Ivy and Chrome PbP Forums

Chapter 8
El Ciudad Juarez

Pete, even with his gargantuan size, sits uncomfortably squeezed between the two walking brick shithouses that are Cirrus and Barry. His eyes dart nervously from window to window, catching subtle, suspicious glints from locals warily peeking through dusty blinds. The entire border settlement practically oozes the comforting aroma of armed robbery, gang violence, and every conceivable brand of criminal debauchery.

"Pete, you need to gear up?" Barry inquires, casting a quick side-eye. Pete simply shakes his head, opting for low-profile dread.

Nearby, Robbie the repair bot is busily hooking Barry’s truck directly into the APC’s nuclear engine like a glorified, hyper-capable jumper cable operator. Barry stares at the mechanical helper in genuine awe. "You know, this little guy is ridiculously useful." He suddenly pops up, practically vibrating with sudden inspiration. "Hey guys, who's up for some takeaway lunch? Pete, Cirrus, let's go shopping for food! Do you reckon they have Chinese down here?"

He gestures toward the Wilks-Remi 457 laser rifle strapped securely in the front seat. "Pete, you wanna grab that? You packing anything visible?" Pete begrudgingly swoops it up.

"What’s 'Chinese'?" Cirrus asks, a wide, goofy grin spreading across his face. "Is that alien food? Man, I’m definitely in the mood for tacos."

Lori climbs down from the APC’s side hatch, falling into step behind Champion. "I wonder if there’s a magic shop around here."

"Why didn't you hit up the magic shop back in El Paso?" Barry asks, leaning against the hull.

"I did," Lori replies smoothly. "I just want to see if they have something here that El Paso didn't."

"Like what? I might be able to help you out," Barry offers, flashing a megawatt smile.

Lori returns the smile with a sweet, lethal tilt of her head. "Not unless you’re suddenly capable of teaching me high-tier spell craft."

"Shall we be off, miss?" To'Mas interjects. His bionic, glowing red optics lock onto Barry with an eerie, mechanical intensity before he pivots and begins marching forward.

Champion decides to anchor himself next to Rhianna, quietly posting up to guard the APC. There isn't a single thing in Juárez he finds remotely appealing, nor does he need any cheap border-town trash. He systematically draws his blades, making sure every edge is razor-sharp. Oo(In a dirtbag pit like this, you never know what kind of scum is lurking in the shadows...)oO

He watches through the dust as the rest of the circus naturally scatters in twelve different directions:

Gruber has already vanished into thin air on his own private errand.

Lori saunters off toward the commercial district in search of arcane curiosities, flanked by her terrifying cyborg bodyguard, To'Mas.

Marcus, the feline anomaly, casually reveals he can speak full English before announcing he’s looking for old contacts from the Wild Cats gang.

Barry is hyperactively buzzing around the campsite, attempting to manage forty different tasks at once like a caffeinated toddler with an agenda.

Romana hovers anxiously near Bruce, Rhianna, and Drake, distinctly lacking the desire to wander this slum unescorted.

Ripper is frantically digging through his pocket notebook, trying to locate a line on the local Black Market.

Bruce sits nearby, quietly plotting his hunt for black-market ICE-breaker programs.

Robbie the bot zips around, obsessively polishing armor plating and actively seeking out broken appliances to fix.

Juganlee keeps pestering Robbie to join him on a scavenger hunt for SAMAS spare parts.

Cirrus and Pete stand by impatiently, waiting for Barry to finish his frantic multitasking so they can go eat.

Jedite perches atop the Mark V like a stoic gargoyle keeping watch, while Ranma stands guard below, sealed inside his Glitterboy suit.

Barry pokes his head through the hatch of the Mark V, squeezing right past Champion. "Romana, you wanna come with us and grab some dinner? Probably smart if we start scouting a place to set up camp for the night, too."

"At least two people need to stay behind and guard the motor pool," Romana counters over her shoulder. "Just bring me back a plate, alright?"

Barry makes a face, shrugging, then pops back out, trots over to Cirrus and Pete to begin their hunt for food.

Juganlee cautiously edges up to Drake’s window. "You mind if I head into town to look for those SAMAS replacement parts?"

Drake doesn't even open his eyes, his feet propped comfortably up on the dashboard. He lazily waves a dismissive hand. "Get out of here. Just don't make me come looking for you."

Ripper suddenly snaps his fingers. "Aha!" He catches sight of Juganlee walking off. "Oi! Wait up!" he barks, jogging to catch up.

Champion occasionally peeks through the APC’s side hatch to check on Rhianna with the subtle intensity of an overprotective guard dog. Inside the makeshift hold, the team’s horses shift restlessly in their jury-rigged stalls crafted from scrap tin and plastic siding. Meanwhile, Ranma and Jedite remain on high alert, staring out at the dusty city, just waiting for the local scum to give them a reason.
***************************************************
Lori and To'Mas branch off, leaving the rest of the crew far behind. As they navigate the shadowy back alleys, Lori spots a leaning, decrepit sign: "Warlock's Palisade."

The building itself looks like a tomb. Rotting wood crumbles under the weight of decay, and the outer walls are scarred with ancient bullet holes that look like open wounds. A sickening stench, sweet, heavy, and undeniably rotten, hangs in the stagnant air nearby.

"Well, I suspect this won't be very productive, but I'll check it out anyway," Lori murmurs, stepping toward the creaking threshold. She glances back at her cybernetic escort. "So... what's your story?"

"Unfortunately, miss, you have me at a loss," To'Mas replies, his synthesized voice echoing hollowly in the narrow alley. "The last thing I remember is an explosion, then meeting up with Gruber and Ripper. Then meeting you. One thing does puzzle me, though... With you being a mage, why the interest in me?"

"Well, for one thing, you may be a cyborg, but you're radiating a fair bit of magic," Lori says. She steps into the dim interior, her eyes sweeping over the dark corners. "No memories, huh? That must be disconcerting."

"It is, a bit," To'Mas admits, his red optics, glowing in the shadows. "Up till this point, I've been running on pure instinct. As for radiating magic, I'm not sure what that's about. Magic is just parlor tricks..."

Lori arches an eyebrow, her interest piqued despite the unsettling atmosphere.

Inside, the oppressive smell of decay settles over them like a damp shroud. Yet, remarkably, the interior is eerily well-kept. Four long, suffocating aisles of shelves stretch into the darkness, stacked with thousands of ancient texts, from pre-cataclysm vehicle manuals to brittle, crumbling paperbacks that threaten to turn to ash at a touch.

At the far end of the store stands the main counter, half-obscured by a heavy iron strongbox. Behind it stands a figure draped in ragged, moth-eaten robes. Long, matted gray hair spills over his shoulders, framing a face with sunken, hollow sockets and tired, dead eyes. He doesn't utter a word. He simply stands in the gloom, watching them browse with an unblinking, unnerving stare.

To Lori's mystic senses, the shopkeeper's aura burns with a blinding, ghostly brightness; a powerful spellcaster hiding in plain sight. Beneath the store's vast array of relics, an insidious, malevolent energy permeates the air, making her skin crawl.

She scans the shelves, searching for anything useful. Stacks of scrolls and leather-bound volumes hum with faint psychic energy, but deeper in the dark recess of the back room, a mysterious unseen object radiates a terrifyingly potent aura. It casts a bright, cold, invisible pulse that pulls at her awareness.

Moving deeper into the store, Lori continues to gently probe To'Mas about his missing past.

"The only other thing I remember," To'Mas whispers, "is walking out of an alley after a few punks tried to cyber-jack me. Being a borg is entirely new to me, but I instinctively know how to operate every system... especially this giant railgun. It's like I think it, and it just happens. Maybe it's because I have a computer brain?"

He lets out a long, metallic sigh and unlatches his helmet, tucking it beneath his arm.

