37) --- Wedgitations -------------------------------------------------- "In the beginning, there was the Institute. And it was Good. It was even tuition-free in those days. And the Institute built two fine dormitories, Morgan and Daniels Halls. And there was clear road between them. Then there was the Wedge." -- Robert Mandeville Philip and company had apparently chosen an _outlying_ parking lot; it took them about 10 minutes of false turns until they finally got to the Quad by using the bell tower as an orienteering reference. But finally, they stepped onto the stone in the center, and Philip looked around. "Now, if this is the Quad... Then that over there is Alden...and _there_, between Morgan and Daniels, is the WEDGE!" he proclaimed, turning and pointing as if held by a vision. The group looked at the building. "You know, I never thought I'd see a building as weird as some of the ones at CMU," Trevor stated. "I see now that I was wrong." "Come my friends, the promised land awaits!" Philip exclaimed as he led the way. Philip strode through the airlock leading from the Quad into the Wedge, Aerianne and company following in his melodramatic wake. He stopped, surveying the landscape. "Phil, there's nobody here..." stated Trevor flatly. "No, there _is_," he replied, looking around at the Wedge Wall, the doors leading down to the Lower Wedge, as well as the Wedgebooths. And there, he saw them. Two people, male, upperclassmen by the looks of it, engaged in a conversation of some kind. They apparently had totally missed Philip's dramatic entrance. He approached them, and the bearded one looked up. And stared. And then looked at his companion and said, "Vaughn, do you have anything to do with this?" "Yes! At last! I finally found you!" Philip exclaimed, and immediately got on his knees and began to bow and scrape. Zoner glanced at Vaughn with a who-the-hell-is-_this_-guy? look, while Vaughn just shrugged. Trevor had his head in his hands and was muttering something about "why me. why me." Rufus had a quizzical expression, while Gordo just smiled his Smile(tm). Aerianne, who was standing next to Philip at the time, had a half bemused/half annoyed look. She was no stranger to this behavior. Once Philip finished his prerequisite homage to people-who-are- awesome-in-his-eyes and got up again, Vaughn asked the obvious question. "Morning! How's life?" he greeted the newcomers. "And who are you?" Zoner added, looking at the... "Unique" group assembled before him. "Well, _he's_ the fanboy," Trevor commented, pointing towards Philip. "_That_ much was obvious," Zoner smiled, despite the strange look Philip shot towards Trevor. "But I was thinking more in the way of _names_?" he queried. "Well, _I'm_ Philip, they guy in the lab jacket is Rufus, the guy wearing the selection from the Gryphon collection is Trevor, Aeri's wearing the trenchcoat, and Gordo's the one--" "--Wearing the power armor, yeah, I sorta guessed that," Zoner commented. After the introductions were finished, Philip, Zoner, Vaughn, and Aerianne got to talking about Life, the Universe, Anime, and Undocumented Features. Rufus took to trying to log on to his wam account using one of the terminals in the gweepery.z (and he was doing quite well), and Gordo walked down into the Lower Wedge to see what he could see. Trevor, on the other hand, was getting bored. Although he had heard about this "UF" from Philip, he hadn't really gotten into it yet (or more likely, couldn't find the time to read it and get addicted). So, he wandered about the Wedge for a while, pausing every once in a while to insert a comment into Philip's monologue, flirt with one of the (_very_ few) GLOGs in the Wedge, or just talk with any of the other Wedge Rats who had decided that going home for break really wasn't worth it. As he was reaching his n-1th loop around the Wedge, his tounge decided that it wanted a drink. Not being one to deny his tounge, he made his way to the soda machine and tried to order a soda. The machine spat out his dollar bill. Trevor tried again. Trevor straightened the bill out, and tried again. By this time, Trev was getting ticked, and he tried to insert the bill _once_ again, this time with a few choice words that are unprintable here. Gordo came over. "What seems to be the problem?" "The blasted machine's not taking my dollar, and I don't have any change," Trevor grumbled. Gordo smiled. "Allow me." He stepped up to the soda machine. He gave it a quick look over, and then lifted his right arm. He tilted his wrist forward, and with a SHICK!, a foot long spike of metal extended from the back of his arm. He inserted it into the dollar slot, and was rewarded with the sound of Dews dropping down into the slot at the bottom. "Nice trick," Trevor commented, eyes wide. By this time, a small group had assembled in the Wedge and were just milling about and Wedgitating. They didn't pay any extreme attention to the person talking at warp two or the guy in power armor, because they had seen stranger things in their lifetimes. