Payload: Thursday

The mech hangar was a cluttered mess when Rob Roy returned.  He had only left an hour before to grab groceries, coming back with an arm full of brown bags.  To his surprise, his Stronbo was striped of most of his armour on the left side.  Diagnostic equipment was hooked up to the ACE in several locations and the arm was detached, hung up on an armature with a mechanic standing on a scaffold halfway inside the shoulder joint.

Rob briskly crossed the hangar floor, calling out to the mechanic. "Angus! How go repairs? This seems kind of excessive."

A muffled yell came from inside the arm, "One second, laddie!"  He could tell it was Angus immediately, aside from the familiar accent, there wasn't another man (or woman) on Camilla who wore a traditional Milesian kilt.  He struggled to get out, revealing a scruffy, bearded man covered in grease.  He sniffed and took off his bandana, wiping his brow with it, revealing his cybernetic hand.

He called down to Rob, "Just got finished putting back together the servo. That rattlin' you were talking about should be gone.  I couldn't find anything, tightened a few bolts just in case."

Rob couldn't really fault his friend from going overboard just for him, Angus really loved taking things apart and putting them back together, even things he had blown up previously.

"It was sure damn loud from inside the cockpit, it was thinkin' something was about to explode!"  Rob reached the loading elevator and it lifted him to the second level.  "Thankfully we didn't need to replace nothin', Chancho didn't give me much for food."

"Money's tight, I can’t even pay for another load of rockets for Highlander. I really hope this job is as good as Chancho says it is, I'm sick of planet jumpin' and gettin' paid beans to sit around."  Angus walked to a diagnostics computer and tapped a few keys to get an update.

Rob felt Angus's annoyance; they had been moving from planet to planet, taking on odds-and-ends jobs that ended up costing more than they paid.  However, from Chancho's last message, he sounded excited for their current opportunity.

"Beats getting your ass blasted, I guess."  Rob walked passed the berth to another door, leading to the dorms.

His friend spun around and met him on the walkway. "Whatcha bring?" he asked, as he pried a greasy finger into the paper bag.

"Hey!" Rob jerked the bags away upon seeing a messy fingerprint, nearly smashing them into the steel door frame. "More microwaveable junk.  We live cheap, so we eat cheap."

"Ooh, my favourite," Angus sighed, "I'll clean up then and meet you in the commons."

Rob nodded and out of the corner of his eye, Angus disappeared into a side door.  The common room he walked into was sparsely furnished with a kitchenette in the corner.  It functioned, but he had seen better facilities on a freightliner.

One of the low set chairs was occupied by Fernando, a tall, well-kept individual thumbing through tabs on his datapad.  His most striking feature was his two cherry red arms, both cybernetic with a glossy sheen.  He was the only one of the Banditos who had extensive implants around his body, aside from the standard spinal adapter for connection to an ACE.

He looked up at Rob as he walked in. "Rob."

"Fernando."

"What'joo bring me?"  He looked back down to the datapad, at a flashing, urgent message from Tooter.

"Powdered mini donuts aren't on the menu."  He set the bags down on the counter and began unloading its contents, mostly ready-made noodles and microwave cheeseburgers.

"Damn, I knew I should'a stocked up from the vendor down the road.  I should go check..."

"Chancho wants us all here tonight. We may have a briefing for once."

Fernando put down his datapad, his interest piqued.  "Something about a protection job, right?"

"Necessary expenses included. Berths, repairs, restocking, food, all paid for while on Camilla."  Rob tossed Fernando a noodle cup.

"Double damn, should've put those mini donuts on my charge card," he voice trailed off as he looked at the cup, "Aww, Van Dudel Noodles again?! This stuff gives you rancid heartburn, bro."

Rob then tossed him some antacids, smiling like the smart aleck he was.  Fernando just frowned.

* * *

Huddling around the coffee table, Rob and the other Banditos watched as Chancho activated his fancy datapad.  Unlike other models, his had a holographic display, turning the most mediocre presentation into an event.

Chancho was the face of the Banditos.  With a chiseled jaw, lean physique and bountiful head of brown locks, not many could resist his charm for long.  Many a time has he avoided a parking ticket or late rental fee with merely a wink and a smile. Rob admired him for his ability to get things done, but sometimes he felt Chancho was too "all business".

The bright blue grid on the pad rose into a three dimensional shape about a foot above the screen, generating mountains and valleys.  After the topography was laid out, Chancho pointed to a yellow dot on a low plateau.

"That's where we're going."

"The middle of nowhere?" coughed Angus.

Chancho gestured to a small globe separate from the main image, showing Camilla's surface. The location in question was in the centre of the planet's largest continent.  The Banditos’ current residence was at a city on its northern coast, so it wasn’t too far away.  "Technically nowhere. It's a part of Camilla that's had a little problem recently with the terraforming process. Mostly rocks and dust, pretty remote, and very little satellite coverage."

The pad zoomed into the plateau, showing the 3D framework of a prefab facility.

"My contact wants us to rendezvous at this location, where we are to escort a caravan across the dead zone and take this path to an abandoned city."  A trail of light appeared from the facility and followed a path to a circular city in a shallow valley.

Rob arched an eyebrow, skeptical. "A whole empty city?  That seems kind of suspicious."

"They called it Paradise Springs until the Rigel Rebellion happened.  It was evacuated and nobody ever bothered re-populate it; there's a few others just like it in this area.  The caravan plans on making a short stop at an old office building. Apparently there’s some kind of ‘essential data’ locked in its mainframe.  Then we bounce out the way we came in."

"So where do we come in? This sounds like a walk in the park," Angus grumbled, "why don't they just airlift themselves in and out?"

