How You Like That

Disclaimer: I do not own Ratchet and Clank of any of its characters. This is long before the release of Rift Apart, so canon divergence is very likely. I was reminded that there isn't that much Courtarious content, so since I need a warm-up from two weeks of not writing and a depressive episode, this works well with me.

How You Like That

Within the deep sanctum of the inner stronghold, darkness flooded the security room. Fluorescent light beamed down from the numerous screens lining the far wall from the door, virtual holoscreens lining every inch of the long wall of the rectangular room. Computer controls surrounded a central chair, a monument for the security bot to hold complete control over almost every square inch of the fortress.

As the Lombaxes tore through the halls, robot soldiers blown to scraps with only a shot of an Alpha Disruptor, yellow and blue optics trained on the heroes.

"Lawrence, why have they made it this far?"

The butler bot hummed as he tapped on the keyboard to the security system, sending alarm signals through the barracks. "It seems the last few death bots have failed at eradicating the squishies from our dimension." With a simple flick of his finger, Lawrence flicked on the Enemy Indicator, locking all soldiers' navigations on the hallway the Lombaxes were. "Such a pity the violent deathbots were unsuccessful in their eradication of the Lombaxes... much like some other murderous robots that come to mind..."

"Can it, slave. They got lucky on Terachnos with the VX-102 and it won't happen again."

Lawrence chuckled, a quiet sound that was near silent.

"I mean it," Courtney said, a hand settling to her hip as her other hand shifted against the control panel. Her optics break from staring at the screens to look to Lawrence, narrowing as she gave a simple flick of her head. "Those squishies won't make it to His Dictatorship, I will make sure of it."

She looked back to the screen, glaring as yet another wave of soldiers began to fall to the mallet and wrench of each Lombax. "Those vermin won't know what hit them..."

"Forty-three... Perhaps you could make it to an even number of cursing our enemies before you, ah, 'teach those squishies a lesson' and 'rain destruction to those against our glorious robotic Empire.'"

A low growl came from the former pop star as her fingers dug into the control panel. Metal screeched and whined as she slowly turned her head, venom in her stare as her left hand drifted to the blaster hidden under her long pink cape.

"I would advise against shooting me, my Queen." Graceful fingers pattered against the keys, blue optics staying locked to the screens as more defenses were brought online. "As you have proven in the past, maintaining the defenses of the stronghold are... not your strong suit..."

Her fingers wrapped around the blaster as her other hand unclenched from the pierced control panel. "Why is it that every time you mouth off, you have a weaselly little excuse as to why I shouldn't end up where you stand?" An ugly sneer marred her face. "I've worked with studio producers and singers less slimy than you."

Lawrence blinked, his optics still to the screen. "Mm, I shall take that as a compliment, my Queen, as the music industry is equally quite known for how many vapid and shallow singers it chooses to endorse..."

"Why you little-"

Before the blaster budged from the holder at her side, the screens cut to black.

"LAAAWRENCE! COURTNEY!"

Neither robot budged as Nefarious' face flooded every screen, blowing up his image to the size of the wall.

"Why are the squishies not smoldering piles of remains?! Haven't I given you enough resources to take care of the disgusting squishy rebels?!"