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm hungry," commented Aerianne as she came over to the booth where Philip, Zoner, and Vaughn were discussing alternate realities, starships, fictional beings, and other strange stuff. As per usual, Philip was doing about three-quarters of the talking, speaking at his usual 40-words-a-minute-because-I'm- really-excited rate. "How about DAKA?" Philip asked as a suggestion. "Nope," Megazone replied, finally able to get a word in edgewise. "Why not?" Zoner turned to look at Philip. "Two reasons. One is: because this is Break, and DAKA is closed; and Two is: because if it _were_ open, would you _really_ want to eat there?" Philip thought this over for a second, and then shook his head negatively. "That's what I thought." Trevor lowered his eyes as a faint rumble arose from his stomach. "Anyone for food?" he mumbled. Noting that no one had heard him, he stated a little louder, "Does anyone else want food?" However, Philip's volume (he talked loud when he got excited) once again drowned out his somewhat-muted voice. "WHO'S HUNGRY??" And there was silence. And then there were hands. Lots of hands. In fact, just about everybody seemed to be hungry. Suddenly, there arose a well-used and well-loved cry from all assembled, a cry that all who are or who have ever been in college are familiar with: "TECH!" Followed by a chorus of "Huh?" from those who didn't know. "Good suggestion; you do that," Zoner said. "What the hell is 'Tech?'," Trevor queried. Philip replied in a stage whisper, "It's a pizza place, Trev....." Ten minutes had passed, and Tech Pizza was on its way with two plain pizzas, one pepperoni, and one pineapple. (hey, if Trevor was ordering, he was going to get some pineapple pizza, dammit.) Aerianne was bored. "Anyone got a good idea for killing time?" Trevor pulled a deck of cards from his leather jacket. "Anyone for cards?" An unknown Wedge Rat suggested as he pulled two objects from his backpack. "How about boffa combat?" "Boffa daggers... How quaint!" Aerianne said in a scottish accent. Philip snickered. Trevor raised an eyebrow at this. "What do you mean, quaint?" Trevor said as the Rat handed him a dagger. Trevor and Aerianne both stood up. Trevor removed his jacket and Aerianne her trenchcoat. Trevor saw, for the first time, the katana hanging from Aerianne's belt. He whistled in appreciation. "Nice..." Aerianne's face flared. "Excuse me, but I'm taken!" "The sword! I was talking about the sword! Geez... (not that it's ever stopped me before, but...)" Was that a drop of blood at Trevor's nose? A clang rang through the Wedge as Aerianne unstrapped the sword and sheath and put them onto a nearby table. "Shall we dance?" she said with an evil grin, as she raised her dagger in a salute, and they began to duel. "Let's..." Trevor said as the two of them started circling. All of a sudden, Aerianne began a series of quick thrusts and swipes that took Trevor totally by surprise. Moving back to keep away from the blade, he then feinted left before dodging in to try to attack. But Aeri's blade was ready and waiting, and she blocked it with a THWOK! And then it was her turn to attack again... The rest of the combat between Trevor and Aerianne is not really worth the trouble of writing here. Suffice it to say, Trevor got his ass kicked. "Uncle, alright? Uncle!" Trevor said as Aerianne held the boffa dagger to his throat. Although he knew the weapon couldn't actually slice-n-dice him, it was the principle of the thing. Aerianne reached down and picked up Trevor's discarded dagger with a soft, almost alluring "There can be only one." "Ok, Philip, _your_ turn," said Aerianne as she tossed the dagger to him. "me?" Philip asked in a small voice. Aerianne just nodded, her eyes smiling. "Here comes that deja-vu feeling..." He picked up the dagger, and the game began anew. Philip's life flashed before him for a split second; then all his thoughts were directed towards preventing Aerianne from eviscerating him with the foam dagger. Admittedly, having been with Aerianne for some time now, Philip realized that having some combat experience would be a good idea. That was why he had made friends with Steve Albain, a fencing club member in his honors class (coincidentally, the same guy they'd watched "The Princess Bride" with). The only problem was that Aerianne had made friends with him as well. And that she had been able to go to more