Fernando circled finger around some mountains on the edge of the map. "Remote location that no ones ever bothered coming back to? Sounds like prime pirate territory to me."

"Exactly," Chancho zoomed in on the city, "According to my contact's data, the mountains here contain dozens of AA turrets to keep unwanted visitors out.  They want to keep this operation small and off the record."

Angus sat back with his arms cross, snorting, "I don't like any of this.  Pirates, secret operations, abandoned cities..."

"You've been moping around here all weekend and now that we have a job, you want out?" Rob was astonished. Their resident highlander was more adventurous this.

Angus shook his head. "This all smells really bad, Chancho.  What do we know about this contact of yours? I'm guessin' he works for a megacorp, at least."

"She, actually.  She wished to keep her employers anonymous."  Everyone shared a glance before all looking back at Chancho.  He usually went alone to meet contacts, for hours at a time.

"Did'ja scrutinize her credentials?"

"Did'ja probe her for information?"

"Did'ja-"

"No." Chancho tapped his datapad and the map vanished. "But, I did a little digging elsewhere-"

The others stifled their snickering.

"-and it turns out she may or may not work for the Exchange, leaning toward likely. She kept a light paper trail."

"So what're your thoughts on this, Chancho?" Fernando inquired, after calming down.

"It's this or sitting on our hands again. I don't know what they're after, but we should definitely keep on our toes.  I managed to get us a day before the operation begins, so I want everyone to tune up their ACEs. We leave at sixteen-hundred, Thursday."

Fernando looked a little confused, “Why so soon? By the time we get there, we’ll be in the dark.”

“Contact’s orders.  They've been given a window of opportunity in the satellite coverage that her employers need to exploit for this operation. They want this completed as soon as possible."

* * *

Thursday afternoon.

The Banditos were packed into two Walruses, large transport planes common to mercenaries.  They had an enormous wingspan, like some giant metal bird, and a large cargo container below the fuselage.  There wasn't too much space for passengers, since these models were fitted particularly for ACEs, so the pilots were encouraged stay inside their cockpits.

The two-hour flight would put them well into the evening.  Most ACEs had lights on their arms, torso, and legs to brighten up their surroundings, though some sinister pilots turned them off to reduce visual tracking.  Combined with electronic countermeasures, night ops could be especially deadly. Rob had never done a night op before, but was properly equipped for the situation.  ACEs gave off a significant amount of heat, so infrared vision was always an option.  Still, nothing was as terrifying as something you couldn’t see, especially a couple dozen tons of walking tank with a nasty array of weapons.

The trip wasn't anything eventful, aside from a couple of bumps from turbulence.  Rob leaned back in his cockpit seat and listened to music on his multimedia headset.  Occasionally someone else would strike up conversation, but before they knew it, the Walruses were landing and the doors on Rob's end of the cargo bay opened.

His blue and yellow Stronbo strode out, catching the sun as it set in the distance.  The second-hand mech was originally all yellow, but with time and patience, the Banditos painted its arms and legs a rich blue, airbrushing tropical print palm trees that reflected Rob's usual attire.  He always wanted to get off the boggy Milesius and get to a planet like Camilla, where he could get a healthy dose of sun and surf. Maui seemed like the best nickname for it.

Maui hefted a drum-fed shotgun in its arms, coupled with missile launchers on its shoulders to cover most ranges.  It was Rob's job to clean up any stragglers and to deal a finishing blow when he got close enough.  The name "Sweeper" was scratched into the barrel of the shotgun.  He planned on getting a little maid pin-up decal on the Maui's head too.

Behind him lumbered Angus's Highlander.  Like its namesake, he carried an ACE sized claymore, specially ordered from Schmidt and Wesley.  He kept the original khaki and red from the old Hyperion days, some of the red spots combined with green and white tartan stripes.  Behind torso panels hid rocket pods, now loaded thanks to Miss Mysterious-Contact-Lady.

From the other Walrus walked Chancho and Fernando's ACEs, Regulator and Quixote.  Regulator was a slick, black matte machine, based on the Sang-eo models produced by Dimaki.  Chancho had been in the mercenary business longer than the others, so he had the time, and the leftover savings, to customize his ride to reflect his all-business practice.  It was more rounded than the original angular model, well armoured on its legs and arms, toting a long range laser rifle tweaked for maximum power output.  Smaller laser weapons arrayed on its body and shoulders made sure that anyone closing range will regret doing so.

The cherry red Quixote was another matter.  Unlike Chancho, Fernando was anything but subtle, his own Hyperion built for speed and maneuverability like the ACE equivalent of a sports car.  A lot of the armour was stripped off in favour of jump jets and boosters, making sure it was agile enough to make precision maneuvers while maintaining speed.  Both arms carried submachine guns, topped off with a retractable anti-armour bazooka over its right shoulder.

Once out, Chancho gave the all clear to their transport pilots.  The two huge machines lifted off back into the sky while the Banditos formed up on their way to the rendezvous.  According to the contact, the transports would circle around the dead zone to the extraction point.  Rob almost felt abandoned as he saw them leave, being so far from civilization, but knowing that his friends were nearby comforted him.  He had video feeds from their cockpits streaming in the corners of his main monitor and they likely had a similar set up, givin the illusion that they were too far away from each other.

The short walk from the ridge they stood on took them down to the plateau.  Two wheeled, white-and-grey vehicles, almost like mechanical caterpillars, had already taken up position in waiting.  Two smaller armoured cars, in similar colours, raced back from the huge flatland in front of them, leaving a dust trail in their wake.  Beyond them, Rob could make out the silhouette of buildings, few reaching skyscraper status, slowly disappearing into shadow from the mountains to the west.

