Disclaimer: Insomniac Studios owns the Ratchet & Clank license in whole, I am merely "borrowing it" for some of the loose threads it leaves and the opportunity to see a new story rise. Though I may not own Ratchet, Clank, Angela, or any other of the characters, I put my heart into this story and therefore I own the original elements, such as the Ta'ree.
Chapter 1: Solona Breached
Solona, Deep Space in the Dagon Sector. 8 December, 16:14 Standard Time
A flash of light precedes a spherical burst. A spiral expands from the sphere's equator and the wormhole stretches horizontally as it opens. The bright mouth opens and small chunks of various metal debris fly out. A small transport ship blasts out of the wormhole, its thrusters glowing brightly as its afterburners fizzle out. Small debris continues to fling out from the wormhole, and now ships pour through.
They are a motley assortment. Some are small, sleek cargo ships with graceful curves broken occasionally by scarring from a laser blast. Huge, blocky, lumbering cargo ships exit the wormhole and peel away to give the other ships more room as the blocky cargo ships' ungainly engines push them away. Courier ships flash out of the bright mouth, the powerful engines propelling the small vessels, laser burns over many of the lightly armed ships. Haphazardly patched personnel transports at various levels of space worthiness fly from the wormhole, some of them leaking from minor hull breaches. Stout destroyers rumble from the open maw, their sturdy hulls badly scratched and pockmarked by battles.
As this ragtag fleet races through the wormhole, fighters scream out, lasers blasting. Some of the fighters are scratched and worn by battle and neglected of proper maintenance. These worn ones weave back and forth as they defend the refugee ships. The other fighters look almost straight out-of-the-factory fresh. They attack the battered refugee ships, occasionally returning fire on the defenders.
The communications officer holds her finger against her ear piece. She half-turns in her chair to tell the captain, "Captain, we are receiving multiple distress signals from the larger ships, including medical emergencies from the personnel transports." Her free hand continues to move across the keyboards. "No instructions from the Phoenix."
The Phoenix, the command ship, slowly crawls forward ahead of the Falcon. The large hangar door slides open. The fighters and scout ship within lift up and fly out of the hangar, spreading out to cover the area. The sensors officer squints at his main screen. His fingers play across the keyboards and the screen flickers. "Captain, several fighters have set an intercept course for the Phoenix, their weapons are armed."
As if to emphasize his point, one of the heavier fighters hits its afterburners and releases a spread of torpedoes towards the command ship, then slows to return to formation with the others. "The Phoenix has raised its shields and is arming weapons." The Phoenix increases speed and turns to one side to evade the torpedoes. The command ship alters its course to bring it towards the action.
The captain, who had been slouching slightly in his chair, changes his position to sit straight. "Bring us up on the Phoenix's flank. Track those approaching fighters. Communications, ask if we should engage."
The comm officer turns back to her station. After a few seconds and several button-presses later, she half-turns back to the captain. "Captain Sasha sends orders to keep weapons powered down. She doesn't want to 'present the image of another hostile fleet moving in'."
The captain shrugs and the comm officer returns her attention to her station. A light blinks from one of the screens at the sensor officer's station. The captain turns towards it to see one of the screens set to a simple tactical display showing the Falcon missile cruiser, maintaining position a little behind Phoenix's port side, with twelve yellow unknown fighters still approaching the command ship.
Keeping his eyes focused on his station, the sensors officer states, "Entering missile range. Unknown fighters still have their weapons locked on the Phoenix." A few seconds pass. The captain looks to the view screen to see the Phoenix's missile tube open. A few missiles slide out, then light up as their thrusters activate, sending them just a little off of the fighters for a warning volley.
The fighters assume the missiles to be an attack, and take evasive action. After dodging the missiles, they point back at the Phoenix and hit their afterburners.
The captain leans forward a little in his chair, leaning his elbows on the padded chair arms. "Communications, open an audio channel to the Phoenix." A beep indicates that the microphone is on. "This is the Falcon, we have approaching hostiles on our screens. Do we have permission to engage?"
A heavy sigh from captain Sasha comes through the speakers. "No, we're trying to get a peaceful—"
"With all due respect, it's obvious that those fighters aren't interested in establishing diplomatic repore."
"I know that, Falcon. Let me take care of it." The speakers click off. The Falcon's captain looks to the view screen to notice that several of the fighters have released large, slow, white warheads at the Phoenix. The command ship accelerates towards the fighters and its turrets activate, slowly turning towards them.
The Phoenix's missile tube, already open, starts to spit another round of missiles. Four of the enemy fighters turn towards the Falcon. "All right, battle stations. Shields and weapons."
"Shields up, arming weapons."
Three of the fighters approaching the Falcon fire large, white warheads like the seven already heading towards the Phoenix, though the thrusters on these rocket them at the missile cruiser. "Evasive!"
The pilot, straining to try to squeeze just a little more juice out of the engines, shouts back, "I can't, they're track—!"
The first warhead strikes the Falcon's shields. It explodes in a huge, brilliant flash of white. The Falcon shakes violently and alarm klaxons screech through the bridge. Several panels explode and sparks shower from overloaded circuits. "Shields failing! Those are enhanced nukes!"
"Nukes are striking the Phoenix!"
"I can't evade them!"
One of the nukes reaches a close enough proximity to the Falcon that it detonates. The pilot of the Falcon pushes the engines to full tilt, beyond the one-hundred percent the engines can sustain, and a groaning whine sounds in protest. While the maneuver manages to evade the primary fireball, the shock wave races towards the missile cruiser. It hits, causing the engines and main power to black out momentarily.
The ship shakes from the shock wave and momentarily loses control. The lights dim and several panels explode, sparks flying from overloaded circuits. The emergency lights come back on, bathing the bridge in an amber hue. "Hull breaches on decks three, four, and five!"
The speakers click as a message from the engine room route to the bridge. "This is engineering. We have a coolant leak we're trying to get locked down. There's also a crack in the first plasma coil pump, if we get hit again this entire ship is going to go poof in a bad way!"
Finally, the captain makes a decision. "Get us out of here! Activate the hyperjump module!"
The Falcon races away from the battle scene, still recovering from the second nuclear warhead as it desperately tries to avoid the third. Behind it, brilliant white flashes obscure the command ship Phoenix as the trundling nukes chasing after it hit their mark.
The glow of the Falcon's engines dim as it slows, diverting energy into the hyperjump module. The next nuke heading towards it is about to contact with the engines when the Falcon speeds off into hyperspace.
Thank you all for reading my story. If you have any suggestions on how to make the scene more clear or vivid, if you have comments, or you'd just like to say something, please feel free to leave reviews.