meetings than Philip could attend.... Philip weaved across the Wedge, blocking and dodging, the combat curiously silent except for the sound of dagger against dagger. He ducked behind one of the columns, then did something extremely sneaky; he kept the pillar between himself and Aeri. She couldn't get eyes on him for the life of her; it was as if he had disappeared. Then he reversed the direction of his travel around the pillar, climbed onto one of the Wedge trash barrels, and attempted to sweep the dagger in a great sweep in order to tap Aerianne between the shoulder blades. At least, that was what he _attempted_. It didn't turn out that way. As it turned out, Philip's mass was more than Gryphon's, and as he swept the dagger around to make contact, his mass and his height (as well as his precarious footing on the trash can) conspired with gravity against him, causing the can (and Philip) to topple to the Wedge floor with a KRASH!!! The duel having abruptly ended, Aerianne casually made her way over to Philip's side. She leaned over to pick up Philip's dagger, and softly asked him, "Do you concede?" Philip, still sprawled on the floor, grumbled "Yeah, yeah, I concede. Yeesh," he continued as Aeri pulled him up off the floor. "This sort of thing never happens in the fanfics." "I've got news for you, Philip: This isn't a fanfic." Philip smiled. "Quite frankly, I wouldn't have it any other way." "Anyone here order pizza?" said the pizza guy as he entered the Wedge. "Yeah, we did," Zoner stated from a Wedgebooth. "Trevor, pay the man," Philip added. Trevor did a double-take. "What?" "You heard me..." Philip continued. "No way. Uh-uh." "Come on, Trevor," said Aerianne as she sidled up to him. "You _are_ treating us out, aren't you?" "Now wait a minnit. This isn't fair! She does that seduction thing too well!" "Now, now, Aeri, that's not nice," Philip Smirked(tm) from a Wedgebooth. Zoner glanced at him for a second, and then returned his attention to Aerianne and Trevor. Trevor was trying (unsuccessfully) to resist Aeri's feminine wiles, and eventually he bowed under the pressure, and paid the delivery guy. The people there then got down to the serious task of noshing pizza. 38) --- Power Lunch --------------------------------------------------- "We were having lunch -- One restaurant, three mafia staff cars outside, a good bunch of thugs inside, and all the bullets you could eat..." -- Daniel Dukke Gordo was the one to notice it first. "Excuse me, Philip," Gordo said as they were eating pizza. "But if you look out the window on heading 135, you should find something of import." "Huh?" asked Philip, still chewing a piece of pizza. He turned to look out the window. Trevor did the same, and didn't see anything out of the ordinary, just clouds, birds, and trees. "Nothing's there, Gordo," commented Trevor. "Yes there _is_," stated Philip, quickly finishing the slice he was holding. "Are you getting the same readings I'm getting?" he asked as he began to get up and out of his seat. "If you are receiving between 20 and 30 bogies, then I believe you are," said the quasi-cyborg as he got up from his seat as well. "Khest! Rufus, Aeri, get the truck here as fast as possible. Trev, clean up and join us outside as soon as you can!" And with that Philip and Gordo ran out of the Wedge, narrowly avoiding an oncoming Wedge Rat. "Huh?" asked Trevor as Aeri and Rufus got up as well. Outside, Philip and Gordo stood scanning the sky, trying to get a better estimate on the approaching fleet. "Hold on, they're coming within visual range," Philip said as he squinted, triggering the [zoom] function on his glasses. He watched as the onboard cameras locked onto one jet and tracked with it as it flew. The nanocomp ID'd the intruder. VEHICLE TYPE: MIG-21 CREW: 1 TOP SPEED: MACH 2.1 "MiG-21's? We're fighting the Soviets?" Philip blinked. "I do not believe so, given the breakup of the USSR." "Then who?" he said, as he zoomed on the tail of the jet. A red star was painted there. "Well, whoever they are, they're _definitely_ hostile," he stated as he read the plane's ordinance off his glasses. ARMAMENT: 1 23MM GSH-23 GUN 4 HARDPOINTS - VARIOUS MISSILES PROBABLE MISSILES: 75% AA-2 ATOLL REAR-ASPECT INFRARED 23% AA-8 APHID ALL-ASPECT INFRARED 02% AA-7 APEX ACTIVE RADAR "Philip?" asked Aerianne, approaching him. "Huh?" Philip replied, still distracted by the situation. (Well, hey, wouldn't _you_?) "The truck's about 10 minutes away, and Trevor's still got the keys." "Ah. Problem." "No it isn't," said Rufus with a smile as he pulled out what appeared to be a garage-door opener, but with more buttons. He pointed the opener in the general direction of the truck, and then pressed a a button on it. In the