If one has never cooked a rabbit before, start with a trusted recipe. Don’t be afraid to use a bit of spice to perk things up! – Dr. Sandra Prohaska’s Cookbook

Operation Menu: Phase Lunch (D+11.0 hours)

T.C.'s eyes emitted a brilliant emerald glow as he dashed through the dimly lit cave. Metal chains, designed to support a conveyor belt for transporting iron ore to the surface, jingled and clanged as he sprinted at full tilt. Triumph faithfully followed in his wake.

As the cave abruptly veered to the right, T.C. trailed his hand along the rocky wall, maintaining his pace while hugging the right side of the passage.

"Where are we headed?" inquired Triumph.

"I've told you four times already, that we're on the lookout for a workshop," T.C. replied, taking another turn.

"Oh...are we there yet?" queried Triumph.

T.C. came to an abrupt halt at a three-way intersection. After scanning the length of the cave, his eyes settled on a door, and he darted toward it. His foot collided with the metal door, almost sending it off its hinges.

Triumph repeated his questions.

"This is it," T.C. declared, catching his breath, and surveying the room.

Inside, he noticed an array of mining equipment, various tools, and a well-stocked workbench.

"Can we go for another run?" inquired Triumph.

“Later,” answered T.C. patting the dog on the head.

"After collecting the equipment in one place, T.C. asked, 'So, Triumph, what do we have?'"

Triumph nudged the work harness with his muzzle and sat down, saying, "We have an electric air jack pick, four tungsten-carbide bits, a 63Ni generator, six demon spice grenades, a pack of delicious 'oggie noms,' a few tools, a broken radio, rope, CaveStar 2.5m Q-beam, and a Kevlar harness."

"And a door," T.C. added, shrugging his shoulders. "Let nothing go to waste."

"A repeatable rocket launcher or arc cannon would be preferable," Triumph said.

T.C. patted the dog on the head and said, "I've worked with less. This will do."

"Back on the colonial world?" Triumph asked, sensing T.C.'s mood change. "Sorry, too soon?"

"It's fine," T.C. replied and picked up a screwdriver.

He began prying off the back panel of the NRG generator and tossed the sticker to the floor that read 'WARNING: Removal will void warranty.' The dog nuzzled T.C.'s hand until he began to pet him.

"It's still very fresh," T.C. whispered as he hugged Triumph. "I think if I had the Thornewoods there with me, it would have turned out differently. That's why I need to save them."

Triumph's question brought back a flood of memories for T.C. He closed his eyes for a moment, lost in thought, and suddenly, he was transported back to the early days with the Thornewood crew at the beginning of the third season. He remembered how they had taken him in, a stranger from a backwater colonial world, and treated him with kindness and acceptance.

He recalled moments of laughter in the dilapidated apartment building, shared stories of their Battle City adventures, and the warmth of camaraderie that had developed over time. They had become more than just colleagues.

Estelle had paid for his apartment between seasons, while Heather taught him how to cook, Tauru trained with him in the gym every day, and Whisper was there every night reading her poetry to him.

T.C. opened his eyes, his determination renewed.

“Triumph,” he said, his voice filled with conviction, “I owe them everything. They helped me when I had nothing and asked for nothing in return. I have to do whatever it takes to save them now."

T.C. used the screwdriver to pop off the chip labeled 'circuit limiter' and casually tossed it over his shoulder. He then picked up the rope and tested its quality, his eyes brightening with satisfaction.

"I…think I got an idea," T.C. said. “How good are you playing tug-of-war?”

Triumph began to wag his tail and panted.

***

T.C. moved silently through the oppressive darkness of the iron mine, every step bringing him closer to the entrance. His eyes glowed with an emerald luminescence, illuminating the rocky, labyrinthine cave system. The faint hum of the electron capture device, the 63Ni generator mounted on the reinforced door shield, was the only sound that dared to break the silence.

"Just stick to the plan, no matter what," T.C. whispered, his voice barely audible against the backdrop of the cave's natural acoustics.

He glanced back at Triumph, who moved alongside him with an air of determination. The loyal dog's jaws gripped a length of rope, ready for action.

In response to T.C.'s words, Triumph emitted a low, affirmative growl, his eyes gleaming with understanding as he dragged the rope forward, its fibers brushing against the rough cave floor.

T.C. reached behind him, his fingers searching for and finally finding the sturdy rope securely attached to his harness. As he tugged hard, the metallic clip ring emitted a metallic jingle against the cold metal connector piece. They were almost at the cave's entrance when Triumph came to a sudden stop, sitting down, and began to growl.

In the distance, T.C.'s gaze fixed on the sight of Indigo and Whisper suspended in mid-air beside a nearby building. They were encased within an iridescent turquoise crystal, their helpless forms seemingly frozen. Nearby, a mechanized rabbit hopped back and forth, as the rider laughed. Speakers blasted music from the mouthpiece of the rabbit, as the rider sang to the tune.

