Aboard the Starship Phoenix, Ratchet carefully managed the controls, keeping track of the readings the systems were giving him. Al stood at the science officer's station, while Clank was at the second in command's chair. Twilight was taking a nap in her room. Qwark was in Metropolis, acting as Sasha's VP. Ratchet was a little bit upset that he couldn't fill such a role himself - he already missed spending time with Sasha - but the role of the VP was to shake hands, look good, and make the President look good...and Qwark was better at political ass-kissery than he could ever be.
As he thought about Sasha, Clank informed him of a transmission. "Incoming call from the Galactic President. The new Galactic President."
Ratchet looked up happily as Sasha appeared on the screen. "Greetings, Madame President," he greeted, halfway between respectful and teasing. "You seem to be doing well."
Sasha chuckled ruefully. "Greetings, Captain," she teased right back. "I see you're taking good care of my old ship."
Ratchet smiled. "She needed some tuning up, but I've kept her in good shape. How's life in the Oblong Office?"
Sasha stifled a groan as she rubbed her head. "I never should have let you talk me into this. So much paperwork, and these idiots constantly spewing meaningless rhetoric to 'explain' why what I've proposed is impossible...and half the time, they don't even know what I'm talking about, let alone what they're talking about."
Ratchet sucked in a breath through his teeth in sympathy. "Anything I can do to lend a hand?"
"Actually, there is," Sasha replied morosely. "I'm afraid I bring bad news. As you know, Captain Starshield disappeared over a month ago. I've just been informed that he's been killed."
Ratchet closed his eyes in sympathy as Al gasped in disbelief. Captain Starshield had been one of the 2nd-tier heroes, those who had been high profile before Qwark stole most of the spotlight. They'd done their work, supported good causes, and overall were good people just looking out for themselves and others. "What happened?" Ratchet asked, doing his best to keep his own emotions in check. He'd need to be strong for this.
"According to reports, he was involved in some sort of illegal combat sport," Sasha replied. "Something called Dreadzone." She called up an image of a bluish skinned slug man in a red suit jacket. "We believe it was being run by this man, Gleeman Vox. He operates an underground media empire from within the Shadow Sector."
"You mean that lawless region of space on the fringes of the Solana Galaxy?" Ratchet asked.
Sasha managed a smile. "I see you've been keeping up with the paperwork yourself," she complimented. "But you need to be careful. Many other heroes have disappeared, which leads me to think that not all of those who have been in these 'games' are in willingly."
"And Ratchet, Clank, and Twilight are the big hero names recently," Al concluded.
"Exactly," Sasha confirmed. "I wanted to warn you-"
The signal became interrupted as the ship alarms went off.
"Unidentified craft approaching!" Clank called out.
Ratchet leapt from the Captain's chair, racing for the crew quarters, but he didn't make it ten feet before the assaulting troops teleported in and had the three of them cornered.
Twilight groaned as she came to. She found herself staring out of a visor in a sealed combat helmet. A robot of some sort was working on her, and not speaking. She tried to talk herself, but found no sound came out.
She struggled to recall what had led up to this. She had been aboard the Phoenix, taking a nap. The Red Alert had gone off, and she'd leapt out of bed, racing for the bridge and her station. The moment she'd stepped through the door of her quarters, she felt lightning arcing along her horn, and she blacked out. And now she was here.
When she tried to focus her magic, an alert displayed on her visor. She paused, waiting for the alert to pass as the robot made a few tweaks. Glancing around, she was only able to take in the basics of a med bay before being teleported somewhere.
When she reappeared, she was on all fours, and she was able to see she was in some sort of brownish-red armor. Her visor continued giving her details...something about being a 'new contestant'.
A new message appeared on the visor. 'Calibrating targeting matrix.'
A green hologram of a robot appeared to her left. When she turned to face it, it vanished, to reappear to her right. Frustrated, she seized the weapon in her hip holster - her visor identified it as one half of the Double Viper weapon - and fired at the hologram. When the hologram reappeared on a higher ledge, she shot it again.
'Calibration complete,' the visor read out. A map then appeared, indicating her current location and a destination.
Following the map, she shot three more holo-targets, causing an energy shield to drop, granting her access to a teleporter. On activation, she came out in a large, open area that was plainly an arena of some sort.
A holo-screen appeared, revealing the grinning face of Gleeman Vox. Twilight's helmet opened up in response to a button pressed on her peytral.
"Greetings, hero," Vox gloated, "and welcome...to Dreadzone! Rest assured you are now far beyond the reach of hope. There will be no rescues, no pardons, no possibility of escape. You are now a contestant on the greatest holo-vision program the galaxy has ever known! A celebrity gladiator, battling for the pleasure of a billion screaming fans across the Shadow Sector and beyond! Chances are you'll be dead by tomorrow. But! Those of you who play the game with skill and strategy will earn a chance to win your freedom. So, good luck...hero. We'll be watching you."
The holo-screen closed on Gleeman Vox's maniacal laughter. Several robots came out of various ports to attack Twilight, but she quickly hauled out her Omniwrench - which she now discovered was still with her - and flung it forward, activating its return gyroscope so it would circle around her as she moved. Hauling out the Magma Cannon she also found herself equipped with - she recognized it as a variation of the Shock Cannon - she quickly blasted the larger robots to bits while her wrench took down the smaller ones before it returned to her.
As she finished, Gleeman Vox appeared on a larger screen, and proceeded to explain the Deadlock collar locked around her neck. She quickly grasped it was the basic 'shock and bomb' collar that was stock for every 'captured hero fighter' film she'd ever seen at Holostar...including one she and Clank had starred in.
She was about to ignore it, but a message appeared on her visor screen.
Oh, and Twilight...we're well aware of your 'magical' abilities, and have isolated the wavelength it utilized. That's why your collar is tight enough around your neck to compress some of your fur, where you'll always feel it. If your collar is exposed to your magical frequency - whether from being tinkered with by a tool held in your telekinesis, you casting a spell on it, or you trying to teleport with your magic...and a signal will be sent from your collar...and Team Dark Star will be down its primary competitor when Ratchet's collar explodes.
Vox
Twilight swallowed, whimpering. She knew she couldn't try to escape now...not if the slightest touch of her magic on the collar would kill Ratchet. Taking a nearby teleporter, she returned to what her visor indicated was her private Dreadzone containment area.
