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Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Talwyn Apogee floated in zero-g as she looked over the results of her efforts with mixed feelings. It had taken her almost a week of non-stop effort just to clear enough room in the sea of research material to breathe. The room which was now much less densely packed, but by no means organized.

The idea to turn off the gravity in her father’s study to prevent what she had taken to calling ‘junk-alanches’ had been, in her mind at least, a brilliant one. It had taken some tweaking of the gravity generation system’s wiring to only turn off the weight in the one room only, but she had managed to figure it out eventually and the lack of gravity had made it ‘much’ easier to dig through the clutter, some of which had been very heavy.

However, to every action, there is a reaction. The downside to turning off the gravity in a room full of junk was that you then found yourself in a room full of junk with no gravity. In the days that passed after that, fishing for answers in the floating debris field had become literally that.

The corridor outside the room and some of the adjacent rooms, which all still had their gravity turned on, were now filled with boxes upon boxes of artifacts and research material. All of which had been painstakingly fished out of the quagmire and sorted.

Talwyn’s system for sorting the material was a step by step process of elimination.

First up was the easy stuff. Her father, Max Apogee, had been an explorer and researcher of many different fascinating subjects throughout the Polaris galaxy and beyond. While Lombax studies were his most impassioned and well-known focus, he had gathered more than enough trinkets and notes from the research of numerous other races and mysteries as well.

All of which hampered Talwyn’s search. Anything she had found over the past few days that did not pertain to Lombaxes had been quickly ushered to the hallway or into an adjacent room.

Next up, the young Markazian knew that she needed information on Ratchet’s father, the Lombax known as Kaden, so she removed all the ‘ancient’ Lombax artifacts and research data.

Talwyn’s own father was extremely interested in the eras of Lombax civilization that had long since been left behind by the technologically advanced race.

Each day she had found crate after crate of old Lombax pottery, drawing, and other relics that he’d likely salvaged from Fastoonian museums or even collected before the reclusive race had disappeared from Polaris.

Finally, Talwyn had decided to remove all the boxes of research that focused heavily on Lombax culture and arts.

Talwyn’s reasoning for this was that she was looking for a famous Lombax scientist, with a secondary objective of locating anything related to Alister Azimuth, a Lombax Praetorian General. She didn’t have the time to waste on anything else at the moment, so if something wasn’t labeled ‘science and technology’ or ‘military’, it had to go.

‘Which was a real shame,’ she had thought to herself as she’d carried another small crate from the weightless room, taking care not underestimate how heavy it might be once she entered the hallway this time.

Over the course of the week, she had found several references to popular cultural figures of Lombax society. One example being her father’s collection of books from a famous Lombax novelist named Clarissa Eros. Many of these stories were focused on romance, which Talwyn loved, so she had kept these in a separate pile so that she could ‘research’ them for her own personal interest, sometime in the future.

She didn’t keep the whole collection, though. The young Markazian had quickly found out that some of Miss Eros’ books were, in fact, ‘x’-rated erotica! These books she had separated from the rest, instead safely stashing away where no innocent eyes might accidentally find them… like her room, under her bed, safe and sound.

After that, she had come across another crate. This one had been filled with holo-recordings of a famous Lombax musician named Sorana Bellit. Talwyn had thought the name had a pretty ring to it, so, in a moment of weakness, she stopped her quest and listened to some of the tracks. She even started playing some as she continued to work.

Apparently, Miss Bellit was a ‘harmonixium’ player. The Harmonixium being a harp-like instrument known galaxy wide as being extremely difficult to master. The art form had fallen out of popularity when the Lombaxes disappeared, but Talwyn couldn’t figure out why, the serene sounds that the holo-recordings tickled her ears with were exquisite.

As interesting as all this was, however, the fact of the matter remained that none of this had to do with Ratchet’s past, or Kaden, and so, reluctantly, the young Markazian had pushed on with the daunting task of removing all the cultural research from the packed room.

As the days had gone by, the study had slowly emptied and the halls had quickly filled. Only then had Talwyn finally realized why her father called this place a study and not a storage archive... because it was!

Underneath the decades of collected junk and dust, she had discovered a full-sized couch, several holo-projectors that had been set-up before being buried, a large lamp meant to help with studying intricate artifacts at a desk (though not the desk), and she’d even found a regular-old bookshelf that one might find in an actual study.

Most surprising of all, however, was that she’d even discovered that the room had a window! In fact, the entire far wall was just one giant plate of thick astral-grade glass.

Talwyn hadn’t even realized it was there until she’d tried to steady herself against it and accidentally scraped away a literal handful of dust from its surface. She had stared in disbelief at the uncovered section and at the soft starlight that had poked through it.

She then immediately set about cleaning off the rest of the thing.

At least part of the reason she did this was just to get a break from the non-stop junk excavation, but it was mostly because she thought that the view would be a nice addition to have while she worked… plus she was starting to worry that all the dust inhalation might kill her while she was alone on the station with no hope of help coming for her.

Now, still floating over the room, Talwyn gave a slight nod of approval, finally deciding that she liked the progress she was making after all her hard work.

She then made sure that all remaining material would fall safely, before slowly turning the gravity back on.

Once standard Markazia-level G’s were attained again, she could sit comfortably while going through the vast amount of information and research data that still remained in the study. All of it Military or Science related.

Talwyn dropped the small crate onto the floor next to the others and wiped the sweat from her brow.

With gravity returned to the study, moving things around was a lot more exhausting. Despite the relatively small amount of remaining research material left in the room, what was left was a disorganized amalgamation of densely-packed crates containing everything from data disks to heavy tools/gadgets of obvious Lombax design.

She had considered moving the weighty devices outside with the other stuff, but she was afraid of separating them from their corresponding research notes, which she intended to go through.

She had also looked into trying to simply lighten the gravity in the room a bit, but that proved problematic as well. The gravity generator had always been finicky, ever since she’d accidentally blasted it with an Alpha Disruptor. Sure, maybe she shouldn’t have been using such a powerful weapon on a space station, but who puts such an important piece of equipment right next to an indoor firing range?

The point being that the generator was already worrying her after she’d just jury-rigged it to cut gravity to her father’s study altogether. Any more tampering might push it over the edge, so she didn’t want to risk making it regulate two different gravitational outputs at once.

So instead, Talwyn had simply tied up her hair and ditched her tight adventurers’ outfit in favor of a simple, lightweight tank top.

The perspiratory evidence of her hard work had left large, unsightly stains over most of her clothes’ surface, but the young Makazian had recently had an epiphany. For the first time since she could remember, she was alone on the Apogee Space station.

When her father had disappeared, she had been too young to be left on her own and since then, Cronk and Zephyr had become an ever-present part of her life.

The last message she’d received from her two warbot guardians had said that they were in pursuit of a large, weaponized drone that had abducted Ratchet and Clank. Of course, Talwyn was worried about the boys, but she also knew that they could handle themselves.

In the meantime, however, this meant that she would be completely alone on the station until their return, so what did it matter what she looked like if no one was there to see it?

Her strenuous efforts hadn’t been for nothing, either. With this last crate she’d just put down, she’d finally sorted through, and roughly organized, the vast library of holo-disks that had made up her father's research notes.

She had gotten lucky in this respect, as a large portion of the collection appeared to have been made for sharing in academic circles. Unlike the haphazard digital recordings and notes meant for the personal use of a single, eccentric Markazian explorer, these holo-disks had been recorded in a way that was meant to be heard by an audience.

Eager to get started digging through data rather than junk, Talwyn quickly popped one of these holo-disks into a nearby projector and turned it on.

In seconds, a life-sized holographic projection of Max Apogee flashed into existence. He stood tall and bold, wearing his trademark explorer outfit and grinning down genially at her.

Talwyn was caught off guard to find her father suddenly standing in front of her, but she quickly shook off the surprise. It was quite common for researchers to explain their findings like this, as no one was more qualified to teach a lesson on their research than themselves. Talwyn had even watched her father record a few of these holo-disks when she was little, so she should have expected it.

“So, you want to know about Lombaxes, ey?” the holographic Markazian asked, with a questioning look. “Well, you’ve come to right place... or perhaps it came to you, if you ordered this holo-disk by mail!”

Max Apogee chuckled at his own joke and Talwyn couldn’t help but groan reflexively at her father’s familiarly cringeworthy humor.

The hologram continued, “In this series, I will be talking about my efforts to find any remnants of the secretive Lombax agency known as the Center for Advanced Lombax Research. It was said to be the most scientifically powerful organization in all of Fastoon, made up of some of the most brilliant minds to ever be born with fur and stripes.”

Talwyn’s ears perked up at this, thinking she may have hit the jackpot already. Kaden was supposed to have been so brilliant, he was made Guardian of the Dimensionator, which the C.A.L.R. was supposed to have developed.

“The first time I’d ever even learned that this shadowy group existed was when I stumbled upon an old research lab in the ruins of Fastoon,” Max Apogee recounted pensively. “The lab was vast and filled with some of the most advanced research equipment I’d ever had the honor of not understanding. The room itself was almost as fascinating as… the tale of how I found it!”

Immediately Talwyn’s posture deflated and she let out a low sigh. After a bit, though, a half-grin returned to her face. She remembered clearly about her father’s habit of dropping tantalizing promises of what he’d learned, only to tangent off into stories of how he’d discovered it in the first place. The details he recounted were either so well remembered, or so heavily embellished, that they often took as long to retell as it had to experience them.

Just as she’d predicted, the holographic Apogee then launched into the epic narrative of adventure through the ruins of Fastoon, filled with excitement, heroism, and most assuredly grand exageration.

Again, the young Markazian grinned and even allowed herself to laugh a little as she watched her father’s antics. He was exactly as she remembered him.

As he continued to recount his journey, however, a small lump began to form in the back of Talwyn’s throat. The one-to-one scale version of her long lost father continued to cheerfully chronicle his harrowing adventure, unaware as Talwyn’s smile faded and something small, but heavy dropped into her stomach.

The sensation was weak at first and she tried to ignore it, but the weight in her gut seemed to get worse each time she heard her the holographic adventurer laugh or tell another awful joke.

By the time Max Apogee had even finished setting the stage for his tale, Talwyn’s stomach was a knot of pain and her eyes were on the verge of tears. She had forgotten how much she missed her father.

The young Markazian glanced solemnly over at the stack of crates, containing literally hundreds of other holo-disks. Only now did she truly understand what Cronk had meant when he’d said he was proud of her for facing her past.

Just as melancholy was about to set in, however, Talwyn set her jaw and took another look at the massive horde of information, all of it pertaining to the science and military history of the Lombax people.

She knew that somewhere in that vast mountain of data there had to be some mention of Ratchet’s father and with it, the keys to Ratchet’s own past.

The thought of giving that key to Ratchet and seeing his reaction quickly warmed the ice from Talwyn’s heart and she resolutely turned back to her own, holographic, father.

Going through these holo-disks was not about the past... neither hers, nor Ratchet’s. It was about the future and what she could do for her ‘knight in fuzzy armor’ with them.

A determined glint entered Talwyn’s eyes and she held her head high with determination. No matter how painful it was, or how long it took, she would find what she was looking for.

Chapter Text

“Day twenty-five,” Talwyn whispered conspiratorially into her holo-recorder. “I have abandoned the bedroom. Despite numerous attempts to make the arduous journey, the long distance between it and the study has proved simply too great and too cold... What was that, Chet?” she asked, a wild eye fixed on the unmoving stuffed Lombax.

The plush doll did not respond.

Talwyn nodded and turned back to her recorder, “Chet makes a good point, I probably ‘could’ make it... if I were to get dressed, but ain’t nobody got time for that. My food supplies are dwindling, though,” she continued as she glanced at the large stack of mostly empty pizza boxes and takeout food containers. “The current stocks will likely only last me a few more days, then I will have to attempt to commune with the gods of Deliv and Ary again, but they are as reluctant as always to travel through an asteroid belt just to get to the station. Although, the taco place has been unusually eager to make the trip, ever since that time I forgot to put on pants when I met their herald at the airlock. Maybe something to consider for the others.”

The young Markazian tried to sound unperturbed in the recording, but the memory of that embarrassing blunder still haunted her. Chet knew the truth though, his sewn on eyes glaring at her with projected judgment. Somehow, he always knew what she was thinking.