Lori freezes. Exposed beneath the harsh flickers of the shop's dying lights, his skull is mostly intact, but studded with sickening chrome ports. He isn't just a cyborg; he has M.O.M. implants fused directly into his skull. A crazy.

A wave of unease washes over her. Crazies and magic almost never mix.

"Did I say something to startle you?" To'Mas asks, catching her rigid posture. "You look perplexed."

"I'm just surprised to see you have a M.O.M. conversion," she says softly.

"What exactly is a M.O.M. conversion?" To'Mas asks, his voice tinged with quiet dread. "God only knows what else they put inside my head..."

From behind the counter, the ragged shopkeeper suddenly steps forward into the dim light. His mouth twists into a grotesque smile, revealing blackened, rotting teeth. A wave of rancid, putrid halitosis washes over them, smelling like a week-old battlefield under the blazing sun.

"Which scroll is that?" the keeper rasps, his sunken eyes darting toward the parchment in Lori's hand.

Lori glances past him, peering toward the pitch-black doorway leading further into the back rooms. "Globe of Daylight," she says flatly, before pointing toward the dark threshold. "Do you have anything interesting back there?"

The man's eyes flicker toward the back room before his smile instantly vanishes. "There shouldn't be anything for sale back there. Everything is up front. What would you like to purchase?" His tone is sharp, dripping with sudden impatience.

Lori lays two scrolls onto the counter. "How much?"

The keeper leans over them, his foul breath practically suffocating her as he inspects the ink. "The first one... two thousand credits," he croaks, pointing at the Globe of Daylight. "The second is far more rare. I must charge you fifty thousand credits for that one."

Standing inches from the counter, the stench of raw death pouring off the man becomes unbearable. Lori sighs, shaking her head as she steps back from the sickening cloud. "Too rich for my wallet."

She lays the scroll back down on the stained wood, turns her back on the silent, glaring shopkeeper, and walks toward the exit.
*******************************************************
Marcus prowls through the dust-choked streets of Juárez, searching for familiar faces. The city grows increasingly desolate, the silence stretching taut until he stumbles into a sunbaked dead end. Two men stand squared off in the dirt, caught in a heated dispute.

"Man! You tink dat you're betta wit a gun dan me? You gottanotha ting comin!" The first man is tall, wearing a broad sombrero over dark curly hair, his hand hovering inches above a holstered automatic pistol.

The second man, rocking a mop of blonde hair and a poncho hiding heavy body armor, lazily dangles a sub-machine gun at his side. He offers a cool, mocking nod. "Well let's see what you got?"

Marcus moves seamlessly into the shadows, his dark form melting into the alleyway, silently observing.

The air turns to ice. The two gunmen freeze, locked in a standoff that feels like it stretches for hours. Then, in a blur of motion, both draw. The man in the sombrero is terrifyingly fast. A single, surgical shot cracks through the alley, ventilating his opponent's face before the blonde man can even raise his barrel.

The blonde collapses, sliding down the adobe wall... dead.

The gunman kneels beside the corpse, darting wary glances around the empty alleyway. He never notices the feline shape lurking in the dark. Hands moving with practiced efficiency, he begins looting the dead man's pockets. He pulls out a set of folded documents, a dark smile breaking across his face. "Da maps are mine now, punto!"

He pockets the papers, then retrieves the corpse's UI Card, sliding it away before scooping up the dead man's SMG and extra magazines. Standing up, he strolls toward an adjacent building, muttering to himself. "Dat gunslinger won't be findin' his relic now. I have saved da world!"

Curiosity piqued, Marcus slips after him, completely silent.

The stranger weaves through the city, sticking to shadowy side streets and instinctively avoiding the high-risk turf. Eventually, he duck-walks into a crumbling, secluded courtyard, a labyrinth of cover that makes stalking him effortless for Marcus.

The man pulls one of four large, aged papers from his coat, crumples it, and kneels to set it in the dirt. He reaches into his trousers, producing a pack of cigarettes and a battered lighter. He sparks a flame, lighting a smoke first. Just as he tilts the flame down toward the paper, Marcus leaps over him, the sudden gust of air instantly blowing out the lighter, while scooping up the paper.

"Could I trouble you for a smoke?" Marcus purrs smoothly, pointing a dark claw at the crumpled document. "What's so interestin' about your little map? Must be something dangerous if ya wanna burn it. I could take it off your hands, deal wit it myself. Whaddaya say?"

The gunman freezes, plunging into deep, frantic thought. Cautiously, he extends an open palm. "Give it back, por favor. Da lives of many people depend on dat map vanishing, vato. Da Coalition be looking for a relic of great importance to da psychics and mages all around. If found, da balance of all da ley lines would be disrupted everywhere."

"Damn, intense," Marcus drawls, his voice dripping with playful menace. "I don' think we should be burnin' it before I know what it is. Why don't you tell me what this relic does, huh?"

The man glares, his eyes darkening. "No, I can't do dat. You're interfering in someting dat you don't have a clue about. Many people in da city will want you dead if you stop my mission, comprende?"

"Yeah, sure, fine. Whatever." Marcus uses a mentally grabs the pack of cigarettes, slides one out, and toss the rest back to the man. "Go ahead. Burn it."

As Marcus talks, his keen eyes lock onto the exposed portion of the parchment, rapidly memorizing every ink mark. "Come and get it."

The man moves warily forward, completely unaware that Marcus is committing the entire terrain to memory. The geography is unfamiliar, but the details are burning into his brain: multiple converging lines drawing toward a single focal point; a circle enclosing a distinct pyramid icon. Off to the east side of the map, the lines terminate near a massive body of water labeled The Gulf of Mexico.

Keeping his eyes locked on the feline anomaly, the man slowly snatches the paper back, cautiously rising and stepping away step by deliberate step.
***********************************************
Pete, Cirrus, and Barry happen across a lively, neon-lit joint called "The Pink Taco," a establishment whose name is as subtle as a sledgehammer, though the aroma of sizzling, spiced Mexi-style food wafting from inside smells genuinely delicious.

Shuffling into the humid interior, Barry plops himself into a vinyl booth. He takes a moment to process his surroundings, suddenly realizing that the waitresses are practically naked, wearing little more than skimpy lingerie and oversized, strategically placed aprons that barely manage to cover their most sensitive, dangly bits.

A short Hispanic brunette waitress struts up to the table, her impossibly tight apron offering a generous, utterly shameless view of side-boob. "How many?" she asks, wiggling her hips slightly as she rests a hand on her waist.

Barry holds up three fingers, trying, and mildly failing, to keep his eyes firmly at face level. "Three beers for now."

As Cirrus and Pete slide into the booth across from him, Barry leans in to talk business. "So Pete, are you going to sign on as a merc for this job? You know it pays well, and being a Juicer, you gotta grab opportunities when they present themselves. You don't have all the time in the world, you know... to make your mark."

"How long have you been juiced?" Cirrus asks, casually cutting in as the brunette returns. He immediately orders a bottle of tequila, a massive bowl of loaded nachos, and eight tacos. He hesitates on dessert, his eyes lingering on a passing waitress with a sharp bob haircut who catches his eye, flashes a sultry pout, and gives him a slow, heavy-lidded wink.

Pete raises a brow, his face flushing slightly as the lightbulb finally goes off in his head. It’s an RLR - a Red Light Restaurant.

The waitress returns with a tray, bending over far lower than strictly necessary to set down three frosted mugs, foam dripping tantalizingly over the rims and onto the table.

Barry clears his throat, focusing intently on the food menu to fight off the rising room temperature. He orders a chicken enchilada, a beef tostada, and a pork belly quesadilla, plus two more of each wrapped up for takeaway. Leaning back into the vinyl cushion, Barry takes a long, heavy swig of his beer. He lets out a dramatic, foamy sigh, looking straight across at Pete.

