing for the situation and therefore would be something to resolve later.

Interstellar space was overwhelming, eventually, he would just sit and observe everything around him, trying to identify patterns, if there were any, definitely after a while he could not manage to recognize anything, nor his position or how much longer it would take to get somewhere. Sometimes he couldn't help but feel trapped in the vastness of space, he didn't think he would be stranded and lost forever, but, still, the feeling was distressing. 

The loneliness and the silence were desperate.

At least they were, before he suddenly crashed.

|---|

Planet Zanifar, habitable by a species that had arrived millennia ago, called the Fongoid. They found it after accidentally landing near their territory, I couldn't describe them as bad people, they were mostly friendly and highly intelligent, from what they said. They were also engineers recognized by the galaxy.

In short, he had found help. Things seemed to be looking up before his optics. After repairing his systems and certain parts that had been broken with the abrupt crash of the ship, he had shared Drek's plans, warning and gradually accomplishing what he had set out to do, save his galaxy. The Fongoid, being worried by this news, had decided to communicate it immediately to the Polaris government.

But apparently Drek had gone ahead of them.

There was no notice or warning of what had happened in Zanifar, the army of the eccentric businessman attacked the city of the Fongoid, the ships invaded much of the atmospheric space of the planet, attacking left and right everything that ended up in their sights. Communications had been sabotaged long before, there was no way to bring help in time.

The city would not survive, so in an act of haste, and determined to bring help as soon as possible, they had put him in charge of an grown, but still young Fongoid, on a starship bound for Iglak, Meridian city. Clank had at first refused to leave the Fongoid to their fate, but the situation was not a question of what was right or wrong, but what he should do to keep everyone safe, or at least most of them. And with no time to discuss or plan beyond immediately getting off the planet, they took the nearest ship and took off with urgency, without stopping or looking back. At that moment, he couldn't help but feel sad and disappointed in himself, the attack was somewhat imminent, he knew, but even so, he never wished or thought that things would end this way for such a supportive species and completely innocent of the vile acts committed by Drek.

He only hoped that this was not a decision in vain, and soon they could stop the president.

|---|

"The others will be fine, we're not as helpless as you think."

Clank still lost in thought, had not relapsed to his impromptu companion, for all he knew, he was a newly assigned in the complex system of the Fongoid. Still young, but already considered an adult among his people.

"I'm sorry if my actions were taken in such a way, it was not my intention to offend you" Clank justified honestly, greater was his concern for others, who apparently didn't hide it as well as he liked to think.

"I don't really care much, we don't get visitors often" Eli, he remembered his name was, tensely took command of the ship, clearly just as nervous as Clank "Meeting you was... unexpected" Clank remembered seeing the Fongoid check the ship's systems, as he continued the chatter "Anyway, we would all have been in danger sooner or later, better now than later".

"Eli, I'm sorry I caused all this."

"This wasn't your fault" Eli had made that clear all along, he genuinely believed it and never hesitated to remind him " You did the right thing, you sought help and luckily here we are, it's our galaxy too, our home, one we have a responsibility to protect" Clank recalled as his voice held a tone of guilt in words.

"Besides, we the Fongoid, have scores to settle, we have made mistakes in the past, and we will not allow them to happen again, not when we can do something about it" his words clearly hid something, what had he meant by that?

Clank still remembers that last part because of the curiosity it had instilled in him, did the Fongoid feel sorry for something that happened in the past?

"If you don't mind me asking" confused by their conversation, he made no qualms about asking "What-"

Unexpectedly the explosions interrupted him, he never managed to finish the sentence, they were attacking the ship.

The ship's alarms and warnings had gone off, all indicating multiple damage to the lead ship, warning and signaling enemy ships on their sides and rear of the ship, they had almost surrounded them, but they were still moving, now initiating emergency maneuvers, avoiding more shots, and not ending up destroyed in the attempt.

They had not yet reached a radius close enough to turn on the communications and send for help, there were still a few quadrants to go before reaching the nearest ends of the Praxus sector.

At that time, Clank thought that the end of his odyssey had come, he would not be able to help the people of Fongoids who had taken him in and provided security to finish his mission, and it would most likely end in that the Polaris galaxy would not survive President Drek's attack. It would have all been his fault.

Even then, he still remembered avidly what happened, his memory banks would hardly let him forget it, for only one of them survived his ambush.

Eli was brave, he never doubted his actions, Clank believes that the most likely thing for the Fongoid to perform a maneuver in which he had sent Clank in an escape pod and immediately return to face the enemy fleets, was that Eli knew the results of his journey.

But, even so, that didn't make it any easier for Clank to process.

He had survived, at the cost of a young life, which he would have had a lot to live.

Worst of all, besides Eli's sacrifice for him, was why?

Why did Eli give up his life in exchange for his?

How had he come to the conclusion that he had decided to put his life, the life of a complete stranger, a tiny little Robot like him, above his own?

|...|

Clank takes a moment of silence to think, reliving those memories had never been easy for him, even though the years passed and life went on, he would never forget what the young Fongoid had done for him.

"After that, I managed to find help in the Polaris Defense Guard" he ends his story, with a feeling similar to nostalgia, and sadness, for recalling not so happy memories of his early days on "being honest, sometimes I keep thinking about how things would have turned out if I could have done something to help" Clank sighed with lowered optics, simulating an extremely anguished and regretful face, because in the end, he never stopped reflecting on Eli.

He lifts his head, to clear his system of those thoughts that overwhelm him all the time, even so, his optics remain fixed on the ground "It makes me wonder if he would still be alive, or what he would think of me now" he mentions remembering the multiple scenarios his processor had come up with, all the time, after the accident: "A little robot in charge of paperwork in a maximum security prison" deliberating if he would have ended up here anyway: "Trying to help make the galaxy a better place" he says honestly before finishing with determination: "a better place for everyone".

The silence is still there, Clank doesn't pick up a single noise beyond the vents and electricity securing the prisoner's cell. He finds that he really has nothing more to say, and immediately gets up from the floor, gathers his things, and prepares to leave the room.

"You... did you ever find the answer?".

The unusual question forces him to pause, he thinks for a brief moment and concludes that getting a word from Ratchet has been a relief to his already stressed system. Still, he doesn't quite understand what the lombax is referring to with his doubt. He turns his tour around and prepares to approach again.

"The... answer?" prompts Ratchet to explain, hinting at his confusion over the question. Resuming their conversation at last only gives him reason to continue.

The robot watches the lombax closely, waiting patiently on his feet for clarification. Seconds pass and Clank feels like the universe might as well have stopped because of the tension flooding into his systems, and his anxiety for more than just that.

Finally, after a long silence submerged in uncertainty, Ratchet agrees and speaks.

"Why..." the words seem to fail you, still, that doesn't discourage him in the slightest and he continues "Why would anyone risk anything for a complete stranger...?" he tries to make out his own words in barely a whisper. The doubt of something as unheard of as that doesn't stop bothering him and he needs an answer " Why did he decide to save you instead?".

Ratchet looks up, recognizing for the first time in days the presence of the tiny robot, looking for an honest answer to his life, and finding that maybe all is not lost.

Trying to find an answer to a question that was important to him, but that he still didn't really understand.

Just looking for a way out of his misery...

"I honestly never found the answer, even after all these years..." Clank responds without preamble, stating nothing more than a truth recognizing that a lie would not be worth the attempt.

Ratchet is disappointed, and despondently thinks that the answer to something like this he would never know, even if he reasoned it out and longed to understand, he simply wouldn't understand. Without realizing it, immersed in his thoughts, Clank hasn't finished answering the question in hand. 

"But I think I finally understand why he risked everything to save me" the robot can't stop himself from smiling, understanding what Eli had done for him.

And without prolonging any further, he explains what he understood for Ratchet.

"He decided to give me a chance, not for his own convenience or to fulfill his mission" he clarifies firmly with truthfulness in each of his words "He gave me a chance so that I could get out alive, he trusted me to save his home, so that no one would have to go through the same" he points out, trying to get the important point of that across.

Getting the answer to the question, Clank doesn't stop there and continues, recognizing that what he has to say is and will be important not only to Ratchet, but also to himself.

"Ratchet, I want to give you a chance, it wasn't fair what you had to do to end up here" Clank says honestly, acknowledging all that has happened in the stories told of the lombax "I.... I don't think you're a bad person, and I wish you could have confidence in me, like I have in you" he continues and expresses with his own feelings, even if he doesn't fully understand them, because if he's still here trying again and again, it's because he knows inside himself that he's doing the right thing, and also... "Because to help, you must do your part as well as me and allow me to help you".

The aphony is present again, and one senses in the atmosphere as both parties mull over the words barely uttered. Clank has no objection to what he said, because it is the truth. But Ratchet still thinks it through, what does this mean for him?...

" Can, you're a very naive idiot" he says growling each of his words, his annoyance clearly reflected in his features. But Clank knows he hasn't finished speaking yet and prefers to wait in silence.

...

"And, the truth is, so am I" he declares, agreeing to receive what he was never offered in his life.

Help.

Random imagen xD

Chapter Text

"Irony is a sadness that can neither cry nor laugh."
-Jacinto Benavente.

|...|

The Holo-vision in the mess hall was always on, it was wide enough for everyone to see it from any perspective as they entered the place, announcing all kinds of news outside the fortified walls of the prison. Clank was always reminded of how vast his home was, where absolutely everything was happening, always recounting recent events throughout the galaxy, and of course, the tense situation of the Guard on Polaris regarding certain prisoners.

Personally, Clank almost never shows up at the inmates' mess, their own systems are self-sufficient of the energy that could provide the organic food they offer, he just stays there to listen to the intergalactic news and be aware of the situations the Polaris population is going through, at the same time he reviews his report to deliver to the Warden and be able to rush to find tangible evidence rather than just the prisoner's word and his own. Certainly his case is complicated to solve, and the short time he has available does not help his already compromised situation in the least.

Nor does the news contribute positively to anything.

The Holo-vision clearly shows a robotic commentator announcing from her post as part of channel 64 what is going on inside the prison: "In other news, we finally received the official status report from the Polaris government regarding the most dangerous pair of criminals ever seen in our galaxy" Clank listens attentively without having the need to see the Holo-vision, he carefully reviews his report in his hands, seriously deliberating on visiting Ratchet again to ask certain things that leaves him in doubt.

"While the alleged transport of the infamous villain Vendra Prog to the Vartax Detention Center has been confirmed according to the official call from the Warden in charge of Zordoom Prison, the trial of the newest inmate in their ranks is still pending."

Now Clank is really interested in what they have to say, somehow he knows that the world of news, always finds to tuck in and do at their convenience a multitude of important matters, matters that don't concern them in the least as well.

"One of the worst recognized bloodthirsty genocidaires in the Solana and Polaris galaxies" everyone in the mess hall knows who he is referring to, no one missed the big news of the new newcomer to Zordoom: "A Lombax called Ratchet, known to be a former commander and leader of the military forces of the now deceased and self-proclaimed Emperor Percival Tachyon" multiple images are shown on screen, exposing Ratchet, in different positions, the last image is of his profile as a prisoner "He is still awaiting trial, although, our polls, believes many are only awaiting his now inevitable execution by the Polaris Government."

The last thing he hears is already somewhat disturbing, but definitely not something new, everyone is just waiting to rise up for justice by death, and if he's honest, Clank will never understand that reasoning.

"However, in an investigation by our top field reporter J. Alvaro, reports more particularly on the situation" the reporter Clank fails to recognize, firmly raises her report saying, "Allegedly her investigation reveals that the trial is still held without an imposed date due to a delay in the investigations regarding the lombax" she announces with extreme emphasis on 'delay', which makes his optics flip with annoyance, it doesn't even look like they are trying to hide their intentions to cause a stir in the viewers, Clank decides to hold that thought and continues to listen: "This has caused the multiple victims of the crimes to speak out, demanding an immediate response from Warden Sasha Phyronix" which reminds him, he has to go talk to her "Without an official statement yet, the matter will remain for posterity for now" he hears the statement end and stops listening when they start talking about other topics "In other news...".

He is aware that everything is getting worse.

Even with this, Clank will not give up, time is of the essence and he will do the last thing he can to resolve this. He gets up from his seat and silently leaves the almost full dining room, immersed in the bustle of all kinds of officials and administrators in charge of maintaining Zordoom like him.

| ... |

"Clank I need to talk to you."

Clank agreed with that part, but he had a feeling it wouldn't exactly be a good thing in his case. He jointly followed the Warden to her office, mentally preparing himself, processing and assessing all possible situations that could occur at that moment.

Finally reaching the outskirts of the office, she crossed the Warden's decorated gate after the Hunt, mustering just in time enough courage to face what she already knew they would be discussing.

"This is a mess" Sasha quickly crosses the side of the robot, and walks over to his desk cluttered with papers and holo-screens with reports of all kinds.

"Sasha, I-"

"Clank, I don't want pity" she spares no interruption as she takes a place in his chair, and continues right away, clearly with frustration in her voice "Just tell me that doing this was worth it and that it wasn't a waste of resources" she glares at him, silently waiting for an answer.

Clank sighs inwardly, this isn't going any better than he imagined.

"Sasha this is not a waste of time" he assures in a calm monotone voice, he doesn't stop there and continues "As I suspected, there are facts that may help your case" he begins to move closer to the desk and drops the report he was carrying in his hands on the table "maybe not amend all your crimes, but I think it's a better starting point for how things declined to this point".

As he hands over his report, he just silently hopes that it is enough to support and justify his multiple visits and talks with Ratchet. He watches as the Cazar face changes as time passes reading and analyzing the writing, ending in a frown at the end. Although Clank is not very expressive and often finds it difficult to read an expression, he knows from experience that this is not a good sign.

"Clank this..." he hears her go speechless for a moment before finishing "this is very dangerous" she says holding the device tautly, still not stopping to reread it again.

"I don't think you're considering-"

"No, I don't mean the prisoner Clank" she clarifies and explains the reason for his concern "This, the Dimensionator..." she mentions in disbelief, almost as if he would prefer it to be a bad joke "Did they find it?" she leaves the information for a moment to look at Clank once more.

The question leaves him without an answer, he hadn't considered such an artifact in all the time he asked about Ratchet's past, more specifically, he didn't consider it something of utmost importance, at least not until now it seems.

"No, I..." he pauses silently as he recalls what was hinted at in the stories "Ratchet mentioned that they could never find it, at least not before he murdered Tachyon" silently he also questions himself if perhaps mentioning it wasn't a good idea "is it dangerous?".

Sasha didn't give an immediate answer, to her look, she seemed more thoughtful than worried, analyzing something particular....

"Not in question, but depending on its use, from what little we know it may be one of the most dangerous weapons of mass destruction ever created" she says, research had revealed a lot of troubling information "From various archeological research it was discovered that it was an artifact used hundreds of years ago by the Lombax in war against the Cragmites" she expounds before confirming what Clank already suspected "They wiped them all out before disappearing."

Knowing that for sure, doesn't make it any better for Clank, will Ratchet know about this? The history of the Lombax had never been known enough in the galaxy, the Lombax were probably one of the least known races in the universe and their extinction only caused everyone to forget them completely, barely being recognized by Ratchet.

Sasha unaware of the robot's thoughts continues to explain:

"The full details of that are not yet known, but sources suspect it was the same weapon that made the lombax disappear" she says as he looks at the papers on the desk, before turning to his right and looking at a map of the Polaris galaxy attached to the wall, multiple red dots are framed and highlighted on it, enclosed and linked by distinct red threads "And this just proves it's still here, hidden on some planet in Polaris" he stares for a moment before uttering a thought they both share "This is worrisome".

Clank begins to wonder something pressing to the matter at hand, but at the same time he wishes he was wrong and not right about the idea "You're not planning to conduct a search or are you?".

"No, not in the least" Sasha immediately says, returning his gaze to the only one present in the office "Disclosure of this information could be dangerous for everyone" she explains as she opens a compartment in his desk and puts down Clank's report "If searches for a real Dimensionator begin, chances are that someone will find it sooner or later, and without a care or in the wrong hands it could spark an intergalactic war" closing the drawer, she secures it by running her ID over the implemented security system, with her being the only one who could take back what could unleash a disproportionate disaster for the galaxy, before smugly decreeing.

"I will not take that risk."

Having already affirmed and finalized their plans, only one last topic remains to be discussed "For now it will remain between us" she states leaving no room for discussion "But, regarding the prisoner...".

"Ratchet" Clank says without thinking and immediately explains his full reasoning, trying not to sound flustered by the slip "His name is Ratchet".

Sasha takes a moment frowning slightly, thinking about Clank's words, but decides to let it go for now, and take note for future conjecture, there seemed to be some confidence in the robot's words, with his correctness, also discerning... companionship?

Without questioning Clank, she continues with what she was saying, "Regarding Ratchet, I need to announce a trial date now and your time is running out Clank" she blurts out without reservation, and says with frankness in all his acting, "So, I'll be honest with you, this isn't enough to help the case" she crosses his arms in the process and leans over the desk, to observe Clank on the other side of the desk.

"But, that's..." wordlessly Clank can't find something to say, either to defend his work or in his case, Ratchet's situation, but Sasha isn't done yet.

"Look, I know your report has been enlightening on many points to consider, but it's still not enough information, so the last thing I can offer you is one more week, do you think that's enough for you?" she offers the last thing he could probably get before making the trial as soon as possible.

Clank mulls over the Cazar's words before finally replying, "No, it won't be, but thanks for getting me more time, I'll make it worth your while Warden."

|| ... ||

"So, there's a deadline then" Clank hears Ratchet snort from his resting position in his cell; eyes closed, frowns furrowed, hands behind his head "What a surprise" the lombax says quietly sarcastically.

"Yes, but that doesn't matter much, we'll be able to solve this in less time, I'm convinced" he assures confidently, taking place on the floor, for the long time he'll probably be there.

Ratchet opens his eyes for a moment and can't help but notice how determined the little robot defect is with solving his complicated situation, taking the matter more seriously than he does and equally doesn't help but feel... Grateful.

To know that, with what he is and what he has done, there could be people who want to understand him and his past, just to help him solve his present and save his life, is something...

It's really something.

Ratchet doesn't think twice before uttering what he never thought he would say willingly or willingly.

"Hey Cans" he begins before immediately retracting, remembering to try to be more considerate and corrects himself by saying clearly, "Clank, I..." he pauses for a moment, thinking about how to express himself, and if he's completely sure of what he wants to say.

"I want to thank you, thank you for staying here" he finally says, wonders in his thoughts if this will detract from the dignity of his already wretched person, but immediately puts it aside and realizes that, if so, he doesn't care, adding, "it's more than anyone has ever done for me."

Clank doesn't hear him sad when he says this, to his look, it seems more like genuine happiness from all the acting he's shown the whole time he's been there, it's an unexpected change, but it doesn't make it any less gratifying.

"And don't expect an apology for the nickname, Cans will definitely stay with you" even grateful, his pedantic attitude doesn't change in the slightest "Clank" he finishes, intoning consideration and respect to him.