"Glad you could make it, Banditos," sprang a voice over their comms. "You have no idea how important this mission is to my employers."

It was definitely female. She sounded familiar to Rob, though they had never met.  Likely it belonged to Chancho's totally-not-new-girlfriend contact.

"Hope we're not late, Miss Loxley, we're burning daylight pretty fast," responded Chancho, voice laced with charm.

"A few seconds never hurt anyone. But address me as Commander, Mr. McPhearson. This is an operation that my employers have placed under my control."

Authoritative, indeed.  She sounded like she carried the weight of a security officer rank and those weren’t just given out to anyone, especially in the Exchange where money changed hands all the time.  Rob didn't see any other ACEs nearby, which made him wonder if those caterpillar trucks had some hidden weapons on board.  Likely she had a trick up her sleeve in case Rob and his friends decided it wasn't in their best interests to remain on this mission.

"Yes, ma'am.  You heard her, Banditos. Best behaviour!"

"Yes...sir?" The others felt odd addressing Chancho as “sir”.  For all Rob knew, they all had equal standing in the squad. I guess not anymore now that Loxley is involved.

"Good, I'm glad we've established a chain of command quickly.  Now, as Chancho said, we're burning daylight. I plan to be in Paradise Springs within the hour.  As we enter the dead zone, refrain from unnecessary comm chatter. Loxley out."

As much as Rob hated her attitude, her side was paying, so there wasn't much he could complain about.  He guessed if he joined up with a megacorp he would be treated exactly the same way.

The caterpillar trucks started to move out with the cars adjacent to them, Quixote and Maui in front with Regulator and Highlander taking up the rear.  The cars split off from the main group on Loxley's command.  There wasn't much the pea-shooter machine gun on top could do in case of trouble, but the large sensor array on their backs would definitely see trouble coming.

Per Loxley's orders, the comms were quiet except when she decided to bark something else.  Angus had tried to contact Rob through a private channel, but it was quickly garbled.

Though it seemed to take hours, it took only half of one to reach the outer limits of the vacant city.  Most of it looked intact at a distance, but the closer they got the more they could see that the dust and wind caused some of it to erode.  Some buildings stood, others crumbled in places.  Everywhere Rob saw shadows moving in the waning sunlight, like something was watching them...

Suddenly a whole building began to shift to Rob's right.  A dusty grey and tan ACE burst from an old multi-level parking lot, crashing into his side.  It was a huge metal beast, at least a heavy class. His sensors didn’t warn him and no one else saw it coming.

Rob shouted loudly into his headset, "Contact, contact! Crap, we got contact!"  He struggled to keep himself balanced; the Maui was a hefty machine, but with this sudden attack he was at risk of tipping over.  Nothing was more terrible than being knocked over.

Fernando was the first to respond, "I got you, Rob! On your left!"

Quixote caught Maui on its shoulder.  Fernando used the Stronbo's jutting chest plate as a brace before firing wildly into the attacking heavy's head.  The heavy tried to reach over to grab the gun from Quixote's hand with its pincer claw, but Rob threw up Maui's right arm to intercept it.  The block stopped the pincer, but the whole heavy lurched forward, trying to push Rob's mech over onto Fernando.  Meanwhile the other pincer arm hammered into the Maui's lower right side.

Chancho's voice buzzed in Rob's comm, "I have my laser tracking him, but I don't have a clear shot! Try to push him away!"

"Easier said than done; this is one fat bastard!"  Rob attempted to press his shotgun in his left hand up against the heavy's torso, but fired too soon and instead shredded one of its legs.  The pressing attack ceased and it dropped to a knee.

Fernando broke off and Rob followed. A split second later, Chancho fired a blue beam of energy at the enemy mech's head, which bored a hole through and through, impacting an old office building at the end of the street.  Now blind, it tried to find a target by flailing its arms.

Rob lined up his shotgun to the heavy's torso.  "Nice try, you son of a-"

"We got more incoming," Loxley's interrupted, "two signals from behind and three in the front!"

The shotgun blast tore through the chest plating, knocking the heavy backward.  When it stopped moving, Rob took a step back from the downed mech to assess his sensors.

"No rest for the wicked! Huaaaagh!" Angus broke formation, charging blindly down the road they came from.

"Angus, get back here! We need to stay together!" Chancho barked, "Dammit, we'll take up the rear. Commander, find some cover!"

"You're giving me orders now?" Loxley was far from pleased from her tone.

"Now's not a good time to argue!" Chancho didn't give her a chance to respond as he was already on Angus's heels.

At the front, Rob could detect three vehicles converging on their location, definitely more ACEs.  He and Fernando moved up to meet them at the next intersection, taking up position on either side of the roadway behind some hablocks.  Behind them, the caterpillar trucks hid between alleys, out of sight from either direction.

One of the signals suddenly moved rapidly toward Rob, launching a itself above the buildings in the way.  It was a city block away now, almost certainly on top of the overpass on the right side of the intersection - his side.  The other two signals hadn't arrived yet, so he popped out from cover to take a shot.

In the seconds he did so, a hail of gunfire exploded around him.  He took some minor hits to his arms, not worrisome, and returned fire.  The opposing ACE was an older Hayabusa, a scout mech with very high agility but, to quote his friends, "made of paper".  The Hayabusa jerked to the left and the blast went wide, scattering on the building to its right, sadly proving the first fact true. Fernando was beside him and followed up, firing both guns at the Hayabusa.  The storm of lead made it duck back down and retreat out of sight, still on the overpass.