"You know, Pete," Barry says with absolute deadpan sincerity, "for a Juicer, you really are a coward."

Before Pete can process the insult, a tray of piping hot food arrives. A stunning waitress leans directly over Cirrus to deliver his nachos, her sheer apron brushing against his arm. Cirrus takes a massive bite of nachos, washes it down with a straight swig of tequila, and snorts, desperately fighting not to choke on his food as he laughs at Barry's brutal delivery.
*******************************************
Back at the camp, a deceptive calm settles over the crew as Drake and Bruce chew silently on strips of preserved venison, courtesy of Alec's salting skills. But the peace doesn't last. Champion catches the subtle jitter in Rhianna's posture, like a nervous energy she can't shake. She scans the area before asking softly, "Does anyone want to go for a walk?"

Champion locks eyes with her. "Sure. Let's go." A rare lightness passes over him, though his tactical mind stays sharp. Oo(Since no one else will, I might as well walk with her. She looks like she can take care of herself, but in a city like this, you never want to be caught alone)oO Whispering a quiet word into his horse's ear, he steps down from the Mark V to fall into step behind her.

Nearby, Ranma stands watching Robbie inspect the severely wrecked SAMAS suit. The little repair bot goes to work, the metallic screech of bent armor plates being forced back into alignment cutting through the ambient noise.

Bruce wipes his hands, offering a tight smile as he exits the APC. "I'm gonna scout around for some ICE-breaker programs for hacking. Anyone coming?"

Ranma grimaces, his eyes darting toward the street. "I'd love to, but someone needs to stay on the APC. Actually..." He pauses, staring at the growing cluster of onlookers near the perimeter. "Considering the crowd gathering out front, I think I'll get into my power armor. Just in case." Without another word, he retreats into the back hatch and begins suiting up.

Outside, the atmospher shifts. Jedite, perched high above, notices the shift first: the casual passersby are no longer just passing. Curiosity is curdling into something volatile. A crowd begins to swell around the parked convoy. At first, it's just cameras clicking, people taking selfies against the Mark V, and children daring each other to sprint up and slap the hull.

Then the edge sharpens.

A heavy-set, aggressive-looking local steps out from the front of the gathering. His eyes lock onto the massive armored vehicle, and a dark grin spreads across his face. "You Coalition pigs don't stand a chance when nightfall rolls around!" he shouts, letting out a jarring, lunatic cackle that echoes off the surrounding brick walls.

The silence that follows is suffocating.

Inside the Mark V, Romana's expression instantly twists into a mix of shock, indignation, and white-hot fury. "You think I'm Coalition scum?" she spits, her voice trembling with venom as she storms out of the hatch and onto the dirt, fists clenched and ready for a bloodbath. "Those terrorists killed my brother! How dare you insult me!"

The crowd freezes, drawing back a step under her sheer rage.

The man doesn't back down. He jabs a thick finger toward the heavy armored hull behind her. "Then what the hell is that?"

"I stole it!" she screams into his face.

********************************************
The young boy warily takes the cash, his knuckles white as he reaches down to haul his bruised friend out of the dirt. Glancing up at Rhianna and Champion with wide, shaken eyes, he nods. "Thank you. I... I'll do my best."

Rhianna's jaw sets. She balls her right hand into a tight fist and whispers, "Let's turn this corner and see what they do..."

Champion leans over her shoulder, his shadow falling across her as his hand drops to the hilt of his blade. "Prepare yourself for battle."

They step past the brick wall, easing into the open street. Rhianna lets out a long breath, a faint, shaky chuckle escaping her lips. "Well... that was definitely something exciting for the day."

Champion doesn't laugh. He keeps his gaze fixed on the surrounding rooftops before casting a stern, heavy look down at her. "Next time, try to determine if someone is an actual threat instead of assuming. Don't act without thinking first. Always try to determine the consequences before you act... not after. We were lucky this time, but next time we may not be as fortunate."

He pauses, the sharp edge in his voice softening into something older and far more painful. "Take it from me. I learned that lesson the hard way... and believe me, you don't want to go through what I did."

Before Rhianna can reply, a blood-curdling screech echoes through the alleyways from back near the motor pool; Romana, screaming at the top of her lungs at the gathering crowd.

Champion jerks his head back toward the noise. "Sounds like trouble back at the APC. Let's move."

*************************************************
The circle of men breaks into a chorus of harsh, mocking laughter, the sound cutting straight through the crackle of Barry’s incoming transmission on Romana’s wrist radio.

The ringleader steps forward, a smug grin plastered across his face. "Yeah, right... You stole a Coalition armored carrier? Who are you trying to kid?"

If looks could kill, the man would already be a pile of smoldering ash. Romana's eyes burn with pure, unadulterated venom. "Look! Believe me, don't believe me, I don't care! Just do not insult me by calling me Coalition, got it? It spatters mud on my brother's memory. You really don't want to know what happened to the last guy who made that mistake."

The man takes another slow step closer, stopping just beyond her reach. He rocks back on his heels, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle. "Then why pick a CS APC if they're such a stain on your brother's grave, huh?"

Around them, the edge of the crowd begins to thin out, the casual onlookers sensing an explosion and drifting away. But atop the Mark V, Jedite’s eyes narrow. He and Robbie both spot three figures slinking through the shadows near the rear of the convoy, quietly creeping up on Ripper's parked motorcycle. Inside the belly of the beast, the power core whines to a crescendo as Ranma finishes his pre-combat diagnostics, fully sealed within his Glitterboy.

Romana leans in, her lips curling into a cold, vicious smirk. "What better way to spit in their faces than to steal their own heavy armor out from under them?"

The man just chuckles, shaking his head. "If you hated 'em so much, why drive that hunk of metal? Come on, lady, just face facts; you guys are idiots. You roll into one of the most violent cities on the continent with a heavy convoy, split your forces up like amateurs, and pretend you're hot stuff? You think nobody's tried that before? You're sitting ducks."

He dismissively turns his back on her, waving a hand over his shoulder. "Take care, ma'am."

Before Romana can lash out, a deafening engine roar shatters the tension.

She spins around just in time to see a local thief redlining Ripper’s motorcycle, kicking up a cloud of gravel as he tears down the street. Romana sprints after him on foot, slamming her hand against her wrist comms as her voice shrieks over the open tactical channel: "Uh, guys? Someone just stole Ripper's bike! HELP!"
********************************************
Everyone can hear these conversations on their wrist radios.

Ripper to APC: "Hey Drake?"
Drake: "Base here, go ahead."
Ripper: "My contact never showed up here... What is everyone's 20? Over."
Drake: "Everyone basically split up. We've only heard from Barry. Champion and Rhianna just hiked it up the street. We have some hooligans out here heckling Romana. Lori and To'Mas said something bout a magic shop. Bruce is out looking for ICE hacks for his computers. Gruber has yet to report in. Over!"

Ripper: "Well we have a problem, Houston.. My contact never showed and his buddies said that he was in a gunfight with some guy. They both disappeared in the other easterly direction of the city. We just had a shootout here a minute ago with some punks. Nailed one but the rest ran away. What's the story on the whereabouts of everyone in the area of that gunfight?"

Drake: "That panther looking guy headed the way you're talkin about. But it's highly unlikely that he would get into something like that. He keeps following us. What do you want done about that?"

Ripper: "He hasn't done anything to us yet. Let him be. I think that he's lonely. Hahaha. umm over."

Bruce: "This place sucks! I'm at a dealership and they won't sell me anything for under 500,000 credits. What a f**king ripoff!"

Ripper: "Why don't you have Robbie program them for you?"

Drake: "Lori, can the Robbie do that?"

It is beginning to get dark outside....

Gruber: "Hello folks. We may need to get back into a group. The vamps will be out soon. I'm not one to brave a group of them."