In the moment, her words were something Clank definitely didn't expect at all, but for him, even if he still hears this from a smug and proud lombax, it doesn't change his words or what he said and it doesn't stop being a pleasant sentiment. A smile begins to figure on his metallic face, showing how happy he certainly is with their feud already settled, confirming that he was not wrong in his choice.

"It's nothing Ratchet, I'm happy we can agree on that" Clank doesn't scoff or try to throw Ratchet in Ratchet's face, something the lombax is grateful for, allowing him to sigh with relief, silently of course.

"So, shall we continue?" suggests Ratchet dropping his relaxed stance, taking a more upright one, showing the seriousness he chooses to take in the matter, extremely more calm and steady than when they first met.

"The sooner the better."

Ratchet without a concrete idea of how to go on, relents by letting Clank ask whatever he wants "Okay, tell me what else do you need to know?".

"It's really hard to find something that can benefit us, but it's indispensable to know, how you started to, well, end up like this" you can almost discern a trace of hesitation from the robot, trying to be cautious when asking.

The lombax couldn't care less, he knows well what he is trying to say "As a villain? I already said it, Tachyon found me in Veldin when I was eight years old" he mentions abbreviating, avoiding saying practically everything that remains to be said, something Ratchet doesn't feel ready to tell "there's not much more to say about it" he tries to close the subject and turns his gaze away from the robot.

Clank still senses that it's something important to Ratchet, so he doesn't allow the matter to end and states, clearly intending to undermine "It's not the whole story, is it Ratchet?" he squints his optics, objecting with his words.

Ratchet finally allowing his help was something Clank certainly felt grateful for, but even accepting this on the lombax's part, a part of him balks, refusing to fully acquiesce. 

Stunned, the lombax stutters, speechless "I..." he utters before sighing, tired and resigned he reveals why "I really don't want to talk about it, it's something I still regret".

Although Clank would prefer to go ahead and have them be able to talk in depth, he doesn't want to insist, he won't force Ratchet in any way to tell something he doesn't want to talk about, and decides that, although relevant, it will be a topic for another time.

"It's fine if you don't want to talk about it, we can find something else" as he says this he checks his holo-screen and sets out to find something else to choose to discuss.

Yet, Ratchet immediately regrets what he said, no longer wanting to keep that part he was always remembering, getting frustrated all the time thinking about what would have happened, if he could change his choice to join the cragmite.

"No, if anyone should know that, that would be you Cans" Ratchet voiced, his ears lowered a bit as he began to recount in essence what he remembers "But, in short, I was but an orphan boy when Tachyon appeared in Veldin" he rests his hands on his knees squeezing them slightly and frowns, a clear sign of annoyance "Back then, I was too naive and foolish, I didn't have a family or a home, I stole often to have food and only entertained myself by fixing machines I found in the dump" his mouth twists into a grimace, remembering his pitiful beginning was something he hated too much, despite that, he continued: "I planned to fix a ship and leave the planet as soon as I could, I didn't have a plan in mind on where to go from there, I just wanted to... " with his gaze scattered across the floor and without really observing him, he remembers what he dreamed of accomplishing back then "explore, visit planets, meet more people who were nice, find a place to stay, work as a mechanic" so many dreams lost because of his stubbornness and unjustified hatred that always blinded him.

"I always had hopes of finding my family" he remembers looking up at the stars every night at the planet where he was, waiting, wishing awake for something that never came, wondering the reason: "I wanted to know the reason why I was left behind" he stops abruptly before reaching the important part.

He returns a flat, unfeeling gaze to Clank as he continues: "And then Tachyon happened, when he arrived on the plateau where I lived, I thought I would die along with the people who perished in his 'little' attack" raw contempt radiates from his words, not stopping this time "he told many lies about my race" he says regretting like a fool to tell it, how could he have believed everything the bastard said without question for years?" now feeling angry at himself he stated truthfully "my frustration only made things worse".

He calmed down for a moment and in the instant he remembers a thought, something that was always present in his head when he heard it from the cragmite.

"Knowing he was there just to find me, it changed things" at the time as then he couldn't help but feel confused, he couldn't find a logical reason until the truth literally hit him in the face, too, in the form of a certain traitor.

"I joined him for revenge, I wanted to find the lombax just to exterminate them so I could feel good about myself for once" he says almost whispering, without a trace of emotion in his voice, Ratchet feels nothing as he says this.

At that, Clank finds the opportune moment to bring up a doubt that has been bothering him since the lombax discovered the truth about Tachyon: "Ratchet, about that, there's something I don't understand yet" engrossed in his notes he asks innocently, "having gone so long without realizing it, how did you discover that Tachyon was lying to you?"

...

...

...

The same thought as before, why a cragmite was specifically looking for him, the last of the lombax, or failing that, one of the last two in that dimension.

His acting changes drastically and dramatically, his eyes seem spiteful but calm, his mouth does not avoid disfiguring into a whimsical but crooked smile, his body remains tense and his ears stand straight and high, almost with a certain waiting for something, something Ratchet knows will never return.

"It's... it's a funny thing Cans" his voice, though strained, sits with a smug air in the cell and observing Clank he blurts out something that, though important, in no way affects his situation any further, saying loud and effete, "In fact, I wasn't the only lombax left behind."

Ratchet almost wants to laugh at the stupefied look on the robot's face, if it weren't for the terrible bitter pill he knows this story will have to tell, he might enjoy this for longer.

Jaw slightly ajar, wide optics clearly watching him, and not a word from Clank.

After a few seconds, and still confused the robot manages to ask, "What do you mean?".

Ratchet more than prepared for what he will tell, casually mentions to the robot.

"I guess you never heard of a certain Alister Azimuth, did you?" without waiting for an answer he adds, almost amusingly cruel: "It's a tragic story really, well, it all started with him."

|| ... ||

Sometimes the universe has a cruel sense of humor, that was something he had to learn the hard way.

Who knew that his first encounter with a lombax would have such irony, how the past and the present have a habit of colliding more often than they are related, one being a part of the other, connected, but by nature distant. He always sensed that even if things were not as they are, Alister's death was something inevitable, for which he did not plan to feel guilty.

It wasn't his fault at all, Azimuth was searching for something impossible. Ending his quest was only mercy on his part.

He should not feel guilty.

|...|

Someone was trying to get attention, personally his attention.

To say he was discreet was not being truthful, the messages were crystal clear, someone clever was trying to get his attention in Polaris.

At the beginning the indications had been infrequent, he attacked his troops quickly and erratically, without leaving any trace or tangible evidence of who or what he really was, he eliminated entire battalions, specifically those who had orders to wait outside Solana, the same ones organized for the arrival and early conquest of Polaris, which only hindered his plans, delaying him, and mortifying him more than he wanted to let it affect him. And unlike his own battles, against the Solarian Guard, these attacks were not ostentatious or numerous, they were furtive and almost silent, destroying a good part of their ranks, and his soldiers, although numerically deadly, even with the number, armament and the simple advantage in the field, did not succeed in triumphing over the infamous rebel. With the first attacks and after failing, he had given himself the task of beginning to guard the battle posts closest to Polaris, which were his preferred bombing sites, but ironically never coincided attacks in places where he concurred to be.

The most unheard of thing is that he did not limit himself only to leave a mess wherever he was, he also transmitted very picturesque messages, he took the macabre task of piling up lifeless bodies in the places where his gratifying messages awaited, colorful red writings were painted in an unknown language, highlighting the important places to be deciphered. However, none of it made any sense to him, multiple scribbles and gibberish writing possessed no meaning in his eyes, should he know how to read dead languages?

To him it just seemed like a mockery, an elaborate and ''funny'' joke for some idiot know-it-all somewhere in the Polaris galaxy. Enraged, as a commander and leader, this was dishonorable, demeaning, just plain embarrassing, it made HIM and therefore HIM look like a fool! Almost as if he was being put to the test, testing his abilities like a child in an exam, to HIM, a commander of his own army!

Oh, Ratchet wouldn't allow that, dead first before anyone would question His Authority. But even his best efforts in laying various traps, strategies and putting basically the entire regiment of the empire on guard for a single rebel were not enough. And fed up with failing again, he then set out to finish the guy off by his own hand, vowing to pierce his head or slit his throat as soon as he found him, for daring to defy him.

But already determined to finish the little bastard off, questions also began to have a presence in his head, as well as curiosity about this particular case, not only because of how strange it was, but also why he had never had to meddle or take anything similar seriously before, and although it seemed like a stupid joke, something told him it was nothing of the sort.

Something didn't feel right, something was definitely not right.

In his thoughts, he vowed to himself not to continue to make a big deal out of the feeling. For now it was only distracting him, and Ratchet had a mission to finish.

Track, find, and kill.

|...|

Ratchet had his methods to always find or get what he wanted, stealing, killing, threatening, any kind of violence driven act that would attempt someone's life, worked for him.

Finding information and going unnoticed was child's play, he did it all the time on his missions, going solo was fun, certainly liberating from his responsibilities, not having to be on the lookout for his militia's every move, it was considerably less pressure to make everything go right in each and every battle.

Remembering why he was in the Vela sector of Polaris. He finally found his target.

Torren IV, a planet located on the borders of the Polaris galaxy, ringed with an asteroid belt, deserted and almost empty, only complemented by land and cliffs, inhabited by a particular species called Vullard, who took advantage of the abundant scrap metal on the planet, their description almost reminded him of Veldin, before he destroyed it, of course. Target; one Alister Azimuth, rebel, and main frustration of their plans, he seemed subtly known for hindering tyrants, villains and all who hindered him in his goals, hard to kill in the words of the guy who killed for information. Ratchet was a firm believer in the saying 'nothing is impossible' as he has certainly been rejecting everything people say and talk about him and although the odds were never in his favor, his persistence never let him die.

Not wanting to keep his pen pal waiting, in his starfighter he decides to enter the planet and just hopes that this will be more entertaining than his little adventure with the metal pirates.

|...|

His gathered information pointed to the location of the Molonoth Fields, it was all he could get before he got there, though he didn't think he needed more than that, Ratchet would find it anyway, landing his ship, he didn't hesitate to go down right away and check his surroundings, the air was dry, full of dust and engulfed in an oily smell, nearby there might be a factory, he thinks for a moment, before leaving the thought and moving forward, exploring.

After scouring the place for hours, he finally found on the rocky side of a cliff a blocked entrance, too protected for a dwelling like the Vullard's, standing out exaggeratedly in a deserted place forgotten by all. Without an idea to open it, he decided he wouldn't break his head thinking about it, instead, he could debut his new fusion grenades and watch them explode with greater power than the previous versions.

|...|

Will continue...

Chapter Text

||...||

The place looked abandoned and clutter was piled everywhere with no indication of any relation between so many notes and what looked like random junk, in the background he could make out something more relevant. Papers were scattered on the small desk that sat at the end of one wall next to a whiteboard with multiple data and photos inserted, connected by different threads, and unusually all pointing to a single photograph in the center; a picture of him.

Apprehensive and puzzled by this, I looked more closely at what I had found. Picking up one of the notes on the board and tearing it off to examine it, he read what was written on it:

#128: The boy works for Tachyon, apparently has been doing this for years, my research indicates he has destroyed entire planets on Solana, all in the name of the cragmite, directly commands an army of his own and seems more than ready for another war, this time on Polaris. Worst of all, there seems to be no logical reason for him to associate with Tachyon.

*Further investigation is needed.

Ratchet pauses for a moment to reflect. The guy really was obsessed with him. Dropping it, he picks up another piece of paper and begins to read:

#176: The guy just goes on and on, he seems to be preparing his grand entrance to Polaris, there are battleships and full platoons on the outskirts of Solana, ready to move in at the first order of their commander, Ratchet, from what he's heard from the soldiers. I can't allow that, an invasion now, so close to my target is unheard of, I'm months away from being able to discover a real clue to the location, I can fix things, and I won't have to see this horrible present.

*I will have to stop the frontal advance, I cannot allow it to advance and destroy my work.

Ratchet hates it when you call him a boy, taking him for a child, he's not a child anymore.

Crumpling the blade hard and spitefully for a moment, he instantly drops it and rips the one closest to his hand, he feels fury at the remarks he skims through, discovering the intruder who seems to have slipped away back-to-back times in his armada. The bastard underestimated him too, too much. Still indignant he read again:

#231: I have left several messages for the guy, but my efforts have not yielded any results. He seems ignorant to these, he doesn't seem to understand his own native language, it's frustrating. My attacks have made him alert, he seems to want to catch me now. My sneak attacks will no longer be as effective if I manage to alert more than one battalion. I'm running out of options, I can only try one thing before giving up;

*Talk to him, convince him to help me find his target.

Pd; if it doesn't work, he won't have a choice.

Analyzing for a second what you say, can't understand, what do you mean? native language? options? and please?

Convince him? him? who did he think this guy was? These notes were strange, there were missing pieces of information, fundamental pieces, it looked like an incomplete and unintelligible puzzle.

Dropping the sheet, it fell to the ground, not making noise at all, then decided to stop reading the messages and leave the rest intact, about to turn around to continue investigating, he noticed one more note, hidden under his photograph framed in a red circle, this however was crossed out, wrinkled and battered, trying to read it, I focus my gaze.

Kill him.

Then he heard a noise.

Fully alert and with a strong sense of imminent death, he almost instantly turned around, and with a second to react dodged the blow, destined to pierce him. Thrown aside, Ratchet watched his would-be assailant.

And he couldn't believe his eyes.

Another one like him.

Another lombax.

Stunned he almost failed to avoid the next blow his would-be assassin unleashed, fervently trying to embed his strange OmniWrench in Ratchet. Watching him and analyzing, without thinking Ratchet deduced a couple of obvious things. The other lombax had a grayer coat and his stance spoke of a skilled fighter, perhaps a soldier, the visible stripes framing his body were reddish, his height was almost a head taller than Ratchet, and the fellow looked of great age, a war veteran.

This scared him, it didn't make sense! What was a lombax doing there?!

Without stopping moving, or letting himself take a single hit, he stopped to think, he wanted answers, and unless he managed to stop it long enough to beat what he needed out of it, he shouldn't allow himself any harm, he would end up dead in a second of distraction.

He held his own OmniWrench tightly, and prepared to attack. The first blow was to the head, and of course the other had no trouble missing it completely, sending his own attack, grazing his face by inches. With growing rage Ratchet began to lunge, trying to land a blow, however, all were blocked by the old lombax, who like him, did not hesitate to throw blows left and right.

Fed up and frustrated by every second spent fighting, with unbridled movements, full of anger and adrenaline, Ratchet had a slip, being thrown to the other end of the site, with the blow he received only cushioned by multiple scattered junk and trash. He grunted from the pain of the landing, his back was bruised, as was his chest. The armor only withstood a certain amount of frontal attacks, but with his opponent, it probably wouldn't withstand more than a few more blows.

Without realizing it, his assailant was almost on top of him to land another blow. Practically somersaulting, using his hands to propel himself backwards, he avoided the deadly attack and was on his feet, crouched and in a defensive position in a second, his flexibility helping him a lot in this kind of situation.

Then, feeling a fed up from the gray lombax, he finally heard it speak;

"TRAITOR!" he shouted angrily, the contempt in every word felt heavy, wrapped in spite, Ratchet couldn't understand it, it was almost hilariously ironic.

Incredulous, feeling the hypocritical irony in the air, Ratchet completely beside himself, can't help but retort with a twisted smile on his face, reflecting in his tone more amusement than irritation.

"ME, TRAITOR?! That's ironic coming from you!" he replies, almost laughing hysterically, Ratchet is not to blame for being the way he is and no longer cares in the slightest.

Somehow, he feels he could collapse right there and he wouldn't mind at all, but he doesn't want to stop having fun with the situation, he wants to take advantage, he will have to press for answers, then they will see who of the two will fall first. Ratchet begins to slowly walk around the other lombax, Alister for his part goes with the flow entering into their little deadly dance, as if it were a bare-knuckle fight, neither of them looking away from their opponent.

"After all, weren't you the self-proclaimed heroes of the galaxy?!" he instigates with exaggerated gestures, pointing out the falsity of what his kind was, airily exclaiming, "That was nothing but lies!".

"You're cowards!" he continues to denounce, clenching the OmniWrench between his right hand, barely containing his urge to pierce the other's head, and make him suffer before letting him die by his hands "All of you!".

"You know nothing, boy!" he grudges Ratchet, resentful to a fault, his pride will not allow him to be called a coward, Alister is more than that.

"I know enough!" Ratchet refutes at once, and not completely satisfied with his answer he continues with his truth-ridden accusations, "I know how you left this dimension to save your miserable species!" as he said that, he began to feel a strongly rooted hatred for their situation and those who did nothing, claiming, "Abandoning those who didn't make it to their fate, you left many to die after your damned war!".

"That wasn't our fault!" tries to explain Alister with disgrace in his voice, saying, "We had no choice!".

Ratchet, hearing him try to justify himself, can't stop the hatred from flowing through his system. Feeling the blood pooling from anger and a growl rising from his throat, he gritted his teeth to restrain himself, but failed to stop himself from glaring red.

And exclaiming he revealed what so much frustration had been dragging around for as long as he could remember: "I WAS ABANDONED ON A RETARDED, STUPID PLANET!".

Barely keeping control over his body so as not to lash out yet, he mentions spitefully and with the hostility palpable in him, "You abandoned me to my fate" less than sad, and tearing his voice with each word he shouts clear and loud, "I had to suffer so much because of your stupid decisions!".

Stopping, he brings Alister to a halt as well, and guarding his thoughts once more, he prefers to make his goals clear.

"But it's okay, I don't care anymore" he says without taking his gaze away from the grayish lombax's, a light smile escapes his mouth, and his eyes remain open, not blinking for any second as he says that.

Ratchet's icy cold stare manages to disturb Alister, wondering how deranged the young lombax must be to act so deadpan.

Undeterred, Ratchet continues, "You know, I even had plenty of time to think about that" he hints with a narrowing of his eyes, sensing a stupid grin grow on his face with each word, saying "And I want to return the favor."

With a pained grimace on his mouth, what is supposed to be a big smile, he enunciates, disturbingly excited "I'll be sure to exterminate all of you" suddenly his frown deepens, and the smile twists into a grimace of loathing "The lombax are the worst mistake the universe exists" and with pleasure wrapped in his voice, he says "A mistake I'll be more than happy to fix".

Alister horrified by what he hears, distressingly alarmed by the boy's incredibly twisted reasoning, does not shy away from protesting:

"Are you listening to yourself boy!?" he demands, feeling mortified anguish rush into his voice "You're insane!" he accuses indiscriminately before demanding, "You plan to extinguish your own race?!" he says as if the very idea is impossible and at the same time incoherent "Your PEOPLE?!" this time anger seeps through his words.