Rob heard a maddening beep.  Someone was locked on to him.  As he stomped backward behind cover,  he saw his sensor panel light up with six separate projectiles heading his way. They gracefully arced over the obstructive buildings, bearing right down on top of him. Two of them impacted his cover, covering the Maui in debris and dust.  Another hit the road behind him.  The next three all hit their mark, slamming the Maui to its knees.

The whole mech rocked and Rob was thrown about the cockpit.  Warnings blared in his ear, monitors flashed indicating damage.  All of his overhead screens fizzed out, save his main one, thankfully.  It was about to get dark and now his head was nearly torn to pieces. Perfect.

"How bad is it, Fernando?"

"Ahh, nothing Angus can't buff out.  Half your head is gone though."

"Peachy."

"You stay here and cover my buns, I'll see what our 'Busa friend is up to."  With that, he jumped up over him onto the roof where the Hayabusa was last seen.

Rob cursed his luck and kicked his lower console.  Thankfully, he was more or less intact; his sensors still worked, but nearly all his visuals were taken out.  Those other two signals hadn’t moved since firing, no doubt waiting for him to get out in the open to finish him off.  That lock-on was damning.

He kicked the Maui high gear, not wanting to sit around doing nothing.  He slipped around the corner of his building and kept moving under the cover of the overpass.  The trajectory of those missiles would detonate above him safely, hopefully not on Fernando.  If they weren't smart enough to clear obstacles, that was.  That was a gamble he was willing to take.

Just as he thought, they were waiting; no more missiles came flying at him.  Above him Quixote was pressing the attack on the Hayabusa, gunfire blazing between the two of them.  The chase was on and the scout mech was losing Fernando quickly.

"Rob, I got this guy on the run, sending targeting data to you now! He's about to jump!"

From beneath them, Rob could see the Hayabusa jumping off the overpass and heading towards his allies.  In midflight, his computer indicated a lock and missiles were ready to fire.  With a flick of a switch, Rob launched two missiles right at the enemy mech's legs.  A violent explosion lit up the quickly darkening cityscape.  The Hayabusa tumbled out of the air like a rock, landing out of Rob's sight.  It gave a signal for a few moments, the pilot ejecting from the crash site, sailing through the air to a safer location of the city.  That’s one they don’t need to worry about.

The other two mechs on screen began to turn tail, moving out from their firing positions.  If taking out their spotter was enough to scare them, they clearly weren't loaded up with much.

Rob was about to celebrate, but Maui was rocked from behind. He turned, seeing that tenacious heavy from before.  Between the blades of its pincer claw was a smoking barrel, belonging to some kind of retractable autocannon, he guessed.

"Still not down, huh?!" He tried to get a lock, but quickly realized why he couldn't, the same reason why no one detected him before. "That bastard is rocking ECM!"

"Just realized that?" Fernando's Quixote landed beside the Maui in a street, crushing a car underfoot.

The heavy dragged itself toward them both, holding up its pincer cannon in utter defiance.  It fired again, unsure if it was going to hit Fernando or Rob, but both of them sidestepped away from it.  Two hatches on its chest flung open, revealing a frightening number of rockets.

"Goooooddammit, I'm right in his sights!"

The terrifying cluster of rockets let loose, smoke trails twisting and twirling right at Rob.  He shut his eyes tight just before impact. He could feel shockwaves all around him, getting closer, stronger, about to blast him right out his seat and plaster his particles into oblivion.

But it never came.

Rob opened one eye, then two.  He was intact, the Maui was still in one piece,  armour level same as before.  All three mechs stood perfectly still as the smoke and dust cleared around them, each of them dumbfounded by Rob's sheer luck.  He had heard tales, but never believed, of pilots staring down dozens of rockets - the bane of all ACEs in short ranged combat - only to come out unscathed.

Rob looked to Fernando.  Fernando looked to Rob.  Both turned toward the heavy, who still haven't moved a single servo, in worse shock than the both of them.  In a flash they brought their guns to bear and unleashed hell.  The heavy's armour was riddled with holes, minor explosions bursting through joints.  Rob fired another two missiles for good measure, tearing out a giant hole in its chest, exposing the exterior of the cockpit module.

Rob hurried to the stunned mech, loading a single, solid slug along the way, slamming the muzzle of his shotgun into the breach.

What he said next came out in a hoarse whisper, "I'll be seein' you later, laddie."

What was left of the cockpit rocketed out the back of the heavy; shards of armour, wiring, cables, monitors and a bloody, tattered seat were strewn across the street. The heavy tipped back and slammed onto the asphalt.

Rob finally took a breath, gasping for air in what seemed like forever.  His hands held a death grip on his controls.  The realization creeped up on him that he had almost met his end.  Never had he been so close, so sure that he was about to die.  He had brushes with it in his time in the arena, accidents happen, but this was a different feeling entirely.

Aside from that, something was scraping at the back of his mind that was immediately brought to the forefront of his thoughts.  He’d just brutally murdered a man, firing his Sweeper point blank into his cockpit.  He would’ve never done something so cold in the arena and even then it was to force the pilot to eject, but he shot anyway. Why didn’t he eject? Could he eject even?—

His whole cockpit shuddered. He was being nudged by the Quixote.  He hadn't realized that Fernando has been talking to him this entire time.

"Rob, snap out of it! We're not out of danger yet!"

Rob hesitated before speaking, "S-sorry, I just. .  killed that guy."

"We don’t have time to get remorseful, those two other mechs are still out there and I can't see 'em. Lets get back to the trucks."

“I know, but-”

“It was you or him, Rob.  He missed, you took the opportunity.”

These were thoughts Rob still didn’t quite have a grip on, but Fernando was right, there's a time and place.  They had a job to do.

"Alright.  Let's get going.”