“Yo, I wake up every morning, feeling so fly,

Got my eyes on the prize, reachin' for the sky,

Rollin' in my ride,

Shades on, lookin' so fly,

Countin' fat stacks as the days go by.”

T.C. tightened his grip on the shield's handle with his left hand, his knuckles whitening as he adjusted his grip. From his belt, he unclipped the electric air jack pick.

"I gave Boss Kitty my word, and I won’t let you or the other Thornewoods down, and…" T.C. muttered to himself as he pulled the shield closer, his fingers finding a switch that activated the mounted light. “Never give up.”

With a high-pitched whine, the CaveStar Q-beam came to life, casting an increasingly intense glow. T.C. positioned the shield before him, the brilliant light starting to flicker, creating a strobing effect that pierced through the darkness of the cave.

“I'm makin' money, honey,

Ain't no doubt, livin' life large,

I got it all figured out,

From the penthouse suite to the private jet,

I'm stackin' up the cash, you can place your bet…

And you ain’t seen nuttin’ yet!”

T.C. stepped out from the cave and shouted, “Hey dipshit, Lazer-88 is a poser!”

The music stopped.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Harvey delivered a swift kick to Bun-Bun's side, prompting a resolute response, "Acquire lock! Fire now!"

T.C., with his left thumb, deftly toggled the switch on his shield. It crackled with yellow arcs of electric current just as the first round was unleashed from the rifle. The projectile detonated merely a meter from the shield, scattering innocuous fragments in all directions.

“I’m going to kill you, and when I’m done, I’ll rip off your arms and beat your friends to death with them, fuck their bounty now,” Harvey taunted. “You hear me shit stain!?! Eat lead!”

Additional bullets disintegrated into fragments, while others missed their mark entirely. Then, abruptly, the weapon volley ceased.

“The strobe light is messing with the targeting system,” thought T.C.

“Bun-Bun egg b…” Harvey began to say.

T.C. cautiously raised his head above the shield, his heart pounding in his chest. His thumb trembled as he switched off the electric field protecting the shield. The air jack pick hit the top of the door shield with a deafening clang, the sound echoing against the cave behind him.

He focused his vision, aimed high, and squeezed the trigger, sending a tungsten bolt hurtling toward the target.

Bun-Bun swiftly shifted to the right, positioning its hand as a secondary barrier to protect Harvey. A pulsating, bright blue bubble shimmered into existence around the mechanized rabbit, a last-ditch effort at defense.

“Is that the best you got? You missed me like your mama misses me!” Harvey shouted back.

Time seemed to slow as the bolt streaked toward them, and holding his breath, T.C. watched as the bolt passed through the shimmering shield and impaled the mechanical hand clutching the precious basket against Bun-Bun's chest.

The sound of metal striking metal bounced off the walls of the nearby building. Bun-Bun stumbled back from the impact.

“Unable to comply with the previous request, egg bombs rendered inoperable,” the mechanical rabbit said.

“Fucking hell,” Harvey said. “Just use primary weapon.”

T.C. swiftly thumbed the switch, reactivating the power to his shield. Bun-Bun fired off three more rounds, but the erratic shots went wide, colliding with the side of the iron mine.

T.C.'s concern for Triumph weighed heavily on his mind. Triumph, I hope you're safe, he thought, though he wasn't certain if the telepathic message would reach amid the interference of the iron.

Determined to press on, he retrieved a second bolt from his bandoleer and swiftly loaded it into his weapon.

"Bun-Bun, disengage the safeties on the boom stick," Harvey urged.

"That would be ill-advised," the rabbit’s mechanized rabbit said.

"Override all safety protocols," Harvey insisted, his voice growing louder. "Shred that fuckin’ kinetic dampener. Overload that trog-looking piece of shit!”

T.C. clenched his teeth as he cranked up the power setting on the generator. The glass casing, housing the volatile isotope-63 nickel, began to tremble and emit an unsettling, low hum.

Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he risked a glance over the shield, desperate for a clearer view of Bun-Bun and Harvey.

The mechanized rabbit had wisely retreated, positioning itself just out of range from T.C.'s modified jackpick.

"Fire, now!" Harvey's urgent shout pierced the already tense atmosphere, sending a jolt of adrenaline through T.C.'s veins.

Bullets raced relentlessly toward T.C., who clutched the shield with a vice-like grip. Shrapnel fragments burst into existence, scattering like malevolent fireworks in every direction. A few of those razor-edged shards breached the protective barrier of light.

“There goes the sensor jammer,” T.C. muttered as sparks flew off above him.

T.C.'s heart pounded as he wrestled to maintain control. Beads of sweat formed on his furrowed brow, and he spared a fraction of a second to glance at the ominous gauges on the generator. It was a race against time, and although the needle was still a distance from the dreaded redline, it crept relentlessly closer with each passing moment.

“Are you almost done? I’m getting kinda bored,” T.C. shouted over the top of the shield. “Great, I’m starting to sound like Boss Kitty.”