Ratchet lets out a great laugh in response to the other's words, amusingly finding the irony in the situation, and without waiting for a response from Alister, still chuckling he replies:

"My race?" he alludes funny, as if what he heard was just a bad joke, pretending to wipe an imaginary tear from his eyes "The people who never did anything for me?" the laughter falls as soon as he continues and says: "No, I never wanted to be this, what I am has only brought me death for as long as I can remember" he says hollowly, totally insensitive to his words, before bursting into a loud shout: "Being this, has only been a damned disgrace!".

He then decides to be honest and tells, "To tell you the truth, I would have preferred to die long ago" there is nothing but a flat look on his face when he says this as he continues to explain "But, I'm too stubborn for that, so I preferred to make the most of the crappy life I have and do something of use".

A fake smile takes over right away and he mentions "If I were you, I wouldn't care anymore" before adding cruelly, "You'll be rotting in the ground by the time I take them all out."

Alister aware of what is necessary for that, rebuts, trying to hold back with the young lombax with how illogical his plans are, without a certain object; "You don't even know where to find them you little brat."

Ratchet almost wants to openly sneer in old Alister's face, but restrains himself, and decides it will be more entertaining to see his expression if he tells him himself what Azimuth ignores, and he knows.

With a nonchalant smile he begins "Did you really think I hadn't thought of that? " he expresses before he begins to reveal with smugness in his gestures "Here, I'm going to let you in on a little secret, decrepit old man" he says almost whispering, and with emphasis continues to divulge: "The Dimensionator is hidden around here in Polaris, and it will only be a matter of time before we find it" as he says this he doesn't avoid enjoying watching as Alister's face seems to quiver with every word that comes out of his mouth "They won't even see us coming" the satisfaction that represents fear in his eyes only increases and cruelly he continues engrossed in getting more: "And by then they'll be dead".

Alister looks unsure, as if he doesn't know what to answer to this and Ratchet continues, this time with an entirely different question.

"Which reminds me, this is unusual," he says as he leans on his OmniWrench, as if it were a cane, and holds his chin suspiciously questioningly, "That not all the Lombax had fled like cowards long ago?"

Without stopping, he points out something very obvious that he had not reasoned before "And you are the only one in the back" narrowing his eyes half suspiciously "Why would that be?".

...

At this Alister doesn't respond, just stands still, his eyelids slightly furrowed. To Ratchet, he looks thoughtful, but not entirely unwilling to his question, and presses for more than just silence.

"What, no answer?" he pauses for a moment before replying "Perhaps-". 

"Why are you with Tachyon?"

The question comes without warning, and he doesn't like where the conversation is headed.

"That's none of your business old man" he replies sternly, with repudiation in his words, the same repudiation beginning to show on his face and the feeling that their entertaining small talk has just ended. He immediately takes a defensive posture, ready to receive anything.

"If it concerns me" Alister replies, almost with a lower tone in his voice before he begins to question him, "Tell me something Ratchet, do you believe everything Tachyon told you regarding the past?" he summarizes in brief what he seeks to know and asks "Did he tell you the whole story?".

"Do you trust that he told you the truth?".

Ratchet unable to find an honest or clear answer to this, prefers not to start hesitating now, he knows what he wants and has always sought.

"Don't try to make me doubt, you're all liars-" he doesn't even manage to finish before Alister stops him in his tracks with his important questioning.

Something that was always present in his thoughts, but never got his answer no matter how much he thought about it.

"Do you want to know why you're here?" Ratchet barely hears him say and immediately realizes he doesn't want to know the answer "Know why you're not with the other lombax?".

Not wanting to hear it anymore he perjuredly says, "I don't care!" that's a lie and he doesn't want to hear the truth, then exclaims in denial, "Shut the fuck up!" and prepares to attack.

Ratchet doesn't want to hear it, he knows what he'll say and doesn't think he can take it. But about to attack, Alister does not remain silent, instead he declares the truth that Ratchet both desired and refused to get.

"Your father sacrificed everything to save you!" says Alister almost desperately trying to make Ratchet understand, what his actions meant.

And Ratchet even refusing to listen can't help but catch each and every word coming out of the other, indisputably stopping him from raising his weapon and attacking, completely freezing him in place, unable to comprehend.

Why did he care so much?

"His duty was to his people and his family!".

He feels his legs shaking, slowly losing his composure. He shouldn't care, nothing he says should matter to him, he's lying, it's impossible that this random guy knew his family-.

"Kaden did everything he could so that no one could destroy what he worked so hard to protect!".

Without taking his eyes off him, Ratchet feels himself losing his will to fight. He can barely hold his OmniWrench and knows his face only shows how much he's being affected by a couple of expletives. Because it can't be true... can it?

"And now here you are, shattering his work" Ratchet can hear him say in disgust, not letting him process enough "smearing on innocent blood his legacy as the Dimensionator's Guardian."

Guardian? His father?

"He would be so disappointed to see what you have become" Alister continues, fully intent on grieving him, trying to bring him down.

"The very reason he didn't survive" he reveals, certain of the reaction he wants to get from Ratchet "a murderer."

And Ratchet gave in to what he wanted to get from the grizzled lombax.

"YOU DON'T -".

Then it all happened so fast.

He let his guard down, taking the hit, and it almost cost him an eye.

The older lombax isn't holding back any of his blows, he can feel the blood splattering in his wounds, with limited eyesight, he can barely defend himself with his OmniWrench, but it's not enough.

An incredibly strong blow from his opponent's weapon, sends him practically flying, sending him crashing to the hard ground, where he can barely perceive anything apart from the pain that consumes his whole body, gasping for air, when he can't make his breathing work properly. On his back, terribly aware of the danger he is in, Ratchet tries to get up, propping himself up on his elbows, grunting from the probable internal bleeding he is sure, he is suffering from. But his legs don't seem willing to get up, and the young lombax curses internally, the situation is making him desperate.

"All is not lost Ratchet."

He hears footsteps slowly approaching him, who is practically crippled, unable to get up and defend himself in any way. But even so, he is not going to give up, with determined effort, he manages to move his legs, and get up as fast as he can to be face to face with the grayish lombax, without letting go of his OmniWrench for a moment, he is only able to get defensive, while he watches the other one approaching step by step.

"I can fix this" he hears him say, but with his limited sight, he can barely make out Alister's figure, blood is staining his vision, this is bad "My quest will make none of this ever happen!".

He can't understand what Alister is saying, what on earth is he saying?

"I made a mistake in trusting Percival a long time ago" he declares, Ratchet distinguishes the guilt in his voice, accompanied with dejection, and immediately with determination he declares; "And I will mend that" before feeling sorry for him, and saying in a certain apology "You won't have to suffer for much longer boy".

Ratchet still doesn't understand any delusional ideas of the old lombax and dares to demand; "What on earth are you talking about?".

Alister's sudden silence doesn't please him, and he knows he's on dangerous ground.

"Never mind, you won't remember anyway" is all he deigns to say, and attacks.

Thanks to his senses, in advance Ratchet could see the coming blow, and with no time to miss, he defended himself. The blow hit full on his OmniWrench and didn't stop there, weapon against weapon they continued to press against each other, with Ratchet losing ground with the greater strength of the other, subduing him for seconds, forcing his knees to buckle under the weight he was under trying to bear down with all the strength he had left.

"I-I thought-" barely stammering, he starts again trying to say more clearly "I thought you said I wouldn't have to suffer anymore" Ratchet growled barely holding the words coming out of his already gritted teeth, and feels the blood pouring out of the wound in his eye, it burns like hell.

"And that I intend to do, when I have worked out my wrong" he continues to subdue him, trying to pin him to the ground "But you are unstable now" he explains his reason for attacking him "I cannot trust you" nor can Ratchet trust him "And least of all can I let you live".

They both agree on that at least.

"and it's like I said, it doesn't matter" it was obvious that Alister was also not as sane as he appeared to be "Kill you now, save you in the past".

Alister Azimuth was definitely more deranged than he was, he was delusional and completely insane, but Ratchet....

"You, too, are a sick fuck."

Ratchet was not only completely insane too, the universe enjoyed watching him suffer, he would not die here, because that would mean he would miss the greatest spectacle of misfortune capable of existing and tormenting a single person.

So he decided that if he was going to die here, at least he would take this idiot with him and in a burst of adrenaline, he managed to pull the old man away long enough to activate the blades of his OmniWrench.

And with unbridled rage, in a war cry, he pierced the Alister.

But not before the other one, tired of fighting, gave his last mortal blow, feeling something in the left side of his armor, perceiving with an unfocused and barely conscious look, the blood spilling on the ground. Knowing the magnitude of the wound, it wouldn't be minutes before he would die, bleeding to death or from all the other wounds scattered across his body, but he dared not fall, he remained standing. However, that was not the case with his enemy.

The blow from both of them, rendered them both practically unable to hold their weapon any longer, with Ratchet barely standing, and Alister... on his knees.

With the blow going in full, Ratchet managed to pierce past Alister's chest cavity, and he knew he had but seconds to live for the older man.

Blood slowly pooled on the floor and Ratchet couldn't feel happy about this, he couldn't feel sad either, he couldn't feel anything, at least he pretended not to.

"D-dammit, y-you're ruthless child" Alister chokes on his own words, blood starting to clog his throat and he barely hears him speak, or rather whisper "W-with that being the way things will end."

Knowing his fate, and that he will not survive this time, he warns earnestly: "Listen to me boy" he stammers, a clear sign that he will not endure and he hears him hurry up saying; "I-I didn't lie to you, you can't trust the cragmite" he hears him choking on his own blood alone, but still he doesn't stop "You have to know the t-truth" he hears him spit, and Ratchet can smell the blood permeating the place "M-make him tell you the truth and" he senses that the following is the last thing he will hear from the old lombax.

"D-don't make your f-father suffer anymore."

 That was the last he heard from the elder, Alister Azimuth, a lombax who claimed to have known his father. And who lay dead because of him, warning him, which he never dared to question.

Ratchet still standing, without his weapon in hand, lying buried in the lifeless body of the other Lombax, did not know what to think.

He did not know what to feel.

He did not know what to do.

There was too much, it was all too much, the pain, the thoughts, his emotions and feelings, it was all overwhelming him, this no longer felt satisfying as it once did when he fought for fun, this was no longer pleasurable. No, this was somehow worse, he couldn't describe it, but it was....

Painless.

Even with his opponent dead, the feeling of horror didn't go away, it only upset him, and even with his injuries, he couldn't help what happened next.

Ratchet choking under everything, and in an unbridled mental breakdown he gave in to the only way to let off steam he knew.

Screaming with all his pent up helplessness completely knocking the air out of his lungs, tears of frustration and pain fell and mixed with the blood from his wounds, as he began to lash out at everything in his reach, not caring in the least that his sores were bleeding harder and that it would probably kill him faster. He longed to retaliate, destroying everything in his path.

Absolutely everything.

|...|

Ratchet didn't want to take a moment longer to postpone the end of the story, tired of remembering everything that happened that day didn't help him at all, and just summarized what happened next.

"I survived thanks to my soldiers, they found me almost dead and delirious that day" he lay back on the padded floor of his cell and sighed heavily.

"After that I confronted Tachyon regarding what Alister had said" he continues what's left of the story, surprisingly calm, as if it was just another memory from the past "When he told me the truth, I killed him" he says confirming the facts Clank knows, nothing changes at that point "I spent the last few months undoing his empire, and I wanted to end it all right after that" he mentions with sincerity, more exhausted than interested in the little robot's reaction "Being here alone delayed the inevitable, that's the truth".

Clank doesn't know what to say, because, although Ratchet always warned him that his past was no walk in the park, he never expects such stories from the lombax, everything is raw and realistic, at least he knows that what he tells, although extraordinary to believe, is not a lie.

Ratchet still engrossed in the unspoken details of the story tells what was left unsaid; "You know, I would have liked to show you that picture" as he says that he raises both arms making a gesture with his hands, forming a rectangle with his thumb and forefinger, as if trying to recreate something more figurative than just words and continues "Alister kept a clock with him, and at the end of the hands that marked the hours was this old picture of him and my father" he proceeds to lower his arms again commenting "He never mentioned it, but I think they were very close".

Curious Clank asks "So where is that clock?".

"I lost it" he says nonchalantly at the object, explaining in detail "When my ship crashed on the outskirts of the galaxy, I woke up here" conjecturing what happened, he theorizes his misplacement "It must have been lost in the explosion".

"Ratchet, what you just told me" Clank, now more willing to talk, and feeling the need to empathize with the lombax says what Ratchet surely doesn't want to hear, but has to listen; "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" Ratchet doesn't need condolences, they were always empty words in everyone's mouth, he doesn't believe there is such a thing as sympathy in anyone, least of all from anyone towards him.

"What you had to go through is not something I would wish on anyone" Clank points out, naive of the lombax's thoughts, but to the prisoner's relief, his words and voice don't lie and Ratchet feels happy to know someone like that little robot.

Feeling particularly better for the sympathetic words, he readily accepts the robot's condolences "It's okay, Cans, it's the past, you can't change what happened" and goes on to quote the cardinal rule of his life "This is just another one of my misfortunes, it's nothing new."

Silence settles in quietly, and it feels comfortable somehow. Ratchet watching the multiple lights in his cell that never go to sleep, he begins to think, can he really make amends for his actions? Or be able to do anything to fix his situation? If he's honest, Ratchet doubts it very much.

"Ratchet I have a question to ask you" he hears Clank say and without any objection from him, he hears him question "Do you still wish to be with the lombax?".

For an instant Ratchet doesn't know what to say, but his silence doesn't last long before he answers.

"No, I don't want to" he disavows as he lets out a frustrated sigh declaring "I can't, and even if I could I wouldn't try" at this, Ratchet explains further as he makes his points "I'm just a disappointment to everyone" he says stretching and clarifying "If they knew that their Guardian's predecessor, conspired against his own people to kill them" he holds his words for a moment, and doesn't hesitate to voice his thoughts "I don't want to think about that."

Even if he wanted to disagree Clank can't disagree, and honestly admits the coherence of his thought: "That's... logical, I suppose" he mentions short, but not entirely agreeing he disagrees in some part "But, I don't think you're a disappointment".

Without needing to see it, she can mentally visualize Ratchet raising a questioning eyebrow at this comment and hears him reply.

"Why do you say that?" rather than disagreeing, he seems curiously interested.

Then Clank doesn't hesitate to continue to guard that observation and expresses, "I think you have potential within you" as he mentions that he senses the slightest movement of the lombax's auditory appendage, listening carefully "It certainly is extraordinary what you are capable of doing" Clank checks, without the need to have ever seen him fight before, and says sure of his idea "But that is only one side of the coin, there is still much more we haven't seen from you."

Clank wants to stay there and continue chatting with Ratchet, but his internal reminder reminds him that he still has responsibilities to attend to and unfortunately his visiting time is up. Rising from his place on the floor Clank takes his leave.

"I have to go, there is paperwork to file and manage" he explains the reason for his departure, and deliberately mentions, trying to make Ratchet remember and not forget his words "I'd like you to think about that Ratchet, I have faith in you".

Walking away and leaving the lombax alone with his thoughts, Ratchet began to consider the idea.

And he didn't feel entirely sure about this one, he was an assassin, he would hardly be considered anything else.

And even if he deeply liked the idea. To be seen as something more than a ruthless villain?

No, that would never happen, it was just a stupid idea.

But even if it was stupid, he kept thinking about it.

Chapter Text

"Friendship is a soul dwelling in two bodies, a heart dwelling in two souls".

-Aristotle.

|...|

Ratchet didn't want to admit it, but he was really getting worried.

Pacing in circles for the fifteenth time that morning in his cell, he began to feel a deep despair at the long wait. Clank had been coming every day to visit him, they would tell some story and chat until visiting time was over, the robot was punctual and always arrived in the early hours of the morning, even when he refused to speak to him for days, he hadn't doubted that he would be there, waiting to find an answer from the lombax.

He really wouldn't have been so distressed, except that he had been waiting all morning to see him come out of the reinforced elevator that stood at the end of the only corridor that ran along the only cell on the lowest floor, the main entrance and exit to the first and deepest level of the prison, his current stay was worth mentioning. It would soon be the afternoon hours and there was no sign of his whereabouts. It was so frustrating to remain locked up now that he had begun to get used to continually seeing the shiny but small robot.

Stopping dead in his tracks throughout the cell, Ratchet closed his eyes for a moment and sighed dejectedly, he took it upon himself to calm down, it would do no good to be worried and on the lookout for the little robot. Clank would surely be too busy today to have his morning chat, he had the job of advocating on his behalf after all. Taking a deep breath he let out a nervous sigh and opened his eyelids again.

He checked the elevator exit once more, with no one and nothing in sight, he began to drift deeper into his thoughts, he hoped Clank hadn't suddenly changed his position on his 'case'. The situation was tangled enough as it was without more trouble on his tail. Clank had mentioned that there was a lack of evidence to corroborate his words and testimony, the dilemma was where could they find evidence?

He destroyed Veldin long ago, he lost contact with the pirates in the midst of all the dismantling of the empire, Alister's clock had probably ended up destroyed in the middle of his ship's explosion and there was no reliable witness or who was even alive, and being honest, who would back up in his favor?

Sitting cross-legged on the padded floor of his cell, he rested an elbow on his knee and placed his hand supporting his head, thinking, Ratchet was willing to find solutions, how would they prove the truth that he too was a victim of Tachyon's asshole lies?

It was useless.

Bending down, he cupped his face between his hands, massaging his temples, frustrated, hiding it at the same time, completely dismayed, feeling the inevitable failure. Did he really trust that he could get out of this? No, he can't, everything is absolutely against him, he has made too many mistakes throughout his life, that even the entire galaxy is waiting united only for his execution.

Everyone except Clank.

Even with his morale in tatters, Clank is determined to help him, and even though he doesn't do much to contribute, that little robot won't give up. So Ratchet won't either.

But he still can't find an answer to the question, how would they get proof?

The only evidence that might help, would be the clock and perhaps his OmniWrench, evidence of his time in Veldin, where he found it and repaired it with his own efforts, the same one that has stayed with him throughout the whole mess with the deranged cragmite. And then there's the watch...

Evidence of his reunion with Alister, one of the last lombax in the dimension along with him, before he inevitably killed him in Torren IV, and ended up blowing up his little shelter after he recovered, there was nothing left of his notes or plans, or any evidence that it ever existed, leaving as the last belonging of the old lombax the old watch, which was lost and most likely destroyed.

And just on the subject, Ratchet still doesn't know how to feel about it. He withdraws his hands from his head and his gaze ends up lost staring at nothing and everything in the force field separating his cell from the corridor.

Even if he didn't know him for more than a few minutes, he can't help but feel out of place with what happened; saddened by getting answers? undecided by what Alister said? angered by his choice to end the other's life? regretful of how it all ended?

Did he do the right thing?

Could he have saved his life? Maybe killing wasn't the only option to choose in the middle of the damn problem. But how could he have known! Killing was the only solution that solved all his problems! And Alister's stubborn stance wasn't helping at all.

Kill you now, save you in the past.