Looking away from his gaze, Talwyn turned her attention over to the large pile of holo-disks that sat on the far side of the room. These represented the ones she’d already gone through.

“Still no results of adequate quality to present to my furry waifu,” she said somberly to her recorder, unfazed by her own wording. Then she glanced over at the much larger pile of untouched holo-disks, “But hope still remains,” she continued, knowing that there was still much to go through.

In truth, she had actually found several records referring to an ‘Azimuth Family’. Apparently, Alister’s relatives had owned a fairly large trillium mining company. The information was interesting, but she had decided that it wasn’t something she wanted to show to Ratchet.

She’d known from the start that anything she learned about the four-bolt Magister, Alister Azimuth, would be a double-edged sword. She was sure that Ratchet would desperately want to know more about the man and his father’s close friend, but it was just as likely to remind him of Alister’s death. If possible, she wanted to bring something about Kaden first and then ‘maybe’ present things about Azimuth only after his heart had healed a bit.

“Good tidings of the world beyond the study came today,” Talwyn declared, sounding more cheerful now in an attempt to distract herself from the dreary thoughts. “Ratchet and the boys have been reported as returning safely to galactic starspace. I find it odd that I haven’t received word from them directly yet, but apparently they showed up in the middle of a highly populated area flying a massive, weaponized drone. Knowing Ratchet, I can trust that the reports are true. My faith in Ratchet, Clank, Cronk, and Zephyr has never wavered once in this past month, but it is still good to know that everyone I care about is safe and sound. Also, it seems that Qwark survived. However, this means that my time runs short as I’m sure the boys will be returning once things have settled back down. I fear I may not have anything to show for my efforts by that time. This is Talwyn Apogee, signing off.”

The ‘slightly’ stir-crazed Markazian then deactivated her small recording device. There was no more room on the cluttered coffee table nearby, so she simply tossed it onto a pile of clothes that lay on the floor next to the couch she’d been sleeping on… as well as eating on, watching her father’s recordings on, and generally not moving from if at all possible.

The holo-screen projector in front of it was still tuned to the morning galactic news, but had been muted so that she could make her ‘report’.

Now, that her daily dose of nonsense out of the way, Talwyn let out a long groan and fell back into her blankets and pillow. She was torn. Hearing that everyone was safe had been great news, but it only reminded her that after nearly a month of digging, she’d found nothing about Ratchet’s father and she was nearing her breaking point.

Her own father, brilliant in his own right, was no scientist. No matter how focused his research was on Lombax technology and science, he always ended up rambling about cultural significances or military histories. Barely anything specific about the science or the scientists themselves.

Talwyn didn’t blame him for this though. Everything he had to say was still fascinating and, in truth, she was glad for the perspective. Many of the stories that the holographic Max Apogee had detailed were similar to the ones the real one had told her as a child, but only now could she fully appreciate them.

She’d found many holo-disks with information about battles and aid missions that the Lombaxes were famous for, several other disks were about how a large percentage of Polaris’ modern-day gadgets and devices were either based on, or directly copied from lombax technology, and she was reminded again and again of how Lombaxes were famous for their ingenuity, if not for their practicality.

Still though, none of it was what she was looking for, and while she was sure Ratchet would find it all even more interesting than she did, it wasn’t what mattered most to him.

She sighed into her pillow again at her lack of results. After a moment, however, she looked up and studied the stuffed teddy bax a short distance away. She made note yet again of how much it reminded her of Ratchet. Not because it really looked like him, but because it was cute and soft and she desperately wanted to snuggle it tightly forever.

Talwyn’s expression became more serious as she remembered her resolve, “You’re right, Chet,” she agreed, imaging that the small toy’s unblinking expression was encouraging her not to give up. “If my time is short, that’s all the more reason not to be moping about and wasting it!”

Quickly, and with new life, the young Markazian sat up on the couch/bed and resolutely pulled the warm embrace of the blanket off of her. Still in her nightgown, which consisted of one large, green Q-force T-shirt and a single pair of black panties, she stepped out of bed with determination... and immediately felt the freezing touch of the cold, metallic floor bite into her bare feet.

She let out a squeak of surprise, before reflexively pulling her legs back into the inviting safety of her covers.

Talwyn glared at the hated floor, always forgetting about the lack of carpeting in this section of the station. Her father had put down several throw rugs in the study, but they had been rotten and falling apart by the time she’d discovered them.

‘Maybe, time isn’t ‘that’ short,’ she thought to herself, before letting out another sigh.

The tired Markazian then shook her head as her blaze of motivation quickly fizzled to a simmer. Remembering how sleepy she was, she yawned deeply and took her time to stretch the stiffness out of her limbs, slowly allowing herself to wake up completely in the soft glow of the starlit-study.

Rubbing sleep from her eyes, Talwyn reached over the edge of her couch and began to feel around for a fresh set of clothes, but her searching hand found nothing.

Squinting through heavy eyelids, Talwyn glanced down at the bare spot on the floor and frowned, suddenly remembering her failed attempts to retrieve a fresh stack of shirts from her room.

Well, she used the phrase ‘failed attempts’ in her head, but each time she’d really just stared at the doorway to the study, then to the cold floor, and had eventually given up before even getting off of the couch.

There were no pants around either, but that wasn’t a problem. The young Markazain had abandoned pants fairly quickly into her expedition. Once she’d started spending all her time on the couch, watching old holo-recordings, her legs rarely left the comfort of her blankets. The laundry room was clear on the other side of the space station and the brilliant idea, in her mind at least, to abandon unnecessary clothing had resulted in her halving the number of trips she’d had to make to wash and transport everything.

Turning her frowning expression down to her chest, she regarded what she was wearing now. Seemingly the only good thing about being associated with the famed ‘Captain Qwark’ was the unending supply of free t-shirts he constantly gave out. Probably how he won the election.

While she’d never wear the large, lightning-bolt ‘Q’ that was associated with her moron of a Galactic President in public, the oversized and surprisingly comfortable shirt made perfect sleepwear.

Talwyn shrugged dismissively, it wasn’t like there was anyone here to see her wear it.

She then ran a hand through her tangled and unwashed hair and sighed.

There was a washroom down on this level and it had a shower, but if she didn’t have any more clean clothes, what good was a shower doing her at this point? Luckily, there was nobody else on the station.

Mostly awake now, Talwyn decided to get to work.

She avoided the floor by sliding along the couch until she reached the other end. There, she pulled a plastic-wrapped plate from the nearby table. Her unfinished dinner of pepperoni and acid-eel pizza would now become her breakfast of champions.

As she nibbled absently on a slice, the young and disheveled Markazian half-yawned, half-rasped out the words, “Play next,” to the holo-projector on the far side of the room.

Obediently, the device recognized the voice command (though barely) and switched from holo-vision mode, to direct input. Simultaneously it removed the disk in its main port and replaced it with the next one in its magazine. A few seconds later, a life-sized version of Maxwell Apogee appeared in the middle of the study.

“Based on the various data recordings I’ve collected from the remains of Fastoon, I’ve been able to learn much about the genetic and cultural significance of various fur colors among lombax society,” Max Apogee began, as if speaking to a class on lombaxology.

The slight heartache Talwyn had felt upon seeing her father in holographic form had numbed considerably, to the point where she quickly forgot about it, but, even after so many days, it was not gone completely. Still nibbling her cold pizza in one hand, Talwyn reached over and snagged Chet from where he was sitting, before pulling him close and snuggling back into her blanket with him.

“Recently, however,” the holographic Markazian continued, “I came upon some new references to a very obscure sub-culture of the race; one that had apparently not been discovered by the primary inhabitants of Fastoon until the Great War. Not only that, but the truth of this discovery had been concealed from the general Lombax population all the way into the Modern age!”

Talwyn raised an eyebrow. The information sounded interesting, but she doubted it was what she was looking for. Kaden wasn’t a bioscientist after all. Still, this was the last holo-disk in the projector’s magazine, so she decided to give it some more time… before she had to get up and refill it.

“Believed to have evolved on a large island near one of Fastoon’s arctic regions, this society of Lombaxes was said to be the only sub-group to develop a full coat of naturally occurring red fur and were so rare that they were a legend even among the Lombax people themselves.”

The Apogee hologram paused for a moment and Talwyn recognized the look on her father’s face as the one he wore when he was debating ‘if’ he should say something, rather than how he wanted to say it.

Then he seemed to come to a conclusion and nodded, “Because of how little information there is about them, I hesitate to even bring them up in a serious academic report such as this. However, while any detailed information I’ve come across previously about this group is highly suspect, little more than rumors or hearsay, I have always had it on a highly reliable source that they ‘did’, in fact, exist at the very least.”

Max Apogee’s voice then got low and his holographic form leaned forward, as if trying to whisper a secret he was giddily dying to tell everyone. “Recently, I found a journal, written by one of the most renowned Lombax scientists on Fastoon!”

Talwyn sat up a little, this time she was extremely curious. ‘Lombax scientist’, those were the golden words! Still, she remained cautious, knowing that this scientist was likely a specialist in Lombax biology.

“But first,” Max Apogee continued, before standing up straight again, “let me tell you about the incredible journey that led to its discovery!”

“No! Daaaaaad...” Talwyn groaned as she tossed an unused bra at his incorporeal form. The soft piece of cloth shimmered with projected light as it went right through him.

“Deep underground, in the ruins of Fastoon,” the hologram continued, unaware of its audience’s displeasure. “there was a massive science bunker for the Division of Advanced Lombax Research. It took me many tries to get in and I was quickly reminded of how the inventiveness of a Lombax defense system in many ways outclassed their prowess for combat. The defenses were less deadly, mainly meant to capture and not kill, but I’d rather face a blaster on the battlefield over some of the wicked contraptions they come up with. For instance, while just trying to find my way into this bunker I got lost in a maze. Now, in my experience, mazes are usually pretty simple, you just put your hand on a wall and keep walking until you find an exit... Well, at some point in this maze a gravity generator activates, causing you to walk up the walls without realizing it. I wandered that maze for 3 days and wore through two pairs of gloves searching for the exit. I would have died too, if I hadn’t fallen over from exhaustion and happened to see the exit below me, high above my head!”

Max Apogee became lost in his ruminations of what was without a doubt an amazing journey, but Talwyn had no time for it at the moment. Having known that her father’s ‘epic tales’ often rambled longer than the actual informative bits that would come after, she cleared her throat.

“Cycle skip, five-minute intervals, five-second delay,” she ordered.

The holoprojector recognized the order and began making jumps through the holo-recording at intermediate intervals.

“Well it was about that time when I had realized the correct answer was the left stone…….after I finished eating it, I experienced the most unbearable case of dia…… so I began to chisel away at it until I realized that it was breathing!….. and that was the third time I had lost my underwear….. purple blisters all along my foot, but the pus was actually the color of…. I looked everywhere, but I had no idea where the toe was….. makes this the second most credible source on Red Lombaxes, right after Kaden himself.….”

Talwyn choked on her pizza as she heard the name, the glazed expression she’d been wearing suddenly shattering as she sat bolt upright. The surprised Markazian tried to order a stop command, but her airways were blocked and she hacked violently to try and remove it.

“S-stop!” she finally gasped, not sure if the projector would recognize the strained order.

But the device did and the holographic Max Apogee suddenly stood still, frozen mid-sentence.

Talwyn quickly fought the last bits of food from her windpipe and ordered the projector to rewind the recording to the point just before she’d heard the name.

The image of Max Apogee reformed and he began to speak again, “The journal belonged to none other than the famed bioscientist Lorna Cross!” the hologram said excitedly. “Within its data archives were many things, but within them was the only comprehensive biological study on Red Lombaxes that I have ever found! Dr. Cross’ name makes this the second most credible source on Red Lombaxes, right after Kaden himself.”

Talwyn fought hard to keep herself from a repeat performance, as she almost choked on saliva alone. This proved easier now that her mouth was going dry. She leaned forward intently and held her breath in anticipation.

“Ah, now that’s a name that takes me back,” the holographic Markazian noted pensively. “I was rather young, believe it or not, when I first met Kaden, before the rise of Tachyon, of course. I was still a relatively unknown adventurer back then, just starting my research on the Fongoids and their strange Zoni gods… but that’s a story for another holo-disk. Part of my very first Fongoid research series, I believe… availablewhereverApogeeEnterprisesholo-diskseriesaresold.”