parking lot, the RF signal reached the Suburban's passive sensor suite. The signal activated the onboard computers, and the starter cranked up the engine with a roar while the active radar plotted out the quickest path to the signal it received. The shifter on the steering column suddenly moved of it's own free will, and the steering wheel turned as the truck suddenly backed out of its space, and shifted to [(D)] as it accelerated. It lurched forward as it sped towards WPI, ignoring the roads that had so nicely been laid out for its use. Back at the Wedge, Trevor was looking confused as the other Wedge Rats watched Philip and company race outside. "Are your friends always like this?" asked Zoner as he looked through the Wedge windows at the four. "For Philip, I'd have to say 'yeah'; as for the others, I wouldn't really know." He sighed, wondering if Philip was even worrying about the impression he was making, and shrugging on his jacket, made his way out of the airlock. "Philip, we're going to have to talk about this... RUFUS!" Trevor came outside just in time to see the Suburban-From-Heck come to a screeching stop, bare inches from turning Rufus into roadkill. "Yes?" replied Rufus nonchalantly. Trevor watched as the doors on the Suburban popped open of their own accord, and the four Marylanders set to work pulling out stuff from behind the back seats. "Did you know this was going to happen? 'Cause if you did, I wish you had told me," he asked as Philip and Rufus helped Gordo put a large, blocky jetpack onto the back of his armored form. (In fact, it matched the style of his armor quite well.) "Nope, we didn't know about it until you did," Rufus said as he made the final connections, and replaced Gordo's left gauntlet with a weapons unit. He turned to put on his own CVR, while Aerianne was getting ready to get into hers. Trevor stared. "Trevor, will you _turn around_?" she exclaimed as she was taking off her sweater, revealing a tight blue bodysuit beneath. Trevor did no such thing, opting instead to imitate Mackie Stingray. "Philip," she sighed in disgust, "Will you _please_ calm down Trevor's raging hormones?" "Certainly," Philip said, as he locked himself into the custom hardsuit that he had designed. He walked over to Trevor, who was _still_ staring, and said in a menacing voice, "Either do as Aerianne says, or you'll never have to worry about your hormones _again_." As if to punctuate his point, he deployed the twin Damascus Blades that were mounted on the back of his arms. "Okayokayokay!" Trevor said, backing off and turning around. "Good... Oh, you might want to put this on while you're waiting," Philip said, handing him a duffel bag filled with CVR. "Gee, thanks," Trevor muttered as Philip turned to help Aerianne. "Um... Phil?" Trevor asked. "Yeah?" "If we're going into _battle_, where are the _weapons_ on that thing?" "Rufus?" Rufus, now in his iridescent-green CVR, walked over to Trevor, who was trying to get into his. Showing the remote to him, he pressed a button labeled [KICK ASS MODE]. The Suburban shuddered for a moment, and then several panels and orifices opened up as the flight systems also came online. Trevor's eyes widened. "_Nice_ touch," was all he could say as two large barrels deployed themselves from the back sides of the Suburban. At about this time, Aerianne was finishing the final connections of the SSSIVA augmentation packs to the CVR that she was wearing. They would give her flight capability, as well as enhanced armor protection and more weapons at her command. A pair of missile pods on the thighs, a set of rear turret lasers, and a set of shoulder launched missiles would make death and destruction a personal problem for the enemy. A thruster pack for each leg and for her back completed the ensemble. "You ready?" asked Philip as he secured his helmet and brought the in-helmet projection system online. Rufus and Gordo had already climbed into the Suburban, and Trevor was just finishing securing his armor. "Hold on, just one more thing..." She picked up something, and locked it onto her right SSSIVA gauntlet. "Aerianne, what is _that_?" Philip and Trevor asked simultaneously. "Oh just a little bit of feminine protection," she commented as she connected the long, black cannon into her flightpack. "Ok, let's GO!" she exclaimed as she hopped into the Suburban and slammed the door closed. "You heard the lady, Trev; let's MOVE IT!" Philip yelled as he got in and slammed the opposite door. "Ohhhkaayyy.." Trevor said as he opened the driver's side door, closed it, and accelerated off of the Quad. 39) --- Suburban Commandos -------------------------------------------- "Outnumbered, yes. Outgunned, maybe. Outclassed, NEVER!" -- DigiCom, OTAKU RISING