Kill him to save him? What kind of twisted logic was that? It didn't make any sense.

Obviously they both chose their side, and only one survived that day, what else could he have done?

...

Nothing. Pride, notions, conflicting goals and both clinging to follow their own goals opposed to the other prevented listening to reason, both were wrong. Stubbornness in the lombax species was as much a curse as a blessing. To their luck, it ends up being a great misfortune, all the time.

Maybe if he thinks of another story they might get something else.

"Ratchet, right?"

Not noticing his surroundings and deeply immersed in his thoughts, he failed to take into account the presence of a second person on the floor, and to his crappy luck, it's not Clank. His senses went on alert and he immediately looked ahead and up.

It's just her, the warden of Zordoom, Sasha Phyronix.

He watches her behind the forcefield, feeling a discomfort creep into his head. His face contorts in disgust and without addressing a single word, he rises from the ground and begins to turn his back on her, crossing his arms in the process, not uttering a single response of acknowledgement to her stupid question, great way to break the ice.

Sasha clearly noticing Ratchet's mood, and his indisposition to talk to her, can't help but feel irritated, she has better things to do, but needs to give the little errand from her closest robotic archivist. Besides, she's curious about his discussions with Clank and wants to see in person, what does Clank look at in this convict clearly guilty of his crimes?

Not wanting to get another headache from all the work yet to be organized, she kept her composure serious and with the clear purpose of coming here, she expresses in a merely curt tone.

"Listen, I just came to leave you a message, on behalf of Clank" without distinguishing any sign that the lombax hears her, she continues reluctantly, she doesn't care if he ignores her or not, she will comply with the message "I wanted you to know he won't be coming today, he's busy investigating what's left of your starship outside the sector".

With nothing more to comment, she turns around and starts back down the hallway, straight for the elevator, ready to get out of there and get back to her still pending work. Halfway through her journey she remembers the other part of the errand and stops abruptly to turn around long enough to set her sights back on the cell before pronouncing:

"He'll show up in two days, he doesn't want you to wait up for him" she says before resuming her walk.

"Why in two days?" immediately retorts Ratchet almost urgently, hoping to get enough attention to obtain answers before she leaves him "Will there be anything special this week?".

At this point she can see him fully willing to speak, he remains facing Sasha from his impenetrable confinement, arms crossed, frowning and questioning, ears perked up and a tense posture is observed in essence. Reluctant to answer any of his questions, she waits a few tense seconds before deciding to continue this little turn of events.

"Vendra Prog will be transported out of Zordoom" Sasha mentions without going into details, she certainly shouldn't share or leave prison information to anyone not involved under her jurisdiction let alone inmates as dangerous as him, but considering the special treatment with the lombax it won't make much difference in the end, he can't leave and everyone under his command is forbidden interaction, unless she allows it of course.

"Everyone is organizing preparations, the prison will be on maximum security all week" she adds with warning in her tone, removing all false hopes she thinks, the prisoner might be imagining in his deranged mind. "Just precautions."

Ratchet doesn't respond in any way to her question, his position is the same, unchanged and just staring silently, he almost looks like a statue with how ridiculously still he is, which unsettles Sasha more than she lets on.

"Clank has told me a lot about you" she decides to voice a couple of thoughts that leave her confused, and searching for answers, she can't think of anyone better than precisely the prisoner she has present. "And I can't help but be curious, how did you do it?".

"I've done a lot of things in my life, Warden" Ratchet is quick to reply, coolly and indifferently, remarking in derision at the honorary title Sasha considers one of his greatest accomplishments, she doesn't plan on tolerating that.

"How is it that someone like you could convince Clank to help you? What does he see in you that's important enough to do all this?" she coaxes out the unknown that puzzles her the most in all this, frustration runs through her head and she senses she'll soon get a migraine if she doesn't get answers.

"Why don't you ask him yourself? Or better yet why don't you better go ahead and leave me alone?" exclaims Ratchet in response, fed up with the constant questions and the obnoxious presence he must endure being cooped up here with her.

"...He's trying to help you" Sasha remarks with ingrained anger and contempt in her words. "But I honestly don't see the point" he says shaking his head repeatedly, as if it were an unanswerable problem. "You should feel grateful, I don't think anyone would risk enough for someone like-".

"Clank is stubborn about what he believes is the right thing to do" Ratchet's words interject abruptly, cutting and strangely a determined feeling is felt in what he expresses, his eyelids seem lost in her direction, but not really looking at her, before continuing; "I don't understand it either, and yet I don't think anyone can convince him to go back on his decision, not even you" he says with the point clear about the discussion, not pausing long enough to finish yet. "As much as you want to make this problem easier for everyone and execute me as soon as you get the chance, you won't be able to stop him from trying to help me, he has enough trouble doing everything he can to keep me here alive, and I'll only say it once."

His greenish pupils watch her with determination, intense and dark, there is a clear warning in them, and she can almost understand why everyone in the galaxy fears and seeks her swift execution, the intentions behind his eyes are dangerous and the more he watches her, the more she senses a chill sneak up her back.

"If you have a problem with me, you can insult and degrade me all you please, but I'm warning you, don't mess with Clank, or what he chooses to do or not do, he's the most stupidly empathetic tinpot I've ever met and doesn't deserve anyone questioning his choices, least of all a perfect little daddy's girl, who certainly doesn't know or know what she's talking about."

All said loud and clear, Sasha glimpses a strong sentiment behind it, almost as if she's....

As if he's defending the dignity of a good friend.

She takes a few seconds of speculation on this, analyzing, What is the meaning of this statement?

While part of her wants to probe further into this question another part reminds her that she is also the Warden, in charge of the most renowned prison in the galaxy, and she will not allow herself to be intimidated by a psychopath locked up and harassed under her command.

"Don't try to drain my patience lombax, it was me who allowed Clank to go through with this" she alludes harshly, angry at how dare he slander her like that, he doesn't know what he's talking about either. "And you certainly wouldn't be here if it weren't for him" she emphasizes pretending to make it clear that this is the work of just a very sympathetic little robot, before reflecting for a moment on the lombax's words. "I think I understand now why he does it."

The conversation has been put off too long and she still has obligations to attend to, satisfied with what she got, she decides she will talk to Clank about it, right after she returns.

"I'm leaving lombax, we'll meet again very soon" she says almost mumbling as she slowly walks out of the hallway, disappearing into the elevator, leaving a very confused lombax convict behind.

Ratchet wasn't expecting that at all.

||…||

Clank doesn't like to leave Zordoom.

It's really not like he loves to stay all the time in the big spaces of the prison, filing and documenting everything related to the information and research of the newcomers, don't misunderstand him either, he really enjoys his quiet job, where the biggest problem that can make him stop, is not recording something important in his routine reports, but as far as he is concerned, Polaris is certainly not the safest galaxy to say the least, between pirates and crooks to dictators and megalomaniacs, despite loving his home very much, he can't deny that there should be more control by the Polaris Defense Guard.

And transporter ships have always been a nightmare for long hauls.

The Polaris Guard research center was in a nutshell huge. It could almost have encompassed an entire natural satellite, by its name, it was the main gathering point for the Guard in what consisted of at least half the galaxy, thus too recurring most of the time staying in orbit of the planet designated as the galaxy's capital. The space station maintained a complex and complicated structure, crafted by the galaxy's existing renowned engineers, almost a marvel of engineering, remaining also one of the best protected fortresses in the known of a couple of sectors. Carrying out multiple of functions, being almost entirely automaton, and certainly under the constant surveillance of the Polaris government.

And Clank had an appointment to keep at the aforementioned place, he just hopes nothing happens that could complicate his work, considering the time they have left before the trial, he hopes to do this quickly and find something that could benefit him in his quest.

Once the ship carrying him along with a couple more passengers with him, enters through the nearest gate, similar to a ship entrance, they finally land in the large compound proclaimed to be one of the most important in the galaxy and Clank is finally able to get off as the transport's gates slide open. Fortunately he doesn't have to ask directions from anyone because the officer in charge of the Ratchet affair is just outside, waiting for him.

The officer is a robot similar to the series working for the Polaris government, much taller and more intimidating than Clank will ever be, with a single glowing red optic and metal as shiny as his own.

"Officer Clank," says the lead investigator, welcoming him. "The warden mentioned your visit, follow me, I don't think you want to be here any longer than planned."

Well, at least Clank wouldn't waste his time here at all.

||...||

The tour through the big station ends up being complicated, almost labyrinthine. Too many twists and turns for his processor and with how little Clank can walk in a given amount of time, he almost misses the quick jog of his designated guide by seconds, walking twice as far to keep in range of the official investigator is a challenge that Clank fortunately won't have to go through again.

Once entering the main investigation area they reach the material and evidence rooms; everything collected and found at each crime scene or clearly suspicious and linked to the case is stored there. They walk a long stretch of the hallway, the rooms are numbered with large, shiny numbers placed on each of the doors located on the walls, all colorfully reinforced and clean. They pass through different numbers until they reach the one designated to the lombax prisoner's case.

Its gate is numbered in an illuminated digit '2002'. Placed on the outside, identifying the location of the pressing matter that brought Clank here. As the officer busies himself with opening the lock on the classified room Clank keeps an eye out for what he might find there, confident that there will be something of value to at least get an accurate guess at turning the tide of the lombax's fate. Of his friend.

Because Ratchet is his friend now, and they've made more progress than he initially thought, and no one can change that.

"You will be allowed a couple of hours to corroborate the evidence and determine if anything is of use to you for the case, I will wait here, let me know if you need anything officer" Clank manages to sense a certain level of spite in the investigator's voice, clearly not believing that a little robot like him could find more than what someone experienced like the officer in charge has been able to find out.

Hardly that will stop Clank from his quest. Finally he steps into the room.

Like a hall of fame or a small museum, the evidence is displayed on a couple of platforms around him, covering a large part of the room. Everything is held in magnetic suspension, protected in force fields. One of Ratchet's main belongings is displayed almost at the front of the room, capturing the attention of anyone who wandered in there; his OmniWrench.

Clank approaches and silently contemplates it. He can recall the stories of the lombax fresh and intact in his memory. The stories contained in each of the dents tell of long processes of pain, anger and blood to his credit. It was also the young lombax's only protection for as long as he kept fighting to live another day. Clank likewise vows to himself that he will not allow Ratchet, his friend, to suffer any more from this.

When he examines the room, he hardly finds anything to help him in his investigation. Ratchet's weapons cover much of the platforms, his ship, destroyed and kept in the same condition in which they found it is positioned at the end of the room. Nothing substantial is observed beyond what Clank finds. His disappointment sets in and he comes to the resolution that there are no more clues to investigate. His only chance to find something lay in that room, or so he thought.

Arriving at the last exhibit, he inspects Ratchet's destroyed ship. The pieces are kept neatly arranged around it, they too are battered and covered in dirt, the marks are indicative of the violent crash they received along with the denting of the ship in general. Nothing but mangled parts are preserved there.

Clank almost feels like giving up at that point. But his optics never stop inspecting his surroundings and for a second he notices something that had gone unnoticed in the back of the room.

Apparently, the ship was not the last thing they managed to collect from the wrecked ship.

A circular object awaits on the last platform in the room, just after the wrecked ship. It appears to be pocket-sized, ready to carry anywhere with ease, much like a...

A watch.

Just what Clank was looking for.

Although it could hardly mean anything to anyone, Clank certainly hoped it was a good opportunity to explain things, it wouldn't be enough yet, but it was better than getting nothing.  Still, he continued to investigate his surroundings, perhaps some other belongings he had overlooked.

At the end of the designated time I could find nothing else. With the order from the warden of Zordoom that he could get whatever he saw fit to take with him, he managed to get the small pocket watch out in record time and take it with him back to the prison.

It would be a long trip back. He already wanted to see Ratchet and continue planning what else they could do before their extra playing time was up. He wondered if they could get at least one witness to plead on their behalf, that would do more for them than all the evidence they managed to collect.

||...||

On his second day of waiting for the little robot to return, Ratchet had a feeling that something would go wrong.

Something would go terribly wrong.

He didn't quite identify the feeling, being in isolation did nothing to appease it either, which scared him more than he would ever admit to anyone. He could almost tell that the cold spread and became more present throughout his cell and beyond. The danger running through his fur made him bristle more than usual and his paranoia only worsened after the first few hours in the morning, something very bad would happen and he could hardly bear the thought of staying locked up when it did. He kept moving the whole time. Waiting.

Waiting.

And waiting.

Suddenly everything felt more present. Too bright, too noisy, too much of everything around him. It was overwhelming, the lights burned into his eyeballs, the sound of tangible electricity in the air almost felt deafening to his sensitive ears and the impeccable color of white in his cell almost persuaded him to want to vomit on more than one occasion. Breathing turned from casual and normal to a full time job, keeping enough air and not completely emptying oxygen from his system was difficult. His heart was beating too fast, his blood felt cold, almost freezing.

Ratchet didn't want to have an attack now, not when danger was settling from every nook and cranny in the innermost part of his head and at the same time the place where he was held captive to his freedom. Working on relaxing, he began to practice his breathing, he would not run out of air if there was the possibility of a sudden attack, let alone if there was the risk of not being able to defend himself or attack.

As much as he longed to see Clank he just wished he would stay away from the place before the-.

Alarms.

Red lights began flashing throughout the complex, the compromised perimeter alarm rising over the entire place, drowning out in a cluttered noise of multiple red lights the sound of the guard mobilizing above, well above the last level belonging to Ratchet.

Dazed, Ratchet managed to keep his ears covered as the mess in the place took a moment to settle properly. The alarms were too loud and noisy for his liking, feeling like he almost went deaf at the very instant they went off so suddenly. When he could get used to the noise he managed to open his eyes again, not realizing the moment he had closed them he observed his surroundings.

His cell remained unchanged. The same could not be said of the corridor leading to the only exit from the level.

Several lines of cells and energy bars stood erect, enclosing and trapping any escape that might have slipped between the small, tiny spaces they held, all of them scattered along the length of the corridor, closing off any escape attempts.

At least nothing could get in with him. The thought barely reassured him.

He could only hope that whatever was happening on the upper levels would be handled quickly and immediately, he didn't want the extra security to stay for much longer than it should. He felt too anxious to keep pretending to be calm. In the midst of that, his mind didn't hesitate to wander to other matters, even more important than his flimsy peace of mind.

He really hoped Clank was all right.

He didn't want to sit or stay still for more than a second, the threat wouldn't pass in the next few minutes, perhaps it wouldn't be hours before everything would be back to normal and by then-.

He didn't manage to finish that thought before a second event interrupted whatever thought was brewing in his uneasy head. The power diminished, and in a blink of an eye too slowly everything went out.

The power to the cells, the bars and weapons that would keep him inside and secured to his cell froze and died, without enough energy to keep them running.

Emergency lights flickered red in the suddenly dark space that had become the top level of the prison, everything remained without power. Conveniently the elevator and only entrance and exit to the top floor remained unchanged, maintaining an emergency light, maintaining an exit.

A very convenient exit. Too suspicious in his opinion.

Even as dazed as he was by the sudden change of events, Ratchet could well discern a strategy when it presented itself as blatantly as this one did.

An escape. Someone had organized an escape of convicts and planned to use the disarray in all communications as a cover for his own escape. It would use convicts to create a mix-up and get free.

He could go free.

The commotion kept him still and glued in place as he continued to witness the events, keeping to his own thoughts and theories of what was going on in the impenetrable Zordoom prison oblivious to the blissful situation he was currently in and thanks also to the aforementioned recent events.

If he could take advantage of the situation, he would be out before anyone noticed his absence and by then, Ratchet would be far enough away from the sector and probably beyond possible tracking and capture. He would not return to his cell, he would not face the inevitable trial and no one would ever catch him again. Ratchet would be free.

But...

Was he really questioning himself with a 'But...'?

But what about Clank?

The mere thought left him blank and took his breath away.

Ratchet didn't want to leave Clank. The little robot was...

He was a comfort, he was his companion, his little watcher, Clank was....

Clank was his friend.

Clank had done too much for Ratchet, risked and bet everything in his favor. Doing more than anyone else would have done for him. Clank was a good person.

As much as Ratchet wanted to run away and never come back, he realized that doing so would mean abandoning Clank, betraying his trust in the medium. And Ratchet was fed up. He was sick of the loneliness.

Along with Clank, he began to hate his loneliness. Because Clank somehow made everything seem better, even if the situation wasn't the most pressing or preferable, he always managed to make the best of it. Clank wasn't going to give up on him.

So Ratchet wouldn't give up on Clank either.

Sitting down on the soft floor that lined his now unused cell Ratchet sighed and waited.

Making a decision, Ratchet would wait for Clank, because Clank would come back to Ratchet.

That tin can had really changed him, hadn't it?

||...||

Clank had set out to go straight to the Warden's office as soon as he set foot on the prison grounds again. He had a clue, a piece of the past that would corroborate an important part of the case he was keeping tabs on and also in favor of the unfortunate lombax.

Or at least, so he planned to do.

He had barely tackled a stretch of his path before everything began to spiral out of control. Alarms warned first of what would be a couple of certainly dangerous situations, one right after the other, almost consecutively. As he ran down the hallway, it soon became crowded with guards and sentries splitting up and taking different directions throughout the complex. Orders were shouted and demanded on the communication channels and also on all the loudspeakers that were kept in every corner of the prison. The normally quiet and calm prison was suddenly plunged into a mess of chaos and disparate noise of voices exclaiming orders left and right and red lights along with alarms of all kinds.

Clank wondered if anyone could understand each other in the midst of all the hustle and bustle, in all honesty, he would not.

Not wanting to get in the way let alone accidentally stumble in the middle of the hubbub he stepped aside in the hallway and clung for an instant to the fortified walls of Zordoom. With some urgency he began to formulate a plan to remain hidden while all the better trained personnel began to take the situation under control. As much as he wanted to contribute something to the bad circumstances, his skill went no further than organizing and sorting paperwork. Clank would hardly be helpful in these scenarios.

The original plan was to get to the lower, less crowded levels of staff and cells, keeping a better distance from the dangerous levels of convicts and prisoners, and whatever was currently setting off all the alarms in the prison, most likely nothing good at all.

And then the situation took a turn for the worse in a matter of seconds, or, rather, the blink of an eye.

The power to the facility began to wander. Flashing and flickering with energy, as the seconds passed it began to steadily and exponentially diminish and eventually shut down the entire complex.

Zordoom's prison was sustained by its indispensable technology and energy storage, without that, the function of keeping everyone inside their respective cells was left to the drift of not keeping even one of them in operation.

And the real commotion began. Clank still kept a certain distance from the lower levels that held most of the prisoners, where a war would soon settle between the convicts and the guard, many of them would escape at the first opportunity for free release that came their way.

But Clank didn't understand. Why was this happening? On this day-

And then it dawned on him why this was happening. Today was the day chosen for the transport of a convict, sentenced to hundreds of life sentences. Someone who had not been sentenced to die because there was simply nothing that could kill her so easily.