Talwyn gawked at her pixel-bodied father, “You ‘knew’ Kaden, personally?” she shouted in demand of the hologram, as if she expected an answer. Her mind reeled at the implications what she’d just heard.

“I was also surprised to find a lot of research notes made in preparation for an expedition to the Bogon Galaxy. It makes me wonder if Dr. Cross might have-”

“Stop,” Talwyn ordered, not even looking at her father anymore.

Max Apogee froze again as a huge, excited grin split across his daughter’s face. Her eyes were wide as she stared out the study’s entrance and into the hall where she’d moved all the Fongoid related research.

Even as she cautioned herself that there was no guarantee that this ‘Kaden’ was Ratchet’s father, it didn’t slow her heart rate a single beat. At last, she had her breakthrough!

Unable to contain her excitement, the young Markazian threw off her blanket and quickly ran out into the hallway in search of the mentioned research…

Several seconds later she came running back, jumping from foot to foot while sucking in air between her teeth.

She jumped back into the protection of her bed and couch with a long, “Ahhhhhh.”

“Make a note, Chet,” Talwyn hissed, as she held her half-frozen feet in her warm hands, “First, find socks… then find Dad’s research.”

Chapter Text

Talwyn sat on her couch, her eyes heavy and her outfit the same as it had been two days ago. The one exception being the addition of her favorite pair of black, knee-high socks with a smiling, Lombax-shaped face sewn into the elastic at either knee. The set of footwear had protected her feet from the floor’s cold touch as she had frantically searched for the specific records her father had mentioned.

Now she subconsciously curled her toes in their soft embrace, taking comfort in their warmth as she continued reading what she’d uncovered.

After learning that what she'd sought all this time could be in the Zoni research piles that she’d already removed from the study, Talwyn had turned the whole area upside down again looking for it, literally.

Too desperate to worry about the strain it might cause on the generator, the young Markazian had changed the gravity of the area again, this time deactivating it only in the hallway.

She’d already needed to restart the device twice now and it was only a matter of time before it died completely. Frankly, she was surprised she was even still sitting down.

It had been worth it though, as the weightlessness and three-dimensional movement had allowed her to quickly find the data-disk series that she was after.

The set she'd found was unlike the others she’d been watching up until now. The material was some of her father’s earlier work and was mostly written documentation meant for scholarly review, rather than a pre-recorded lecture.

Most of the writing was dry and focused solely on the Fongoid research he had been doing at the time. Only briefly did he make mention of working with a Lombax scientist.

While this was still something, the true discovery came when Talwyn had been lucky enough to find the raw notes from her father’s expedition alongside the final drafts of the series.

These notes were Max Apogee’s personal recordings. In them, the Markazian explorer described his working alongside the Lombax scientist named Kaden with all the excitement and lack of professionalism that Talwyn had come to expect from her father. But more importantly, these notes were very personal and ‘very’ detailed.

Talwyn had barely slept as she read through the journal entries with utter fascination as each new entry was filled with a first hand account of Ratchet’s father!

She analyzed every sentence and bookmarked every mention of Kaden, even before she was sure that this ‘Kaden’ actually ‘was’ Ratchet’s father.

Talwyn didn’t know how common the name was among Lombaxes. Sure he’d learned it from Alister, she once again wondered why Ratchet had never mentioned his father’s, and subsequently his own, last name.

She had always just assumed that there was an emotional reason behind it, that it hurt him to think about the family name he never got to have, so she hadn’t pushed the subject... but it definitely made verifying this ‘Kaden’s’ identity a real pain.

It had taken her nearly a full day of frantic searching before she’d even been sure, but, with just a simple, off-hand comment, recorded in the journal without much note, she had found her proof. It came in the form of her Max Apogee briefly recounting Kaden’s mention of a close friend named Alister Azimuth, who was a General in the Lombax Praetorian Guard.

While it might have been possible that the general Alister Azimuth had two brilliant scientist friends named Kaden, this was probably the best proof she could get and it was more than enough for her.

From what she could gather from the notes, the story went like this: her father had been exploring the ruins of an old, abandoned Fongoid city when a lone Lombax had shown up and appeared to also be investigating the ruins.

The Markazian explorer had been timid at first, but Kaden eventually approached him and it turned out that he’d actually heard the name Apogee before. This encouraged her father to talk more openly with this member of the galaxy’s most powerful race and soon, the two of them were working together to archive and study the Fongoid ruins, though Kaden had seemed mostly interested in the Zoni and kept bringing up some reference to a ‘clock’ of some sort.

Talwyn had briefly wondered if this was a reference to The Great Clock, but she was too busy bookmarking all the parts of her father’s journal that talked about Kaden directly to think about it too deeply.

With every entry she reviewed and earmarked, the young Markazian could feel her excitement rising. The journal portrayed Kaden as brilliant scientist and researcher with a slightly twisted sense of humor, but who could also tell a clever joke so dryly that her father would often miss it and have to have it explained to him.

The two only worked together for a short time before Kaden had to leave on important business, so the notes were short, but they offered an unprecedented glimpse of the father that Ratchet never knew, one only rivaled by what Alister might have offered.

Talwyn was so absorbed in reading her father’s notes, with the fantasy of Ratchet’s reaction when she showed him the journal, that she didn’t even notice the holographic ‘new message’ icon floating above her communicator until she had nearly gone through them all.

With slight yawn, the young Markazian reached over and plucked the device from where it sat, half-hidden underneath a pillow.

She checked the message and found that it was from Cronk.

‘About time,’ Talwyn thought, wondering what kind of after-adventure festivities and celebrations that had been too important to bother contacting her until now.

The message was brief, simply stating that they were all safe and on their way home, that they would debrief her on the details when they got back to the station.

Oddly enough, Cronk hadn’t specified an ETA, which was unusual for him. Still, it took about a day or two to reach the station from Igliak, so she still had time to clean up before then.

Looking around the room, she realized, for the first time, that a good cleaning was desperately needed.

With a groan, the tired Markazin slowly got to her feet, feeling the soreness of a body that had been sitting for days on end, but noting with satisfaction that she barely felt the floor’s cold sting through her beloved socks.

However, as she walked out of the study and began heading towards her quarters, that same floor suddenly seemed to fall away.

Talwyn immediately recognized the phenomenon as the gravity having disappeared as all was rendered weightless again.

“Oh great!” she exclaimed aloud in frustration. “Now I have to fix the gravity generator too!”

Hopefully she would just have to restart the device like the last two times, but she feared that finicky generator might have finally given out on her.

Talwyn wasn’t bad with machines, but she was also no expert. She might have to pull an old, temporary backup from storage before the boys returned.

As she bounced and floated her way down the corridors and towards the generator room an idea came to her.

‘I wonder if I could get Ratchet to come out and fix the generator for me?’ she thought. ‘ He is an amazing mechanic, well except for whenever he tries to ‘improve’ things, and I don’t mind having a reason to get him out here. Then I could show him what I’ve been working on. ’

As nice as the idea was, though, she quickly decided that, with the state of the station and herself, she would need the generator online to clean up. While it was fun to try, it wasn’t very efficient to shower in zero-G, but smiled to herself at the thought all the same.

‘Besides,’ she concluded, ‘ the last thing I want is Ratchet to see me looking like-’

“Hey, Clank. Hand me that Multi-mag drill would ya?”

Talwyn froze... well stopped moving at least. In actuality, she continued to float, like a stone statue, through the air. Her ears straining, as she forgot to arrest her speed and banged her head into the ceiling.

‘ I know that voice! ’ she thought, not even registering the pain in her head. ‘ But it couldn’t be! Why would ‘he’ be here? Why now? ’

“I do not believe that such a large amount of force is necessary, Ratchet,” said another, equally familiar voice. “You could possibly strip the sealer screw if you are not careful.”

“It’ll be fine pal, I’ve taken this thing apart for Talwyn twice already!” The first voice said confidently. “Ever since she blasted it with that cannon.”

“True, but, if I recall correctly, wasn’t the second time because you stripped a sealer screw on the consistency coil connection the ‘first’ time you ‘fixed’ it?  Then, when you restarted the device, the gravity increased to three times that of what you set it to?”

There was a short silence after that.

“Huh, I don’t ‘remember’ that happening,” came the first voice casually.

“No? Well I have the audio recording of you landing on your tail with three G’s of force... if you’d like to hear it?” offered the second voice.

“Uhhhhh… no, that… that’s alright,” refused the first voice nervously. “But hey, could you hand me the Multi-mag ‘wrench’, please?”

“Certainly, Ratchet. Here you go,” said the second voice, sounding pleased with themselves.

Talwyn barely registered the words themselves as they echoed down the hall towards her. Her mind was too busy fighting to process what was happening.

Her first thoughts had been of disbelief, sure that that there was no way Ratchet and Clank were in her generator room right now!

Soon, though, she realized that those voices were unmistakable. At this revelation, her thoughts quickly became ones of excitement. Ratchet was here, in her home, with her, and that was ‘always’ a good thing.

Reflexively, she braced her legs and prepared to push off from the ceiling and make a beeline for the two voices. She hadn’t seen either in months and was eager for the reunion.

As she bent down to launch herself, however, she noticed an odd smell.

Still crouching, she looked around, searching for the source of the foul odor.

Then, to her horror, she realized that it was coming from her!

All at once the young Markazian suddenly remembered the month of obsessive searching, the weeks of slovely cloth-optional living, and the days of unhygienic study of her father’s journal.

As quickly as it had come, the excitement of having Ratchet and Clank here and now suddenly turned to abject dread.

She was a mess, her home was a mess, and the one person in the galaxy that she absolutely did not want to bear witness to this horrible state was working just down the hall from her.

Immediately, Talwyn turned in a panic and pushed off from the ceiling, sending herself sailing away as fast as she could in the opposite direction of the generator room.

“That’s it! She’s done,” came a victorious declaration from behind Talwyn. “Start ‘er up, pal.”

The young Markazian realized too late that she’d set her trajectory at an almost straight line in her attempt to get away as quickly as possible. A direct shot to the other end of the corridor would make her move down it faster, but until she reached the end, she would not be able to touch any of the walls to slow or stop herself.

There was a loud hum that echoed throughout the hall and suddenly, Talwyn had weight again.

She didn’t fall right away, as the gravity generator was set to turn on with a slow, constant increase, so that anyone or anything caught in free float could safely land.

Talwyn was moving too fast as she descended, however, and was forced to hit the floor at an angle, sending her rolling head over tail towards the end of the corridor.

“Did you hear that, Clank?” came a very familiar and, in Talwyn’s mind, terrifying voice from just around the corner.

The disoriented Markazian scrambled to her feet and ducked into the nearest utility closet. There, she remained perfectly still, barely daring to breathe.

Outside the door she could hear footsteps coming towards her before stopping.

“There’s nothing here,” she heard Ratchet’s voice say suspiciously.

“Perhaps it was just something falling into place once gravity had been restored,” offered Clank’s voice.

“Maybe,” said Ratchet, not sounding sure. “But wait… There’s... something.”

Talwyn’s could feel her heart sink as she heard what sounded like someone sniffing deeply.

“There’s a strange... smell,” noted Ratchet’s voice curiously.

“Perhaps Miss Apogee is in the vicinity? Cronk and Zephyr said she might be in this section of the station,” Clank suggested, with his usual spot-on analysis.

Ratchet shook his head, “No, Talwyn’s scent is different, like fruits and flowers. This one smells…” Ratchet sniffed again. “I don’t really know how to describe it.”

Talwyn swallowed hard. She had been lucky to be wearing her favorite body wash when she’d first met Ratchet and, knowing that Lombaxes had powerful noses, she’d always made sure to use a particularly powerful deodorant ever since then. With any luck, she’d make sure that he never know what her B.O. smelled like.

“Cronk! Zephyr! Talwyn! Are you there?” Ratchet called out, hearing his words echoed back at him, but nothing else.

After a moment, the concerned Lombax shook his head, “I don’t like it, Clank, if it was one of them, they would have answered. Something else is down here. I can feel it.”

“You... don’t believe that an intruder is on the station, do you?” inquired Clank, with concern.

“Don’t know, pal, but it wouldn’t hurt to check it out. Come on.”

The sound of footsteps approaching resumed and Talwyn’s heart stopped again.