When Rob and Fernando regrouped with the others, the trucks were just where they'd left them.  Chancho and Angus had returned no worse for wear; apparently Angus had chopped off both arms of an enemy mech and it still kept in the fight.  The other had been chased off in a fighting retreat, relatively unscathed, so they weren't entirely out of the woods yet.  Those two missile mechs still had a spotter.

The trucks and its escort got moving again, albeit slowly, and Loxley was furious. "You're all such big, shiny, goddamn heroes, aren't you?!  I swear to god if you break formation again, I'll dock you fifty percent of your pay!"

Chancho sighed, a tinge of annoyance in his voice. "With all due respect, commander, you contracted us."

"I'm beginning to regret that decision."

"I'm going to be straight with you, commander, you're not exactly telling us the whole story here." Chancho was going say what the other Banditos were thinking, by Rob's guess. "It almost seemed like they were expecting us, or at least we're anticipating an attack.  I'm putting my men on the line here and I think I deserve to know what for."

Rob felt a little betrayed at that "men" comment, like he was distancing himself from the rest of the Banditos.  Chancho had really changed when he put on this squad leader act, or least what Rob believed to be an act; he could have been preparing for this moment for a while.

"Demands aren't going to get you answers, Chancho.  What we're going after is classified information."

"Rob, Fernando, stop right there." Chancho ordered and the whole train halted. "Then I don't see why we should continue this mission, these pirates are pretty stubborn about keeping us out.  Even from that I've gathered that what we're going after is clearly dangerous.  What's the Exchange looking for that it doesn't want to get out?"

With that truth out, the comm channels went silent for a moment.  It was a gamble, Chancho revealing what he suspected, as there wasn't enough evidence to know for certain — but the silence was damning enough.

A few more seconds passed before she responded. "I'm not even sure myself."

The comms erupted into sighing and groaning from the Banditos, but Chancho cut them off. "How do we know that we aren't going to be terminated at the end of this mission?"

"Aren't we jumping to conclusions? The Exchange's business isn't to kill-"

Fernando interrupted her, "What proof do we have of that?!"

Angus grumbled, a little louder then he should, "Hell, we could be working for XON..." He hadn't realized that his comm was still on.

The Maui and the Quixote turned around and looked right at him.  The Regulator did the same.

"What?"

"Angus, you just can't say that."

"That's not cool."

"Seriously, bro, you're making this worse."

Even Loxley growled, "I'm disgusted that you would even suggest that."

"Alright, listen!" Chancho raised his voice above everyone else. "We aren't getting anywhere spinning our collective wheels here.  The sooner we get whatever it is the Exchange wants, the sooner we can get picked up and the sooner we can get paid.  I, for one, am going to be optimistic and believe the good word of Commander Loxley here."

Fernando sighed heavily and turned back to face the street. "Says the guy that suggested we'd get terminated."

"You want to get paid? I do.  I'm sick of living on scraps.  I'm ordering the rest of you to move out." Chancho's voice was getting heated, thinking it was end of discussion.

But Fernando wasn't done. "Honestly, who made you team leader? I don't remember this conversation. Do you, Angus? Rob?"

Before anyone could answer, Loxley cut in loudly, "They're coming back! Three inbound!"

The Quioxte turned back around, Fernando coldly claiming, "This isn't over."

"What we're looking for is ahead three blocks, we should have enough time to make it there and mount a defense. There's a low wall around its entrance, we can use that for cover."  The building Loxley was talking about was the tallest among the hablocks, a governmental facility with a Rigel Conglomerate logo still attached.  Sure enough, there was an eight-meter enclosure that took up an city block on its own, with the tower in the centre, built up on a wide, almost pyramid-like foundation. When they got there, the sun had completely disappeared under the horizon, leaving them twilight and in the shadows of haunting buildings.

The contacts were closing in around them, two from the north and another ahead of them from the west, west being behind them.  It was probably that other mech Chancho and Angus chased off earlier, which they identified as a modified Wulfen.  The other two were definitely the missile mechs on a repeat performance.

The caterpillar trucks rushed ahead of their escort and nearly crashed through the glass-walled entrance, the armoured cars close behind. The troops began to unload, some carrying anti-armour launchers, taking cover in the entry while their comrades poured into the facility.  Loxley was among them, wearing some kind of white power armour.

Loxley looked up at Chancho's Regulator. "Not sure how long we'll be, hold them off as long as possible!"

"Don't worry, we got your back." Regulator gave her a thumbs up before turning around to hunker against the wall.  The other Banditos did the same.

Now the waiting game began.  The contacts were still a little far from their position, slowing now that their prey had stopped.  A lot of the buildings surrounding the tower were still intact, providing enough cover to shroud any ACE attempting to engage them in close quarters.

Suddenly, the Wulfen vanished off sensors and Rob was the first to notice. "Whoa, did your see that?"

Fernando repositioned himself to the enclosure's south gate.  "Watch yourself. They’ve got a few more tricks up their sleeves, it seems.  Guess that crab-slab from earlier wasn't the only one with ECM and it's going to be a lot harder hitting them in the dark."

"How do we know there aren’t more?" Angus questioned.

Chancho answered, "If there's more gunfire then mechs, that's how."

A few more languishing minutes passed, broken by Angus' abrupt "Lock! Lock! They got me!"

Sure enough, streams of missiles gracefully streaked up over the hablocks, arcing down toward the tower courtyard.  The Highlander stood its ground, planting its feet before firing chaff up at the oncoming projectiles.  Four blew up mid flight, but the others passed through the countermeasures and impacted on the Highlander's chest.

"Ooh, that left a scratch.  Where's that bastard?!" Angus readied the huge claymore, ready to spring out of west gate.