Vendra Prog.

She would go free, if they managed to free her from her prison there would be nothing to stop her. He had to do something, Clank had to stop her, but, the question was, how?

Then Clank found a solution. Risky and dangerous, he decided it was worth taking. Clank in the midst of all the movement, remained all the time in the same place he had covered from the beginning. Hidden, he kept alert of his environment, now he would have to get close enough to the elevators of the levels and take one that could take him to the last slope of the prison. It would not be complicated, but the risk of there being inmates already taking the elevators was too high and he could not expose himself to being stopped. He would have to take a different route.

As he calculated how long it would take him to find another entrance, he searched the corridor he was in. He stopped his gaze on a small but important point and found his answer immediately.

Its size would be of benefit someday, although I didn't expect the opportunity for that to be today.

||...||

Ratchet heard a lot of noise. But none of that deterred him from leaving. He would not betray Clank.

So he tried to calm his fluttering heart. He hoped the little robot would remain safe, wherever he was. Considering how fragile and non-threatening his appearance was, it could well end very badly if he tried anything in favor of containing the prisoners. The Cans was not a fighter, it was intelligent but it could not sustain a real battle, at least not like Ratchet could.

Ratchet waited and speculated. Clank was smart, he would find a way to protect himself and get to safety, he didn't have to worry so much about his safety. Once the tragedy was over, they could be reunited again, and in the meantime, he just had to wait and be patient.

He now desperately wished that time would pass faster. His patience had been on edge since the alerts began. If he didn't move to do something, anything, he would go mad at any moment.

Then he distinguished a different sound.

Surveying his stay and corner he almost immediately determined the source of the strange sound, metallic footsteps were approaching from one of the many ventilation windows scattered along the adjoining walls of the corridor. The sound grew louder and louder on the level. Ratchet felt uneasy, forcing himself to abandon his seated position to maintain a defensive one instead. Not letting his guard down for a second.

As the noise was about to arrive on the level, he could hear the thud of the vents falling limply onto the hard floor of the hallway. Ratchet braced himself.

"Ratchet, are you in there?".

Ratchet felt himself relax in place. Then confusion took over and he didn't avoid questioning himself:

Did he...?

His doubts were so arbitrarily dispelled when it was Clank who managed to get out of the vents. His small body was perfect for slipping into the ducts and for what Ratchet glimpsed and was immediately grateful, little Clank persevered unharmed.

For an instant, both their gazes met and almost simultaneously they both sighed with relief. Clank remained in one piece and Ratchet did not leave his cell.

They were both fine, and might have enjoyed the moment a little more if it weren't for the complicated situation at hand. Clank quickly rushed over to Ratchet without a moment's hesitation, downplaying the fact that he was directly approaching one of the most dangerous prisoners in the galaxy. The Lombax, for his part, was the one who initiated the necessary conversation. Confused in more ways than one by the robot's sudden entrance.

"Clank? what happened? why are you here?" a step away the robot abruptly stopped his walk, Ratchet even with the unexpected spectator in the cell remained still and rooted in place, keeping a small personal space between the two and considering what he was about to ask, Clank intended to hold his inherent request between them. He didn't hesitate any of his words when he requested:

"Ratchet I need your help" plain and simple was his request, this was the decisive moment when the lombax was to put on the table all the issues and reflections that had taken both of them so long to allude to in each of their conversations. Thinking over what he was deliberately ignoring and thanks to Clank's intervention he was able to understand what he had missed in his life, Ratchet came to a momentous resolution of what he had to do next.

For once in his life, he felt capable and up to whatever lay ahead. Now it would be his turn to change the course of his story. Now he would do it for him. Taking a brief silence, he soon knelt down to try to match the reduced height of his small cellmate and uttered more than determined;

"What do you need?" his gaze lingered on Clank, completely ready for anything the robot demanded, ready to leap into action and prepared for any inconvenience that might come his way. Clank was happy for this change, he would never have been able to predict the events that brought them to this situation and yet he could openly point to a breakthrough in the right path of the lombax's actions.

"The escape is due to Vendra Prog, someone is planning to release her and we can't let that happen" not to mention that they picked the perfect time to attack and keep the prison subdued. The time limit is running and they can't afford to waste it.

"Wait a second, are you implying I stop her?" a nod is appreciated from Clank and Ratchet takes a moment to consider the remote possibility of capturing her and not dying trying. A memory of the past arises a fleeting instant of the first time both extinct races met and reveals, "I only faced her once, and even with my weapons it was difficult, I don't know if I'll make it now Cans" he mentions truthfully, firm and clear in his words, for, an enemy like the Prog brothers is not something taken lightly.

For the first time in the intricate instance Clank feels undecided as to the next action to estimate. Perhaps he didn't quite map out their objective, they needed to organize a backup plan. The capture and control system should be able to solve their problems, but first the prison's power would have to be restored and then the space witch would have to be held long enough to drop the trap and capture her.

Smoothly, Clank determined in an instant. If they used their cards right, they could fix the situation.

"There are containment cells at one of the main exits of the prison, if you can get her there I can activate them before she has a chance to escape" he explained bluntly, he turned his green optics towards the exit for a moment and simultaneously began to plot on his internal prison blueprint a path to follow. First reactivate the power and then capture the Nether.

"Are you really determined to capture her? hm?" said Ratchet, his countenance speaking more for him than his words. He almost looked bored, but behind that Clank observed a dread about leaving. Going out again would mean a lot of trouble after the riot and fighting again from what had been months without training had probably brought him to a sudden halt in this hesitation that was beginning to boil over.

Trying to appeal to his sense of duty, Clank moved a little closer and held Ratchet's arm, trying to convince him and push him out with his next words, which, even without precedent did not diminish their truthfulness in the slightest, "She's ruthless, she'll hurt a lot of innocent people while she's free, we can't allow that."

Ratchet a little startled by the sympathetic robot's action in taking his arm appropriated brief seconds of contemplation, his eyes insisted fixed on Clank a fleeting interval of seconds before flicking them away, almost embarrassed, Clank had an imperturbable metal face and Ratchet found it hard to face him for so long, it was a little unsettling considering he didn't move at all if he wanted to. Then he sighed in frustration, but no less enthusiastically.

"Fine, you win, it'll be your way" he agreed partially resigned, but no less prepared, then continued "Now-"

"Wait, there's something I need to do" he interrupted so suddenly that Ratchet had to take a second to understand. But not understood.

Ratchet hadn't expected that, what was more important than stopping the dangerous convict that so disturbed Clank's peace of mind?

Clank without warning hugged him and said to the lombax.

"I'm glad you're here Ratchet."

Ratchet was touched, no one had ever been kind to him, and he suddenly realized that no one had ever hugged him either.

But that didn't stop him from reciprocating anyway. Ratchet felt it necessary and spontaneously tightly wrapped his arms around the robot and squeezed it lightly, even if it only seemed to cling to the metal, the hug meant more to him than any other interaction with words had. It felt warm and comforting, a sensation Ratchet appreciated greatly. And a lone tear slipped from his eyes, falling silently to the floor.

Too long without crying began to affect him very quickly. He felt alive again. He felt happy.

The hug didn't last too long, there was a lot to do and then it was time to work.

"You're coming with me Cans" Ratchet decided without giving room for discussion or complaints, smoothly lifting Clank, as he held the little robot in his hands he joked to lighten the situation a bit; "Let's fix the twins' little mess, it's sure to be fun" he couldn't help but smile as he said that. Clank might have flipped his optics in frustrated resignation if he wasn't a robot. Teasing was out of place, at least for the little robot that's how it felt.

"You can't stop joking around even in desperate times can you?" asked Clank a bit flippant in his tone, definitely also maintaining a certain degree of seriousness for the event, seriousness that Ratchet didn't even pretend to feign.

"Nope!".

Chapter Text

Loyalty is the shortest way between two hearts.

-J. Ortega.

Running towards the only available exit on the level, Ratchet held Clank in his hands as he entered the still functioning elevator, unlike the entire power system in the prison. Once inside Clank took it upon himself to press the option for his first destination; restoring power to the complex. Spaced out and empty as it was it gave them an extra moment to better plan their impromptu plan before arriving.

The elevator closed and on its way up, Clank turned to Ratchet. "First I'll make sure to restore the controls to the power plant, I suspect they didn't get as far as trying to shut it down permanently, not if there is still emergency power on the levels as well as the elevators and platforms" he informed the lombax. Analyzing the events, once the energy center prison was unprotected, everything else should have gone into a tailspin, but in his case and noting the difference in contrast, it was more of a scrupulous disruption than a total impulsive mass blackout.

"But..." not knowing how to continue, Clank sensed that the problem would be more complicated than how he had worked it out.

"But? ..." Ratchet asked curiously, he didn't see the problem in going and restoring power, they'd solve half the dilemma that way, but there was obviously more if Clank so suggested.

"I have a feeling we will encounter opposition regarding getting to the command room, most likely the same people responsible for the altercation" he explained as he reviewed the route and their alternatives to take if they couldn't route in the main passage. Detouring was safer.

"Well, don't worry about that, getting in and out will be very easy."

After thousands of missions and having trained for ten years, getting in without dying trying was more of a learned skill than a thought. Once he could get them out and turn their lights off permanently everything else would be simple.

Clank of course wouldn't agree with him.

"You're not killing anyone Ratchet" dictated the little robot giving the lombax a discouraged look. Showing more disappointment than irritation in his large green optics.

With annoyance, Ratchet frowned and replied with confusion "Why, shouldn't we root out the problem? Eliminating them is more effective than just pushing them aside, besides, they're the criminals here" logically killing was just as good as stopping them. There would be no point in leaving loose ends.

"I don't want you trying to kill anyone Ratchet, it's not right" Clank warned, keeping his sense of ethics and morals even about the risks that would be convenient to perpetuate something like that in such a situation. "We should only stop them not eliminate them" he said making clear the objective and not the idea of an unnecessary bloody battle, thinking for a moment, he added a better motivation instead: "And I have complete trust in you, you will do the right thing" he concluded smiling, because it was true.

"I can't promise anything, buddy."

Clank expected a little more than that, then he watched Ratchet again, waiting, with an unperturbed and somewhat unsettled look. The lombax refused to share his gaze towards the robot, trying to appear ignorant and indifferent, but his already stiff nerves wouldn't allow it for long and reluctantly after a couple of seconds he agreed.

 Grunting under his breath he said, "Fine, I'll try, can you stop looking at me like that?" almost sounding irritated he muttered weakly. "You make me feel guilty."

The little robot reasoning his words pointed out indulgently. "I recognize that it may be a complete turn around to the way you work, but I think that would be for the best, considering... well, everything" he managed to express, not wanting to bring it all up now. Clank looked away from the lombax and logged a couple more minutes before the numerical end he marked.

"Yeah, yeah, it doesn't matter anymore, I'll do what I can, though we have a problem" Ratchet indicated trying to take a better fighting position with the little robot that was Clank in tow before giving up and saying. "I won't be able to attack if I don't have both hands and I'm definitely not letting you go on your own" highlighting his refusal to let go he continued to support Clank in his arms.

Clank considered the setback, trying to find a quick solution. The countdown of the numbers in the elevator was steadily decreasing, they would soon arrive at the main command room and the problem had to be solved without risking the lives of either of them. Ratchet was also looking for the right decision to make in this situation. He couldn't leave Clank on his own and he couldn't carry him all the way back and forth if they intended to get there in one piece.

With nothing equipped on him, the lombax looked at the device with the designated electrical number on his clothing. Attached to his chest and part of his back, he caught a brief glimpse of his side and found a mutually favorable option. Clank's very serial design allowed him all kinds of transportation, including something as simple and rudimentary as being carried by others.

"I have an idea" said Ratchet holding that train of thought. Immediately after his words and still holding Clank he began to adapt it on his back, fortunately the arrangement was perfect and without problems. Like a magnet the little robot fitted back to back with the lombax. Now looking more like a backpack, Clank compressed as much as his mechanical limbs would allow.    

"It'll be easier for both of us this way, don't you think?". 

"Pretty practical if I may say."

The marker was about to reach the designated number and the pair tensed anxiously for the mere seconds it would take to come to a complete stop and leave them both out in the open in the middle of a dangerous area. Ratchet prepared himself by adopting a defensive posture. With no weapons or tools available he would have to fight his way through without trying to accidentally die or kill someone. He also reminded himself that he was not alone in this and that motivated him as much as it scared him. He would not let anything happen to Clank.

Swallowing his feelings, he concentrated. This would be like any other mission, nothing new there at least.

"The area is divided into at least three paths with distinct rooms, we just need to get to the third of these, there we will find the command room, from there I will take care of resetting the system. Then we will look for Vendra's transport" said Clank moments before the elevator stopped. "Hopefully it won't be too late by then."

Confident commented Ratchet. "It won't be."

Then the doors opened simultaneously to the sides and they had reached the main room on the third level.

The place looked like a mess of papers and digital reports strewn and scattered all over the place, chairs were overturned and gunshot marks were left impregnated on the ceilings, floors and walls, some screens scattered around the room were releasing smoke from how shattered they were. Enumerating all the signs of a fight Ratchet moved in without letting his guard down. Catching a sound of unpleasant laughter Ratchet pointed his gaze in the direction where he heard them. Moving carefully and stealthily he investigated the room. Most of the noise was coming from the third entrance to his right, definitely the command room.

As he walked his eyes caught a number of bodies scattered on the floor, all of them guards of the facility, all robots. Some in pieces, others melted by extreme measures of heat and probably acid, deactivated and without a shred of life, he decided to avoid them carefully. Without stepping on any of them he found the first thing that gave him a little more confidence to continue.

Pulling a blaster from the metal fingers and without energy from an inert body with a pierced torso he proceeded to check the weapon, he kept his ears on alert, intercepting any noise that came too close to his position.  Half the charge was empty, the other half left intact, enough to kill-uf, incapacitate a squad, hopefully.

Movement, his left.

He immediately aimed without wasting a second of reaction towards the noise and ready to pull the trigger he stopped.

A civilian, more specifically a Markazian. A young guy and most likely a recent entrant as well, he ducked under a desk battered by the assault and stared in horror at the lombax who so easily kept the sight of his weapon on him. Neither made a peep, too lost in what they should or should not be doing. Clank lost to events and the sudden lack of mobility no longer contained his preemptions.

"Ratchet, what's wrong?" he asked as quietly as his voice modulator would allow. When the lombax heard him the stiffness in his arms began to descend. Without wasting another second he solved that Clank could take care of the situation.

"One of the employees, I think it's one of the office workers here" he commented allowing a better view to the little robot, but without taking his gaze off the young clerk. At the same time he ratified lowering his gun for an instant. He didn't want to kill an innocent by accident.

From the side Clank observed what Ratchet was referring to and identified in a second the present one hiding in the dark and dull room.

"Walter?" finally spoke Clank immediately analyzing the practitioner's condition. Newly arrived only a couple of months ago, if the data he gets from his log is correct. "What happened here?"

Ratchet tried to put the conversation aside, his eyes absentmindedly swept around him admitting an exchange of words between Clank and his co-worker.

"M-Mr. Clank...?" He could hear the lombax. Even if they whispered, his ears could catch every word clearly. " W-why is he-".

"We really don't have much time to explain, for now I need you to tell me what happened here," Clank said, wasting no time in being enlightening.

Silence was what they got, as if the young Markazian was considering his options, it didn't last long like that, and taking initiative he began to speak.

"I-I think they got here first, right after they ambushed all the prison exits, the guards tried to stop them b-but..."

The strewn bodies told the same story well.

"T-they took several workers, and besieged in the command room, cut off communication before shutting down the power."

Hostage situation, just great. Ratchet didn't want to be pessimistic about it, but surely there would be more dead in the next few hours. Being optimistic, at least that wouldn't be his fault this time.

"Th-they're mercenaries, most of them Thugs."

Of course the reptilian idiots would be involved. As long as you paid the right price, they'd do anything stupid like cause an altercation in a maximum security prison. The mercenaries were as obnoxious as the Drophyd were. Ratchet really didn't feel like dealing with the underdeveloped lizards, but now it wasn't really an option anymore.

If anything, they should move, the longer it took to confront them the more likely they were to hurt innocents for fun. The rumble coming from their right began to gradually diminish, a change came over the atmosphere and Ratchet felt the urgent need to move.

"Clank tell your friend to get the hell out" demanded the lombax, interrupting the silent, babbling conversation between co-workers, immediately Ratchet prepared to engage in battle. The pair had ceased talking, but the boy dared not move an inch in the presence of the convicted lombax, without patience Ratchet tried to encourage with more enthusiasm in his words.

"Listen Wally if you don't leave now someone will get a hole in the head and I assure you that will be you."

Snapping the poor boy out of his shock, he shakily hurried to the elevator through which Ratchet and Clank had previously entered and exited without looking back as quickly as he had made his presence known. Better, one less individual to worry about.

"Ratchet, don't threaten people, that doesn't help" the robot reprimanded. Clank could have said the same thing in fewer words and not terrified at the thought of dying another unfortunate caught in the same circumstances.

"I honestly don't have the patience to deal with others, and I seem to recall that's something we've already made clear isn't it?"

"I know, but I don't see the need-".

A gunshot. The sound echoed and spread muting all areas around, stopping Ratchet in his tracks; neither of them dared to breathe or move the moment they heard the shot. The shot had been fired right in the command room, and taking a second to register the fact quickly the lombax approached the scene. Now they didn't need any more dead.

Overhearing idle chatter in close proximity, Ratchet paused in the hallway, concealing himself before stepping fully into the space invaded by the large mercenary reptiles. Out of the corner of his eye and as carefully as possible, he carefully observed the elements in the room.

On the one hand, he caught a glimpse of a few hostages crowding around the back of the room, keeping themselves mostly hidden and out of sight. On the other side, the Thugs flanked both sides of the place, wandering around the workspace and looking mostly bored, but they served their purpose and kept the place protected. Checking the floor, he was relieved not to find a single lifeless body among the bulging room. 

Doing a count of enemies, he framed a little less than twenty mercenaries, but none of them being the leader. On the hostage side, at least thirty were held captive, among them robots and different species.

The room remained poorly lit, a single spotlight sustained its use while the others strategically placed for decent illumination remained off. A sudden idea crossed the lombax's mind and convinced him to take the risk of executing it. 

Thinking of the easiest way to take the reptiles out of the equation, he briefly and mysteriously questioned Clank. "Do you know if the Thugs can see in the dark?".

" I would say it's not very probably Why?".

"Because we'll put out a couple of lights, literally."

Shooting was child's play for Ratchet.

With a single shot, he disposed of the only available light in the room. Silently he spontaneously moved in, listening to the surprise of those present he deduced an approximate location of the mercenaries crowded in the open space and before anyone could react he slyly approached his first victim.

The first reptile he managed to take down had its back to the lombax, Ratchet could easily have fired and been done in a single second, but instead chose to keep the weapon out of commission until further notice. Using a swift motion, he leapt and dropped a kick directly into the reptile's jagged head and in succession the Thug fell unconscious from the heavy blow.