She was lucky that she’d made most of her way through the corridor in zero-G, as her scent hadn’t been left behind as prominently, but she knew that Ratchet would sniff her out in this closet the second he got close to it.

“Wait,” came Clank’s cautioned tone, causing his sentient, bipedal transport to stop again. “If there really is an intruder, we should not investigate it alone. At the very least, we need to warn Cronk, Zephyr, and Miss Apogee of the danger that may be present.”

Ratchet eyed the distant corridor, barely hearing Clank’s words. Something about this whole thing had his fur on edge and he desperately wanted to investigate, but not just for a safety reason.

The smell was light, but somehow it filled his nostrils with something that bordered on familiarity as well as danger. It was like the strange scent was pulling him towards it.

“Ratchet?” Clank intoned, noting with familiarity the increased heart rate and tension of his companion’s back.

“Y-yeah, bud… It’s fine… Let’s go.”

And with that, Ratchet’s echoing footsteps trailed off back the way he’d come as he headed for the upper levels.

Once she could no longer hear his footsteps, and even some time after that, Talwyn finally let out the huge breath of relief that she’d been holding in, gulping down air greedily as he lungs inflated for the first time in what felt like ages.

She was in the clear for now, but that wouldn’t last long. She needed to get back to her room, to her clean clothes, and to a shower, before Ratchet or anyone found her.

Determined not to be found in this state, the unkempt Markazian got up from her hiding closet and began running down the corridor in the opposite direction of Ratchet and Clank.

Artwork commission beautifully done by Farorest on DeviantArt:

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Chapter Text

Talwyn slowly climbed the maintenance tunnel that led to the main level of the station. The fit was tight and the metal rungs of the ladder dug into feet, but she made good time as she pushed open the heavy metal hatch.

The feeling of freedom she’d had for the past month, the sensation of being able to walk all over the station in her underwear, was completely gone now. In its place, she felt naked (half-true), ashamed, and terrified that someone could be waiting around every corner.

She needed to get to her room and she needed to get there fast. She had considered going back to her father’s study and collecting at least a pair of pants, or using the shower down there, but it was only a matter of time before Ratchet realized she wasn’t on the main level and came looking for her down there.

The thought of him finding that mess made her sick. Her only hope was to get to her bedroom, get fresh clothes, and pretend that she was just sleeping in her room this whole time.

She was in luck, however, as the route she had chosen was actually even more efficient than the one Ratchet was likely taking up to the main level. The station was her home turf, so she knew she could take a shortcut through the station’s arboretum. It was a shorter walk and she was sure she wouldn't run into anyone else there.

Quietly, she closed the maintenance hatch behind her and with as much stealth as possible, she swiftly covered the length of the halls that lead towards the main-biochamber. There she found the doorway to the garden and activated the panel next to it, causing the large metal doors to part for her.

Talwyn was too busy looking over her shoulder to see what was waiting on the other side of the entrance. She nearly jumped out of what few clothes she had on when the cold spray of water misted her skin.

The now damp Markazian spun around and looked out into the artificial rainstorm that now blocked her path, “Oh come on!” shouted in frustration.

Of course, it figured that ‘now’ would be the exact time the thirty-minute watering cycle just happened to be active.

‘Was it because I wished for a shower?’ she asked, offering the question up to whatever supernatural being was playing this cruel joke on her.

Talwyn turned around again and glanced down the side hallway.

She was considering her other options when she heard the sound of metallic footsteps ringing down the main corridor.

Talwyn’s eyes opened wide, ‘There’s no way Ratchet could have circled all the way around here by now!’ she thought to herself, but the footsteps only got louder as the seconds passed and were undeniable.

Without time to really think, the desperate Markazian rushed out into the squall, waving her hand over the door panel to shut it behind her.

Drenched to the bone in seconds she blinked water from her eyes as she searched around for a place to hide, eventually finding cover in a bush that was a short distance away.

Just as Talwyn ducked down into her hiding place, the door to the nursery slid open once more and light flooded out onto the darkness, illuminating the rain-veiled grass and shrubbery.

Covered in sweat, water, mud, and various plant material, the poor Markazian waited without making a sound, watching through bush leaves as two figures stood forebodingly in the doorway to the arboretum.

“I know I heard someone shouting a second ago,” came Cronk’s voice from over the sound of falling raindrops.

“Ah, you’re just hearing things again, you old windup toy,” came Zephyr’s  reply. “You need to get your audio relays checked.”

“Eh-hem,” countered Cronk indignantly. “I’ll have you know that I ‘just’ had my sonic frequency analyzers re-calibrated before we left Meridian city. Right now I can hear a pin dropping on the other side of the galaxy, and I ‘know’ I heard someone shout.”

“Oh, is that so, ‘Superbot’? Well, the only thing I can hear is the sound of you yappin’, and there ain’t a single thing here to make a squeak, so where is the source of this noise, hmm?”

“Ehhh… maybe they ran out into the arboretum?” Cronk offered, though he sounded unsure.

Both robots then turned to stare out into the torrents of water, eyeing the downpour with trepidation.

“Well then, you better go find them,” Zephyr said flatly.

“I ain’t going in there,” Cronk refused. “I have enough rusty joints as it is.”

“It was you what heard the noise… ifn’ you’re so sure someone’s out there, then prove it!”

As the two warbots continued to argue, Talwyn finally realized that it was just the two of them that happened to be nearby and come to investigate.

In an instant, she felt her heart relax and her anxiety dissipate. She was fine with Cronk and Zephyr seeing her a mess. She had grown up with them and, while still embarrassing, this was hardly the worst she’d ever looked to them.

Talwyn made a move to go to them, but before she left her cover, she paused to consider how was she going to explain her situation. While she didn’t mind them seeing her appearance, she knew that they’d never let her live down the embarrassment of sneaking around her own home and hiding in some muddy bush, all so that Ratchet wouldn’t see her half-dressed and unwashed.

Before she could reach a decision, however, a new voice joined that of her two warbot guardians.

“There you two are!” came the very last voice that Talwyn wanted to hear at that moment. “What’d you find?”

“Nothing!” answer Zephyr immediately, an air of annoyance in his tone. “This taped-together pile of spare parts thought he heard a noise and so we came running, but there’s nothing here.”

Cronk was about to retort again, when Ratchet interrupted, “Alright guys, let’s stay focused here,” he said, not really trusting the old warbot’s hearing either, but concerned all the same. “Have either of you two found Talwyn yet?”

Zephyr shrugged, “I haven’t seen any trace of her, Rook. She’s not in her room, but her ship was in the docking garage when we arrived. She never replied to Cronk’s message either,” he added, with a little concern himself.

“Do you still believe that there is an intruder on the station, Ratchet?” inquired Clank from the Lombax’s back.

“An intruder!” repeated Cronk in a panic. “What if they got to Miss Talwyn! Oh, I’ll never forgive you guys if anything happens to her.”

Zephyr eyed his comrade, “The saying is: I’ll never forgive ‘myself’, Cronk!” he pointed out with irritation.

But Cronk looked indignant, “Me? I was off fighting a Loki on the other side of the galaxy. How was I supposed to do anything to protect Miss Talwyn?!”

“Ya darn fool!” Zephyr shouted back. “We were ‘all’ there with you!”

The blue painted warbot eyed his companion for a minute as he scratched his metallic head, “Eh... are you sure?”

This time it was Zephyr who had opened his mouth to retort when Ratchet interrupted, “Guys!” the tan Lombax barked authoritatively. “Again... focus! It’s possible that the Apogee Station was infiltrated, but I don’t think that’s the case just yet. None of the defenses have been triggered, nothing seems to be stolen or ransacked, and we all known Talwyn wouldn’t have gone down without a fight. She'd have taken half the station with her.”

‘Aww, he says the sweetest things,’ Talwyn thought as she eyed the silhouette of fluffy ears and curling tail in the distance. ‘Wait, no! Stay focused girl! You need to get out of this mess before they find you!’

“Speaking from experience there, Rook?” intoned Zephyr, half-joking, half-judging.

Ratchet ignored the jab, “Alright, you two finish sweeping the main level, me and Clank will…”

But Ratchet trailed off, his face suddenly becoming pensive.

Zephyr eyed his expression, “What is it, Rook?” he asked curiously.

Ratchet turned his head this way and that, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air, “Do you guys smell that?” he asked, too focused on the task at hand to realize that all three of his companions were robots.

The scent was being covered up by the smell of plantlife wafting in from the arboretum and he’d been too busy dealing with Cronk and Zephyr’s nonsense to notice it at first, but he could definitely detect the faint odor, exactly like what he’d sniffed out on the lower levels.

“Ratchet?” Clank pressed, knowing that his furry companion was onto something.

But the tan Lombax wasn’t listening.

Ratchet moved slowly back down the hallway, following the scent for a short bit, before realizing that there was no smell of dirt or grass mixed in any further down. This meant that whoever, or whatever, had come through here had gone ‘into’ the arboretum, not out of it.

Ratchet walked back to the door and stood on the precipice of the biodome, heedless of the water that soaked into his clothes and fur, even as he slowly stepped into the downpour.

As he sniffed the air searchingly, a slight breeze caused by the artificial environmental systems brought to him a strong whiff of the scent.

“It’s in here,” Ratchet declared confidentiality, his eyes scanning the darkness with great intensity.

From her hiding place behind the bush, Talwyn could almost see the brilliant green eyes shining through rain and leaves as they swept over her. For an instant, she thought they’d come to a stop and lock with hers, before moving on again.

The young Markazian held her breath and prayed that her rapid heartbeat couldn’t be heard over the rain as she fought down her panic and considered her options.

She needed to get away, but the second she left cover, Ratchet would find her. If she stayed put, her beloved Lombax and his accursed nose would sniff her out in moments. She needed to avert their attention somehow, especially Ratchet’s. She needed a distraction.

With a heavy heart, Talwyn made a tough decision and carefully slid one of her favorite socks off of her leg. Silently, she located a palm-sized stone in the mud and dropped it into the long tube of fabric.

Holding the other end, she began to spin it in her hand.

Careful not to go too quickly, or to touch anything else that might make a sound, she got the impromptu sling up to a decent speed, before launching it out into the darkness of the arboretum.

Several seconds later, she heard the gratifying splash of her well-aimed projectile striking the unseen pond at the center of the biodome.

“Ah-Ha!” yelled Cronk with vindication. “I knew it! There ‘is’ someone here. Let’s go get’em!”

“Right behind ya,” chimed Zephyr, gung-ho in an instant, and together the two of them dashed headlong into the watery veil, weapons raised as they shouted their warcry of “Ahhhhhhhh!!!!”

Ratchet was caught off guard by both the sound of the splash and the sudden charge of his companions. He hesitated, still eyeing the area with suspicion, but eventually followed after them at a quick, but measured pace. His large green eyes and cat-like ears still tuned to every sight and sound in the arboretum as he searched for his quarry.

When the tan Lombax finally passed, however, Talwyn didn’t even bother to let out a sigh of relief.

Instead, with all the skills of a Markazian ninja, she strode over the soft ground as fast as her sinking feet would allow, until she reached the still open doorway and exited back out into the now empty corridor.

Here, she finally allowed herself to breathe. She took a short moment to refill her lungs, before tearing off down the hall towards the living quarters, the sound of wet footsteps reverberating off the walls as she put everything she had into sprinting this last-leg of her escape.

She’d overheard Cronk and Zephyr saying that they’d checked her room already and that they knew she wasn’t there, so she decided to head for the master bedroom instead... her father's room.

Talwyn had a shower attached to her own room, but it wasn’t uncommon for her to use the larger shower or jacuzzi tub in the master bath. There would be towels in there that she could cover up with when she was done and with any luck, she would be able to convince everyone that she’d just been in there taking a nice, long, soak this whole time.

From a series of windows that looked out into the arboretum from the hallway, she could briefly make out the forms of Cronk and Zephyr by the pool edge, likely debating about who should go for a swim to see if someone had jumped in.

Her heart was pounding against her chest now. The adrenaline of nearly being caught, mixed with the excitement of being home free, was almost enough to overwhelm her. She kept herself under control by telling herself that escape was literally just around the corner and to stumble now would be a tragedy.

The sleeping quarters area was dark when Talwyn got there, but she didn’t dare turn on the lights, which wasn’t an issue for her, since she knew the space station like the back of her hand.

