Ratchet and Clank: Lifeforce Chapter 41

Lifeforce Chapter 41

“Cruel people offer pity when they no longer feel threatened. However, kind people offer compassion and understanding regardless.” 
― Shannon L. Alder

Tres Mis

When Ratchet came to, he wasn't lying on the ground. The next thing he knew, he was standing opposite Ickabar's grave, staring down at the ivy-covered stone, his hands limp at his side. The nausea had faded and he had the feeling of someone who'd just recovered from a severe bout of flu; stiff, hungry and exhausted.

Inside, however, he felt an ache chipping at his chest. For a moment he didn't realize what he'd just seen. He closed his eyes, his mind flipping through the hundreds of memories he'd seen. It was really over. Ickabar was dead. He'd been a living person, in his mind, and there he lay opposite him. It felt unreal.

Wait.

Ratchet's head reeled. Percival Locksher was alive. He glanced sideways at the grave, the empty grave, as clarity rang in his brain. Could it be that this was the answer? Could Percival Locksher have something to do with the whereabouts of the Lifeforce? Had these horrible memories been leading to him?

But how would he ever locate him? How did he know if he was even alive?

Perhaps it wasn't over.

Ratchet breathed in and turned away from the grave. He'd need to get back to Clank and Trisby – where was it they were to meet? Yes – the library on Cobalia. It's almost felt like they'd planned that months ago. Ratchet stretched, flexing his stiff fingers. Then he began walking away from the graves.

Then he stopped, and looked over his shoulder at them one last time. The wind tickled his ears. "...This doesn't end here. I'm gonna made sure he pays for what he did."

He strode off, the warmth coming back into his limbs, as he had a lead to go on. He passed through the roads, finding them far colder than he had before, but somehow the emptiness felt greater now that the sickness in his system had faded away. Ratchet's mind slid back to the voice. The thing...it had spoken to him.

He'd almost stopped walking, but forced himself to keep going. He couldn't waste anymore time. Ickabar had mentioned, again, that 'thing' getting closer. Ratchet had no idea how the Lifeforce worked or what it was, but something was definitely...inside it. If it was a thing that could have something inside it.

He rubbed his temples, groaning. That didn't make any sense, either.

His mind slid back to Ickabar, lying in his grave, and he felt his confusion fade into sadness once more. Something in the yellow lombax's chest fell.

It's not like you could have done anything. It happened long ago...

Ratchet returned to his ship, after a long time of walking with a blank mind. He'd simply stopped trying to think about anything. He hopped into the ship, his hands grasping the familiar metal of the control sticks. His fur bristled at the feeling, and with a grin he felt like himself again.

How odd it was. Getting back here felt so quick. In fact, everything seemed to move quicker, even his brain. Still full of questions, and unease...but at least there was somewhere to go from here. Find Ickabar's book...and his son.

...

Her head in her hands, Tressakay leant against the stiff, cold wall. How she'd managed to get away from the gawking crowd she didn't know. All she knew that she was alone, outside in the darkness. Her hands ached, feeling chilled to the bone, while the rest of her body burned.

She mentioned what she'd done in flashes. Shards of ice, glass-like and deadly, forged out of clean air. They'd grown so quickly, and hit the Loki Man – was he dead? She didn't know, and she didn't care.

She did not. The anger had faded, and she knew there was no going back. The council would be furious, horrified – the Loki would be, too. Confused, as well – and they hated not knowing what was going on.

Tressakay wished she knew. Never had it happened that way before. Never had her Lifeforce been so strong, so...violent. She'd felt it in her mind, then in her veins – and then suddenly it had become the ice before her.

A crackling sound caught her attention. She turned her head and slid away from the wall, her heavy breathing catching in her throat. The wall she'd leant on, just where her skin had touched the rock – was gradually freezing over. The frost spread, blue-ish and pale. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a little stream at the edge of the forest beginning to seize up, and a little plant caught by the cold stiffened, and became crooked and still under the frost. The life of it seemingly gone.

Tressakay looked down at her palm, and instead of trying to calm herself, she listened to the beating in her chest, her head, and in her hands.

Maybe there was a good reason for them fearing her.

...

...

