Footsteps clacked along the catwalk behind the wall’s crenelations. Penelope lead her squad to the objective with a grim silence. Tin Can’s far perimeter sensors had triggered. Something was out in the desert.
The defensive wall was always manned. Teams operated gun emplacements at regular checkpoints, and foot squads walked along the top at predictable intervals. But for an incident like this, higher-level investigation was required. Penelope had volunteered to assess the threat from the point on the wall closest to the direction of the report. Despite herself, she felt tense. The readings were both concerning and vague.
She pulled out her binoculars. They were a heavily customized digital device with a rangefinder, toggleable optical filters, and even a Cyberspace node viewer interface. The device’s housing was mostly a rectangular prism, but there were irregular protrusions and buttons here and there. She pressed the eye cups to her face. Guided by the signatures of the sensors far out in the sands, she pointed the device in the direction of the disturbance. She adjusted the optical focus dial.
What she saw made her pause. She muttered to herself, “No way.”
“What is it, Pen?”
The woman looked back at her squad.
“Group of Neo Arcadians. Desert-configuration Pantheons and two officer Reploids. They’ve been engaged by… by Zero.”
It was a few minutes later. The explosion echoed across the desert for miles as the fireball churned upwards into the sky. Zero peeked up from his prone position. The enemy was dead. He’d caused the larger Reploid’s core to overload, and then shoved the injured smaller Reploid against him. They’d been more or less vaporized and sent directly to Hell by the blast. Gingerly, he got up into a crouching position. Opening his cloak, he inspected himself. His injuries hadn’t been worsened in the skirmish. Good. He poked at the shrapnel stuck in his shoulder plating. The dull soreness roared up to full on inflammation. He withdrew his hand.
A noise drew his attention.
Tires in the sand. Offroad vehicle. Old civilian model of a military truck, possibly. Electrical, likely directly Energen-powered.
He looked in the direction of the noise. Sure enough, an old open-topped truck was approaching him, kicking up dust. It was desert tan, with a wildflower stenciled on the side. There was a cannon of some sort mounted on a swivel in front of the bed.
Energy emitter muzzle, thick cable likely connected to an out-of-sight Energen reserve and converter device.
The occupants didn’t seem to carry a hostile demeanor. The one manning the cannon was aiming it into the distance, likely scanning the horizon for threats. Their uniforms didn’t look Neo Arcadian. If anything, they were not too different from the Resistance garb. Zero felt a pang of regret, being reminded of them.
Inevitably, the truck approached and slowed to a stop. He looked up apprehensively at the driver. She smiled at him. “Zero. You’re a sight for sore eyes. We were driving out to back you up, but… Obviously, you handled it, heh. Come on, we’ll take you back to town. Catch up, get you patched up.”
The gunner commented, “Yeah, you look like you’ve seen better days, hah.”
Zero tensed. He didn’t grab his saber from his belt, but he made ready to, just in case. “Do you people know me?”
The woman’s calm demeanor shifted to confusion. “Zero, it’s me. Penelope. It’s been a while, but you’ve helped us out before. We all kept in touch with you for a while, until you disappeared. We didn’t even know you were back… Hell, we’d have reached out if we’d known.”
The warrior’s tension dissipated. “…Sorry. I was in hibernation for a long time. I don’t remember anything from before, but I’ve been fighting Neo Arcadia since I woke up.”
Penelope winced. “Damn. Well, look, you’re not doing yourself any good out here. Come on back and we’ll reconnect.”
She patted the passenger seat beside her. Silently, Zero obliged, climbing up into the truck. Once he was secured, she turned the vehicle around and they sped back from where we came. He asked, “Where are you taking me?”
The woman pointed towards the central tower, rising out of the desert haze. A hyacinth flower matching the one on the truck was painted on its side. “Our home. Town called Tin Can.”