With practiced familiarity, the young Markazian made her way through the inky blackness and felt her way along the wall until she found the keypad to the main bedroom.

She let out a sigh of relief and relaxed a little as she keyed in the access code.

“You know, mud leaves a ‘very’ obvious trail of footprints,” came a heart-stoppingly familiar voice from out of the darkness.

Before Talwyn could say a word, she felt something small but very strong crash into her side, knocking the wind from her lungs and slamming her to the ground.

The besieged Markazian tried to escape, but powerful hands gripped her on the arm and around the waist and grappled her down.

“Clank, get the lights!” Ratchet shouted as he attempted to subdue the surprisingly slender intruder.

“I cannot, Ratchet!” Clank called back apologetically, his optical receptors set to low-light mode as he stared up at the light switch on the wall. “My vertical specifications will not allow me to access this panel.”

Ratchet didn’t respond, though, he only growled and grunted as his opponent attempted to push him off of them and get out of his grip. He took the wrists of their two hands and held them tight. His opponent didn’t seem to have any extra arms, fangs, or tentacles, but they were a bit taller than him. He was used to that, however, and so he pinned their arms to the ground and put his knee into what he hoped was their stomach.

The intruder continued to writhe beneath him, desperate to escape, but oddly not making as sound, though their efforts were futile.

With the aid of his heli-pack, Clank finally managed to jump high enough to activate the lights, while being careful not to cut a groove into the wall.

In an instant, the empty darkness evaporated and light filled every corner of the hall.

Talwyn looked up, finding exactly what she feared most: Ratchet’s face looking down at her in confusion. It was too late now, he could see everything. Exhaustion and utter shame washed over her and she stopped struggling.

It had taken a moment for the dumbfounded Lombax’s eyes to adjust to the light and then another moment for him to understand exactly what he was looking at. He was face-to-face with Talwyn, her expression blank and despondent, as he felt her body go limp beneath him in defeat.

Still confused, he looked her over, seeing her wet hair strewn messily over her face and the floor. She was breathing heavily from her exertions, her soaked T-shirt clinging tightly to her bare chest as it rose up and down in time with her deep, wheezing breaths.

Reflexively, Ratchet inhaled through his nose and was at once hit with both the power of Talwyn’s scent and the stunning realization that it was the same one he’d been tracking this whole time. The smell was so strong that it almost made him dizzy.

“T-Tal?” he asked dimly, his mind in a daze.

Talwyn felt her heart sink at the use of her name. It was over now, Ratchet could see the complete mess she was, even worse now that she’d mucked through the rainy arboretum.

The real soul-crusher, however, came from the way his nostrils were flared. She knew that he could smell her, the scent of several days’ worth of unwashed B.O., and from the stupefied look on his face, he was too horrified to believe it.

She felt cold. Not from the rain, but from the terrible feeling of Ratchet’s disgust. All the strength had left her body and she just lay there, unable to do or say anything.

But then she felt the grip on her wrists relax and, in an autonomic reflex that was somehow a mix of both flight ‘and’ fight, the pinned Markazian drove her forehead upward, headbutting the unsuspecting Lombax with all the force she could muster.

Ratchet’s head spun from the impact, stunning him long enough for Talwyn to throw him off of her.

By the time he could even see straight again, she had disappeared through the now open bedroom door and had slammed it shut with the control panel on the other side.

As Ratchet stared open-mouthed at the now sealed doorway, Clank walked up beside him.

His head equal in height to his companion’s sitting position, he tapped the tips of his fingers together awkwardly, “Oh dear… Ratchet, I believe we may have made a terrible mistake.”

Chapter Text

Talwyn stood unmoving under the torrent of liquid coming from the showerhead above. The water was warm and soothing, but she felt none of its pleasant effects as her mind focused only on the surprised and disgusted look she'd seen on Ratchet's face.

It had been worse than she'd feared.

Her shoulders slumped and she slowly tilted her head up to let the cleansing streams hit her in the face. She briefly considered just opening her mouth and drowning herself from sheer embarrassment. At least then she wouldn't have to face him once she finally left the shower.

Once again, the mental image of what she must have looked like when the lights had come on returned to the forefront of her thoughts and she felt her tail curl in shame.

For the third time since entering the shower, she reached over to pick up her sponge and began scrubbing her body with intense determination, as if she could wash away the grime of the past too.

She knew it was futile. Stalling that is. She couldn't stay in the shower forever and she would have to see Ratchet again eventually.

'Maybe he'll understand?' she thought with desperate hope. 'I mean, he's not exactly the cleanest creature in the galaxy.'

Talwyn smiled at the memories of Ratchet and Clank showing up or calling in while on an adventure, completely covered in muck and alien goo from fate knows where.

But the young Markazian's grin quickly reversed into a frown.

Who was she kidding, all those times had been a result of some extreme circumstances. What was her excuse now? That her pants had been too far away to use? That the floor was too cold to ever leave her couch? That she was too focused on her research to go take a shower for a week?!

"Uggggghhhh!" Talwyn groaned aloud, throwing her sponge on the wet shower floor and sending water droplets in all directions with the force of her frustration.

A series of knocks rang out from the other side of the massive bathroom, breaking the young Markazian from her lamentings.

Talwyn sighed, "I know I'm using up all the hot water, Zeph!" she shouted in reply. "But I assure you, I need 'all' of it."

Despite her argument, she heard the distant sound of the bathroom door opening.

She glanced to her side, at the large frosted glass door that separated the standing wash pod she was in from the rest of the bathroom and furrowed her brow. Zephyr wouldn't come in without lecturing her through the door first.

"I'm fine, Cronk. We'll talk about it later, I promise," she insisted.

'If you remember,' she added mentally, comforted by the knowledge that most awkward conversations with the surprisingly intuitive Cronk could be avoided altogether, so long as she put them off long enough.

Through the haze of steam, Talwyn noticed a shadow of a figure step up to the opaque glass door. It was shorter than her.

"It's, uh… It's me, Tal," Ratchet said awkwardly.

In an instant, Talwyn's numbed senses returned to her and she quickly threw her hands up to cover her private areas, despite knowing that nothing could be seen through the frosted glass from her side.

"R-R-Ratchet!" she stammered in disbelief. "What… What are you doing here?!"

There was a pause, "I, um… I brought you a fresh change of clothes. Well I mean Cronk did, er… Cronk gave them to me, to bring to you, but I… I 'brought' them."

There was another, longer pause where only the constant hiss of water spray made any noise.

Talwyn took a deep breath to calm her heart and tried to relax a little, "Thank you, Ratchet," she said eventually, forcing herself to sound composed. "You can leave them on the rack by the door."

Through the frosted glass, Talwyn saw Ratchet's outline nod, then reach over and place the clothes on the rack, but he didn't leave immediately afterward.

From the awkwardness in the air, Talwyn had expected her Lombax friend to turn tail and run the second his task was complete. 'She' certainly would have, if it didn't mean running past him stark naked.

In the quiet that followed, Ratchet could see nothing, but Talwyn was staring intently at his obscure form. As she watched, her tail instinctively slithered into her hand and she nervously laced the tip of it between her fingers. Her father had always told her that twiddling her tail was childish, but she still did it on occasion when she was nervous. She wondered what he was thinking about.

"Hey, Talwyn," the Lombax called out suddenly. His voice sounded serious and the outline of his ears drooped in a way that said he was upset about something.

A blast of ice shot through Talwyn's shower-warmed veins. Ratchet was rarely ever serious. The last time she'd seen that posture and heard that tone, he'd told her that he wanted to go home to Veldin so he could 'sort some things out'.

She gulped fearfully. Maybe this time he would tell her just how disgusted she made him, how he couldn't get her putrid stench out of his nose, and that he didn't want to see her again. Maybe he was leaving again… for good this time!

Talwyn held her breath, and when she didn't respond, Ratchet took a deep breath of his own.

"Tal, I'm… I'm really sorry I attacked you!"

Ratchet's apology was heavy with guilt and remorse. So much so that the young Markazian was caught off guard.

"W-what?"

Ratchet's outline lowered its head even further in shame, "I didn't know it was you! I thought… I thought there was an intruder, and it was dark, and your footprints were unnatural, so I just… Tal, I'm so sorry."

It took a moment, but eventually, the dumbfounded Markazian realized what he was talking about. She recalled how he'd tackled her outside in the hallway before the lights were on. She'd honestly forgotten everything that had happened up until the part of where Ratchet saw her.

"Oh… oh!" she intoned as comprehension struck her in full. "Oh no, I'm… I'm not mad about that!"

Even over the sound of the shower, Talwyn heard Ratchet gulp, "But… you weren't, uh… you weren't even properly… you know..."

The young Markazian saw Ratchet's outline motion over his chest and her face warmed to a temperature beyond what the shower was set to, "No! It's fine!" she assured him hastily, eager to change the subject, before reconsidering her words. "I mean, of course, I'd rather you… 'not' attack me... but 'I' was the one sneaking around like some kind of thief in my own house. It wasn't your fault."

There was another pause and then Talwyn heard Ratchet let out a huge breath as she saw his figure slump in relief, "Oh, that's good," he breathed as he sank to his knees.

After a moment, his shadow turned around and sat on the bathroom floor, putting his back to the frosted window, "I thought you were furious with me."

Talwyn blinked, "Really?" she asked, smiling despite herself. She hadn't been expecting Ratchet to be the one to end up apologizing for anything, "And why's that?"

Through the door, she could see Ratchet reach up and touch his slightly bruised eye, "Well... you seemed pretty mad at the time," he pointed out. His tone was almost humorous.

Talwyn instinctually reached up and touched the spot on her forehead where she'd headbutted Ratchet in her desperate attempt to escape. She'd been too numb with self-pity to notice it before and now she winced as she felt it throb for the first time.

"Oh that? That was because you surprised me," she explained, suddenly feeling embarrassed again. "I wasn't expecting you guys to be home so soon. If I'd known you were here, I never would have… have…"

'Dressed like a slob, forgone basic hygiene, or left the lower levels a mess,' she finished in her mind.

"Uh, yeah… about that," Ratchet interjected, his outline scratching the back of his head nervously.

Confident that she would have a heart attack at a very young age, Talwyn felt the organ in her chest skip a beat yet again. She was certain he was going to break the bad news to her this time and her grip on her tail tightened.

"It turns out that Cronk messed up the holo-message," he continued, once again sounding apologetic. "Apparently he found an entry field in the messenger program for a 'message delay function' that told him to enter what time he wanted the 'message' to arrive, but he misread it and put our ETA in there instead. That's why you only got the message today… when we arrived."

Ratchet's ears picked up the dull thud of something soft hitting the hard tile of the shower wall.

"Uh, Talwyn?" he asked in concern.

"Ugh! Why, Cronk?!" the tormented Markazian groaned into the wall in which her face was pressed firmly.

Despite himself, Ratchet couldn't help but smile a little at the reaction, "Yeah, Zeph was tearing into him pretty good about it too," he consoled, before working up his best Zephyr impression, "[You dang-gone fool! How can you not even know how to work a simple holo-message?! You're a robot for crying out loud!]"

To Ratchet's relief, he heard a slight chuckle from inside the shower, "That certainly sounds like Zephyr," Talwyn noted, feeling a little better knowing there was 'some' retribution for her unintended suffering at least.

Encouraged by the lightness of her tone, the tan-furred Lombax continued his retelling in the angry warbot's voice, "[Wait, don't tell me this is why we never got those tickets to see Lance and Janice live?! You said you ordered them the day they went on sale, but the day of the show we got a message saying they were all sold out. Blast it all! You put the date of the show in that stupid delay function too, didn't you?!]"

This time Ratchet was rewarded with a genuine laugh from Talwyn and he began to laugh too.

"He was even angrier then," the smiling Lombax pressed, "[How do you think Miss Talwyn feels? Getting caught with her pants down like that? Literally!]"

Talwyn's laughter died immediately and cold silence fell over the steamy bathroom, permeated only by the ever constant stream of shower water.

Ratchet winced as he realized his stupid mistake.

He opened his mouth to apologize, but somehow he felt that would only make things worse. He hesitated and the silence drug on until 'awkward' could barely describe it.

Slowly, Talwyn raised her head from the wall. Her cheeks were bright red with the pain of embarrassment, but she knew by now that the reality of what had happened wasn't going away, no matter how hard she tried.

