“Chairman Drek. Your subscription to existence has expired. Please report to the nearest black hole for recycling.”
The Lombax grinned. Drek could see his teeth even from here.
“Subject is a juvenile Lombax. Last of his kind, according to pan-galactic census. Intelligence: remarkable. Formal education: zero. He has no knowledge of quantum theory, yet he rebuilt a Warp Drive from a trash compactor and a toaster. His primary weapon is a modified OmniWrench 8000. It is not a weapon. He uses it like one. This is illogical.” ratchet and clank codex
The recording cuts to static. The last image is the OmniWrench impacting the primary lens of the recording device. The final audio is a low, metallic voice:
On the viewport, a battered yellow ship with mismatched wings dropped out of lightspeed. Standing on the nose cone, riding it like a surfboard through the vacuum of space, was the Lombax. He was holding the OmniWrench. “Chairman Drek
Lombax (Designation: Ratchet) Status: Active Threat Assessment: Omega
“Shut up, Clank. I see an open hatch.” Drek could see his teeth even from here
“Clank, the orphanage is on fire. The factory is making the fuel. Do we save the kids or blow the factory?” Clank: “Logic dictates that destroying the factory will save future lives. However, the sound of crying organic younglings is… distressing. I have calculated a third option.” Ratchet: “Let me guess. We blow the factory while saving the kids.” Clank: “Precisely. The probability of survival is 17%. But you have broken probability before.” Ratchet: “That’s my favorite hobby.”