Rob tried to search with his one good camera left, but Chancho beat him to it.  With a audible "got'em!", Chancho fired his laser rifle toward a seemingly blank wall across the road to their south.  The beam brightened up the whole street and slagged something at the other end, revealing scorched mechanical parts underneath.  The Wulfen materialized as its optic camo faded, then it reappeared on the sensors. Rob and the rest of the Banditos were speechless for a moment, still not believing Chancho had spotted a camouflaged mech in the dark.

"How did you do. . . that." Fernando fumbled over what inflection he wanted to relay.

"I guessed."

Angus's enthusiasm brought everyone's attention back to the matter at hand. "Fernando, cover me! I'll go after it!"

"But you're still locked on and he's out in the open!"

"Then I'll be a damn good distraction!  Someone needs to take out those missiliers while they're on me."

Chancho disagreed, "We can't abandon the ground team. Moving from here will expose them to fire if we get too far apart. Besides, it could be a trap. There could be more of them out there."

Angus grunted, "A good defense is often a good offence."  Disregarding Chancho's orders, he threw himself into a sprint, charging at the Wulfen as it moved toward cover.  The sudden shock of seeing Highlander move so quickly toward him must have caught him off guard.  Rob watched as it cleaved into its machine gun arm, disabling it, but not cutting it completely off.

But the Wulfen wasn't done.  It closed the distance by pushing the claymore away to its right and taking a long step forward.  Its free left arm reached out to its side and a retractable heat knife blazed to life.  With the claymore jammed in the ruined arm and Angus unable or unwilling to let go, the heat knife hand plunged into the Highlander's side.  It wasn't deep enough to pierce its core, but coolant started showering the street.

"Damn! Core temperature rising!"

"I told you, Angus! Pull back!"

Angus ignored him.  "You bitch! You think you've gotten the better of Angus Alvirez?!"

Another steak of missiles headed their way.  Rob thought it was the end for his friend, but saw the Highlander drop the sword and grab the Wulfen by the head.  With a mighty heave, he wrenched the Wulfen around, but the enemy fought back, it's servos surprisingly strong for an older model.

"Angus!" Rob shouted in horror.  

All six warheads violently exploded into a fireball around them, clearly carrying a heavier payload then the previous batch. Angus's video feed died in static.  Rob could see the claymore fly out from explosion and down the road, embedding itself into a derelict truck.  When the smoke cleared, the charred black Wulfen stood over the burning Highlander.  Angus's mech was missing an arm and one of its legs was torn up something bad.

"Angus, respond!" barked Chancho.  Nothing, save for the buzz of static.

Fernando moved into action, dropping his right sub machine gun.  The bazooka on his shoulder telescoped out, lowering down, a stabilizing grip flicking into position.  He grabbed it and kneeled down to balance himself.  Without a word, he fired, a volatile missile flying toward the surviving Wulfen.

The Wulfen was already on the move, it's camo armour sparking blue as it shifted to the colours of the surrounding dark buildings.  The rocket veered off course at the last second, spiralling into a wall further away.  Before it totally disappeared, several hatches burst open on its shoulders, ten rockets firing to cover its retreat.

The Banditos moved out of the opening of the south gate, the rockets slamming into the enclosure or into the courtyard.  Fernando, while fast, wasn't fast enough and caught two in his leg.  He stumbled, catching himself on the tower.  Looking down at the entrance, he saw that a stray projectile hit one of the cars and it had flipped into the side a caterpillar truck.  A few bodies were scattered, one was being dragged back by his comrades.  If he had his comm system linked to them, he probably would have gotten an earful about their performance so far.

"Dammit, I lost him. I couldn't get a lock." Rob was scanning where the mech had been, but the dark and his own jumbled sensors weren't helping.  "Chancho, should I grab the Highlander?"

"Not with that thing out there.  Besides the Highlander is still emitting a faint signal, the missile mech's will still have a lock."

"How is he, can you tell?" Asked Fernando, righting himself and reloading the bazooka.

"Heat is high, his system is probably overloaded right now.  There's no telling what condition he got in there."

There was an interruption by their contact, "Loxley to Chancho, sitrep."

Chancho sighed, "We're down a man and there's a Wulfen out of sight.  How's the search?"

"We're going to be another few minutes, Loxley out."  She sounded irritated.  Rob wondered if it was their situation or whatever she had found inside.  Either case was pretty troublesome.

Aside from the smouldering Highlander, not much moved on the Bandito sensors.  Even the two missile mech's seemed oddly still.  Everyone waited with baited breath for something to happen.  That's when one of the distant mech's blipped off sensors.

"Uhh, Chancho? We lost one." Fernando sounded anxious.  He braced himself to pop up from behind the walls and blast something with his bazooka.

"I know, I see it."

"Orders?" Even Rob knew that sounded sarcastic.  Fernando ain't taking this very well. "If you don't do something, I will."

"Alright, nows your chance!" It sounded like Chancho was baiting his squad mate to attack him.  He lifted his weapon in Chancho's direction, but pointed above the wall to the surrounding buildings. "Up top! Bogey!"

Chancho fired, a blue steak slicing across the concrete hablock just below the new enemy.  It would've been hard to notice in the darkness, but there was a definitely silhouette against the black-blue sky.  It was a slender machine, like a giant mechanical spider, perched on the buildings to the northwest of the complex.  The body was topped with two large missile launchers with vicious looking arm cannons; none of the Banditos had see something like this before. Fernando turned, lining up a shot with the bazooka.  Rob did the same, but noticed something.

"I can't lock, he's jamming me!"

"Same here, you'll have to free fire!"

Both of them let fly missiles.  The cluster impacted around the top of building, just shy of the spider mech. The whole thing shuddered.  The mech looked like it was about to fire back, but the roof gave way.  It disappeared in the smoke, dust and fire.