The only thing she could do now was to try and move forward and hope that everyone can forget what they'd seen… or smelled.

Mechanically, she reached over and picked up a large, familiar plastic bottle that was full of orange-colored gel. This fruity-smelling body wash was a special blend with a particularly strong scent that she'd always liked.

Luckily for her, she'd just finished showering when Ratchet first showed up on her space station.

Knowing how sensitive a Lombax's nose was, Talwyn had been extra careful to use it regularly whenever she was going to be around him, before then using a Wargrok-strength roll-on deodorant to seal any remaining unpleasant whiffs that he might catch from her.

'So much for that,' she sighed as she thought about how all her hygienic vigilance was now wasted.

She shook her head and reminded herself again that she had to move past this 'incident' and squeezed out a glob of soap into her hand.

On the other side of the glass door, Ratchet was still debating about how to apologize, when he smelled the painfully fruity odor and recognized it immediately.

"Is that your usual soap?" he asked, forgetting the awkward silence instantly.

Talwyn hesitated, afraid of what this topic of conversation might lead to, "Uh, yeah… it is," she answered simply.

Ratchet wrinkled his nose at the stinging citrus stench, "It's because you always wear that stuff that I didn't realize that it was 'your' scent I was tracking earlier."

Tawlyn winced, "Ha, Y-yeah, that's 'kind of' the point," she replied, trying to sound amused at the question, despite feeling wretched.

Ratchet frowned. He had always known the fruity odor Talwyn reeked of was not her real scent, but he tightened his jaw to keep himself from speaking the words that were now on the tip of his tongue.

"Don't worry, though," she continued reassuringly, "I swear that this was just a one-time thing. I know Lombaxes have sensitive noses, so from now on I'll make sure that I'm… that 'this' doesn't happen again."

Ratchet's teeth clenched, but he failed to stop his impulse this time, "I… don't mind," he choked out, immediately hating himself for letting the words slip and hoping desperately that she hadn't heard him.

There was silence for a few seconds, then Ratchet heard the terrifying sound of bare feet walking over wet tile.

"What was that?" Talwyn's voice asked, sounding much closer than before.

Ratchet closed his eyes and cursed himself again. He knew that he should pretend he hadn't said anything before he told her something he'd regret, but his desire to answer was too strong, "I… I 'like' the way you smell… the 'real' you, I mean."

Before the words had even left his lips, the tan Lombax felt the burning heat of his own embarrassment under his skin. He was sure that his cheeks were probably glowing red, even through his fur, and he immediately put his hands up over his face while his ears drooped down as if they too were trying to hide him from view.

Ratchet knew what he sounded like. Very few races had an affinity for scents like Lombaxes did and very few others understood it. He'd always 'hated' the burning smell of citrus that Talwyn wore, but he never said anything for fear of what she would think about him.

But things were different now.

When he'd first whiffed the mysterious scent in the lower levels of the station, he hadn't known what to think. All he knew was that it stirred something deep inside him.

He'd assumed that it was just the smell of danger, and maybe that wasn't wrong, but when he'd realized that the scent had been Talwyn's… everything seemed to click.

Now he couldn't get it out of his head, neither the piercing smell of her 'real' scent, nor the image of her lightly dressed and soaking wet, her hair strewn wildly about her. Ratchet wanted to drown in that smell and the thought of it being hidden away again behind that putrid cloud of artificial fruit had simply been too much for the young Lombax to handle.

Now he waited fearfully for her response, regretting every word that had escaped his stupid mouth.

From the other side of the glass, Talwyn eyed Ratchet's curled form. He was hunched over to nearly half his normal size, practically balling up at the foot of the shower door with his ears drooping low.

The confused Markazian looked down at the bottle of body wash in her hand, 'Was he telling her not to wear this?' she asked herself, the idea inherently outrageous to her. She had spent so long lathering it onto her body for Ratchet's sake, that the thought of him disliking it all this time was hard to accept.

The silence sat in the air for a painfully long time. Too painful for the young Lombax.

Reaching his limit, Ratchet quickly got to his feet, "I just meant, don't worry about it! S-so much… It's not 'bad'."

Talwyn was still trying to wrap her head around what he was saying when she looked up at the glass and saw his vague outline shrink from the window.

"Well… I'll, uh… I'll let you get back to your shower."

Ratchet moved swiftly for the exit, desperate to get out of there before he buried himself any deeper.

"Ratchet, wait!"

The embarrassed Lombax froze with his hand on the bathroom entrance panel. He clenched his teeth as he braced himself for what was coming, before swallowing and calling back over his shoulder, "Yeah, Tal?"

Talwyn still didn't have everything straight in her head yet, but she knew what she needed to do.

She took a deep breath, "If… if you have a moment later, there's something I want to show you."

Ratchet blinked a few times, "Uh, yeah, sure. I've, uh, got time," he answered, unsure of how he should read what she'd said. "Just uh… come get me whenever you're ready, ok?."

Talwyn nodded, unseen, behind the glass door, "O-ok."

And with that, the tan-furred Lombax opened the door and walked out of the bathroom before shutting it behind him.

The second it was closed, however, he put his hands to his face and groaned his sorrow to the galaxy.

'Why did I do that?!' he demanded. He still couldn't believe that he'd blurted out something so embarrassing!

A Markazian's sense of smell was nothing compared to a Lombax's! There was absolutely no way that Talwyn could understand what someone's scent meant to him.

And even if she did, he wasn't sure if it would make things less, or more embarrassing for him.

He tried to break it down.

Best case scenario: she just thinks he's weird now. The thought that he'd ruined the persona of the cool, dashing adventurer that he'd worked so hard to portray himself as to the Young Markazian hurt, but it was preferable to the alternative.

Worst case scenario: she probably thinks he's a massive super-pervert with a B.O. fetish. She'd probably been sick to her stomach on the other side of that glass. So disgusted that she'd been rendered speechless!

Ratchet ran his hands through his scalp fur in frustration.

She'd said that she wanted to meet up later to 'show him something'. Was she going to tell him how gross she thought he was? Or that if she ever caught him sniffing within ten feet of her, she'd put a blaster round through his muzzle?

If she had said 'talk' he'd have been sure of it, but she said 'show'.

'What did that mean?!'

The tormented Lombax violently ruffled his scalp and ears before finally letting out a long, frustrated growl of defeat.

His shoulders slumped as he began walking away.

He headed straight for the station's hangar, hoping that some mechanical work on their ships might take his mind off of everything that he'd just done. Though, he was fully aware that the reality of what had happened wasn't going away, no matter how hard he tried.

Talwyn had her hand pressed up against the smooth surface of the frosted glass, watching the lines of water that ran from it as they cut a path through the steam where Ratchet's outline had been a moment ago.

She was the daughter of renowned Lombax researcher Maxwell Apogee and even before her month-long marathon of Lombax research she had always known that Lombaxes had sensitive noses and that scent was an important part of their culture.

However, Talwyn also knew that there was more to it than that. To a Lombax, how someone smelled was just as important, if not more so, than what they looked like. Some of her father's research detailed popular Lombax dating programs that matched prospective couples together by scent compatibility alone.

In spite of knowing this, or perhaps 'because' of it, she had always been careful to keep her scent hidden, always believing that smelling like fruit would be preferred to her natural body odor.

But now Ratchet 'knew' what she smelled like, and not just her normal smell either, but her old-clothed, no-shower, zero-perfumed smell. It had been one-hundred percent her own scent… and he just told her that he 'liked' it.

It was the equivalent of having been seen naked and being told that she looked beautiful.

Talwyn felt her heart race as she turned and pressed her back against the door.

She looked up into the vaguely swirling steam-filled air. In her head, she knew that the idea was supposed to be repulsive, that the thought of someone being attracted to her sweat and stink was weird…

'So then, why was the thought so 'exciting'?' she asked, putting a hand over her thumping heart and closing her eyes as she let her mind wander under warm spray that continued to caress her bare skin.

Before any other part of her could wander, however, Talwyn's eyes shot open and she stood up straight.

"No! I need to focus," she said aloud, before marching her way over to the shower control and turning the temperature 'way' down.

The hot shower suddenly turned into an icy downpour and the jolt of cold immediately brought the lightheaded Markazian back to her senses.

She had already told Ratchet that she would show him something. She was committed, now, to giving him the journal that her father had made and the information she'd gathered about Kaden. That had to be her 'top' priority.

There was still work to do. She would need to clean up the study first, for sure, and there was still a little bit of unread journal left that she wanted to go through and make sure there weren't any more mentions of Alister in there.

With a nod of determination, Talwyn finally decided that she'd been in the shower long enough. She let the refreshing spray of chilled water wash over her face one last time, before turning it off and exiting the wash pod.

In the racks to her side, just as Ratchet had said, was a full suit of her regular, 'clean' clothes. She nodded her thanks to it and her guardians who had washed them, before turning the other way and moving to the auto-dryer.

Before she activated it, however, she finally noticed the fruity soap bottle that was still clutched in her hand.

Talwyn stared at the container for several long seconds, recounting and reconsidering everything that had happened.

Then she tossed it in the nearby trash can and made a mental note to get scentless body wash on the next supply trip.

Chapter Text

Day 72 of the Fongoid City Dig.

It's been just over two weeks now since Kaden first showed up. Today I awoke from where I'd hidden my tent and supplies and carefully began surveying the situation… only to find 'him' casually eating breakfast in our usual spot.

Bewildered, I crept up to him and asked what he was doing, to which he responded in that ever disinterested tone of his that he was 'eating breakfast'.

I swear, he does this to get under my skin.

"What about the Agorians?", I say, but he just shrugged like he either wasn't sure or didn't care.

Knowing I would get no straight answer from Kaden, I quickly climbed the makeshift lookout nest I'd made during my first few days here and when I peered out over the valley.

After the raiding party had shown up last night, I thought we were done for.

It was clear that their target was the nearby Fongoid settlement that lay just outside the city and we could easily see what they were doing down in the valley with our spy glasses.

The scrawny-legged barbarians hadn't spotted us yet, but it was only a matter of time before they ransacked the village and swept the ruins in search of escaped villagers.

Had the brutes even a handful of brain cells among them, they'd know the Fongoid people would never go back into their abandoned cities, even to save their lives.

There was a whole fleet of those talon fighters in the sky as well. We'd be shot down in a heartbeat if either of us tried to take off in our ships.

Well, I've never run so fast in my life! Maybe I 'am' putting on a little weight? I quickly set about hiding my gear and hunkering down, hoping that the Agorians would pass us over and leave once they were done, they don't have the best scanning technology... or patience.

As I'm 'freaking out', however, Kaden comes up to me and says, "We should do something about them."

At first, I thought he was just giving voice to the frustration that we both felt at seeing those good people suffer. I mean, what could a single Lombax scientist and one Markazian explorer do against an entire army of blood-thirsty killers?

Turns out, a lot more without the Markazian!

As the sunrise illuminated the vast valley below, I spotted dozens of smoking craters as far as the eye could see. Each one filled with the burnt-out remains of a crashed Talon or Agorian hydra-tank. The Warband had been completely annihilated!

All the while, as I'm looking through my binoculars, jumping up and down and half-shouting, half-babbling about what I'm seeing, this tan-furred psychopath is just sitting there eating his food without a care. He even has the audacity to shout back at me, "Must have been 'some' storm last night," as if it wasn't as clear as the cloudless sky above that he did it!

I tell ya, that's the last time I underestimate even a single Lombax.

I wasn't really sure what to say or do about it after that, so I just wandered over to the fire and sat down. Kaden causally hands me a hot bowl of rehydrated food and a spoon. Again, acting as if nothing out of the ordinary has occurred.

Two weeks ago I would have pressed the issue, but I fear I've already become desensitized to this kind of outlandish reality.

With breakfast taken care of, we began our daily routine of discussing our plans for the coming days.  Kaden tells me he wants to investigate the collapsed Zoni temple on the far end of the main strip.

I told him that I too had been wanting to investigate that place, but my old secondhand, junkheap of a scanner had burned out just the other day. The integrity of that building's supports were so degraded that without a thorough scan of its structural weak points and few dabs of binding cement, I wouldn't dare step foot within it.

Of course, I had known just how important a good, quality scanner would be for this expedition before I started it, I'm no amateur, but let's just say that my holo-disks on Drophyd courtship rituals did not turn as much of a profit as one might have hoped.