Clank stared at the blockade around Cobalia. There was a fleet hovering around the planet; thinly stretched to cover it, but a fleet all the same. Behind him Qwark was chewing loudly on his gloved nails; their tiny ship hidden only by a cloaking device. Trisby stood to his left at the pilot seat, eyeing the enemy ships silently.

"This could be a problem." He commented, though it was obvious. In truth he just wanted to get Trisby talking. She glanced at him, a brow raised his way.

"No kidding. But I have a few ideas in mind." Clank tilted his head, trying not to seem suspicious.

"Like what, exactly?" Trisby's lips curled ever so slightly. Clank tried not to notice it.

"We'll need a distraction. An old fashioned diversion should do the trick on a smaller fleet."

Clank tackled the first question that came to mind, "Which brings another issue – I am aware Tachyon must have already conquered this planet again, but it's coincidental indeed that a fleet appears to guard it, as if knowing we were on our way."

Trisby scowled, slowly. "...The archaeologists." The small creature hit a hand against her forehead, cursing under her breath. Clank blinked.

"This was obvious, urgh – they must have let something slip about where that dratted purple lombax sent his work!"

Clank's optics flashed in alarm. "Oh dear. So this could –"

"Very well be a trap. And with such a measly fleet I wouldn't be surprised. They could already be hovering around some of the libraries on the planet's surface."

Clank ran a hand under his smooth head, where a chin might have been if he hadn't been a robotic lifeform. If this was Nefarious's idea he'd have more confidence in their trap-escaping, but after Ratchet rendered his skull...broken, this could be Tachyon or the Loki's work. Their traps where far more hazardous. Tachyon had torn down large parts of Kerwan in order to attack Ratchet. They weren't Nefarious.

"We may have to take the risk." Clank stated slowly. Trisby's face was, as always, unreadable as she glared at the fleet before then. Then she shrugged nonchalantly, but it seemed forced.

"I suppose we can go along with the diversion plan, then?"

Clank tilted his head, "What did you have in mind?"

"Do you always tilt your head or did our last run in with the baddies break it somehow?"

...

Qwark's ship slowly approached the fleet. Clank and Trisby sat still, watching him. Getting him to do this took at least ten minutes persuasion. Clank had to promise that all it involved was getting close, and then making a heroic retreat. He also reminded him of all the points he'd get on opinion polls should he do this stunt.

Tribsy gripped the steering controls hard and tight, her eyes narrowing. Clank leaned in a tad.

"This seems rather obvious."

"It's our best shot." She replied snippily. Clank tried not to sigh.

Qwark's ship grew close – Clank could almost image the alarm on the fleet pilot's faces – and when the first few ships tilted his way, Qwark bailed. His ship turned, quickly and clumsily, and began speeding back the way it came. A few ships followed.

"It's rather amazing that Qwark was able to get his ship out here on autopilot in the first place."

"I almost wished he didn't. Having him call through the transmitter to it like a dog was beyond unnerving." Trisby replied, throwing down the speed lever. They sped forward, Tribsy aiming for the small gap the Qwark-chasing ships had left. The thinness of the fleet allowed them to travel through quickly. The two of them didn't dare look at the ships so close them, as if unwilling to jinx their luck.

They slid out on the other side of the fleet, and down towards the planet Cobalia. Trisby managed a weak chuckle. Clank sent a beam her way. For a second she almost seemed ready to grin back, but looked at the windscreen instead.

...

Boredom and cragmite emperors didn't mix well. Tachyon was poised atop his throne as always, drumming his sharp fingers on the front of the cockpit of the spider-like contraption, eyeing the display screens above. The fleet around Cobalia was, as the Loki insisted, not as thick as he'd wanted it to be. Nefarious had sprung various traps throughout this plan, and it was more than beating a dead horse to do it again.

Irritably, he listed off their immediate problems. The keeper's brat and his gang where still at large, though ever a step behind them. Then there was this other lombax that apparently had sneaked around the streets of the criminal underworld during his reign, infuriatingly enough – and yet a third in armour wandering around. Of course there was the resistance backing the first lombax and his tin backpack, but they were hardly a threat. Their resistance was merely a stalling act; they hoped their furry hero would save the day before he eroded their defences.

He sneered to himself and glanced at one of the smaller screens. He heard the door to the Battleship cockpit sliding open, and closing shortly after, signalling someone had walked in. He heard a casual humming of a deeper voice – and guessed the Loki. Him and his odd habits. It wasn't pleasant, cheery humming, and to those of weaker nerves it may have been almost eerie. It ended a moment later.