Drake: "Bout time you said something.."

Gruber: "Well I hate working with people that aren't fond of me. My men went back to NG to re-establish the gang that your men killed."

Drake (distressed voice): "You asshole! Can't you just let it go?"

Gruber: "I'm just following orders like y...."

Ripper (cutting off Gruber): "Shut the hell up you two. Save it for later. Everyone, you have bout an hour to get your shit and head back to the APC. We may have to spend the night so that I can find my map."

LORI : <to Drake concerning Robbie> "How should I know? I'm a mage, not a robotics expert!" <to Ripper> "Nothing worth the price in the magic shop, I'm inclined to agree with Bruce. To'Mas and I are headed back."

Drake to Lori: "Well, <snicker> Bones. I was remembering that you, Nick and some of the others worked on that purchase. Well people, this town is rather expensive."

Ripper: "I only came for that map."

Drake to Barry: "Bet your meal is expensive."

Barry to Drake: "Why do you say that Drake, over."

"What the Hell?" Antonius says, as he joins Romana, Ranma and a few others, chasing the escaping motorcycle.

Groups begin returning, one at a time.

Juganlee's voice crackles over the tactical frequency, sharp with annoyance: "Base, this is Juganlee. What the hell is going on out there?!"

Dead silence answers him.

Cirrus dumps his newly bought supplies inside the APC, snatches his heavy rifle, and hefts his massive bulk onto the roof. He sits perched on the hull with his weapon at the ready, casually chewing on the rest of his loaded nachos while scanning the perimeter.

Blocks away, Lori and To'Mas sprint back toward the base.

Around the motor pool, Rhianna, Champion, Drake, Robbie, Barry, and Cirrus watch in grim silence as the crowd swells again. Locals of all ages, from curious kids to bored gang-hangers, pack the street like a gaudily dressed audience waiting for a gladiator match.

Gruber’s voice cuts through the comms: "I'm almost there, folks. What's the 20 on the thief? In other words, what street?"

High above the street, Jedite leaps from rooftop to rooftop, his fluid, superhuman acrobatics earning gasps from locals who mistake him for a high-end Juicer. On the pavement below, Pete breaks away from Barry and Cirrus, sprinting like a runaway linebacker, pounding the dirt just below Jedite, but surging well ahead of Ranma, Marcus, and Romana.

Up ahead, Ranma’s tracking sensors register the fleeing motorcycle rider dropping something from his belt. At the absolute last second, Ranma identifies the metal cylinder...

BOOM!

The grenade detonates beneath the Glitter Boy's stride. The blast barely scratches the reinforced armor, but the sudden shockwave knocks Ranma violently off course. He careens sideways, slamming hard into the brick façade of a two-story building. The structure groans, its foundation giving way as walls begin to collapse inward. Ranma scrambles to his feet, barely dodging a shower of falling masonry as he pushes forward.

Directly above him, the roof yields under Jedite's boots. Falling with the crumbling stone, Jedite miraculously kicks off a falling slab of concrete in mid-air, crashing sideways through a second-story glass window. He hits the floorboards inside, dusting himself off with a quiet grunt. Oo(Yep... that could have been bad!)oO

Bringing up the rear, Romana floors the accelerator of her rig, the engine screaming as she desperately tries to close the distance.

Drake taps his comms: "Lori, To'Mas... he's headed toward your end of the city. Ranma fell behind and Jedite had to take an alternate route."

The bike thief leans hard into a drift at the end of the block, careening toward the city's east side.

Ranma’s static-laced voice blares: "Lori, he's headed your way on what I think is Ninth!"

Juganlee snorts over the line: "If I had my SAM, I could catch this punk in five seconds flat."

Marcus trots past the collapsing building, completely unbothered by the chaos. Jedite dives back out of the shattered second-story window, landing in a low crouch. He rises with a wince, rubbing a sore knee, and offers a tight nod toward Marcus.

Ripper’s voice growls over the channel, dripping with menace: "How many of you were actually on watch?"

Drake shrugs over the comms: "To be honest, I saw the guy about to take it, but he moved fast. Did you even lock that thing, or what? He hotwired it in three seconds."

Ripper grinds his teeth: "I'll be there soon..."

Back at the APC, the grenade blast only feeds the crowd's dark appetite for drama. The onlookers press closer, practically daring the crew to leave the heavy armor unguarded. An angry woman steps out, shaking her fist. "What are you doing coming into our city shooting your big guns? Eh, punto?"

Another local hurls an open soda can, sending a sticky brown shower splattering across the APC's hull... and ruining the remainder of Cirrus's nachos.

Lori checks her casting focus as she runs: "I hear you, Drake." She cuts down an alleyway to set up an ambush, her fingers weaving the somatic gestures for a Magic Net spell.

"This is getting loco. Mierda." Marcus shakes his head, turning his feline form around to trot back toward the Mark V.

Behind him, Romana executes a terrifying piece of stunt driving, swerving through narrow gaps to bypass Pete and catch up with Ranma. The motorcycle thief leans hard into a corner; Romana cranks the wheel and drifts the heavy vehicle around the bend right on his tail, with Pete pounding the pavement behind them.

Jedite matches Marcus's pace, his glowing eyes narrowing as he unclips his laser sword hilt, pointing it directly at the panther-like humanoid. "Why are you following us?" Jedite demands. "I've been seeing you lurking around for the past day."

"I'm thinking of joining," Marcus replies in flawless, unaccented American, stopping Jedite dead in his tracks from pure surprise.

A few streets over, To'Mas surges far ahead of Lori, using his cybernetic audio-sensors to track the roar of the stolen motorcycle and the echo of explosions. Behind him, Lori slows down, catching sight of a sleek Samson Power Armor jetting down a parallel street directly above To'Mas, weapon hardpoints deployed and primed for a fight.
****************************************
Meanwhile, back at the camp, absolute, unadulterated chaos erupts.

Of the two dozen locals Cirrus wades into, six are already laid out cold on the pavement and over a dozen have fled for their lives. That leaves precisely three brave, or suicidal, fools left to challenge him.

The largest of the trio, a beefy woman standing nearly seven feet tall and sporting a gleaming Juicer bio-comp on her chest, steps forward with a roar. She slams her shoulder into Cirrus, shoving his massive frame against a brick building with enough force to crack the mortar and shower them both in red dust. Beside her, two Crazies rush in for the kill. The one on the right grips a spiked baseball bat, yet, in a brilliant display of M.O.M.-induced logic, completely ignores the weapon to swing a wild bare fist instead. The one on the left gets within arm's reach, suddenly looks up, and finally realizes just how terrifyingly huge Cirrus actually is.

Cirrus doesn't bother picking targets. He simply winds up and hurls a single, brutal haymaker that catches both Crazies mid-stride.

CLACK. CLACK!

Their heads snap back in unison, and both go instantly limp, collapsing onto the dirt unconscious... or worse.

The seven-foot Juicer woman's eyes go wide as saucers. She freezes, reels back, turns on her heel, and sprints away as fast as her legs can carry her.*****************************************
Pounding footfalls echo violently through the narrow alleyway as Pete sprints full tilt, his lungs burning, eyes locked on the stolen motorcycle ahead. Mid-stride, he unshoulders his rifle, lining up a desperate shot on the fleeing thief.

Pew!

The laser misses by a hair, zipping past the rider's head. The thief reacts with a frantic jerk of the handlebars, sending the bike swerving erratically across the pavement. Panic surging, Pete holds down the trigger, spraying full-auto into the dust; a blind, spray-and-pray gamble that goes horribly wrong. Adobe walls crumble as lasers bite into them, barely missing Romana's shoulder and forcing Ranma to duck his massive armored head.