The slumped body echoed in the chamber drawing the unwanted attention of the other mercenaries. All immediately loaded their weapons and shouted, demanding to know who was lurking in the darkness. Ratchet kept a considerate distance from the reptiles, very close to ground level. The Thugs were too tall and lumbering compared to the lombax himself, in definition, they would not resolve their unnoticeable presence before he managed to stop them all.

Creating distractions, he threw debris on the sides opposite his direction and when they all pointed to the source of the noise, he would sneak up behind another reptile and knock it out. Individually he disposed of them all in record time, working faster and quieter with each stunned Thug.

Some of them tried to shoot him, but all failed in the attempt. In less than five minutes he managed to take out all the mercenaries, knocking them down and eventually knocking them out with mere accurate hits. 

The captives did not move as everything in the room fell suddenly silent. With the last of the mercenaries detained and subdued, they too could not fully see what happened in the few minutes that the one-sided battle lasted and a question mark was raised in everyone present. Who had taken care of the mercenary Thugs?

Clank, who had been hiding the incandescent light of his optics once he got the go-ahead from Ratchet and no longer perceived the mercenaries' commotion, consciously turned on his optics again. It illuminated the room enough to see one foot in front of the other and consequently making the arrival of both among the hostages known.

Various gasps of bewilderment rose from the incredulous mouths of the workers, some astonished, some frightened and all outright nervous. No one imagined the outlandish idea of encountering one of the worst villains ever known in the entire Polaris planetary system, let alone the apparent news that it had been the lombax who had rescued them.

Ratchet who had not raised his gaze to the others, turned his eyes when he heard the flimsy chatter spreading among the newly freed group. When they registered the silent contemplation of the convict lombax, the whole group immediately abandoned the entertaining conversation and tension began to take over the atmosphere.

Clank wasted no more time in explaining the strange circumstances of the others in the face of this. It definitely didn't look good to be collaborating with a sworn enemy of the Polaris Defense Force.

"Please do not be alarmed" he said trying to get the attention of everyone present. "Ratchet is currently assisting, and I will have to ask you for your safety to vacate the premises and remain safe until it is over-" an explosion could be heard in the distance. "And the situation is brought under control."

Without patience, Ratchet summed up the message, "Out, now."

They needed no more directions than that to practically run out of the place, avoiding the lombax like the plague. Fortunately, none of them started screaming in panic or worse. Ratchet preferred to keep his presence anonymous, that would allow them to work quickly and more freely.

Once alone in the room with the thousands of controls exposed and free for use, Clank climbed off Ratchet's back and approached the command machines, working as thoroughly as possible. Ratchet would stand guard in the meantime, not entirely sure how long the Thugs' forced sleep would last. Thinking ahead he began to search current space for a way to stop them even after they began to react again.

On Clank's side, he was always close to the codes and programming, being a robot himself it was not very surprising and, even so, his perfect command handling justified well that he was more capable and competent than many others focused and prepared for the job. For Clank the job turned out to be simple, much more so than he initially anticipated.

After a couple of long minutes had passed for the pair of companions, power began to rush into the complex, exponentially igniting everything around them and ending with a 'System Reset' message appearing on the screen occupied with Clank.

When Clank returned his gaze to the lombax he found him tying in wires to the pile of unconscious mercenaries on the ground. At least it was a better option than slaughtering them in cold blood. And once the job was done Ratchet didn't take long to approach Clank and place him in the same spot ready for the next part of the plan.

"We need to find the location of the route that transports Vendra" said Clank with Ratchet on his way to the exit. "they would most likely move it via one of the main ledges of the prison, but currently there are four positioned at opposite ends and we don't have that much time to check them all" he mentioned already posing their subsequent objective.

Once in the elevators again, the next floor would be a few levels below the current one and Clank having the map pointed to the button to be pressed and the lombax didn't hesitate to follow his order.

Waiting for his stop as the stupid elevator music repeated in the small room, Ratchet asked without further ado. "So, next stop is it?" the lombax seemed more anxious with each passing second. He might as well have been in everyone's sights there.

"Surveillance room" the robot replied, alluding at once, "When we find her we'll go straight to stop her."

Ratchet swallowed uneasily, the mere possibility of managing to catch the Vendra witch was a remote one in a million chance. Ratchet was confident in his abilities, but he was not imposing against such powerful foes. Vendra Prog's strange powers and capacities were far out of his normal league of commission and to face him in these impossible as well as unfortunate circumstances was almost suicidal.

Voices, the floor they were about to board was crammed with people. Instantly without thinking Ratchet tensed. Bracing himself as much as he could he clutched his trigger gun and coordinated to make a run for it as soon as the automatic doors opened. One problem at a time, he thought.

"Clank, directions?" he said timing the couple of seconds before the elevator suddenly stopped.

"Mainly it's a corridor that splits into several corridors, the first one we'll follow will be on the right hand side" enough information for Ratchet anyway, the descent had already stopped.

Elevator interrupting. It was time to run.

When the doors opened, gunfire was not long in coming, plasma was flying all over the place and a mess of material and warehouse crates were strewn on the floor, getting in the way, robotic guards and inmates fired in opposition, inmates beyond Ratchet's position and sentries protecting the easy way out which was the elevator.

The same one that had caught everyone's attention when without warning it opened revealing a lombax recognized by both factions. But before anyone could react to the unexpected entrance, Ratchet was already running and evading any attempt at restraint by the guards, forcing his way in. When none managed to grab the lombax, they fired.

The crates were a big plus for Ratchet. Leaping through some of them, he managed to hide behind them, narrowly evading the many shots intended to bring him down. He still wasn't out of breath, but the lombax could hear the plasma blasts too close to his tail, one lucky shot and it would end there. With no armor and only one weapon walking into a minefield was not the best idea.

The break didn't last long, the prisoners as well as the guard had him in their sights. No one was on anyone's side, but even for the extinct lombax, Ratchet was out of bounds on both sides, not qualifying as a companion for the prisoners because of all the stories told of treachery towards the Cragmite emperor himself. In short, no one trusted the unhinged lombax.

Choosing in his favor, Ratchet decided not to hold back his selfish desires to be able to take out a couple or more idiots who dared to put him on target. Amused more by the adrenaline rush than anything else he grabbed his gun and fired into the clogged path of inmates. He would get through that hallway one way or another.

His aim remained impeccable, but none of his shots were intended to kill, he destroyed weapons and there were a couple of shots that burned a little the arms and hands of his enemies forcing them to retreat from their positions, he still had to restrain himself.

In his improvised cover of boxes, he ended up shooting out the prisoners who were besieging the corridor. Rushing out of his place, he hurriedly jumped over the last few obstacles before he began to fight hastily against the few who still refused to let him pass.

Using the weapon at such close range was out of the question and left Ratchet with nothing but his own strength and piercing skills; using everything in his favor to win against every opponent that approached and sought to overwhelm him with the numerous hostiles. In between punches, kicks and jumps, a metal pipe slid up to Ratchet and it was a better addition than trying to counterattack with his limited strength. After all, he was more of a weapons specialist than a fighter. The lombax already wielded similar tools, such as his trusty Omniwrench; it didn't make much difference in the end. 

With few hits under his belt, the lombax took down enough prisoners to cross alive. Still the shots didn't let up and Ratchet focused on quickly finding his way out to the right before any hit him.

In his desperate search, he caught a glimpse of his next route in the distance, hastening his pace even more. Unfortunately, before he could turn and leave the shooting zone, a shot grazed his left arm, forcing him to drop the metal conduit in surprise. The plasma bit and burned his orange fur, gritting his teeth he didn't stop and holding his wounded arm he turned right and exited the main corridor.

Out of danger Clank checked the health status of his companion and didn't hesitate to ask: "Ratchet! Are you okay!?" the concern welled up from the little robot and multiplied when he didn't hear a loquacious answer from the rambunctious lombax.

After running in and out of the battlefield the lombax only ran a few yards before stopping in the lonely hallway and leaning absentmindedly against one of the walls. Ratchet's breathing became labored trying to get more air into his lungs from the marathon of running and dodging trying not to die from a hit or a flare blast in his direction. More tired than sore, he checked his injury. The wound was near his elbow and the charred skin prickled in tingling pain. A little blood seeped from the sting, but it didn't threaten to bleed out, it wasn't a fatal sore, it just looked worse than it really was. It corresponded in the class to something regular on his list, definitely to getting worse things.

"Ratchet?" he heard the lombax on his shoulder. He had forgotten to answer Clank.

Sighing, he managed to calm his shaken appearance and replied, "I'm fine Cans, I just got burned a little" It was nothing that could stop him anyway, Ratchet would be fine. "Don't worry" he said as he ripped the sleeve of his clothes into tatters to finish wrapping the wound. There was no guarantee they would find Nanotech that fast.

"There's Nanotech near the camera room, you can heal there" Clank revealed, silencing the lombax's pessimistic thoughts. It made Ratchet happy to know how much he could get wrong with the little robot. 

In silence they advanced, following Clank's indications. In a few minutes they had arrived safely at the next room. 

When they entered the surveillance room, it was unmanned, which was almost a relief to both of them, they didn't need any more shots at Ratchet, and Clank didn't know if he could find the right words to explain his puzzling and dangerous decision to collaborate with an inmate.

Scanning the hundreds of screens piled up in the room, Clank stepped out of his backpack mode and hurried to the main monitors. Ratchet staying behind took a close look at the views and came to a conclusion by discarding what he managed to see.

"She's not out of her personal prison yet, we need to hurry, she won't last long enough with all the explosives rocking the place" Ratchet hinted as the two still searched for the correct screen, there was disarray in each of the lit cameras, the scramble was so chaotic it made it difficult to find the specific exit the prisoner was supposed to be in.

" May I ask, how did you come to the conclusion of that Ratchet?" With the crowds thronging every plant in the place, he still couldn't make out his target.

"Trust me, when she gets mad, she makes sure to let everyone know" he explained from experience, Vendra Prog was unstable in more ways than one. "Not for nothing is she so dangerous that they must freeze her almost literally."

When they found the cameras of the indicated place they revealed on a group of screens a pitched battle in the second main exit, it was also the only one that had stationed in the center of the room a giant dome formed by retention vertices; an oval energy field closed any opening in the large sphere. Hundreds of guards and convicts crowded into different sublevels of cells, fighting and shooting left and right. The dome contained within it a dangerous force to be reckoned with, Vendra Prog. As the security personnel and guards slowly returned everyone to their cells, Clank thought that, with the power restored, the guards might not need his help to return everything to normal. Vendra Prog still guarded herself locked up.

"That won't stand for long" Ratchet pointed out, analyzing the spherical energy dome, his frown deepened in thought and he picked up the controls on the desk, bringing the scope of his visor up on the screen.

"What are you talking about Ratchet?" questioned Clank, not differentiating the real problem, everything looked messy, but more in control than when the energy stalled.

"The carrier" specified the lombax, pointing with his hand to the fasteners that covered the base of the dome, figuring more instability than security. "It loses bolts every so often, it will only hold for a couple more minutes."

Studying the screen that indicated the lombax, Clank immediately noticed what Ratchet was referring to, assuming the consequences of this, he determined without thinking, "Then we must warn, perhaps they can stop the failure in their prison."

"With the rampage still in progress? I don't think so" dismissed the lombax at once. Taking a few seconds to assess the situation, Ratchet mulled over his options. Considering his choice, he practically dragged Clank behind him and departed the room. His direction; the second main exit of the prison.

Nestling the little robot on his back, Clank intuited with obviousness. "Then I guess we will go and stop her."

"If I don't get out of here, she won't either" Ratchet replied, chopping his words from the self-imposed run. Getting there in time was paramount.

It was time to stop Vendra Prog.

Chapter Text

"You, as the only point of start, as the only point of return."

-David Sant. 

Clank feared for his companion's life.

When he asked the lombax on the road if he would treat his recent injury, Ratchet resolutely declined. He mentioned between strides his time against the clock, downplaying the issue of his health. To him, it was a minor injury, nothing he couldn't handle. Hardly that relieved Clank's concern, but he didn't try to insist further, the lombax was stubborn and there was no dissuading him. That left him with the only option of attending to it on his own.

Every instant they stayed together towards Prog's transport, Clank took it upon himself to scan and monitor his feline companion's well-being, and to his luck, his friend didn't seem any more ill or unmotivated carrying the burn on his arm. If it weren't for the erratic way he was spasming at times, he'd think it was really nothing to be alarmed about.

Still, they were getting closer and closer to their goal. Feared and respected by the few who survived their encounters, certainly could assure that this would not be an easy meeting. Containing Vendra Prog was a near impossible challenge, it was fortunate that could lock her up the first time, now they would be lucky if somehow persisted when she reemerged from her cell.

Clank had made an improvised plan in the middle of their journey to the second exit of the prison, a dangerous and risky one, it was inevitable that the two companions would end up on separate paths to cover both parts of the plan. Clank would operate the controls from the surveillance platform at the top of the chamber and Ratchet would be in charge of keeping her in position; if he managed to stall her and make her stay long enough in the center of the room, when it was time to activate the anti-energy retention field, they would immobilize her. She and her power.

As simple as it seemed, he made sure to lay out every setback that would be imposed in the course of the objective. The guards would be in the way for the most part, and if they found Sasha in a bad situation they were more likely to fail before attempting anything. On the other hand, if they managed to convince her to cooperate, they couldn't ensure that there wouldn't be consequences for all the rules broken the instant Ratchet got out and wandered all over the Zordoom complex.

Just can only hope that the help given from Ratchet would be enough to justify his transgressed time out of his cell.

“We will split up” Clank indicated as he noted the immediacy it would take them to reach their target. Less than he was keen to admit. “Before we get there I have to get into the control platform in the room” Clank explained, hoping his partner wouldn't object with how unprepared the next steps of their strategy were. “I'll need time to gather and execute everything, we'll only get one shot Ratchet.”

“... Alright.” Ratchet said after mere moments.

The lombax didn't dare utter another word after that, but always kept his pace brisk, his thoughts focused on the little robot. Clank would be better off out of harm's way, Ratchet asserted; even if he didn't make it, at least he would secure his friend's life.

His only friend.

Thousands of thoughts crossed his mind, many of them led by feelings of uncertainty and bad premonitions. Despite the years of experience he had managing battle after battle, he could acknowledge that not all of them were close victories in his life. Even for a battle-hardened lombax like him, most of his fights were disastrous. Always on the uncertain edge between life and death, surviving in the middle of the battlefield was almost a sixth sense in Ratchet. Excitement and adrenaline kept his senses in wide focus when it came to avoiding the blissful extinction of his existence, be it by an explosive or a fortuitous shot.

And he can still remember the first impression he had when he met the Prog siblings.

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The Prog siblings. Newly known in the Polaris galaxy for their work as bounty hunters and contract killers. Also a big, huge thorn in the empire's side.

They were not a problem for business between the Cragmite Emperor and Ratchet, though they certainly seemed to unceremoniously transgress the Empire's claimed space. They respected no one's authority and that irritated Tachyon more than he let on. Ratchet for his part hasn't had a personal encounter with the Prog, but his soldiers' constant clashes with the pair of twins made him more wary of security in his army. 

Reviews the latest reports of confirmed sightings of the ship allegedly carrying the pair of invaders in the recently conquered area of the galaxy and doesn't like any conjecture formulated in his mind. Remember neatly the first glimpses of the ship in their domain, all of them were counted and distant from each other, both by time and distance, none correlated with any other. The likelihood that they were only seeking and killing their own targets was clear. They would just take the job and wait for the next one to go out and find their next victim or bounty.

Now it was different.

The frequency with which they appeared in the galaxy was exponential compared to their first appearance, and it continued over time. They wandered frequently in every planet around the system, as if they were on the search for something, completely determined to find it. In this manner they eliminated numerous battalions of their forces without turning back at any point.

He would have assumed that they were just looking for a death wish from the Cragmite empire by provoking them like this, but this pair was not like the rest of the idiots that crossed his way. The sister, Vendra Prog was smart, cunning and deadlier than a supernova, she wouldn't do this just to spite the emperor's authority. No, there had to be more.

Then he discovered the security breach. Relevant and very dangerous information had leaked from her own headquarters and it all made sense when he personally took it upon himself to close the gap with a little interrogation of the informant who maintained close communication with the pair of siblings. Quickly coming to the conclusion of the revelation of Tachyon's main objective in Solana and the deal between him and the cragmite.

That kind of confidential information was the sentence it took to kill him. Slow and as painful as his anger would allow. Ratchet never held so much indignation and rage as the instant he wished to kill him with a single shot, but in the first moment he held back long enough to bring up the whole problem at hand, only later making sure to discourage any attempt to betray the empire by exhibiting limb for limb the poor fellow who dared to sell out his secret deal with Tachyon.

Sitting down at his desk, he disdainfully dropped the reports. It would do no good to chafe about the past, now he had to address his main headache. Finding the Prog.

Something that was harder than it sounded. Now not only did he have to solve the first entry for his next planet to search, the Prog would also have to be wiped off the map. He wasn't entirely sure of their involvement regarding the Dimensionator. They were now seeking it for their own uses, and if somehow got control of it before he or Tachyon did, things would only get more complicated.

Now folding his arms, he leaned back in his chair and reasoned. The urgency to find the Dimensionator decanted even more and now with competence would eventually allow more people to get involved and search for the millennia-old artifact. The little secret that they had worked so hard to maintain was shattered as quickly as events unfolded. Definitely had to ensure the anonymity of their true objective as far as the expansion of the Cragmite empire was concerned.

Neftin and Vendra Prog would go down with the little secret they shouldn't have dug up.

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The memory brought a certain cruel irony to his situation.

Keeping some of his concentration on the road he bent his step to the right into the last hallway, at the end a new elevator stood out above the entire corridor. Their landmark to enter the eye of the hurricane. Accelerating as fast as his feet could carry him, he nimbly dodged through the mess of debris strewn in disarray around the place. Thanks to his injury, it was difficult to keep up with everything in his way.

Holding the laceration on his arm close, he climbed up past the last crate that closed the way to the elevator. Ratchet ventured inside without further qualms and pushed the button to the next floor. There was no way to back out of his decision and slowly the anxiety began to grip his head, so overwhelming that it was impossible to ignore. Felt as if he was walking straight to his public execution by will. He would go to the edge of the abyss and just hoped not to fall as fast as sensed he would.

The brief wait was marked as hours for the lombax and the very thoughts gnawed at him with each passing second. Exponentially, everything was falling into a downdraft of negative and intrusive emotions; Restlessness, despair, panic and worst of all, fear.

His fur began to bristle and the adrenaline that was awakening from the uneasiness began to skew him in more ways than one. Suddenly everything became overwhelming. Ratchet didn't need to have another small panic attack now, even if he mentally internalized a string of thoughts that assured that everything would be fine, his body began to betray him in painful and stressful flashes. Trying to minimize it as much as he could, his countenance tightened stiffly as he tried to ignore everything around him, a result as unsuccessful as the flimsy attempt.