II "Hey, Phil?" Trevor asked as they climbed for altitude. "Yeah?" he replied, checking his weapons status on his HUD. "Where are the weapon _controls_?" Philip leaned over from the middle of the back seat and pointed out controls. "OK. This trigger on the wheel _here_ is for the M-134 miniguns behind the grille; _this_ trigger is for the paired Supertrooper laser/ maser cannons on the sides; the switches in the center console," he said as he opened the box between the captain's chairs and locked it open, "are for selecting the AIM-9M all-aspect heat-seeking Sidewinders and/or the AGM-114A Hellfire laser guided missiles. _This_ trigger launches the selected missile(s) at the selected target(s). You've also got Roadkiller mines, but they won't really help you. The HUD will give you all the necessary flight data, as well as targeting info and lock-on indication for your weapons, as well as alerting you to our locations as well as the enemy's. "In other words Trev, 'Don't shoot at us, we're the GOOD GUYS!'" Philip said with a smile, although no one could see it through his hardsuit's helmet. "Ok, everyone ready?" he asked, turning. They nodded, although Trevor's nod was hesitant. "Ok, seal helmets, and prepare for drop! 5..4..3..2..1..GO!" He pressed a button on the back of the "pilot's" seat and the back doors popped open. "Banzai!" Aerianne exclaimed as she jumped out of the Suburban. "'And Awayyy we go!'" Gordo gleasoned as he tumbled out of the truck. "Wozniak!" Philip yelled as he pushed out and activated his jets. "Wozniak?" asked Rufus, still in his CVR. Trevor shrugged, and then turned his attention to learning-combat-flying-by-doing. "R-r-red 1," the squadron leader called into his helmet comm system with about the fakest Russian accent you've ever heard, "take r-red 2 an-d t-ree to disable deir leeder." "Aye komrade," was the reply. "Gold group, try to take out deir wessel." Gold 2 suddenly piped up. "Is it nuclear? Oh, pleez, *pleez* say it's nuclear. I've always wanted to take out a nuclear wessel..." Rufus looked up. "We got bogies coming in at 1:30." Trevor, who was trying (despite immense odds) to keep a sense of humor about all this, glanced at his watch and commented, "Well, then, we got plenty of time before they -- " "WE'RE UNDER ATTACK, YOU SCHMUCK," Aeri's voice replied over their commnet. Sheepish? Yeah, I guess you could say Trevor looked sheepish. Baah. "Alright," he said, getting down to business. "What're we fightin' here?" Rufus squinted a little, looking through his glasses, and replied, "I have no idea. Gordo, patch in to the Suburban's camera systems. Take a look at Camera 2 and tell me if you know what the hell those are." The reply came back after a couple of seconds. "Yes, Rufus, I do indeed 'know what the hell those are.'" In the excitement of the moment, though, Gordo forgot to _tell_ Rufus what the hell they were. "Philip, are you aware that we seem to be fighting flying rodent mammals of the genus Martes?" "Huh?" "If you examine the cockpit of the next aircraft you encounter, you will see what I am describing." Philip, acting on Gordo's advice, flew over to another plane and landed on it on all fours. He moved towards the cockpit, deployed his blades, and sliced the hinges and latches off of the canopy. He moved to one side as the canopy was torn off the fighter, and looked inside. "We're fighting flying WEASELS?" he exclaimed as he pulled the furry brown pilot out of the cockpit. The plane began to fall, due to the lack of a controlling intelligence, and Philip jumped off, taking the pilot with him. "Actually, the correct term for this species is the Russian sable." "Ok... If we're fighting sables, let's see how they like being _skinned_." With that thought, Philip targeted another fighter. BC LAUNCHER SELECTED -- TARGETING -- TARGET LOCKED 15 PROJECTILES ARMED AND READY >>>LAUNCHING<<< Philip's left arm straightened, and from one of the pods, what looked to be flechette rounds (or maybe shrapnel) rocketed out of the pod towards the fighter. The pilot saw it coming, and dodged, since most flechettes once fired don't change course, right? Wrong. With a chilling howl, the dime-sized ion drives in the individual projectiles activated, and steered them towards the jet, who at this time didn't know what was going on. They flew in close, and proceeded to slice the outer hull from the fighter, reducing its aerodynamics immensely. Once that was done, they came around for another pass, and sliced the canopy off. And for the Coupe-de-Gracie, they homed in on the pilot and shaved him. Needless to say, the sight of one of their own being brutalized drove the sables into a frenzy. Many of them remembered the horrors of the cap camps and