The other signal blipped.  Both of them were decoys of some sort, Rob guessed, a signal dropped when they decided to move close.  They didn't look very tough, so likely they relied on deception and cover.  The other hadn't shown up, but Rob's computer warned him about another lock on.

He wheeled to the west gate, seeing another spider mech down the road where they came in earlier.  On visual contact, it sped away on wheels mounted on the legs, very quickly too.  Launches were detected and Rob jerked his mech behind the wall in the knick of time, the missiles colliding with his cover.  Rob felt a little confident.

Fernando felt the same, "That should be their last volley, should we start seeking and destroying?"

"They're going to draw us out and beat us like they did Angus.  Hold position and wait for an opening." He may have sounded calm, but Rob could sense frustration in Chancho's voice, Eventually he was going to snap too.  But he was right, they can't go running around like they did before.

Fernando kept his eye on the rubble, waiting for something to appear.  He loaded his weapon in the meantime, finger on the trigger.  When his target finally showed its face, it had already fired, cutting through the smoke.  Two red beams pinpointed directly onto Fernando's bazooka, melting the barrel, but thankfully missing the payload.

He swore and fired wildly with his remaining sub machine gun.  Bullets scattered across the road as they crept toward the spider mech.  It crawled from the rocks, taking a few hit before Chancho took a shot from his laser rifle.  One of the legs popped off and the whole mech lurched forward.

Things were less favourable on Rob's end.  The other spider mech was out of sight and there was still no sign of the Wulfen. And speak of the devil, he caught a distortion out of the corner of his monitor.  He hadn't the time to face the enemy and fire, but brought his right arm up to stop the flaring heat knife.

The knife pierced the armour and Rob could see the tip punch through the other side.  Armour burned bright red and molten metal dripped from Maui's arm.  The left hand went limp, the actuators probably being burnt out, which forced him to drop the Sweeper.  If he hadn't done that, it could've stabbed into the cockpit.

Before the Wulfen could retract the knife, Rob had an idea.  He wrenched his damaged arm up and forward, bending the Wulfen's knife arm outward. A small machine gun popped out of a hidden hatch on his free arm, blazing lead into the exposed joint.  After a few shots, Rob could feel the resistance of the Wulfen give way. Unable to defend or attack, the Wulfen pilot ejected, letting his mech slump and tilt backward, dragging the Maui along with it.  A solid tug freed the knife from the Maui's forearm, but the damage was done. Firing the Sweeper one handed would be a task due to the recoil.  He picked it back up anyway, it was his favourite gun after all.

"Wulfen's down, but I've taken some damage.  I dunno how much longer I can keep this up Chancho." He wiped his brow, his mech wasn't running hot, but this fight was getting to him. "We should just pick Angus up a and just run."

"Loxley isn't done, this is our job, Rob Roy." Chancho knew that using Rob's middle name got his attention. His parents were the same way. "Don't give up on me just yet.  We'll kill these bastards first. Just two more."

Chancho broke cover to get a better shot at the spider mech.  It was limping, having a difficult time traversing the rubble with one less leg.  Both of them fired at each other in the same instant, the red beams slicing up Regulators's shoulders.  The azure streak from Chancho's rifle was too low for a kill shot, cutting up the pavement and melting a rock.

Fernando followed, charging at it with both of his guns firing.  One clicked, empty, but the other still had some lead in it.  The shots tore up the spider mech and then another one of its legs slipped out from under it.  It collapsed, the pilot deciding it was high time to bail out.

"Make that one more."

Fernando scoffed, "There's no way he can take on all three of us."

"Alright, let's see if we can grab Angus.  I'll cover the door. Fernando, you look after Rob as he drags Angus back here."

Rob gulped, "I won't be able to fire back and I only have one good arm!"

"You just need one. Don't worry about returning fire.  Your legs still work, just grab'em and drag'em. You got this."

"And you got us. We don't miss. Often," Fernando joked as Quixote reloaded.

Rob looked out of the south gate.  Angus still hadn't moved or sent a message.  Maybe he was out cold, maybe he was dead, but it doesn't matter, he's their friend and they wouldn't leave him behind.  He would do the same for them.

The Maui got ready to run on Chancho's order, putting his shotgun aside.  The other two mechs braced themselves behind the wall.

"And. . . Go!"

Maui stomped out, it's legs pumping as fast as Rob could get them.  When he got close enough, he maneuvered the left arm to sweep down and grab the Highlander's good foot.  At least he thought it was the good foot, it was dark and he was also looking around for that last spider mech.  When the rest of the old Hyperion was pulled along, he let go of his held breath.

It was slower going back, he kept an even pace so as to not pull the entire leg out of its socket.  He was almost to the gate when his computer warned him of an incoming missile strike.  Rob was expecting the missiles to be arching over a building, but they came at him straight on to his south.

"You've got to be kidding me!" he shouted.  "I thought you said that was the last one!"

"I was wrong, sue me!  Invest in chaff, dammit!"  Fernando jumped the wall and soared over to Rob, spotting the spider mech.

Two of the three missiles met their mark on his torso, the other over shooting him and hitting the enclosure.  The Maui stumbled, but caught itself, but Rob's eye caught the heat indicator rising very, very quickly.  He flicked on the coolest flush, but nothing happened.  Fires had erupted inside his machine.

Behind him, Fernando tagged the last spider mech with a few shots, lighting it up in the shadow of a hablock.  One of his guns jammed, the other was shot out of his hand by one of the stealthy ACE's lasers.  He jumped closer, aiming to land right on top of it.  The metal spider jerked, attempting to dodge the attack.