"How long have you observed those screens? We do have minions for that."

Tachyon sneered in response to that remark. "Our enemies could easily slither past our minions."

"Or you are just paranoid." The Loki was idly staring down at his claws – Tachyon scowled at him, wondering why he would when they weren't even his.

"They managed to get right into your precious Ephemeris when your Stewart was meant to be watching. In fact, didn't your 'retired' commander let them in?"

"A minor oversight. I didn't think of them as much of a threat, so I let my lesser deal with them." The Loki replied snippily. Tachyon scoffed, but before he could reply the parasite cut him off, "And if I recall correctly they waltzed into your maximum security prison just as easily. So let's call it an even setback and focus on the task at hand."

The cragmite overlord was nearly taken back. The Loki never ended an argument this way. He glared at him suspiciously before turning his attention back to the screen – only to see a small green ship flittering past the fleet.

"What in the name of-"

There was a florescent 'Q' on the side of the ship. Tachyon gaped for a second, trying to wrap his head around this – and the Loki looked even more surprised. They glanced at each other incredulously before looking back at the screens – indeed, the little ship was burrowing towards the fleet – but suddenly it skidded around in a turn.

The Loki actually chuckled, "It seems he lost his nerve."

"He kept it longer than the halfwit usually would have." Tachyon snarled, grabbing the announcement mike, "Attention troopers –"

The doors to the cockpit slid open once more. Tachyon swung his head around irritably to see who it was, and found Nefarious was in the doorway – his head somewhat repaired, but his eye looking beyond repair, slanted in its socket. The Loki smiled nastily at him, as if on an inside joke. Tachyon looked back at the screen.

"I want that green imbecile apprehended immediately! Alive will do, but I do not care what bodily harm he receives!"

Nefarious stormed in, eyeing them both in disdain – and sized up when he saw the screens. "What?!"

"I'm sure this is exactly what you wished to see upon your recovery." The Loki commented meanly from the left. Nefarious ignored him, swinging around and pointing a metal digit up at Tachyon,

"Listen, grub, this is a job for MY minions, no one takes down Qwark but me and my forces!"

"Your minions are supplied by me for the most part." The Loki snapped. Tachyon tossed the mike away and seized the joysticks that controlled his throne – he was not being back-talked by some metal scrap heap.

"If you do not watch your tongue I'll have you tossed out with the rest of the trash!" The arm of the throne jabbed him forcefully in the chest. Nefarious staggered back before slamming a foot down to balance himself. He was positively fuming. The Loki's mouth twisted in a pointed smirk. Between them and their thrones, above him, and in a room filled with all their minions but none of his, Nefarious looked quite exposed.

The robot scientist folded his arms in forced casualness. The little backpack's words where ringing unwelcomed in his ears now. He didn't like being outnumbered on this. "Weeell, glad to see you two are such pals now. Ya know, considering one of you belongs to the species that destroyed your planet and the other planned on sending a bunch of monsters back to Reepor –"

Their alliance with Nefarious, in a way, could have ended right there – but one of the troopers from the fleet outside Cobalia chose that exact moment to ring in.

"Sirs – Sirs – something got past us while we were trying to apprehend the green thing, sirs!"

The trio stiffened. Slowly, they turned to look at the screens, seeing nothing but Qwark's ship flittering around. Tachyon snarled, his temper flaring, "What do you mean, simpleton?!"

"We do not kn-now, sir – our scanners only picked it up for a second before it got into the atmosphere!"

"A diversion. We were played like fiddles." The Loki sneered. Nefarious swung around and kicked a little worker drone with such force that it split in two as it soared across the room.

"ARGH! They can't be allowed to get to the planet surface! LAWRENCE!"

The butler stuck his head through the doors, "Sir?"

"Have our minions sent to Cobalia whether these two up-starts like it or not!" Tachyon and the Loki looked murderous – "We need to find them before they find what they're looking for!"

"And you have not yet made it clear what that is." The Loki remarked dryly to the cragmite. Despite his earlier threat to demolish Nefarous should he anger him again, the cragmite seemed to be frozen in thought. Then, he smirked, to their great surprise.

"If those little gnats where able to slink by our defences like this, we will not find them quick enough on the surface. However, they will be heading to the libraries...which we will let them do."