Juganlee’s static-choked voice crackles over the tactical network: "I've lost track of Ripper. He's headed that way! I'm not that fast, so look out for us... Over!"

"Roger," Drake snaps back.

Ripper’s breath hitches over the channel: "I'm halfway there!"

At the main camp, Marcus and Jedite sprint back to the perimeter just as the Mark V’s heavy engine turns over, its massive armored bulk rolling forward. Nearby, Cirrus is a human wrecking ball, laying out the last of a hostile crowd with bone-crunching blows.

Bruce’s voice cuts through the comms, tense and urgent: "There's a Samson headed toward you guys! I can see it from high up!"

Gruber’s static breaks in: "I'm still quite a ways out from you!"

Inside the APC, Champion and Rhianna vault into the bay. Rhianna immediately leaps to her horse, wrapping her arms around the animal's neck to soothe it as the creature rears back, terrified by the fighting and shouting outside.

Champion slides into the driver's seat, slamming his foot onto the accelerator. The heavy Mark V surges forward, trailing right on the bumper of Barry's truck.

Drake spins around, shooting Champion an incredulous glare. "Umm... what the hell are you doing? What about the other vehicles?" He jabs a finger out the window toward Jedite and Marcus's abandoned hovercycles sitting vulnerable in the dirt.

Ripper's voice blares back over Drake's radio: "Hey, Drake, we got a real problem. Local police are already dispatched your way. You guys caused enough of a ruckus to alert the heavy authorities!"

Drake blinks, a dark, disbelieving laugh escaping his chest. "They have authorities here?!"

A few streets over, Ranma’s voice cuts through the static, tight with strain as he pushes his Glitter Boy to the limit. "I can deal with a Samson without too much trouble, but I don't want to mess with the local law. I'll catch the thief! Are you sure the Samson isn't the police? Do you see any others?"

Barry's truck screeches to a halt near the APC. Barry leans out the window, shouting to Drake over the engine roar. "Drake! You wanna get out of the APC and take care of the rides left behind?!" He lays on the horn, waving frantically toward Cirrus. "Cirrus, jump in the back!" He points toward the mounted water cannon on the bed.

Further down the avenue, Lori pumps her legs in a desperate sprint, trying to keep up with To'Mas. "It didn't seem like this long a trip going to the store," she mutters under her breath, before keying her radio: "I saw a Samson, too. I don't know if it's the same one or a second unit!" Realizing she can't catch him on foot, she pivots, heading back toward the convoy's position.

She watches in utter frustration as To'Mas runs ahead of her like a speeding sports car blasting past a bicyclist.

Back in the APC bay, Rhianna gently strokes her horse's mane, her face pale. "I have a bad feeling about this..."

Out on the street, Jedite effortlessly matches Marcus's long, feline stride. Marcus ignores the glowing-eyed warrior for a second before glancing over. "What happened here?"

Jedite glares around the chaotic street, unclipping his laser sword. "The town decided we have valuables worth dying for. Why are you following us? Why do you want to join?" He steps directly into Marcus's path, his posture menacing.

Marcus just shrugs, unbothered. "I wanted to leave El Paso. I'm Marcus."

Jedite stares him down, considering the answer for a long, heavy beat, before giving a single nod and pushing forward.

Ripper’s voice breaks over Ranma’s comms, urgent and sharp: "Because there are vehicles marked 'POLICE' with a few Samsons escorting them your way! Keep on your toes! I need these maps and then we pull out; we might have broken a few local laws!"

Ahead on the avenue, the fleeing thief darts a panicked glance over his shoulder. The sight of a towering, silver Glitter Boy closing in on him breaks his focus. He loses control of the handlebars. The motorcycle wobbles, clips the curb, and spills violently. Metal screeches against stone as the thief and Ripper's bike go airborne, crashing straight through a plate-glass storefront in a shower of glittering shards.

Gruber’s comms crackle: "I'm almost to my jeep, heading your way, guys!"

Champion pulls the Mark V parallel to Jedite and Marcus as Drake leans out, "Hey, you two! Hurry the hell up!"

Ranma, Pete, and Romana slide to a halt outside the shattered storefront. Through the clouds of falling glass dust, they catch a glimpse of the thief scrambling to his feet and darting deeper into the pitch-black interior. Moments later, Lori and To'Mas slide into the alley, having spotted the violent crash.

Suddenly, Lt. Juganlee’s voice cuts over the emergency channel, completely flat: "Hey guys... I'm being arrested. They don't even have probable cause. Can someone help me out here?"

Drake lets out a heavy, exasperated sigh. "We'll try to get there shortly..."

Ripper mutters, bewildered: "That's funny. I thought he was right behind me. I didn't see any more of them coming."

At the main camp, the volatile crowd has completely vanished, scattered like leaves before the wind. In their place, a massive Samson power armor suit looms over the rooftops, its thrusters humming as its weapon hardpoints lock onto the vehicles below.

Drake swallows hard, staring up at the mechanical behemoth. "Umm... we have a massive problem here. Power armor units on the way, and I don't wanna ruin the paint job on this thing just yet. Nick would kill us anyway; he thinks this rig belongs to him."

Before anyone can coordinate a retreat, Ranma takes initiative. His massive Glitter Boy steps straight through the shattered frame of the storefront, locking its stabilization pikes into the floorboards.

BOOM!

The Boom Gun fires. The supersonic shockwave shatters every remaining window on the block. Glass, mortar, and blinding dust blow outward in a violent wall of force as the entire back side of the building erupts into a crater of flying debris.

"Oh, shit!" Romana yells, shielding her eyes from the blinding dust cloud, her hands clamped over her ears as her eardrums throb.

"Barry to Pete!" Barry's voice screams through the radio, "Leave NOW and head for the North Star Hotel! Make sure you're not followed!"

Through the haze, Marcus's eyes lock onto the heavy Samson power armor lowering its weapons platform above them. A wild, feral grin breaks across his face. "HAVOC!" he roars, charging full speed into the smoke, straight at the flying suit of artillery.

***********************************

"If no one wants to drive them, we are ditching them, but we are leaving NOW!" Barry yells, spinning his truck around and tearing ass back toward the Mountaineer with Cirrus braced in the back bed. He casts a sharp glance into his rearview mirror, revving the engine and chirping his tires as he peels out. He slams a thumb onto his radio: "Barry to all, I'm moving the APC! There are some vehicles left behind unguarded because there's no one to drive them! Barry out!"

"I'm parking the APC at the North Star Hotel's secure parking lot," Champion adds, his voice calm and steady as he keys the Mark V's comms and steps on the gas.

Barry clicks his radio back on: "Ranma, if you can get the hoverbike back, that's fine, but don't go following trouble into more trouble. Everyone else make your way to the North Star Hotel. I'll have rooms booked for everyone by the time you get here!"

To'Mas enters the building like a freight train, blowing right through the shattered entrance in a desperate bid to catch up with the thief.

"Okee dokee!" Pete chirps nervously, executing a remarkably ginger vault into the passenger seat of Romana's Mountaineer.

Inside the ruined structure, To'Mas bursts into the main room, sliding to a halt beside Ranma. The Glitter Boy is effectively surrounded by a squad of hostile locals. Despite lacking heavy body armor, the men exude absolute, lethal confidence. Out of the corner of his eye, To'Mas spots a metallic weapon fly straight out of a pile of rubble and lock into one of the gunman's palms, likely via telekinesis. They spring into action instantly.

A hail of automatic rifle fire erupts, the deafening rattle echoing off the ruined walls as rounds ricochet harmlessly off the Glitter Boy's heavy chrome plating.

To'Mas clears his holster and levels his pistol, just as Ranma triggers the Boom Gun a second time.

BOOM!

Another apocalyptic sonic shockwave detonates inside the enclosed space. The shell hits the load-bearing wall, vaporizing stone and concrete into a swirling red mist of pulverized dust and blood.