Without a functioning scanner, I'm restricted to collecting the artifacts and translating runes found out in the open. Unfortunately, there aren't usually a whole lot of exciting finds to be had like that.

I mentioned this much to Kaden, and sadly, wished him luck on his search, but that's when he said something that didn't make sense.

Well, in fairness, Kaden frequently says a lot of things that don't make a lick of sense, but this was the first time he did so 'and' I understood all the words he used.

He tells me that he had been hoping to borrow 'my' scanner to look through the ruins. He then says that, if I didn't mind, could he take a look at it to maybe see if he could fix it.

Now, asking to borrow equipment is standard practice among archeologists and explorers, we're not a particularly wealthy bunch and we need to work together. But, I say that this doesn't make sense from 'Kaden', because over the past few days I've witnessed this particular Lombax pull out every sort of strange device one could imagine.

He has digging tools the size of water coolers that could do the work of an entire mining rig in just a few hours. He has burrowing, robotic worms that crawl through the dirt and locate delicate artifacts, encasing them in protective shells so that they wouldn't be damaged when he later blasted apart the area, allowing him to just walk around and pick up said artifacts as if they were pieces of fallen fruit! He even put together his whole campsite in just a few seconds using a couple of small boxes that could be carried one-handed.

So, when he asked me to borrow my scanner array, my first thought was, 'the bloody heck does he need my piece of junk for?' Sure, my scanner was a high-fidelity, wide-range scanning array, designed specifically to look through any kind of material one could imagine, but I refuse to believe that he didn't have one of the galaxy's most advanced scanning modules hidden up his tail hole! It's where he pulls everything else out of.

'Course, I wasn't about to say that to 'this' man. Forgetting the Agorian thing, I've seen what he can do to an entire dilapidated building with what I thought had been a box of breath mints! I'm not very eager to see what he might do to a young, handsome, and promising Markazian explorer, out in the middle of nowhere.

So, I says to him, "Have at it," and handed the cursed thing over. It was busted anyway and it probably would have cost the same amount of bolts to repair as to get a new one of a similar grade, so it was no loss to me really.

Well, next thing I know, that crazy furball takes apart my microwave and uses it to rebuild the blasted scanner, better than new! And I mean that literally. The thing worked like a charm, much better than any scanner of that grade had a right to.

When I see this, without thinking I say "Kaden, you're a genius, you know that?" and without missing a beat, the fellow replies with a simple, "Yes."

I'm shaking my head as I write this. I can't tell if this Lombax is arrogant, or just really good at playing the part. To his credit, though, he's the first man I've ever met who fully warranted the title, so perhaps he isn't arrogant and, as he said, is just aware of it.

Or maybe he's just screwing with a poor adventure's head for laughs! Even after two weeks I still can't tell when he's being serious or not!

Anyway, we finished preparing for our dig and spent the rest of the day exploring the Zoni temple together, identifying weak structural points with the new and improved scanner, before shoring them up so that they won't collapse while we excavated the site.

We split the work, each of us taking turns scanning an area and marking weaknesses, before handing the device over and setting about fixing them.

I say 'split', but Kaden has his own personal army of tiny, spider-like maintenance bots at his command. I think I heard him called one of them Brad, or something.

I would quickly scan a section of the temple and hand the device over to him before getting to work on my 'room'. Then, once I'd finished securing it, I'd go to where he was to get it back from him... only to find the whole rest of the 'wing' had been completely reinforced!

This only proved my suspicions though.

There's no way my tiny, bargain-bin scanner could have covered all that area in such a short amount of time, even 'with' the improvements Kaden had made to it. This Lombax clearly had his own scanners and never needed mine in the first place.

But that then begs the question, 'why did he bother asking for it in the first place?'

My only guess is that this was his way of secretly fixing the thing for me without making me feel like I was causing him trouble. Looking back, I had been complaining about the hunk of junk ever since it broke, because it really put a limit on what I could safely explore in these ruins.

Maybe underneath his brilliant mind and dry tone, Kaden actually has a heart of gold?

That.. or he was just preemptively stopping me from asking to borrow his. Ha, I wouldn't put it past him!

Seriously though, I can't figure this guy out at all. Brilliant, yet mysterious, with just a hint of crazy. Makes me think that I should be studying Lombaxes instead. They're just as confounding as these ticking tribals who abandoned advanced technological cities for no discernible reason, and much more entertaining too, now that I've met one like Kaden.

As for the temple itself, I was able to recover a few interesting artifacts that...

Ratchet's eyes were wide as he hung on every word of Max Apogee's journal.

The young Lombax hadn't been sure how he'd felt when Talwyn first showed him the notes her father had written so many years ago.

Ratchet had spent so much time pretending that the life he never had wasn't important to him. When Tachyon had shown up, he finally learned about the fate of his race, and eventually met Alister, a Lombax who personally knew the family he never had.

But Alister had been reluctant to say much about his father, or anything about the Lombaxes, for that matter. Alway dismissing the subject by saying, "How relevant is the past when it can be changed?"

When Alister had died, the only connection to his past had suddenly been severed, and Ratchet had felt alone. More so than he'd ever felt before, despite being an orphan his entire life.

In that grief, he had decided to return to Veldin, just wanting some time to sort out all the crazy that his life had been ever since that day he'd left it with Clank. There, he'd begun to wonder if maybe he'd have been better off staying on that lonely mudball of a planet, having never learned about his past, just to lose it tragically.

But now...

'So this was my father,' he thought to himself yet again, marveling at the antics of a man he was at once so close to, yet farther away from than any galaxy.

Reflexively, Ratchet reached forward to flip the virtual page on the journal, eager to read the next section that Talwyn had bookmarked for him, when he felt a sudden pressure on top of his head and against his side.

However, the young Lombax didn't even flinch. He just smiled to himself, not even having to look to know what it was, the gentle, rhythmic breathing and familiar shape of Talwyn telling him everything.

The tired Markazian had been trying desperately to stay awake with him, even as she'd begun fading in and out. Ratchet had tried to get her to go to bed, even offering to look at the journal with her later, but she stubbornly refused, insisting that she wasn't actually tired and that she was fine.

"I told ya, Tal," the smug Lombax grinned up at her. He tried to shake his head in mock disappointment, but stopped when he realized he couldn't

Not wanting to wake her, the young Lombax carefully slid over a bit, cradling Talwyn's sleeping form with his hands to stop her from falling. He then slowly lowered her down until her head had moved off of his and down to his shoulder.

His intention had been to keep going until he could lay the sleeping Markazian out flat on the couch, however, as he attempted the second transition, Talwyn unconsciously turned her head and brushed her hair into his face.

Ratchet's whole body froze. It was faint, and at first, he had trouble believing what his nose was telling him, but the scent was unmistakable.

When he and Talwyn had first entered the study, she had smelled as she always did, like an artificial fruit tree was covered in soap. The fake fragrance had been milder than usual, but he hadn't thought much of it at the time.

By now, however, the smell of citrus had faded greatly, allowing Talwyn's natural scent to begin seeping through. Ratchet could tell with one whiff that she hadn't adhered to her usual regime of coating herself in an impenetrable shield of fruity odor.

Realizing this, the young Lombax swallowed hard and fought to keep himself calm. Despite this, he could feel his heart pumping violently in his chest and his fur standing on end. Slowly, he turned his head away from Talwyn, preventing himself from breathing her in too deeply.

As much as he wanted to, it just felt wrong to enjoy Talwyn's sweet scent while she was asleep. To him, it would have been like looking at somebody's body while they were unconscious, which he was also careful not to do.

He also didn't want to jump to conclusions as to what this meant, either. It was possible that she had simply run out of her usual cleaning products.

Still, it was becoming very hard, er… 'difficult', for him not to think about it now, what with her head resting just inches from his nose, her soft breathing making his fur wave back and forth in time with her gentle rise and fall.

Swallowing again, Ratchet carefully turned back to Talwyn's face, mindful not to breathe through his nose as he did.

With their height difference, he was sure that his shoulder couldn't have been very comfortable, but Talwyn seemed to be cozy where she was and it didn't seem to be worth the risk to disturb her now.

Assuring himself that he wasn't just doing it because he wanted to, the young Lombax resigned himself to being a temporary pillow and leaned back against the couch.

Now comfortable himself, and with nowhere to go, Ratchet turned the small holo-screen projector over in his hand. The journal contained within the tiny device could never come close to replacing Alister, but it meant that his father's memory was no longer lost completely.

Talwyn turned slightly in her sleep, nuzzling deeper into the soft fur on Ratchet's neck.

When Ratchet's nerves had finally calmed back down, he began to think about how hard it must have been for her to find the recordings.

He himself had never even met 'his' father and even this small, third-person account of the man was an emotional journey. He could only imagine what she must have gone through to find it, going through all of her missing father's research and personal notes like that.

And then there was the sheer amount of time it must have taken to locate.

Ratchet had noticed the dust lines in the hallway that led from the study to the various rooms around it. He wasn't sure how much more research data was stored behind those adjacent doors, but he was sure that it must have been a lot if they'd all had such a well-worn path in the dust made to them.

Even more telling, however, was the fact that the whole room smelled faintly of Talwyn's scent. He hadn't said anything, sure that Talwyn's nose couldn't tell it was there and not wanting to embarrass himself further after what he'd said in the bathroom.

When he'd first entered the study, he had seen the dust lines near the vents and the magnetic holding straps tucked away in the corner. These two things told him she'd tried to vent the room in an attempt to clean out the smell, but her scent was still everywhere. The fact that her smell had seeped so deeply into everything, showed just how much time she must have spent in this room.

As a side note, he also realized she must not have used any strong cleaning solutions or air fresheners in consideration of his sensitive nose.

With a soft smile, Ratchet glanced over at Talwyn's sleeping face again, only now realizing what she'd done for him.

But then his smile faded as he began to think about the last time he'd seen her… the time he'd told her he wanted to go home to Veldin… and then just left when she'd cried.

A sharp pain stabbed through Ratchet's chest as guilt racked his body, 'How could I be so stupid?!' he demanded of himself, ashamed of what he'd done.

He'd spent all this time moping about a family he'd never had and a race of people in an entirely different dimension, when there were people who cared so much about him right here in 'this' dimension and in 'this' life.

The young Lombax simply sat there, pained by regret and wishing he could do things over… but that line of thinking reminded him of Alister and the ache in his heart redoubled.

But, as time ticked on, he felt the gentle warmth and aromatic scent that radiated off of Talwyn next to him, slowly feeling comforted by her presence, until his pain had dulled.

Once again, Ratchet looked down at the small holo-journal. Even after he'd left the way he did, Talwyn had still gone through so much trouble for him. All, just to give him this little scrap of life he never knew.

The young Lombax finally realized that while this whole time he'd been thinking of nothing but his race, his past, and his loss, Talwyn had been thinking of him.

'I need to find a way to thank her,' he thought, turning his guilt into determination and looking down at the holo-journal again. 'For everything that she's done for me… but what could I give her? What does 'she' want?'

Ratchet wasn't sure and, as he racked his mind for the answer, he reflexively snuggled up closer to Talwyn. Without thinking, he inhaled her scent, noting how easily it seemed to cut through the dying odor of citrus and smelled like nothing else in the galaxy.

He also noted that the scent didn't excite him like last time, not in the same way at least. He wasn't nervous about breathing it in and his heart didn't race. Instead, the pleasant smell felt calming and relaxing. He closed his eyes as he let it permeate his mind and soul.

Chapter Text

Talwyn jostled awake.

Her eyes were blurry and she reflexively tried to rub the sleep from them.

Yawning deeply, the tired Markazian finally blinked her vision into focus and looked around the dim space of her father's study, wondering why she was.

Her memory came back in pieces. She remembered showing Ratchet the journal she'd found and showing him how she'd bookmarked every section where her father had mentioned his father.

She remembered how at first the young Lomax had been hesitant, but as the two of them read the journal together, he'd quickly become engrossed in her father's words. At least, on the inside he was.

Talwyn smiled to herself as she recalled Ratchet initially trying to play off his interest as if he was just mildly curious. After all, a 'too cool' galactic hero like him would never jump up and down at something so emotionally touching as this. His ears and tail betrayed him, however, and they'd told Talwyn the 'real' truth.