The light was so bright that he believed for a few moments it would blind him permanently if he didn't run and find shelter under some shade or the comforting absolute darkness that was the last time he was outside the labyrinthine and sickly prison facility. The thought of burns on his fur came so suddenly that he almost vowed to end up incinerating under the dazzling lights that illuminated every corner of the elevator's tiny space. 

The next thing that came up to haunt him was the noise. Suddenly, everyone decided to raise thousands of decibels over his ears. Although he ignored it most of the time, the noise lingered in every instant over his sensitive eardrums. Usually for Ratchet they were nothing more than mild annoyances in the back of his large ears, now they became as horribly loud and outrageous as a large out-of-tune concert of cluttered and saturated sounds, with him in the front row as well. He had a horrible feeling of wanting to stop the sound at any cost, even if it meant tearing off his own ears so that he would never hear the dreadful noise tearing at his head again.

And the pain turned into torture. Everything began to rush too fast and all he could think of to find a way out was the feeling of tightly coiling in on himself and close everything around him as hard as he could-

“Ratchet.”

Even if his name echoed so faintly amidst the overwhelming sea of noise, thoughts, feelings and pain, it almost instantly dimmed the blinding of his senses that sought to lock him into a sensitivity so sharp and piercing that even breathing began to be so strenuous as to be considered an involuntary movement. 

Everything had felt so oppressive, every sensation, every feeling, every thought. He hadn't even realized everything unconsciously done to stop the overwhelmingness of his situation.

His body shook in perceptible tremors and barely held himself upright; the tenacity to remain still forced him not to bend at the knees as soon as everything came crashing down. His breathing went from calm and unsteady to a few quiet puffs of air that didn't last long enough to get adequate oxygen into the system, which continued to take its toll on his breath. His eyes had closed at some point in the panic and had not reopened until the moment he heard his name.

The elevator stopped at some point, but the doors remained undisturbed, sealed. Clank had also changed his position, now standing in front of the distressed lombax and holding his hands very gently.

As rigid, metallic and hard as Clank's hands were, Ratchet was infinitely comforted by the gentle softness and concern that emanated in encouraging waves from the little robot.

When implicitly Ratchet's vague, unsteady gaze began to meet Clank's distinguishable, concerned optics his hands did not move in an instant to separate or release the grip that lay between them. At that moment, Clank established himself as the sole anchor for the fickle lombax who resisted with the most insane and sickening sense of going mad at any opportunity his own mind seized to sink him permanently.

It would have been simpler for Ratchet to push his feelings aside and return to the steady line of thoughts focused on getting on with the mission. Pretend that nothing had happened to worry about.

Of course, Clank would not ease himself seeing the occasion as so... worrisome.

Clank cared deeply for the people he held in high regard, he cared especially for his friends.

Then he would make sure they were all right.

The look in his lombax companion's eyes was... clouded. It lingered in constant uncertainty, as if lost, without a purpose or something to hold on to. Clank felt the need to drive and make about him, the focal point in that place. If Ratchet couldn't focus on everything at once, then the most stable thing the little robot could offer was his presence alone.

“Ratchet...” With as much kindness as he could muster in his voice, he called a second time, trying to get the lombax's scattered attention; to his luck the other's tired eyelids reacted almost simultaneously to his call, at the same time his friend's hands wavered in agitation and barely controlled spasms. Ratchet was not quite gone as he had initially thought.

That meant many things indeed. He had now taken it upon himself to defuse the situation, not wanting to cause his friend further distress, or worsen even the fragile sense of tenuous control that had settled into the closed environment. Time was not on his side at the moment, but, Ratchet's mental stability took priority over stopping the prison escapees. Now was when they needed him most, and Clank would not leave Ratchet alone in that.

But just to confirm, he asked almost silently with concern permeating his every word, “Ratchet, are you still with me?”

He needed to get the lombax out of his broken mind so he wouldn't end up stuck in a decadent whirlpool of despair. If he could help clear a little of the storm bearing down on his friend, he would surely do so.

“Yes.” As small as the response was, the volume of it was barely received in Clank's receptors. “I'm... I'm fine.” Weakly murmured the lombax.

The slight affirmation, gave the robot assurance to continue, “Ratchet, I know you're not fine, I'm sorry I didn't see it before.” He apologized regretfully, hoping he hadn't made such a blunder in the already troubling situation. “I don't completely know what seems to be overwhelming you so much, and you don't have to tell me if you don't want to.”

“But I'm here, and if you need me, I'll always be here for you.” Promised, in the gentlest voice his modulator could allow, even one as inflexible and robotic as his.

And Clank's metallic hands never left Ratchet's for a moment.

At the same time, with a twinge of pain Ratchet almost felt the desperate sensation of wanting to pull his hands away on the spot. Clank was too much...

Clank was...

Clank was too good for Ratchet.

Kneeling as suddenly as the lombax did, his hands released from those of his metallic companion and an embrace formed for both partners. With Ratchet holding his friend tightly in his arms. Clank, a bit surprised by the action did not remain static and soon reciprocated the hug, comforting the sad lombax.

||...||

Sasha could not deny the bad luck that had befallen her. In any case, she must have foreseen this.

The disaster had begun when an altercation broke out in the vicinity of Zordoom. Ships and criminals overwhelmed the guard in a matter of minutes and everything got worse when power was limited throughout the prison complex. But that didn't even cover her first dilemma to solve.

This was a plan hatched to free Vendra Prog; presumably concocted by her fugitive brother who had managed to escape from the Polaris authorities. They weakened defenses, cut power and caused a riot of escapees and inmates in less than an hour. Communications were the first to be cut off from the complex and without Sasha to maintain order, disaster spread quickly. However, the best choice to make remained with her when she discovered the target of the attack.

As Warden, Sasha would not allow the escape of a creature as dangerous and powerful as Vendra. As soon as she stopped the transfer of the nether's personal prison, Sasha maintained a siege on the shuttle that held her in stasis. In the middle of the large space just above Zordoom's second most prominent exit, Sasha implemented a defense on the mobile cargo, and nothing above or below ground could dislodge her from her position.

Inmates and criminals galore tried to inhibit the force of guards escorting the prisoner, but they hardly managed to outflank her soldiers.

Unexpectedly, the power returned in the blink of an eye, and both cells and control protocols were quickly executed. That cleared out two quarters of the inmates obstructing their work and Sasha was allowed to breathe easy for a moment thanks to the quick control of the situation.

Until all hell broke loose.  

Sasha couldn't keep an eye on everything in the midst of the chaos and the only goal to defend was to keep Vendra captive at all costs. Unfortunately, she never noticed the damage to the containment cell and her negligence would cost them all their lives.

The ground they were walking on began to shake and the mechanisms of Prog's prison began to creak and twist until they broke in small bursts from the great psychic pressure exerted by the nether. The prison would break in a matter of seconds and Sasha had to act now. 

“Sentinels, hold positions, formation 3-6-0!” Ordered as soon as she set up a perimeter of what would soon be a major disaster. “Status report, can you hear me!” Shouted to her communicator.

The response was interrupted as a wave of power reverberated through those present, rocking the ground with a tangible and undeniable calamity that would make anyone shudder. The complex's facilities barely withstood the energy field emanating from the nearly broken prison and for an instant Sasha estimated another danger to be warned of when cracks began to appear in the walls that told of a complete collapse of a significant quarter of the prison.

The tremors continued and the seals enclosing Vendra fell one by one.

Sasha had to think of something. She had to stop Vendra Prog, but she couldn't allow more prisoners to escape or risk losing more guards in action.

So, an idea took shape, but the realization of what it entailed came too late to execute.

In a burst of energy wrapped in purple hues, the smoke spread like a bomb blast; it pushed his sentries hard. It choked the breath out of the place and the atmosphere from one moment to the next became turbulent, tense and imbued with a sensation akin to death.

Heart pounded heavily and she swore could hear it thudding above the gradual buzzing that had settled in as soon as the cell opened. Sasha didn't trust herself to look away from the center of the disaster, her instincts screaming not to make any false moves. One sound, one movement, one mistake could claim her life.

Sighing as quietly as possible, quickly fixed her sights on the hovering figure in the center of the chamber and fired.

||...||

With the comforting moment in the background, the decisive circumstance was just a few elevator levels away from presenting itself directly to the small duo of friends. The plan was simple; Enter, distract, survive and capture. Clank's part would keep him on the side of the situation, while Ratchet would grant the opportunity for the final shot.

It would depend on the state of the situation as to what action to take, but the plan would remain set. With limited resources at hand, that was their best chance.

|3 dialed the elevator|

Ratchet closed his eyes and cleared the tension built up in his head. Clarity in a fight was key to survival.

|2 followed later|

Then he unclenched the fists of his hands and stretched out his fingers, the pain in his arm had not abated throughout and he struggled to ignore it when it resurfaced with more presence as he exerted his muscles. Pressure wouldn't do any use if he wasn't in combat.

|1 signalled the end of the count|

The call of the transport echoed in his ears. Opening his eyes, Ratchet adopted a low, open stance, ready to run as quickly as possible. Forcing his heart to calm down, he kept his fear at bay.

And in the blink of an eye, he remembered what he had learned about the nether.

...

When the floodgates opened, Ratchet's only thought was summed up in one word: chaos. Pure, uncontainable chaos.

The blast wave had reached his ears seconds before he reached the level, so the mess he was witnessing couldn't have been long in the making.

Smoke billowed from several directions, the main power failing to short-circuit the lighting in the place, partially obscuring every corner of the exit port. Boxes, entire pieces of roof and walls were scattered everywhere, as if a hurricane had blown through and tossed everything about with disproportionate force, but that was not the worst of it, nor the first thing he had noticed as soon as he left the surface of the place.

Not far from them, there were still objects levitated by the awesome power he had felt in the air, a fact that warned of the deadly presence that still lingered there. And wondering how near or far the powerful witch was, in an instant, all his suspicions and searches became evident.

As the soot began to disperse, he saw her in the centre of the place, levitating and rising above them all, turning back to the elevator from which they emerged.

Vendra Prog.

The only one who has managed to defeat him and threatened to kill him.

The dread that came over him as he encountered the fearsome witch once more froze his every movement and muted his every thought.

A metallic hand soon interrupted his unconscious (un)actions, holding his arm, a sign of support.

Right, the plan.

Moving in as quietly as possible, he ended up crouched mere inches above the ground, trying not to be seen yet by the nether. But, considering his luck, she would probably already know they were there, so he had to do everything he could to get Clank to the entrance of the control booth; without the first part of the plan, there would be no point in executing the rest.

As he made his way through the vast site, he kept a constant eye on every move the space witch made; Vendra was faster and deadlier than any unwary would be able to react to, and Ratchet would make sure not to let himself be surprised in the slightest. It would only take a little misfortune to ruin everything.

Surprisingly, she hadn't changed her stance at any point; she seemed more contemplative than threatening, too intent on assimilating her own release, or probably the effects of stasis were still affecting her perception. It wasn't easy to remain frozen for so long without getting something akin to disorientation. That was his most plausible guess, and he hoped it was unequivocal.

In no time at all, they had made it halfway across the road, only needing to go around the remains of the boxes to the main entrance of the next room.

“You took too long, you worthless.” Vendra said with contempt seeping into her words.

Ratchet froze in his tracks as soon as heard her speak, but when he turned his gaze carefully on her, noted that she hadn't directed those words at them.

“It wasn't easy, you know?” heard the voice of the other twin; Neftin Prog. “I had to hire a lot of people to get you out of here, it took me months to organise an assault that wouldn't stop us in the first instant.”

“You left me here... for months?!”

Confident, the lombax crept forward as the sibling squabble continued in the background. As soon as they stopped their quarrel, sooner they would realise how little time they had to escape from Zordoom. And it was not a scenario he sought to deal with.

Just as he took the next step, Clank's hand reached out to grasp his arm, followed by a hard squeeze, communicating a clear and concise message without the need for spoken words; Stop.

Stunned by the warning, he immediately returned his gaze to Clank, searching for some reason for the unexpected act. With confusion marking his face, Ratchet got no response from the robot, who did not turn his optics away from a specific direction that somehow had him as self-absorbed as cold. And as cautiously followed in the same direction, he was met with a surprising, but not unexpected, success.

Certainly, the cazar were difficult to eliminate, for otherwise, he would not witness the Warden of Zordoom hiding behind an uneven pile of rubble near his objective where he was carrying Clank. She did not appear to be seriously injured, and yet that was not what disturbed him most when he caught a glimpse of her in the distance, it was everything else.

She wasn't unconscious, evident by the way she was pointing her gun directly at him with a hard, determined look in her eyes. Being very clear with the message she wanted to give; don't move.

A large grimace made its way onto the lombax's face, annoyed at having to deal with another inconvenience in his way. Of all the bad things that would substantially (eventually) happen in his plan to re-imprison Vendra Prog, this unforeseen event was not the first thing that came to mind when he set out on his spontaneous mission. Regardless, the last thing he wanted to do was to start another battle in the midst of a situation as delicate as the one at hand.

So, determined not to blow his cover just yet, he refused to move from his spot, waiting, trusting that his companion would have a better idea of how to proceed without compromising his anonymity in the face of the dangerous twins.

And fortuitously for Ratchet, Clank indeed began to communicate with Sasha through signs and hand gestures. Leaving him to await a positive, or at least a non-combative, response from the prison warden.

Watching the one-sided exchange of notes between Clank and Sasha out of the corner of his eye, he was able to glimpse the subtle but present shifts in attitude that the Cazar had gone through, in a matter of mere moments. Confusion, anger, denial, surprise, assimilation and finally a brief and swift acceptance. Moments later, she pulled the sights of her weapon away from Ratchet's head.

“I don't care what it cost you! It's your job to figure it out!” shouted Vendra, furious. “Did you at least manage to find the location of the Dimensionator?”

“I...” began Neftin before running out of answers.

“You're completely useless!” repudiated his sister carelessly. “I'll find it myself, now get the hell out of here.”

No, no, no! Couldn't let them get away now!

The urge to come out of hiding and confront the Prog twins was fleetingly interrupted when he remembered what he would have to do when he revealed their presence, as much as he didn't want to fight in those precise conditions; unprotected, without weapons or gadgets and even against two formidable opponents. Also taking into account that there would be no point of return either, and he definitely wouldn't be taking Clank—still strapped to his back—with him. Even with all the odds stacked against him, Ratchet had to go it alone.

So, he forced himself for the sake of his sanity not to think about the consequences of his actions as he disconnected Clank's hitch with him, only to run off seconds later in the same direction the twins had gone as they began to leave the compound. And when he realised that neither of them had noticed his presence there, a terribly dangerous idea to execute immediately flashed into his conscience.

But if risks were involved, he preferred to be the one to take them.

Skidding, he stopped his race to catch up with them and instead, he cupped his mouth between his hands, shouting loudly:

“Leaving so soon, Witch?!” Yelled Ratchet, seeking to coax out Vendra Prog's vengeful nature. ‘I haven't forgotten our last fight!’ he alluded with a smug grin.

His appearance was enough to stop the nether in her tracks. As he watched her turn to face him, shivers crawled down his spine and every nerve in his body tensed the moment their gazes met. Ratchet thought himself capable of turning and running in the opposite direction of the witch, but that would take his dignity along with his life in a very painful and cowardly way.

“...You...” Vendra mumbled through teeth, her eyelids wide open in fury. Blasts of pure energy started to burst from her aura, like a slow fire spreading rapidly. “Because of you I've been rotting in this disgusting place...” she said resentfully to the lombax as she gradually clenched her hands into fists. ‘I should kill you right now.’

Already had her attention, now he just needed to keep it there-

“We can't stay any longer sister, leave him, then you'll get revenge.” Interrupted the other twin, more focused on leaving than risking his escape.

Vendra didn't make any movement to indicate she had heard Neftin's words. Too intent on gaining retribution for being tricked and subsequently imprisoned thanks to the convicted lombax. And for a second, Ratchet assumed that Vendra would not heed her twin brother’s warning.

But he was proved wrong.

“This won't be the last time we see each other, Lombax.” Vendra said as a death sentence to Ratchet, before turning and leaving the site. 

Shocked and dismayed, Ratchet soon tried to find something that would have an effect on Vendra and preferably his brother Neftin as well. With the seconds counted down and without formulating something effective, he set about pursuing and attacking them at will, until the answer popped into his mind like a ringing finger.

“You're still looking for the Dimensionator, aren't you?” he exclaimed above him. Ratchet smiled nervously as he saw them return their gazes to him.

“...We'll find it first”

“No, you won't.” Ratchet cut her off with nonexistent confidence. He folded his arms awkwardly-because of his previous injury-and almost appeared amused; if toying with death could be considered amusing under the circumstances.

“What makes you so sure of that, lombax?” questioned Neftin in a gravelly, irritated voice, unwilling to play futile games.

“Because I found it.” Ratchet lied easily wearing a defiant smile on his face. Only to immediately say, “And you'll never find it without me.”

“Where is it?” demanded Vendra with energy splashing around her, not enough to manage to capture Ratchet at a distance.

“You think I'll tell you? Why don't you come and make me, witch?” replied the lombax mockingly as he prepared to run.

Vendra sneered contemptuously, the power emanating from her becoming more present with brief but violent bursts of energy emerging from her being, each one engulfing and growing exponentially upon the last. It was obvious that she would hold back from nothing to get what she wanted.

“You'll tell me, even if I have to break every limb of your scrawny little body.” 

||...||

Clank ran quickly towards the entrance of the cabin, distressed at how little time he had to get everything ready.

He climbed over a couple of debris, stumbled as he tried to dodge every obstacle in his path, and finally arrived just before the fight between lombax and nether's broke out behind him.

With the operator's permit he had been granted years ago, the hatch gave him access to the large lift available that would transport him to the control booth, which was a few metres above the terminal. He entered without looking back and soon ascended to the spacious control room.

To his misfortune, there was not a single maintenance individual in sight, a factor that annoyed him but made no difference to his work; still, Clank would have appreciated a little assistance in programming and executing everything. With just him and no one else on the task, it would significantly delay their objective; precious seconds that Ratchet was getting for Clank, wasted by delaying the other half of the mission.

Determined, Clank climbed into the first chair he could find next to the command table and began to search through the inmate isolation protocols. He wouldn't be discouraged by how little he had to work with, he knew from the start how complicated and even impossible it was to do something like this, and yet they were both determined to carry out their unorthodox plan. Clank had no doubts about making it work, somehow....

He just hoped that Ratchet could withstand the pair of twins for the necessary time it would take to reprogram at least one emergency procedure.

||…||

Ratchet ran greedily.

He couldn't face Vendra and Neftin at the same time, he knew, and he wasn't crazy enough to try to attack or defend himself. His only option for survival was that; to run.

Because as long as he wouldn't get caught...

“Get back here, you damned lombax!” Vendra shouted after him, her hand raised in pursuit, looking to catch him with her powers. Neftin from his position, fired blasts from his disintegrator.