The entire rear facade of the building floods with blinding daylight... and then, with a sickening groan of twisting iron, the upper floors yield. The structural collapse cascades down in a thunderous roar, followed instantly by the delayed sonic crack echoing through the alleyways.

As the dust cloud billows outward, To'Mas vaults clear of the falling rubble, emerging from the haze at a heavy trot as he makes a straight line for Romana and Pete's idling Mountaineer.
************************************************
The convoy:
Jedite and Marcus blow past Barry's truck and the APC in a blur of speed, with Cirrus right on their heels after brazenly commandeering To'Mas' hovercycle. Before they can celebrate their getaway, the heavy Samson power armor opens fire. The street beneath them instantly detonates into a frantic blizzard of flying concrete, asphalt, dirt, and pulverized rock.

"This is not my day..." Lori mutters through gritted teeth as her fingers trace a sharp, shimmering somatic arc through the air, summoning a glowing shell of mystic energy as her Armor of Ithan snaps into place. Snatching her longsword, her knuckles turn white on the hilt, ready to sell her life as dearly as possible.

As the convoy moves past, Drake and Robbie press their faces against the side port, both spotting Lori caught in the fray.

Lori doesn't recognize the massive, hulking monster with the unsettling golden eyes hovering near the road, but she definitely notices the convoy. Suddenly, the creature flickers its glistening hand forward, shooting out a glowing web that snags and wraps tight around her. Swearing under her breath, she immediately starts sawing frantically at the magical threads with her blade.

"We have to do something! Champion, turn left! Lori's in trouble!" Drake points frantically up the street.

Barry catches sight of her, too, his jaw dropping.

Gruber's static-laced voice crackles over the comms. "Where is everyone? I can see up the street and you all vanished!"

"Hey, we had to bail!" Drake shoots back into the radio. "We've got a power armor breathing down our necks!"

Peering out the back of the Mark V, Rhianna narrows her eyes at the Samson's chest plate. "Uh, guys? That thing has giant red letters spelling 'FED' painted right on the front."

Before anyone can digest that, the Samson strafes the street, peppering Marcus and his ride. The heavy rounds obliterate his front hover jet. His bike's nose dives straight into the pavement, catapulting Marcus over the handlebars. He skids across the asphalt, landing miraculously on all fours, right as his hoverbike cartwheels into a park bench and folds it in half.

Rhianna gasps into her radio, "Marcus is down! We have to help him too!"

Meanwhile, Cirrus scrambles up to the Mark V's rail-gun turret, desperately trying to zero the crosshairs over the Samson's head.

"No one attack the Feds!" Romana's command barks over the radio. "Everyone surrender! We can't hide from them in their own town, and it's way too late to break for open country!"

"What makes you think they won't simply lock us up and hoard our gear?" Lori grunts back, frantically hacking away at another sticky magical strand.

"You have to give them a chance!" Romana rebuts. "Besides, if they do that... I'll just demolish the town. Literally."

Cirrus nods from the turret. "Honestly? I'm for demolishing the town..."

Pitched under tons of fallen building debris, Ranma sits inside his pinned Glitterboy. The local hooligans were definitely crushed by the collapse, but his HUD reveals blissfully minimal damage.

Pete stares at the carnage in absolute awe. "Oh, no..." he whispers, though his own voice sounds like it's coming from underwater through the intense ringing in his ears.

Hearing the distant sonic boom from inside, Ripper winces. "What the hell is going on out there?!"

Jedite leaps clear off his hoverbike, sprinting full-bore toward the demon looming over Lori. But just as he enters striking distance, his boots hit the pavement with a squelch as his feet are suddenly stuck solid to a patch of magical goo.

Barry sprints up behind him to help, only to recognize the glowing Carpet of Adhesion pinning Jedite in place. He slams on the brakes just inches short. Cirrus skids to a halt right beside him, sensing the trap just in time.

The Samson keeps up its brutal strafe while Marcus dives sideways, kinetic slugs tearing three-foot craters into the road right where he was standing a millisecond ago.

Suddenly, a searing ion beam scorches the Samson's back armor, stripping away a chunk of plating. At the far end of the street, Gruber sits at the wheel of his jeep with a cocky grin, speaking casually into his wrist comm. "Finally found you guys."

In the co-pilot seat, Drake aims a laser turret straight at the demon's head and pulls the trigger. The beams pulse out only to vanish mid-air, sizzling harmlessly inches from the demon's face.

Lori breathes a quick arcane chant, snapping her hands forward. A magical net erupts from her palm, shooting straight toward the demon and entangling it in its own dose of mystical karma!

Rhianna steps out of the APC, a broadsword blinking into existence in her grip. She looks back and forth, wondering if she should help Lori or crush the Samson? Seeing Lori's net land, her focus locks onto the mech.

The Samson lands with a heavy thud just as Marcus focuses his mind. A brilliant burst of fire erupts from the asphalt, completely engulfing the power armor. To Marcus's utter delight, the flames suddenly double in size, turning a terrifying white-hot. Slag begins oozing off the armor like molten wax.

When the inferno dies down, Drake gives Marcus a quick, satisfied nod. Teamwork.

The demon utters a brief counter-spell, slipping through its magical netting like smoke. Jedite's silver laser blades come whistling toward its face, but the demon's eyes narrow. It fumbles frantically at its belt. The blades strike as an invisible shield flashes brightly, then shatters, stopping the laser blades mere inches from its skin. Realizing it's outmatched, the demon turns tail and bolts, with Jedite's floating laser blades giving relentless chase!

Back at the pile of debris, Romana starts hauling away rocks, calling over her shoulder, "Help me out, guys!"

Watching the demon's force field shatter, Lori blinks. oO(Techno-wizardry. Of course)Oo

To'Mas joins Romana, digging into the rubble. "Help me out, guys," he repeats flatly.

Lori finally hacks through the last strand of the net and steps free. Scanning the chaos, she spots Jedite glued to the street. "I can't cancel the adhesion spell," she shouts over the gunfire, "but this will keep the cops off you!" She casts Chameleon, causing Jedite to instantly blend into the surrounding pavement like a giant, invisible lizard.

To'Mas wanders off to scout, leaving Romana and Pete to lug away boulders. It's tedious work, but they're making progress. Inside the darkness, Ranma notices his massive Boom Gun is clear of debris, but if he fires it now, the shockwave will vaporize his rescue team.

"That goddamn bastard!" To'Mas mutters, moving up to guard Lori. "What was he even trying to do? Whatever, let him dig himself out."

The heavy thud-thud-thud of approaching mechanized leg-actuators echoes through the valley. They're approaching!

Gruber glances over his shoulder down the boulevard. "Oh, hell! Scramble, people! There's a whole army on the way!"

Champion stares blankly at blips on the Mark V's HUD, not entirely sure what he's looking at.

Ripper's voice cracks over the tactical network. "Gruber's right! Scramble! Hide and sit tight! Unless you think you can hold out until twilight... It's only forty minutes away!"

Robbie cuts in with cold mechanical precision. "Status update: Four Samson power armors, two Sky Cycles, two Sky Kings, and five hover vehicles incoming."

Drake winces. "Hmm... this is officially bad. We just melted one of their guys, and Lori and Jedite are pinned down. We should..."

"I'M ON MY WAY!" Gruber cuts him off, gunning his engine.

Barry pulls up in his truck, revving the engine and gesturing wildly at the back seat. "Hurry up!"

Cirrus leaps into the passenger seat, racking his gun with a wide-eyed look. "What the hell are you waiting for?! Let's haul ass outta here!"

The fleeing demon glances sideways, spotting To'Mas, and practically grins. To'Mas lifts his railgun and unleashes hell. A deafening BOOM erupts; sounding terrifyingly like a Glitterboy's main cannon. But to his horror, the cloud of flechette rounds shatter harmlessly off another invisible barrier!

