I&C - Chapter 4 - On the Road Again
I&C - Chapter 4 - On the Road Again
Chapter 4
On the Road Again
The group finally gathers, engines warming and gear clattering as Nick eases the APC out of New Lazlo. Drake glances back at everyone, offering a thin smile, “Who wants to bet that freak’s already halfway to Chi‑Town,” he says, “or far enough ahead to set a trap?” He happily pats the APC’s armored hull. “But I doubt he expects this!”
Lori smirks. “Maybe because last time he saw us, most of us were on horseback or on foot?”
Drake nods toward the horizon. “We pick up the trail where I last saw them.” He steers toward the Coalition border. “Get familiar with the systems. Bruce, see what you can pull from the computer.”
Jenna leans forward. “How far do you think he could’ve gotten?”
“Anywhere by now,” Drake mutters, eyes on the road. “But we’ll catch him. Him and his crew.”
Chris straps on the Flying Titan armor. “Once we reach the spot you last saw them, I’ll scout ahead. Might spot something. Who’s handling comms in the APC? I need a clean frequency between the Titan and the vehicle.”
Lori gestures toward Robbie, the repair bot plugged into the APC’s systems. “If no one else is qualified, Robbie can handle it.” She climbs up through a forward hatch, binoculars in hand, scanning the thinning forest.
Mavis nudges Chris. “You should have an escort. I’ve got a jetpack and can keep eyes open for you.” as he practices rifle‑butts with way too much enthusiasm.
Bruce grins as he hooks his computer into the APC’s relay. “You got it!”
Chris launches into the air as the APC rolls forward. Mavis follows, flying alongside him, eyeing his new hardware.
Nick turns onto a side road. “Just a little farther. Then we start tracking. Scouts ready? Suit up if you’re not.” He presses the gas.
Atreides dons his camouflage armor, grabs his HI‑80 and binoculars, then pops out of a top hatch to survey the terrain.
The forest thins. An hour later, the APC reaches the Coalition border patrol zone. About two‑thirds of a mile out, Atreides, Mavis, and Chris spot something near a tree... a downed suit of power armor.
“Hey,” Atreides calls over comms, “we’ve got something. Looks like a SAMAS. Pretty badly damaged.”
Mavis sees it too as he smells stale blood.
Robbie brings up a schematic. It’s an empty SAMAS shell. Then a faint radio transmission crackles through the tac‑net. Bruce pipes it through the speakers.
“This is Lieutenant Juganlee of CS Special Forces. Need medical assistance. I’ve been shot down by enemy forces. Please respond! Anyone! Please!” The desperation in the voice hangs heavy.
Drake exhales. “Poor fool… Think we should help him?”
Lori looks at Drake. “Question is; will he accept our help? But we should check on him.” She heads to the horse stalls, prepping her mount. “I’ll scout. Which direction’s the signal coming from?”
“Straight ahead,” Atreides replies.
Lori checks through her binoculars, confirming that the downed armor looks like a SAMAS.
Nick tightens his grip on the wheel. “Someone tell me where the signal’s coming from. And keep your guns loaded. I don’t trust the CS.” He waits for directions, then floors the accelerator.
Bruce glances at Nick and Drake. “I’ll triangulate the position. Mavis, Chris, fly apart and help me narrow the signal.”
Chris nods. “Should I try contacting him?”
The APC rolls forward, the team bracing for whatever waits in the borderlands; rescue, ambush, or something worse.
On the Road Again
The group finally gathers, engines warming and gear clattering as Nick eases the APC out of New Lazlo. Drake glances back at everyone, offering a thin smile, “Who wants to bet that freak’s already halfway to Chi‑Town,” he says, “or far enough ahead to set a trap?” He happily pats the APC’s armored hull. “But I doubt he expects this!”
Lori smirks. “Maybe because last time he saw us, most of us were on horseback or on foot?”
Drake nods toward the horizon. “We pick up the trail where I last saw them.” He steers toward the Coalition border. “Get familiar with the systems. Bruce, see what you can pull from the computer.”
Jenna leans forward. “How far do you think he could’ve gotten?”
“Anywhere by now,” Drake mutters, eyes on the road. “But we’ll catch him. Him and his crew.”
Chris straps on the Flying Titan armor. “Once we reach the spot you last saw them, I’ll scout ahead. Might spot something. Who’s handling comms in the APC? I need a clean frequency between the Titan and the vehicle.”
Lori gestures toward Robbie, the repair bot plugged into the APC’s systems. “If no one else is qualified, Robbie can handle it.” She climbs up through a forward hatch, binoculars in hand, scanning the thinning forest.
Mavis nudges Chris. “You should have an escort. I’ve got a jetpack and can keep eyes open for you.” as he practices rifle‑butts with way too much enthusiasm.
Bruce grins as he hooks his computer into the APC’s relay. “You got it!”
Chris launches into the air as the APC rolls forward. Mavis follows, flying alongside him, eyeing his new hardware.
Nick turns onto a side road. “Just a little farther. Then we start tracking. Scouts ready? Suit up if you’re not.” He presses the gas.
Atreides dons his camouflage armor, grabs his HI‑80 and binoculars, then pops out of a top hatch to survey the terrain.
The forest thins. An hour later, the APC reaches the Coalition border patrol zone. About two‑thirds of a mile out, Atreides, Mavis, and Chris spot something near a tree... a downed suit of power armor.
“Hey,” Atreides calls over comms, “we’ve got something. Looks like a SAMAS. Pretty badly damaged.”
Mavis sees it too as he smells stale blood.
Robbie brings up a schematic. It’s an empty SAMAS shell. Then a faint radio transmission crackles through the tac‑net. Bruce pipes it through the speakers.
“This is Lieutenant Juganlee of CS Special Forces. Need medical assistance. I’ve been shot down by enemy forces. Please respond! Anyone! Please!” The desperation in the voice hangs heavy.
Drake exhales. “Poor fool… Think we should help him?”
Lori looks at Drake. “Question is; will he accept our help? But we should check on him.” She heads to the horse stalls, prepping her mount. “I’ll scout. Which direction’s the signal coming from?”
“Straight ahead,” Atreides replies.
Lori checks through her binoculars, confirming that the downed armor looks like a SAMAS.
Nick tightens his grip on the wheel. “Someone tell me where the signal’s coming from. And keep your guns loaded. I don’t trust the CS.” He waits for directions, then floors the accelerator.
Bruce glances at Nick and Drake. “I’ll triangulate the position. Mavis, Chris, fly apart and help me narrow the signal.”
Chris nods. “Should I try contacting him?”
The APC rolls forward, the team bracing for whatever waits in the borderlands; rescue, ambush, or something worse.
"I plan to live forever. Or die trying..." Vila - Blakes 7