They couldn't run without risking losing their only ticket to the valuable dimensional artefact.

And while Ratchet possessed no such relevant information about the exact location, he knew that as soon as the twins discovered him, they would kill him on the spot.

At the same time, complicating the whole affair, were Clank's only instructions for his plan to work. Keep Vendra Prog in the centre of the chamber, and from his brother no warning for slipping up on either. It never occurred to them the possibility of facing the pair of twins in the same space, let alone at the same time. Ratchet must have seen it coming from the start; the Prog twins never separated, for they only had each other.

He leapt over a couple of tall pieces of debris and at the top propelled himself to turn in the opposite direction, seeking to carry Vendra back to the centre, dodging the pieces of ceiling, walls and floor dislodged all over the place. With the smoke that had formed from the shattered facilities, it was also difficult to act accordingly without losing the pace of the race. Ratchet would have at most a couple more laps before Vendra or Neftin would start bringing out the big guns.

And when that happened, running wouldn't be enough.

“Coward, get back here and fight!” Vendra exclaimed before lifting heavy debris from the destruction gained by the escape with her telekinesis.

The impact of the improvised projectiles came very close to Ratchet's run, forcing him to swerve his course so as not to stumble because of how fast he was going.

With an instantaneous thought, he doubled his steps and crossed a threshold of smoke that rose to cover much of Vendra's aerial vision, ducking beneath the next stretch of giant floor that had been ripped away and folded back to its original position. He would regroup to at least find a weapon or something that can serve as an offensive in the event of a direct confrontation.

Trying to make as little noise as possible, he crawled under the watchful eye of Vendra, who was still searching for the lombax far ahead of where he currently stood. The pain in Ratchet's arm hadn't dissipated at all and constantly propping it up to move made the task at hand difficult, but it didn't stop him.

“You won't get out of here alive Ratchet...” Vendra hissed, similar to the noise Ratchet used to hear in the walls, as if they were all whispering in his ear in unison. “It was lucky what happened that time...” the nether said before stating: “And it won't happen again now.”

Ratchet, uncomfortable with the atmosphere Vendra generated, sensed the bloodlust she gave off just by her presence; all too similar to his own when he was being bothered. Kept his breathing as calm as possible and continued on the way, slow and measured, for his nerves were on edge, aware that one small mistake would jeopardise all his work. And he didn't plan to disappoint his partner.

Just as Ratchet was counting on Clank, Clank was counting on Ratchet.

Just at the edge of the stretch of rubble, he spotted the average prison guard's weapon on the ground; two metres away was the difference between life and death. But to go out and take it would mean revealing his whereabouts to the enemy, and the witch would soon corner him with the greater area card in her favour.

He tested his chances in mere moments, and found no result satisfactory. In the end, he decided to give up and passed the weapon opportunity by. In desperation, he frantically searched the next cluttered space for a better option, time was running out and the Prog twins would not take long to find him at that rate.

“Hey you!” Ratchet heard a new voice rise above Vendra Prog's; and for an instant he imagined he was delirious. “You deformed megaphobe face! You're going to pay for all the damage you did to my prison!” Sasha Phyronix exclaimed to the main perpetrator of the riot; Neftin Prog.

Two against two didn't sound so bad. And with the attention focused on the Warden, Ratchet quickly made his way to the weapon he had found, easily eluding the twins' periphery. Quickly he lifted it off the ground and took to the deck, checking the ammunition. Grunted under his breath as he found only a full quart of the original load; Ratchet needed at least two quarts to put up a decent fight.

He was tempted to keep looking for more ammo or weapons, but he knew that the Warden no matter how skilled she was, she wouldn't last two turns with both twins in the same game, had to balance things out.

“Can't you catch me Witch!?” called Ratchet as he moved off in the opposite direction to Sasha, who was holding the hulking twin's attention.

Immediately, Vendra approached Ratchet, shrieking with rage. The lombax knew that they would gain some advantage if he could separate the two siblings, and considering how little sympathy Vendra had for his twin Neftin, the idea was not difficult to realise.

But the main problem resurfaced once again; facing Vendra Prog, adding up to an injured arm and less than half ammunition.

Ratchet was terrified at the thought of trying to fight Vendra in that condition, and suddenly remembered that these were not the worst circumstances he had ever faced. He had killed an adult grunthor at the tender age of ten and had already fought battles against entire planets shortly after his eighteenth. This time was no different, he was no longer inexperienced when it came to fighting for survival. It was all about being careful.

The one rule he couldn't break was not to get caught by the nether under any circumstances. One false step would be game over.

So he ran, much faster and more agile than he had ever done in his life, with only one goal in mind; to keep Vendra focused on him. 

Everything else was irrelevant.

.

.

.

The inmate was able to evade her for 10 minutes.

.

.

.

“Too slow space witch!” Ratchet sneered as he evaded another of her attacks. She might be powerful, but power didn't always ensure skill, so he was better. 

.

.

.

“What, your power is not enough against a pest like me?” the lombax challenged spitefully. Seeking to dull the witch's aim. The more frustrated she became, the easier it was to shoot her with the disintegrator pistol. And even if he failed at doing much damage, the point of his mission still remained.

.

.

.

He eluded her for another 5 minutes.

.

.

.

“I thought you were looking for the Dimensionator, I see you don't want it as much as I do!”

And Ratchet pressed his luck to the extreme. For Vendra's next shot, brought with it a volley of rage imbued with power. The same burst that shook the place and sent him off balance as he manoeuvred over a badly piled pile of rubble. Ratchet's carelessness had put him out of the central range he was trying so hard to maintain, and with it, his speed dropped a second later than usual.

A second that cost him everything. When he set out to keep the distance between himself and Vendra, it was too late.

His body stopped responding as shivers crawled up his spine. Reprising his failure, he felt frustrated from head to toe; the recklessness he used to his advantage was also his greatest weakness.

Overwhelmed by the immense pressure of power the twin was applying on Ratchet, his body was petrified, absorbed by the energy the nether was imposing on him. Without hesitation, his body began to levitate in the air; and try as he might to dissipate the control and move again at will, Ratchet failed to overcome the bounty hunter.

When his gaze mistakenly stumbled into Vendra Prog's, he saw the fierce satisfaction that framed every inch of her face, showing her great enjoyment at having him practically on a silver platter. Now, there was nothing standing between her and her sole objective.

“Listen lombax, I don't have time for your games, so, will you tell me now where the Dimensionator is...” she demanded gravitating uncomfortably close to him before silently pausing. “...Or I can do this too.”

And the thunderous sound of something tearing echoed throughout the place, accompanied by an indescribable pain throbbing in the previously injured arm.

From the surprise and unexpected sudden pain, Ratchet couldn't stifle the pathetic scream he let out when his whole arm twisted in the wrong direction. Broken would probably be bad, but with contorted nerves and ligaments, he preferred to have gotten only a broken bone. The damage induced a sharp pain that spread up his spine, interrupting every planned tactic to loosen his grip on the nether.

It hurt too much. And for a few moments, that was Ratchet's only thought.

Abruptly his body was thrown to the ground and the shock knocked the air from his lungs, at the same time shaking his head so violently that everything around him began to distort. His own thoughts became meaningless, and his feeble vision did not help. Simple things like up or down started to confuse his poor perception, and the lack of oxygen almost succeeded in taking away his consciousness. The only good thing about the blow was that the pressure in his arm was gone, and the pain eased a little.

Without giving him time to recover, Ratchet felt himself being lifted carelessly off the ground. Now he was dangling on his feet, both arms pinned behind his back, preventing any chance of defending himself or attacking.

He could barely open his eyes when he again met Vendra Prog's unhinged, amused gaze.

“Speak, now...” she said demandingly, in deadly, frigid contemplation.

“...Ha Is that all you got, bitch?” Ratchet coughed through his teeth, grinning with a grimace of discomfort. Unwilling to give her the satisfaction or anything remotely close to the truth behind his white lie. He hated her, and if he had every one of his faculties intact, Ratchet was sure he would kill her without a whimper.

“Maybe a little conditioning will change that horrible attitude of yours.”

Ratchet heard this before his left arm extended away from his side. Mentally he prepared himself to face whatever method of torture would present itself. Determined to keep his pride, he vowed that nothing would break him, because after all... for Ratchet pain was always the best teacher.

The witch began by breaking each individual finger on his hand; slowly and methodically twisting them before breaking, one after the other, all without even making a single move to touch him. She just stared at him with an unwavering intensity in her eyes and Ratchet in his hatred coupled with his plain stubbornness did not turn away or show any weakness. His willingness proved to be immense to a noxious degree.

When she had finished with his hand, she followed his forearm, forcing the process down a more cruel and deplorable path for the lombax, seeking to prolong the suffering.

“Where is it?” Vendra asked in a terrifyingly calm voice, pushing Ratchet's forearm to the limit.

“Fuck you, witch!” Ratchet shouted, clenching his jaw hard and baring his fangs in defiance, but with a maddening edge.

And his eyes were mirrored in the other's gaze; as deranged as they once were before Zordoom... before his whole life took a one hundred and eighty degree turn. Where reasoning no longer matched his decadent sense of self-preservation.

Whether he died or not, he no longer cared, Ratchet would come back from the dead to accomplish his goal.

Kill them... all of them-

He snapped out of his reverie when the forearm gave way instantly, emitting a strange noise; but the pain was not as prominent this time. Broken and battered, it was the only thing that brought the lombax at least partially out of his delirium.

Everything felt out of place, as if it wasn't him there, too detached from reality... lost. What was he doing here?

The escape. The power outage. A plan...

His partner.

It all came back to him in a moment of clarity. Ratchet was no longer the murderous commander who served the army of a dead and forgotten emperor. Now he had a partner and a mission to accomplish.

...And the pain returned with full presence, blinding his vision and forcing him to close both eyes from the sheer overload and discomfort he felt.

Fully aware of the situation, he tried to conceal the brief collapse he had in the few lost seconds of his memory. Resuming his gaze-and without taking his pupils away from Vendra-he vaguely distinguished in outline the distance between the centre of the enclosure and his current position. Not as far as he had initially thought.

Even if there was a slim chance it would work, Ratchet decided to take advantage of that and resist as long as it took.

“Speak up already... your obstinacy is getting annoying.” She said in the face of his self-absorbed silence.

His arm burned and prickled with pain, blood seeping into every crevice left behind by the previous punishment, and even so....

“Make me...” He said in a muffled whisper. Ratchet did not relent.

With his response, he only got a broken leg and the other arm dislocated, damage that made him gibber choked, unintelligible noises of suffering no more strident than mere dry hisses in his throat. 

Ratchet was so focused on breathing so as not to lose his sanity again that he didn't notice Vendra's next grip on him before it was too late.

Returning his body headfirst to normal, Vendra's powers grabbed him by the neck while letting the rest of his broken and bloodied limbs sink beneath the force of gravity's pull.

His throat tightened in the grip made it difficult for Ratchet to continue to keep his gaze on the Nether, but he refused to speak and simply remained silent, further irritating the psyche of Vendra Prog, who, fully intent on getting answers, thought to resort to the only method she reserved for special occasions.

“I see you won't confess a single word... good.” She said before summoning upon herself a dark energy that distorted reality with just the force it emitted.

Vendra turned her cold gaze on Ratchet saying, “Last chance lombax, you can talk and maybe I won't shatter your mind completely when I force my way in to find the answer myself.”

Silence was all she received, Ratchet said nothing.

“Fine.” She said angrily before slowly raising her arm towards Ratchet's head with enough power concentrated in the palm of her hand; ready to rip useless memories from a disturbed mind.

And even with death looming over his head, Ratchet did not plead or argue. Just as he would not allow himself to let Clank down.

Because everything he had done up to that very moment, was thanks to his only friend, and Ratchet sadly but gladly accepted the end of that journey.

.

.

.

.

.

.

At least it seemed that way. Because Clank had a habit of acting at the most opportune moment, which could also be considered the last instant to do something. And fortunately that act was the only thing that saved Ratchet from posterity.

A force field soon hovered over the nether, established by the multiple pieces of isolation protocol that the little robot had imperceptibly placed thanks to the changes made to the original program; executing the action without warning to the rest of the compound. And with Vendra Prog's unwavering attention on the last of the lombax, it never occurred to her that such a thing would happen behind her back.

The pressure that pinned Ratchet's neck dissipated as soon as Vendra was restrained, and without a second glance the convict fell from the top to the ground in a mess of wounds, broken bones and blood spilling all around him. Even if he looked almost faint, Ratchet was utterly relieved.

The space witch screamed from shock seconds after the confinement, before taking it all in in the blink of an eye. Summoning her power, she tried to push and break the force field around her, but nothing harmed her new confinement and slowly her energy began to dwindle, to the point of leaving her without her levitation and consequently ending up on the ground, completely defeated.

Vendra Prog would not be leaving Zordoom's prison any time soon.

Now that the hardest part was over, Ratchet's only wish was to get back to Clank; even with bleeding and broken bones, he just wanted to be reunited with his best friend after such an intense situation.

Ratchet needed to know that Clank was safe.

Gathering his last bit of strength and crammed with pain from head to toe, he gritted his teeth as he stood up, leaning on his one intact leg to meet Vendra. Carefully, Ratchet tried to avoid moving his arms as he straightened up, but to keep his balance, he unfortunately had to use his broken leg to stand and forced himself to swallow the pain he was experiencing; fully determined to move forward even if it meant crawling all over the place.

Barely conscious, and with wobbly vision Ratchet walked. Limping every step he took and dying of pain in the process, he sought to get his bearings to fix on the direction Clank had taken since their separation.

He made it through a small stretch of pained hissing, before stumbling and almost falling face first to the ground, narrowly avoiding the horrible fate of only ending up on his knees. Ratchet took a long, deep breath, gathering his will to try and get up again and look for....

“Ratchet!” cried a familiar voice.

And fixing his gaze on the call, Ratchet saw it. He beheld a small, defective robot approaching him.

Relieved to see Clank's chassis intact, the inmate was soon filled with genuine happiness.

We did it, huh?

“Ratchet! Are you...” began Clank in the distance, oblivious to the severity of the injuries Ratchet was sporting on his body. But as he reached his side, his enthusiastic countenance changed spontaneously, with horror looming over the robot's simple metallic features. “For zoni... Ratchet, your arms and... your leg...” he said, approaching slowly, not daring to touch the lombax, for fear of causing it more pain.

But none of that mattered to the lombax. He would gladly suffer it as many times as it took.

“Don't worry, it'll be all right...” Ratchet said, his eyes tired and a slight smile on his face. “It's good to see you again friend.”

“But you... you almost died in there.” Clank hesitated in his words, guilt clogging his voice. “You almost died because of me.” He said denoting his responsibility.

Said remembering what had happened the last time he left someone.

“I'm still here because of you, that's the truth.” Replied the inmate as he slowly got to his feet.

“I...”

And the small moment between the two was ruined in an arbitrary manner. Dozens of guards surrounded them in a matter of seconds, all aiming their weapons at the most dangerous lombax in the galaxy. One wrong move on Ratchet's part and it would all be over in seconds.

But Ratchet didn't even consider that possibility, because aside from being painful, he didn't really have a plan to even evade a single point-blank shot, let alone a dozen more of them in his back. Failing that-contemplating the perimeter that had formed between him and the sentries-he was puzzled by the indulgence of the robot guards in not immediately closing in to apprehend him.

“Wait! Don't shoot, Ratchet won't do anything to escape!” Clank explained, raising both hands to stop the soldiers, interposing himself between the conflict.

“Archivist Clank, for your safety we warn you to leave the premises immediately, the lombax is the priority of the Zordoom guard and we will make sure we do our duty at all costs.” Said the unit commander, a tall, unfeeling robot who never took his eyes off Ratchet at any moment.

The message between the lines angered Ratchet. His fur bristled and his ears perked up, intimidating the sentries. They would consider Clank only collateral damage if it meant capturing him.

Ratchet would not allow it.

“Clank back off now.” Ratchet said in a harsh, heartless voice, trying to push the little robot-his companion-away so he wouldn't end up hurt or worse.

“I won't leave you alone, especially not with those injuries, Ratchet.” Clank replied, firmly in place, hoping to control the situation, before it got out of hand.

“You're just putting yourself in danger, do you really think-”

“Stay by your side? Because I don't plan to walk away from you.” said Clank cutting off the lombax's cruel treatment with a bold tone. Determined to stay with Ratchet.

And unwittingly, his words touched the sensitive heart of Ratchet, who could not assimilate the amount of devotion Clank had for him; so genuine that it fanned the pent-up pain in his feelings. Such was his grief, that he could not object or utter a word without risking sobbing.

“Cease fire!” The order was raised above them all, stopping the harassment of the sentries and allowing Ratchet and Clank to breathe easy.

“Don't shoot.” Sasha commanded, approaching the centre of the commotion, passing the soldiers and stopping in front of the squad circle. “The convict will come willingly to his cell, won't you lombax?”

To Ratchet, Sasha was annoyingly pretentious, but he wasn't reluctant or incredulous of her ability to handle the situation, it was surprising to see her mostly unscathed from the skirmish propitiated by the other twin; Ratchet had almost forgotten she was there too.

Ratchet turned his gaze to Clank who reciprocated immediately and got the message.

“He will go. Although he needs help to... walk, as you can see.” Clank explained, very concerned as he observed Ratchet's physical integrity; there wasn't a single limb on his body that wasn't oozing blood.

Looking at him, Sasha instantly understood what Clank was saying and ordered his metallic sentries to help the incapacitated prisoner. Two of them did not hesitate to lift him carelessly on both sides, holding his battered arms; making him grunt under his breath, stubborn to admit his discomfort.

Ratchet was carried with a guard guarding his return inside the facility. Clank followed close behind, ignoring the warnings of every bot soldier who admonished him for staying so close to the lombax, saying things like; ‘stay away from the dangerous convict’.

Clank thought it was stupid to attach the word ‘danger’ to Ratchet when he couldn't even walk without tripping and falling.

Ignoring the sentries, Clank noticed how discouraged and sad Ratchet looked. Despite winning the battle, the victory didn't feel like that for either of them and the plight of the trial loomed larger, highlighted by the fact that the whole escape thing was over; the adrenaline subsided, and with it bitter thoughts arose in both friends.

Clank almost lost Ratchet in the midst of all the chaos and Ratchet would surely never be near Clank again; a fact that broke the recluse inside. Their time together had been quite enlightening, as if the two were meant to be just that; a team.

It was a shame that the reality didn't reflect that feeling, still, Clank didn't want that to be the only thing they remembered from their whole experience together.

“Hopefully next time, I'll be the one doing the heavy lifting, what do you say?” said Clank jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

And Ratchet just laughed.

Before abruptly stopping and starting coughing up blood loudly.

“Ratchet! Are you alright?” Ratchet heard Clank ask.

“Sure...” he uttered weakly, before collapsing from exhaustion, blood loss and pain.