The demon snickers, brandishing a tiny metallic sphere, hurling it at To'Mas. The cyborg attempts to dive clear, but the device detonates, instantly freezing him solid to the ground. Laughing, the demon disappears into an alley.

Stuck on the carpet, Jedite recalls his laser swords and casually slices out a massive ring of concrete around his boots. He leaps into the air, dragging two huge blocks of pavement attached to his feet, then waddles over to a nearby wall, deactivating his blades and vanishing into the Chameleon spell.

Barry's truck screeches to a halt with the Mark V right behind it. Lori and Marcus dive inside, and the convoy burns rubber out of the kill zone.

Gruber brings up the rear, but a Sky King overhead locks onto his jeep and opens fire. The strafing run completely guts his dashboard and steering column, forcing him to bail. Gruber rolls to his feet on the curb, aiming his ion cannon skyward and letting loose a burst. The Sky Kings return fire, forcing him into a dramatic backflip through the front doors of an apartment building.

Ranma's voice comes over the comms, dripping with regret. "Remind me NEVER to do anything that stupid ever again. If anyone is digging me out, please step back and confirm over the radio when you're clear. My quickest way out is to fire the Boom Gun again to blast this debris off me, but it's going to be VERY dangerous for anyone without heavy armor, so take cover!"

Romana grabs Pete by the shoulder and scrambles behind a heavy vehicle. "Okay, we're clear!"

Barry groans into his radio. "If you insist on being reminded, how about right now? You're an idiot to fire that thing while buried! Sit tight and wait until you're uncovered!"

Cirrus grabs the radio mic, chiming in. "Ranma, your best bet is to stay hidden. Keep quiet and let the local police think nobody's under the rubble. We'll come dig you out later!"

Meanwhile, To'Mas looks down at his frozen feet, flexes his cybernetic joints, and casually steps right off the adhesive carpet. The distant demon turns around and blinks in absolute shock as the cyborg ambles off like it was nothing.

BOOM! A muffled explosion echoes from under the rubble up the street.

Ranma pulled the trigger anyway. Through pure dumb luck and a defiance of physics, the blast of flechette rounds obliterates the pile from the inside out, punching a clear tunnel through the concrete. Debris shifts precariously as the Glitterboy begins crawling toward the light.

Romana and Pete peek out from behind their cover just as a cloud of dust erupts... and spot a heavy military transport escorted by an airborne Flying Titan descending on their position.

Pete groans into his comms. "We've got a Flying Titan and an unmanned military vehicle heading right for us. Pete out!"

***************************************************
After leaving the group on their way through the Pecos Empire, Chris guns the thrusters on his Titan Power Armor and rockets across the rugged wasteland, scouring the terrain for any trace of Gruber. His search pays off when he intercepts Jedite and a Glitterboy pilot who calls himself Ranma, both making a beeline south.

Following them down, Chris discovers the group has picked up some fresh faces; including the absolute legend who beat Atreides within an inch of his life and looted every piece of gear he owned.

After limping back to Empire City, a humbled Atreides fills Chris in on the rest: Ripper hired Ranma and reunited with Jedite. Tailing them south, Chris stumbles across Mavis's grave before banking hard toward El Paso. A few quick interrogations of the local psychics later, he's tracking their trail straight into Mexico.

Halfway to Juarez, Chris runs smack into Hummer, a literal Humvee that transforms into a full-sized robot. At first, Chris assumes he's dealing with a hyper-advanced cyborg, but the mechanical giant insists on referring to him as a "ganic."

By the tail end of day two, after a brilliantly chaotic run-in with some toll keepers at the Rio Grande bridge, Chris and Hummer finally roll up to the outer walls of Juarez.

As they debate the best way to track down their elusive friends, a bone-rattling BOOM shatters the air from deep inside the city.

Inside Hummer’s processor, absolute confusion reigns. oO(What an illogical day!)Oo First, the pure elation of finding a living 'ganic; irrefutable proof that the Recons hadn't failed. Then, total heartbreak when this 'ganic,' who insists on calling himself "Chris," reveals he's never even heard of Ferrum or the Great War.

Now, a sonic boom cuts through their chat. Hummer immediately sweeps his one-mile internal radar. oO(Purist jets! They always make that sound right before a strafing run)Oo Racking his rifle, he shouts at his organic companion, "We are under attack! The Purists must have been displaced into this world when the Transporter blew!"

Hummer frantically scans the skies for enemy fighters, but Chris just shakes his head; he knows better. That wasn't a jet engine breaking the sound barrier. That was the unmistakable sound of a Glitterboy's Boom Gun tearing reality a new one.

Hummer’s radar picks up a cluster of NG Sky Kings hovering right at the edge of his range, locking onto an intercept vector deep in the city just as dusk settles over the sky. Intercepted radio transmissions crackle with frantic static.

"Hey, Tin Can, chill out!" Chris yells over the noise. "That's no jet... that's a Glitterboy firing its main cannon! Picture a ten-foot-tall shiny robot with a massive shoulder gun that fires flechette rounds at Mach 5. Trust me, it hurts like hell if it hits you, and if you survive seeing one, you'll remember it forever!"

Chris pauses, narrowing his eyes at the rising plume of smoke. "Now, what the hell is a mech doing firing in the middle of a city? Armor isn't even allowed in most towns. Let's go check out the action, follow me!" Unshouldering his JA-11 rifle, he fires up his jump jets and launches into the sky.

This world keeps getting weirder, Hummer computes, making a mental note to archive this 'Glitterboy' phenomenon for later analysis. Instead of building dual-form robots, the ganics built pure humanoid death machines.

"Right behind you, Ganic!" Hummer announces.

Slinging his rifle back onto his frame, he breaks into a heavy trot. Mid-stride, his legs fold upward into the chassis, his arms lock into his sides, and his weapon rotates cleanly into a rear-mounted turret position. In seconds, the towering robot transforms into a sleek, armored military Humvee, tearing down the street after Chris.

They streak toward the target zone, speeding past several knocked-out civilians scattered through a war-torn sector of the city. Up ahead, a collapsed building still smolders... and two figures are hunkered down behind a Mountaineer ATV, sweating bullets.

One of them, a giant, hideously deformed 'ganic', who looks suspiciously like a Trogg, panics and barks into his wrist comms, "Umm... my name is Pete! We come in peace!" Beside him stands a sharp-looking blonde girl who appears remarkably healthy given the chaos.

Hummer briefly wonders if volunteering for the Transporter capture mission was a mistake. Opting to stay in vehicle mode for now, he paints both the D-Bee and the human female as neutral blue blips on his tactical HUD.
***************************************************
An ion beam erupts from a second-story window of the apartment complex, searing hot energy melting into the side of one of the Sky Kings. Jerking wildly, the damaged flyer breaks course and limps off toward the east.

A second later, another distant BOOM rattles windows throughout the sector.

Barry puts his truck through its absolute paces, leaving Champion and the heavy Mark V choking on his dust. Suddenly, a Samson power armor stomps out from a cross street directly ahead, raising its cannon and opening fire! Heavy slugs narrowly miss Barry's hood, tearing past into a nearby convenience store, shattering its storefront and causing the whole facade to collapse into a mountain of rubble.

"This is the Juarez Police Force!" a booming voice barks over the tactical frequency. "You are to pull over and surrender immediately! I repeat, pull over and surrender! Failure to comply will be greeted with swift termination!" A hover jeep packed with heavily armed and armored officers drifts around the giant metal legs of the Samson, weapons hot.

Drake grabs his mic, yelling in a panic, "Ranma, that was an idiotic move! Did you get out? If so... HELP US!"

Beside him, Cirrus slams a fresh clip into his rifle with a crisp clack, he switches to ion ammunition.