they were not about to let that happen again. As if one entity, the lead wing of enemy planes locked onto Philip's form and fired. Philip's eyes widened. This did _not_ look good. The battle was joined; Gordo couldn't have been happier. With a howl of delight, he thrusted towards one of the enemy planes. A look of confused amusement came over the pilot of the plane that Gordo had chosen as his target; it wondered. As the sable's face twisted into a sneer, he accelerated, attempting to run Gordo over. Now, at this point you might expect that Gordo and the MIG would collide, at which point both would halt in midair as Gordo stopped the MIG in mid-flight. In fact, this was what Gordo was planning to do. Well, Gordo -did- collide with the MIG. Pity he didn't manage to stop it, though. His jetpack and armor was way underclassed, and were unable to even -try- to provide the thrust and leverage needed to stop the fighter. Instead, Gordo hit the leading edge of the wing and bounced up and over it as the jet blasted by. Disoriented, Gordo tumbled end-over-end as the sable left him in his jetwash. In desperation, Gordo grabbed onto whatever he could reach in order to stop his spin. What he ended up grabbing onto was the MIG's tail as the jet flew past. "What the --?!" exclaimed the pilot as he quickly turned his head to glance at Gordo desperately holding on for dear life. He then smiled as he punched the afterburner and began to fly wildly in hopes shaking Gordo off and into the jet's exhaust. Gordo hung on by his gauntleted right hand as the sable pilot executed a dizzying series of turns-and-burns. His blood rushed to his feet as his body threatened to black out. His free arm moved wildly, in an attempt to grab onto the wing as well, but Gordo had forgotten at this point that his left gauntlet had been replaced with a weapons housing. Therefore, as he clenched his hand inside it (in hopes of grabbing on), his hand managed to press all the triggers inside at once. The weapons gauntlet went off, spraying autocannon rounds all over the MIG-21's fuselage. Several went into the wings, puncturing the fuel tanks, while others shot into the engine core and a few grazed the cockpit. Some even managed to penetrate the connection between the tail and the rest of the jet, weakening it severely. A few seconds later, the sound of rending metal told Gordo that it was about time for him to bail. He did so, and just in time to watch the tail rip free of the jet. The MIG began to lose altitude, fast. Trevor winced in sympathy with the soon-to-be-grounded sable pilot. "Ooh," he murmured. "No more wit' the booms. Don't wit' the booms make..." Philip ducked (well, 'lowered his altitude' for the literalists out there, but bear with me here...) as three missiles flew over his head. He had about 0.263 seconds to sigh in relief before he noticed them swinging around for another pass. "Someone," he called over the comm-net, "Save Me???!!!! PLEEEEEEEEEEASE???????????" Trevor called back, "On it," as he steered the Suburban towards the three planes following Philip. "Oh yeah," he was commenting to himself, "three professional Russian planes against a Chevy truck. Oh, this'll be no problem. No problem at all. Someone remind me how I got myself into this mess..." "MISSILES! I MEANT THE MISSILES!" Trevor sighed. Why were visions of a bad Marx Brothers routine coming to mind? "Hey Rufus," he said as they changed course to trail the missiles, "how we doing with the weapon systems on this thing?" Rufus was busying himself with his link to the Suburban and only had the spare processing time to murmur a quick "Stand by" before he re-immersed himself with the weapons. "Rufus," Trevor said, trying to remain calm, "our friend is out there, trying to keep from getting an unannounced enema from a Sidewinder missile, and all you can say is STAND BY?!?!" "Actually," came Gordo's voice over the comm-net, "MiG-21's are not equipped with Sidewinder missiles. Those missiles are probably AA-2 Atoll class. They are, actually, a pretty close equivalent to the Sidewi -- " "Thank you Mr. Data," Trevor replied through clenched teeth. "Why," Aerianne muttered to herself, "am I stuck with amateurs?" Rufus suddenly lifted his head and looked out the front window. "Wait for missile lock." Trevor was suddenly all serious. (Not a very common occurrence, but what the hell?) "How long?" "15 seconds. Those missiles are fast." "We've got lasers, right?" "Yeah. Armed and ready." The glint of an idea formed in Trevor's mind. He steered the truck towards Philip. "Philip, start flying straight ahead." "WHAT?! I CAN'T OUTRUN THOSE THINGS!!" "That's OK, you don't have to." As Philip straightened out his flight plan, the missiles did likewise