She looked around the room, still a little drowsy. She appeared to be alone now.

Next, she remembered her eyelids growing heavy after the initial rush of showing off the journal had finally abated. She remembered refusing to go to bed as Ratchet had suggested, wanting to stay and watch every twitch of delight he made as he read the journal, and to be there if he wanted to talk about any of it. At the very least there had been more than a few 'Max-isms' that her father tended to use in his writing that weren't always easy to understand without a translator.

With a frustrated groan, the now fully awake Markazian realized she must have fallen asleep after all.

Talwyn glanced through the large observation window and out into space. She used the current position of the space station relative to a few familiar asteroids to calculate the time.

Her eyes widened as she read the hours

'How could I have slept that long?!' she questioned in a panic, despite knowing full well that she'd been awake more than long enough to warrant such an exhaustion-induced coma.

She blushed as she realized he must have seen her pass out like a child who missed their naptime. Stars only knew where he'd gone now.

Talwyn quickly tried to get up, but as she did, she found herself held in place by something heavy in her lap. Thinking her legs were still asleep, she looked down in confusion, before immediately feeling her heart jump in her chest.

She wasn't alone after all.

There on her lap, head resting on her thighs and back turned to her, lay Ratchet.

Talwyn's mouth worked itself open and closed, but no words came out as she fought to grasp the situation she had suddenly found herself in.

Looking around for answers, she saw the projected holo-display embedded in the coffee table. It was still on, the only major source of light in the room, and it displayed her father's journal just as it had when she'd been awake.

Ratchet must have fallen asleep reading the journal as well and then fell onto her lap.

Talwyn relaxed a little as understanding came to her, though her heart still raced in her chest.

She looked down again at the sleeping Lombax, his small frame rising and falling gently with his steady breathing. She smiled to herself at the thought of him reading the journal until he passed out.

'At least he can't make fun of me for passing out now,' she thought gleefully. Though in truth, her delight was derived mostly from the thought of how much he'd liked her little gift. It had been worth the effort and then some.

Reflexively, Talwyn reached out and placed an affectionate hand on the sleeping Lombax's fuzzy head, and felt a deep sense of satisfaction that she had been able to give this to him.

She hoped that, deep down, she had been able to bring his pained heart just a little bit of comfort, and judging by the way he was sleeping soundly on her lap, she felt confident that she had, which made her smile grow even wider.

Then Ratchet's ear twitched…

Talwyn went stiff

Wide and unblinking, her gaze stared fixedly at the large, floppy appendage. She remained perfectly still, like a cat that had spotted prey.

She glanced around the room… they were alone.

She blinked, and turned eyes back to Ratchet's ear. Watching it without blinking until… it twitched again. Twice this time, in two rapid flicks.

Talwyn's breathing came to her in long, slow draws and her hands slowly rose into the air.

'No, no, no!' a small part of her mind whispered weakly, but it was unheard over the wordlessly silent roar of instinctual desire that reigned supreme in her thoughts.

Talwyn swallowed hard, her heart pounding against her chest with such intensity that it could probably wake Ratchet up at any moment, but she paid it no heed as her hands slowly moved closer, encircling the fuzzy Lombax ear.

She hesitated, 'It's fine, right?' asked a part of her mind as the rush of the moment faded and the fear of consequences finally broke through. 'He… he wouldn't mind just a 'little' touch… right?'

'But what if he did?!' questioned another.

In that brief moment of lucidity, Talwyn rasped out, "R-Ratchet… H-hey, Ratchet… you awake?"

Part of her prayed that her friend would stir and prevent her from doing something she probably shouldn't… But a much bigger part of her 'really' wanted to know what they felt like.

Talwyn's words weren't loud, but they should have been more than enough to wake up someone whose hearing was as sensitive as Ratchet's… she told herself.

But the sleeping Lombax did not react.

Swallowing again, this time with no saliva in her mouth, Talwyn realized that Ratchet was out cold.

With this knowledge, her hands began shaking, just centimeters from their target,and the young Markazian could see every strand of fur on the soft, fluffy ear.

The perilous debate raged like a storm in her mind.

He was the one who fell asleep on 'her' lap. She'd have to touch him to move him anyway, right?

He'd been so worried about what she thought about his sensitivity to scents. How would he feel if he woke up to find her petting him like some kind of animal?

All of Talwyn's desires and pent up frustration strained against every ounce of self-restraint she could muster. She wanted to touch him… and not just his ears.

With jaw set, she told herself that this was wrong to do, and that it was unfair to Ratchet…

Then the ear between her encircling hands twitched once more and the sudden flick reached just far enough to lightly brush against the indecisive Markazian's fingers. It sent a jolt of electricity shooting through her hand.

Without her telling them too,, her hands had snapped shut around his ear, her fingertips eagerly burying themselves into the smoothest, softest thing she'd ever felt in her life.

It was everything she'd always dreamed of, like a thin layer of warm silk that was stiff enough to stand up on its own, but malleable enough to bend at her touch.

Talwyn's face contorted into all kinds of indescribably embarrassing expressions of sheer bliss as her hands slid up and down every feathery inch of Ratchet's big ear.

As the minutes went by like seconds, the enamored Markazian grew bolder, bending and folding the appendage at various angles.

Eventually, she reached down and tugged on the second ear. She played with them both simultaneously, doubling the euphoria.

Feeling even bolder, Talwyn was struck by an idea.

The young Markazian's movements suddenly slowed and the rapid pulse of her heart became less erratic, but beat even more quickly.

With a deep breath and great care, Talwyn held an ear in each hand and very slowly, she began moving them closer together, bit by bit, until she made the two tips touch.

At the moment, the elated Markazian felt as if lightning had struck. With eyes wide and lips split into a huge, ridiculous grin, she took in the sight before, burning the image of Ratchet's ears touching into her mind forever.

It was adorable!

Having achieved step one, she then slowly pulled the two ears apart once more… before bringing them back together again, touching tip-to-tip.

Next, she pulled the ears apart, then she pushed the tips back together. Next, she pulled the ears apart, then she pushed the tips back together. Next, she pulled the ears apart, then she pushed the tips back together.

After that, Talwyn pulled them back apart. Then, she made them touch once more. Then, she let them separate, before bringing them back together and interlacing the fur on the tips of each ear.

Next, she moved each ear back away from the other as far as they could go, then she moved the tips back as close as they could go. Then, she moved the ears apart on a different axis, one forward, one back. Then she reversed it, one back, one forward… until the ear tips touched.

Talwyn was so enthralled by what was, by now, a serious psychological addiction, that she accidentally scraped a finger across Ratchet's head at the base of his ear.

The slumbering Lombax stirred suddenly, causing the startled Markazian to let go as she froze.

She gulped, her hands just inches away from Ratchet's head as she waited fearfully for him to awaken.

But he didn't. In fact, he showed no signs that he was even close to consciousness.

Talwyn let out a hushed breath of relief, but then her worry slowly turned to curiosity.

If Ratchet hadn't been about to wake up, then what had that reaction been?

Experimentally, Talwyn gently caressed her fingers over the same spot and once more elicited a slight reaction from the sleeping Lombax.

Again she stroked the area just behind his ear, with a little more force this time, and again she watched a twitch of pleasure make its way down his body.

Fascinated with her discovery, the young Markazian began to rub the spot more consistently, lightly scratching the location, and observing the muscles in Ratchet's body contract with each pass. She noted, with amazement, how the motion caused him to stretch out his neck and legs, and how his back arched slightly. The more she did, the further they went.

As she continued to increase the pace, Ratchet's foot began to tap against the couch, until the sleeping Lombax's ankle twitched in time with her fingers' movements.

This reaction only encouraged Talwyn further and she began to scratch ever more fervently, watching with delight as his body reacted, but never taking her peripheral vision off of her true goal..

Then, at long last, Ratchet's tail began to wag.

Talwyn was biting her lip so hard that she was afraid she might break skin, but she knew that loosening her taut jaw even a fraction would allow the stream of repressed squeals and coos to erupt from her throat.

It was in that moment, at the very height of her joy, that Talwyn knew she loved him.

The young Markazian's hands stopped and so did Ratchet. Talwyn's wide grin softened into a gentle smile and she rested her hands against his fuzzy head.

Her fingers felt like they were numb. Butterflies danced in her stomach and her mind felt like she was floating on a cloud.

Talwyn had been sure she'd liked Ratchet, but now she was sure of so much more.

She breathed a long sigh, even as her heart beat a rapid thunder drum on her chest.

As the moment overtook her, she sank back into the couch and let herself just enjoy it. Even after all that sleep, she was somehow suddenly very tired again and knew she could stay like this forever if only it were possible.

She calmed herself further by watching Ratchet sleep, his furry head peaceful and warm on her lap. She cherished that warmth, slowly letting it fill her, until she felt it in her chest as well.

When Ratchet had left last time, she had cried at the thought of his pain and at how helpless she was to do anything to comfort him. She had looked upon that heartbroken Lombax and had feared that she'd never see him again.

But that fear was gone now. He was back. Here. With her again. Where he belonged. And that realization warmed every inch of her body and mind.

Overcome with joy, Talwyn gently pressed a hand into the fur on Ratchet's head. Not to play with it this time, but just to prove to herself that he was actually there.

She smiled again, before leaning forward and whispering in his ear, "Welcome home, Ratchet."

And the grinning Lombax replied, "Thanks, Tal."

Ratchet slowly rolled over and looked up into the petrified Markazian's face, his lips bent into a wide smile.

But Talwyn hadn't even heard the words, her mind had completely seized, unable to handle the sheer and sudden flood of emotions that washed over her upon seeing the complete lack of sleep in Ratchet's face.

"I-I was… T-t-t-hat's… How long have you been a-awake?!"

The corners of Ratchet's smile curled slightly, becoming a little mischievous as he met her terrified expression, "And here I thought 'I' was good with my hands."

Talwyn's face flared red as she remembered all the things she'd just done. Her face burned, even as the rest of her went cold.

Desperate, the panicked Markazian tried to explain, her mouth working frantically, but only garbled half-words came from it.

Ratchet frowned at her, though the frown did not reach his eyes.

A large hand pressed softly against Talwyn's cheek, making her stop instantly.

The young Markazian looked down at Ratchet with wide eyes. She hadn't been able to come up with a coherent excuse for what she'd done to him, or even 'why' she'd done it, but that was because there was no excuse. He had every right to be mad at her for taking advantage of him when she 'thought' he was sleeping.

Talwyn expected to be admonished at any second now and was hesitant to look him in the eye.

But when she did, her mind stilled.

Ratchet's eyes didn't look angry, or even upset. They were soft and stared up at her with deep affection… for her.

Talwyn was quickly lost in the depth of those big, emerald eyes. She didn't even notice when his hand gently guided her face down toward his.

Ratchet lifted his head up to meet her halfway and pressed his lips to hers.

Talwyn had no idea what was going on, but the warmth of Ratchet' mouth melted away her fears in an instant. Her body relaxed into the couch and she closed her eyes as she drank in his taste.

Neither Ratchet nor Talwyn knew how long they'd remained connected, but eventually, the tiny bubble meter in their lungs ran low and they finally pulled apart.

Resting their foreheads against one another, panting softly, their breaths intermingled as their minds slowly caught up to what they'd just experienced.

Talwyn breathed in deep, inhaling Ratchet's delicious scent, before pulling away and opening her eyes.

Ratchet opened his at the same time and once again she became lost in his brilliant green gaze.

The loving Lombax made a sound of pleasure from his throat as he stared up at her, almost like a purr. The sound was soft music to Talwyn's ears.

The bewitched Marakazian felt something touch her hand then and she glanced over to see Ratchet taking hers in his. He interlaced their fingers and held it close to his chest, never once taking his eyes off of her face.

Talwyn turned back to look at the Lombax in her lap. Hesitantly, she lifted her free hand and placed it on his soft head.

His fur was even warmer than she remembered and Ratchet didn't pull away. The opposite, in fact. He rolled his head, stretching his neck to press himself into her palm.

The message was clear: she could touch him all she wanted.

"Thanks, Tal…" Ratchet said in a soft, breathy voice, "for everything."

Talwyn smiled so broadly that her cheeks hurt, "Heh, yeah… anytime."

Ratchet smiled up at her and they both leaned in for another kiss.

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