Gruber’s static-laced voice crackles over the line. "Umm... we are in some big shit here! I lost my jeep! Gruber out!"

Meanwhile, inside the Mark V, Champion keeps his foot glued to the pedal while Rhianna peers anxiously out the rear observation port. "We should help him," she insists, her jaw setting firm. "I must live up to my code!" She points back toward the alley where Gruber was last seen.

"Don't!" Drake snarls, whirling around. "He's not worth losing you over! He'd backstab us the first chance he got!"

Rhianna doesn't listen. Her fingers hit the control pad, starting the mechanical sequence to open the rear hatch.

Drake’s eyes widen, "No!"

Champion catches her mention of the Code of Chivalry over the engine roar.

Drake lunges for the radio again. "Drake here! To'Mas, Jedite, anyone nearby, we need suppressive fire at the intersection! Rhianna is trying to save Gruber's useless ass! Do you copy?"

Jedite's panicked voice filters back: "I'm a little stuck here! And there are a LOT of flying things buzzing around this town! Umm... did I mention we have like ten minutes before full sunset?!"

Cirrus glances at Barry. "We have to go help! All my gear is inside that APC, and I'll be damned if I let some amateur police force play with my toys!" Without waiting, he leaps out of Barry's truck mid-roll, sprinting full-tilt back toward the Mark V, muttering loudly enough for half the street to hear, "Can someone please explain to me how a simple street fight escalated into Samsons and hover jeeps?!"

Inside the Mark V, Champion abandons the driver's seat and plants his massive frame directly in front of Rhianna. "We don't have time for this, Rhi. Let him go. I follow the same code, but we physically do not have the window for this!" He stands his ground like a brick wall. "We'll go back for him later if we can, but time is running out. Sit down."

Outside, Lori hangs on for dear life with one hand, tracing a glowing glyph with the other. She flings a Magic Net straight at the approaching Samson, instantly binding its limbs and sending the multi-ton mech crashing sideways through a building's front display window. Before the police jeep can react, she snaps her fingers, unleashing a blinding flash of light that dazzles the entire squad of armed men.

Rhianna's shoulders slump in defeat. Champion gently guides her back into the interior as Drake dives into the driver's seat to take the wheel. Wrapped in Champion's arms, Rhianna gazes up into his eyes. "We'll pull through this..." she whispers, "...I think."

Crackling through the comms, a familiar voice cuts through the static: "Drake, it's Chris! What's your exact position? I'm shadowing the Flying Titan, and I've got a friend with me... He looks like a military jeep!"

"We're on the east side of Juarez!" Drake shouts into the mic. "No clue what street... I don't have time to look at signs! Up ahead are apartment blocks; we should show up on your HUD as the cluster of absolute chaos in this sector! And by the way, Chris... you and I are having a VERY long talk when this blows over! Drake out!"

********************************************************
Assessing the precarious pile of rubble shifting above him, Ranma realizes getting out is going to take delicate finesse. One wrong move and the whole building comes pancaking down. He carefully scans the cracked concrete slabs choked over the tunnel entrance, inching his way forward through the dust.

Meanwhile, high above the chaotic streets, Chris’s voice crackles over the tactical frequency. "Drake, it's Chris! What's your position? I'm shadowing the Flying Titan, and I've got a friend with me... He looks like a military jeep!"
********************************************************
The moment Drake radios back their coordinates, Chris locks onto the signal, giving Hummer a sharp nod. "We've got 'em. Let’s go give 'em a hand!" Gunning his thrusters, he banks hard into the skyline, heading straight toward the hot zone with his four-wheeled companion tearing down the boulevard below.

Cirrus dives headfirst through the back hatch just as Rhianna hits the lock sequence, sealing the Mark V's doors shut behind him with a heavy hydraulic thud.

Ripper's voice static-crackles over the comms. "You know, guys... in hindsight, bringing a heavy military APC into a major metropolis might've been a tactical oversight. Remember how thrilled El Paso was with us? Now we roll into an even bigger city, unpack a literal Glitterboy, and level an entire apartment block. They were probably just coming over to ask for our registration before all the fireworks! We need to bail. So what’s it gonna be? Risking a bloodthirsty horde of vampires in the wild, or an entire city’s pissed-off police force? Ripper out!"

Drake doesn't miss a beat, barking into his headset, "What about Bruce and Lt. Juganlee?! I am NOT leaving them behind to die!"

Outside, even with their vision completely scorched by Lori's blinding flash, the driver of the police jeep somehow manages to keep the vehicle from flipping, skidding hard against the curb. Only three of the six armored officers manage to stumble out, wildly spraying gunfire into the air, but Barry weaves his truck through the crossfire so effortlessly the bullets don't even come close to scratching his paint job.

Drake grips the wheel, speaking over the open channel. "Alright, listen up! Strategy is retreat to a safe perimeter outside town. Once the heat dies down, we slip back in to pick up our friends. Everyone in agreement?"

Pete's voice comes through instantly: "I sure as hell am!"

Gruber chimes in, right on his heels: "Sounds like the greatest plan I've ever heard!"

"Anyone actually against it?" Ripper asks, pausing for a beat. "Personally, I opt to stay in town. So far, nobody suspects me of being part of this circus."
***********************************************
To'Mas slings his rail gun over his shoulder and unclips an M-30 dual energy rifle in one smooth motion. The demon sneers, muttering a string of dark incantations under its breath. Unable to make heads or tails of the alien dialect, To'Mas answers with a pull of the trigger.

The demon's smile widens, revealing a terrifying double row of jagged, needle-sharp teeth. Unfazed, the creature casually advances toward To'Mas, mace in hand. To'Mas squeezes off two more energy blasts, but the searing bolts vanish into thin air right in front of the beast, as if the atmosphere itself is swallowing the energy whole.

Reaching into its belt, the demon unclips another grenade and pulls the pin, cooking it to lob straight at his head. To'Mas tries to snap-aim for the grenade in mid-air, but the shot strays, hitting the demon harmlessly in the chest instead.

Recognizing a losing play, To'Mas turns on his heel, sprinting full-bore and diving headfirst behind a beat-up car just as the grenade detonates. The fiery explosion rocks the street, but the heavy steel body of the junker absorbs the shrapnel, keeping the cyborg alive for another round.

*********************************************************
Ranma attempts a leap of faith out of the rubble. What is really just a few seconds of agonizingly slow creeping followed by a desperate scramble to avoid tumbling boulders feels like absolute eternity inside his cockpit. He bursts out into the light just as a massive cascade of debris seals his self-made cave forever.

From nearby, Chris and Hummer watch in awe as a literal Glitterboy comes scurrying frantically out of the collapsed building. Pete glances back and forth between the growing fleet of military vehicles, utterly bewildered.

Ranma’s HUD instantly locks onto the Flying Titan and the military Humvee just sitting there watching him like spectators at a parade. Having overheard Drake’s general coordinates, Chris guns his thrusters and banks hard toward the team's position.

Pete hits his radio mic: "Drake, Ranma made it out from under the building! I don't see too much damage to his armor. Over."

As Chris and Hummer carve a path northwest, a NG Sky King swoops in on a direct intercept vector with Chris. A shrill weapons-lock warning screams in his helmet. He breaks hard right just in time as a volley of laser blasts tears up the asphalt below. "Surrender now or forever hold your peace!" a booming voice barks over a loudspeaker.

From his spot by the rubble, Ranma tracks the Sky King soaring overhead.

Pete turns to Romana with a dry sigh. "You know, we probably could’ve hitched a ride with that Humvee... even if it was being driven by a ghost."

Suddenly, Hummer's rear turret swivels around toward the Sky King. "Hey, watch the paint job! I just got it waxed!" the Humvee shouts, firing a burst straight at the Sky King's engines.