and flew straight at Philip. Flew, in fact, straight through the field of laser fire Trevor inserted in front of them. Two of them ignited instantly. As the third missile bore down on Philip, it was suddenly shredded by a burst of laser fire from the opposite direction. Aerianne's laser cannon slowly stopped smoking. "Can we stop playing now and start worrying about those planes?" Philip and Trevor simultaneously replied "Yes dear." Aeri spun around in mid-air and targeted her missiles at the three closest planes. She paused just long enough to get a dependable lock, then fired. One of the missiles found a plane's wing, which started smoking as it headed towards the ground. The pilot ejected and, as its parachute opened, floated safely towards the ground. Safely, that is, until a short burst of automatic laser fire turned the parachute into confetti. The other two planes swerved, however, and evaded the missiles. "Damn," Aeri muttered to herself and accelerated to attack speed. Trevor let out his best Han Solo "Yee-hoo!" impression as the Suburban flew through the blast cloud of what was a MiG. Rufus didn't seem to appreciate his flying style. "Where's our next target, Chewie?" The look on Rufus's face practically screamed "Duh?" "The next plane. Where's the next plane?" "Bearing 180 from our current posit -- " "6 o'clock, Rufus. Just say '6 o'clock.'" "But you didn't understaAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!" Rufus's defense was cut short as Trevor flipped the truck upside down in order to change direction. When he had realigned the truck roughly with how Chevy had designed it (minus the flying part), and Rufus had regained his breath, Trevor said, "Get a lock on that plane." His voice had changed slightly, but Rufus hadn't known him long enough to notice it; it was a bit more deadly, a bit more bloodthirsty. Philip knew it, however, and didn't like it. "Trevor, you ok in there?" The smile came back to Trevor's face, but it had more of a smirk look to it. "Just fine, Phil. Still with you. If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, don't worry. Paladin's gone. Forever." Rufus, having given up on this conversation a long time ago, reported that the requested lock had indeed been established. Trevor didn't respond, just maneuvered the truck so it was headed straight for the plane. Rufus's eyes grew wide as they headed straight for the enemy, getting close enough to see the panicked look on the pilot's face that mirrored Rufus's quite nicely, thank you. Wordlessly, Trevor hit the launch button for the missile, then pulled out before his adversary could launch an attack of its own. As the target exploded, Trevor turned to Rufus and, flashing his eyes at him to complete the effect, explained, "It's all in the wrist, friend." It was all Rufus could do to whimper. He was going to HAVE to talk to Philip about personnel reassignments... "DIE, damn you!" cursed Aerianne as yet another MiG dodged her blasts. She was trying to save on missiles by using her arm cannon, but she was learning the hard way that it's _hard_ to aim an energy cannon when you're flying. "Stay still!" she yelled, firing shot after shot. Finally losing patience, she reached over and shifted the power/ width indicator from [CLIFFJUMPER] through [OPTIMUS] to [MEGATRON]. The cannon built up charge, and as one MiG flew into her sights, she fired. <<>> The MiG was immolated instantly. So was the extreme left end of Daniels Hall. Aerianne was thrown upwards by the blast (Newton At Work!), and adjusted to compensate. "What the _fuck_ was that?" asked Trevor eloquently over the tacnet, as he strafed another MiG, wounding it. "Hey, Kei!" Philip said as he pursued a jet. "Nice shootin'!" "*Don't* *Call* *Me* *KEI*!" Aeri yelled as she aimed the cannon at him. It started to glow. "Nevermind!" he squeaked, ducking out of the way. "Good," she smiled over the comm, and she turned to reduce another enemy plane to something resembling charred ash. Philip mused to himself as he reduced the fighter he was following to something resembling swiss cheese. Aeri fired a few more times at full power, obliterating two more fighters until she had to stop. The cannon was an _incredible_ drain on the SSSIVA's flightpack; the last time she fired it caused a temporary systems shutdown, causing the flight pack to go offline. "I don't think this was in the game plaaaaannnnnnnnn," Aeri complained as she headed towards the ground. Everyone has a trigger, a stimulus that drives us to heretofore- unseen behavior. Something that brings out the hero, the foolhardy saviour that exists somewhere deep inside each and every one of us. Philip Jeremy Moyer, as he watched Aerianne plummet towards the loving, if