He was just short, instead slamming into the road.  With his now free hand, he pulled his own heat knife from a shoulder dock.  His enemy had no hands to fight in melee with, so he was nigh defenceless.

With what little distance they had between the two of them, Chancho took a chance and fired once more.  He was starting to feel the heat from Regulators's core, it's heat sinks working overtime. A flash burned through the night, nearly taking off the mech's head.  It may have been a miss, but it left an opening for Fernando to exploit.  The heat knife stabbed into the upper torso, near the neck, melting its way through the light plating.  The spider struggled, then seized, a hatch bursting open and an ejection seat blasting out the back.  The enemy defeated, Fernado kicked it over out of spite, stomping its head into scrap.

In the excitement, Rob had passed into the complex and let go of the Highlander.  He immediately set the Maui into shutdown mode, allowing it time to cool off before it overheated completely.  A fire still roared out of his side, he would have to manually spray it down.  He was unsure about leaving the safety of his cockpit, however, they may be out of danger, but it was hard to tell in the middle of the night.

"Loxley here.  We have what we need and are heading out now."

Fernando had returned, one of the enemy laser cannons mag locked to his shoulder dock.  They cost him a bazooka and a gun and he was about to leave empty handed.

"About goddamn time.  Let's load up and get to that drop point."

A team from Loxley's troop who had been standing on the outside had already swarmed over the Highlander.  One of them, probably a techy, had popped the hatch and her medic friend looked inside.  He crawled in and in half a minute later they were pulling Angus out.

"How is he?" asked Chancho.

The ground medic answered, "Unconscious, but alive sir.  We'll take him in one of the 'pillar trucks."

"Take good care of him, make sure he comes out of this in one piece."

"What're we going to do with the Highlander?" Rob asked as he climbed out of the top of his Maui. "If what Loxley said is true, we can air lift it out of here.  Those trucks cannot carry it."

Chancho sighed, "We're going to have to leave it.  He'll be sore about it, but that's just how it's going to be-"

"Now way, forget it! You ain't leavin my pride n' joy!"

Rob was halfway down the access cable when he spotted Angus flailing on a stretcher.  He pushed one of the soldiers away and nearly tripped as he tried to get back to his ACE.  His anger may have been driving him, but he still wasn't in good shape.

"Either the Highlander is goin' or I'm stayin'!" He made it a few more steps before he fell to his knees in front of his mech's damaged leg. "Oh my darlin', what did they do to ya. . ."

Rob was nearly to the ground now and he jumped the remaining distance, running to his friend's side.  "Think we can get her up and running again?"

Angus rubbed his forehead, a visible goose egg had formed. "Well, she won't be winnin' any marathons anytime soon.  Maybe a brisk walk at best."

Loxley had comes out of the building, still in her white power suit, her troops behind her carryinga blank faced container.  "I can't have anything slowing us down, we will leave you behind."

Angus turned his head with the most disgusted look on his face, "Lady, you don't understand the bond between a pilot and their ACE.  It runs deep, like the love between-"

"Save it, robo-jock.  How long?"

He shrugged, "Should be able to walk as soon as I get her started. I'll need a hand getting up."

* * *

They were on the road again, going out the other side of the city.  Rob's fire was put out and Angus was keeping relative pace with the rest of the group.  They still had a bit of a jaunt before they could get to the rendezvous point, which kept everyone on their toes, Fernando and Chancho especially, keeping their eyes open for any other signs of pirate mechs.

Thankfully, they got there without a hitch.  No more missile launchers, no more ECM.  But when they crested the last hill until the next waypoint, they didn't see three walrus transports waiting for them.  Instead, they came face to face with an orbital vessel, a huge, oval shaped beast called a Narwhal.  It's large, frontal cargo door was wide open and a man stood standing at its lip, the fringes of his black long coat rippling in the wind.

The other Banditos were chatting among themselves about how bogus this looked before Chancho spoke up, "Loxley, this wasn't part of the plan."

Before she could answer, another voice interrupted their channel, "No, Mr. McPhearson, it's not.  Plans have changed."  He took something out of his mouth, a toothpick Chancho guessed, and tossed it aside.

"And who are you supposed to be?"

"The getaway driver.  Get on board before I decide to leave you here."  The man turned around and walked into the bright light of the cargo bay, disappearing from view.

"Loxley, what's this about?"

"It's alright, he works for us.  We're getting taken off planet."

"But that wasn't part of the deal. We get taken back to the city, get paid, go our separate ways, end of story."

Loxley's command truck shot ahead of them and went up the ramp, "It's no longer safe on Camilla, oue employer wants the item moved to a safe location.  In the meantime we can take you anywhere you want."

The Banditos liked that idea, but something seemed to be too true about it.  They all got to the ramp and Chancho started up it first.

"You sure about this, Chancho?" asked Angus.

"Probably better than getting left here with whatever pirates.  I don't see much of a choice. We're all in bad shape, so I think we should take what we can get.  I know you guys aren't jumping on board with me leading you, but I've managed to get us this far."

"Well," Fernando started, "if this is what you think is best, I'm with you."

Rob was surprised, given his attitude before.  Chancho may have pushed the chain of command on everyone, but they had to admit he's done alright.

Angus was next, "I don't think we could have come out alive if you didn't take charge, especially me.  Count me in."

"I'm in too," added Rob, "I don't want to be stuck on this rock with whatever is coming after us now."

Each Bandito in turn climbed on board, docking itself in its own berth.  There was no telling just what exactly awaited them in the future, where they would go or who they would meet, what enemy they would face.  It was exciting and nerve wracking at the same time.

One thing was for sure: they would face it together, no matter the odds.