"Another trap?" The Loki remarked in a bored air. Tachyon cackled.

"No. We will not go near them. We will leave something in the place of what they wish to find."

"A decoy? It may work - That is if your men find it first." The Loki folded his arms, slowly. Nefarious glowered at them both.

"My forces will slow them down, you pair of pint sized lordships! Mark my words!"

The Loki turned his attention to him, irked. "I'll hold you to that."

...

"...I do hope Ratchet is all right. Being alone at this time..." Clank remarked quietly. Their journey to the planet's surface would be several minutes – which he didn't like the silence of now that Qwark – ironically – was gone. Trisby seemed to sense this, and sighed.

"I'm afraid what we want to happen doesn't matter right now. From what I've heard, your friend is made of tough stuff. He'll make it through some spooky visions no problem."

"He is your friend, too, now, is he not?" Clank said slowly, through with a small smile. Trisby lowered her head and chuckled. She shook her head next.

"You're persistent, I'll give you that. But I doubt even he'd back you up on this one, Clank. I'm afraid you're just too nice for your own good."

Clank didn't know why, but he had the odd feeling that something was troubling Trisby. She'd been more snippy at one point, then another a little...softer. Still blunt either way however. "...Is something on your mind?"

"You asked earlier, and I'll tell you now that if something was bothering me...I wouldn't tell you." Trisby looked at him, then, looking a little stiff. "We're on the same side, Clank, but we're not friends. But we're not enemies either. And mark my words; after this is all over, I doubt you will ever see me again."

There was a clear finality to her tone, and Clank sensed the end of this conversation. Turning to stare back through the windshield, he found himself wishing Ratchet was here more than ever.

...

The armoured lombax moved through the ship slowly and carefully. The corridors where lined with minions after the break-in by the yellow lombax and his friends. Not that it was a problem; he'd slithered through more dangerous halls.

Breathing steadily, he made his way further down the ships' interior, towards the other engines. The damage he'd done to the first one hadn't been enough to slow this beat of a transportation vessel down at all.

He stopped by a door and lifted his head, spotting an air vent shaft above. A quick glance left and right, he kicked off one of the walls and caught onto the bars of the vent door, lifting his legs to his chest. He unscrewed one side and slid in almost clumsily, pulling the door back shut behind him.

In an uncomfortable crouch he made his way through the vent as quietly as possible. He could hear voices, eerily floating in through the other vent openings. Two high-pitched, one a lower key. The big three arguing, probably.

He didn't follow them. Instead he went deeper into the ship. He could hear the jabber of minions below him, and the smell of burning fuel. A grin, hidden by his metal helmet, spread across his face.

He came to a shaft opening, with thin blind-like bars. It was very high up, but there was a barred catwalk-like bridge over the area. He could see the engine furnace, burning and bright, and fuel piled up all around it. The minions where shovelling it in.

Slowly, he slid out of the vents and onto the catwalk. The soft clink he made when landing didn't alert the semi-intelligent beings alone. Still in a crouch, he peered over the side of the bridge to the open furnace below.

He reached into his pocket and drew out a small, round object. Then he stood, lifted his arm, and tossed it to the gaping mouth of the furnace.

BANG.

The giant engine spluttered like a fork in a toaster. The engine fire had ignited the grenade, blowing up the furnace and all the poor minions unfortunate enough to be close to it. The lombax was leaping back into the vent as the heat of the fire began spreading and the alarms sounded all around him.

Back in the vents, he made no attempt to be quiet over the ear-peeling alarm beep, and he snickered to himself as he moved away.

...

Ratchet came out of hyperspace seconds later, to see the Battleship and its accompanying fleet still far away, but visible. As his eyes set on it, he felt his eyes bulge in alarm – fire had appeared at one side of the ship. An explosion.

"What...?" Ratchet peered closer, but at this distance he saw nothing. His mind spun back to the last time he'd been on the ship. The armoured lombax. What – was he still on board?!

Ratchet heard a soft ring. Confused, he looked around for it, and found it on the floor – his communicator. His first instinct was that it was Clank, and relief flared in his chest- only to deflate as he saw a number calling that he didn't recognise.

He answered. "Hello...?"

But no one spoke.

Instead he heard the crackling of fire in the background, as if on display for him to hear.