slightly dangerous, Mother Earth, felt his trigger being pulled. Click. "Your problem," Jean-Luc Picard's words reverberated in his mind, "is that you really _do_ have a sense of honor. Don't blame me for knowing you so well." He ignited his thrusters, ignoring the thoughts of his mentor, and spread his jetwings, engaging in an eagle-dive to rescue Aerianne. His HUD flashed >WARNING< in response to his rapidly diminishing altitude, but he paid no heed. His entire being was focused on catching his girlfriend. His subconscious, however, noted that he'd have to lower the volume in his helmet, because he was going to have one heck of a headache when this was all over. Individual air molecules didn't even have time to move, and were sliced in two by Philip's wings as he descended on the apparently lifeless form of Aerianne. (I know, it's a neat trick, isn't it?) His arms reached out and grabbed her just as she was about to get up- close-and-personal with the roof of Morgan Hall. Philip was suddenly snapped back to reality as he reversed direction to avoid the fate he so narrowly saved her from. [And we _do_ mean snapped; he's going to have the _worst_ case of whiplash tomorrow morning... -Eds.] Aerianne let out a gasp as her downward motion was suddenly halted. she thought as she began to rise again up to the battle. But her thrusters _weren't_ online yet; her HUD still said she had about 30 seconds until the powerplant would be up to full strength. She looked down, and saw metal-clad hands holding her under her knees and back; looking up, she saw a familiarly helmeted head. "Philip?" she asked somewhat hesitantly. The helmet turned to regard her, and the commnet crackled to life. "Aerianne! Are you alright?!" Philip's voice echoed clearly in her ear. Aeri nodded, and then added gently "Thanks. I owe you one, Philip." "Just consider it payback for saving my skin earlier," he bantered for the first time during this entire battle. Aerianne laughed, and played along. "Well, I'll be sure to make you pay in _full_ later..." Both of them smiled, though neither could see it. "You ready?" Philip asked as they reached battle altitude. "You _bet_!" she exclaimed as she jumped out of his arms. Her jets immediately sprung to life, and she was airborne once again. "You know," Philip commented offhandedly as they flew into the battle. "What?" Aeri answered, just as offhandedly. Apparently, Philip's confidence had returned, and she was curious at what he was going to propose. "WE'd probably have more success if we teamed up. Whaddaya say?" "I like the way you think. Let's do it!" Aerianne said as she gave him a thumbs-up. The two of them accelerated towards a MiG. The sable pilot blinked as two bogies flew into his sights. But before he could get a perfect lock, the two were upon him and had split up; one above and one below. The pilot shifted in his seat, trying to see what the one above was doing. He watched as the cloven-footed figure pulled back both it's arms, and then drive them forward onto the plane. Dull CHOOOM!s echoed through the cockpit as the guns in the suited figure's hands fire upon contact with the hull. At the same time, unseen to the pilot, the other figure had shot along the underside of the plane, and had allowed its rear lasers to go to work, peppering the fuselage with laser bolts. It let the plane fly past, and soon the first figure joined it as the jet lost altitude and fell towards the lake. Philip and Aerianne exchanged a high-five in midair, and then turned and said "Ok, NEXT!" "The battle does not go well," observed Ray in his underground HQ. An aerial view of the battle was being transmitted from one of the sable's wing cameras, but before it could get a really good picture, it was destroyed, and the techs scurried to get another image. "No _KIDDING_!" exclaimed the figure who was standing next to him. Or more precisely, hovering. "That's what you get for using amatures," he muttered, disgusted. "You would seem to be correct. It is time for you to use your talents to deal with these... pests. Go. Destroy them." The figure smiled, a terrible thing, and flew off to cause chaos and destruction. The fact that there was about 100 floors and about 50 feet of dirt between him and the surface didn't bother him one bit. "But do not disappoint me," said Ray after the diminutive figure left. "Unlike your predecessor, Fred... who was weak." The battle continued to rage above WPI, as the Sables and the "Terrapin Corps" (as Philip had dubbed themselves, against Trevor's protests that he _wasn't_ a Terp) struggled for control. Even though going into the _entire_ battle would take too long to write here, suffice it to say, the Terrapin Corps were doing pretty well.