“Repeat, fuck’em up!” screamed Harvey. “Overcharged attack!”

Bun-Bun slammed his right foot into the ground, twisting it sharply to the side. A rock went airborne, propelled by the force of his movement. Shifting his stance, he positioned his left foot forward and leaned into it. The rifle's barrel steadied, maintaining a steady aim as the weapon system unleashed a rapid barrage of rounds in the direction of T.C.

Harvey continued to yell back, “Good job Bun-Bun, plow’em him hard like I’m going to plow both his friends!”

T.C. planted his foot firmly into the unforgiving earth, his body straining against the relentless assault. With each successful impact, the needle on the gauge rose ominously, and he felt the unrelenting force pushing him backward.

Harvey's shouts were drowned out amidst a relentless barrage of expletives, the cacophony of curses rendered useless against the deafening roar of the rifle's unending, thunderous fire.

The rifle's barrel hissed, emanating a searing, bright red glow. As the needle on the gauge violently slammed against the redline, he could feel the generator straining under the immense pressure.

"Hold on," T.C. muttered through gritted teeth, his voice trembling with determination as he patted the generator affectionately. "I know you can do it."

Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he desperately willed the machine to withstand the imminent explosion. The panels of the generator hissed, and steam billowed out from the sides. The needle hit the peg.

“Come on! Come on!” yelled Harvey. “How much dick did you suck for boost, you slut?”

The deafening roar of the rifle abruptly ceased. T.C., cautiously, peered over the top to assess the situation. What he saw sent a surge of relief and apprehension through him simultaneously.

The barrel had partially melted, a twisted, glowing remnant of its former self, and the rifle was now jammed, its formidable firepower suddenly rendered impotent. Fire and black smoke billowed from the melted barrel.

"Crush him, Bun-Bun," Harvey ordered.

Harvey leaned over to get a better look at the melted barrel when T.C. raced towards them. After reaching the length of the rope, he slammed his shield into the ground. Raising the jack pick, it began to hiss, and with a loud pop, a tungsten carbide bolt was fired. The bolt pierced through the shield and hit Bun-Bun on the side of its robotic head.

"Bunny hop," the rabbit announced before launching itself into the air.

T.C. crouched down and readied another bolt as he said, "Rapid reload."

His arteries dilated, and adrenaline surged through his body. T.C. snapped his fingers, and in a single motion, the jack pick was reloaded. With a flick of his thumb, he disengaged the safety, and the weapon hummed to life, charging to its full power.

“Come’on, I’m buying the rounds and this next shot is from me,” T.C. said aiming the weapon into the air.

As Bun-Bun reached the pinnacle of its arc, the mechanical rabbit came hurtling down.

“Concentrate all shields on the feet, crush that fucking shit stain,” yelled Harvey.

The metallic feet of the rabbit emitted a brilliant azure luminescence, and the rear-mounted rockets ignited, propelling the mechanical creature toward the ground at an accelerated pace.

T.C. deftly tapped his fingers against his temple and whispered, "Engage sniper sight." His pupils constricted, and his vision homed in on Bun-Bun's weapon points with pinpoint precision. Statistics and percentages in dim white lettering appeared in T.C.’s vision, giving the status of Bun-Bun.

The numbers indicated that Bun-Bun was falling closer: 200meters…175meters…150meters…100meters…50meters…

T.C. fired the weapon and he yelled, “Triumph now, tug-of-war!”

Back in the cave, concealed behind the wall, the dog's ears perked up. He clamped down on the rope even tighter with his jaw and swung his head. With a burst of energy, the dog bolted down the length of the cave at full throttle. Suddenly, he executed a sharp right turn, continuing his sprint through the dimly lit cavern.

Bun-Bun slammed onto the shield, triggering a chain of events that began with the crushing of the generator beneath its 1.5-ton weight. The generator erupted in an explosion, sending the semi-solid nickel fuel dispersing in a fine mist.

This mist pierced the metal casing of the demon spice grenades, setting off a catastrophic chain reaction of explosions.

“A tisket, a tasket I shot your yellow basket,” T.C. sang aiming his modified jack pick.

As he was pulled backward, T.C. discharged the last bolt, striking the basket and scattering the concussion bombs in the vicinity of Bun-Bun. Upon the egg bombs' descent into a pool of demon fire, they triggered a powerful secondary explosion.

Before deactivating his sniper sight, T.C. saw Harvey thrown into the air by one of the explosions.

Triumph yanked T.C. further into the cave, the rough terrain causing him to bounce on the rocks and scrape his arms. Once they were safely around the corner and away from the exploding mechanized rabbit, T.C. gradually rose to his feet. He dusted off his arms and shoulders.

"I'm fine. We need to move quickly and make sure Harvey didn't survive," T.C. stated as he unhooked the rope from his harness.

They hurried back outside, where Triumph emitted a soothing green glow, mending T.C.'s wounds.

"How often can you do that?" T.C. inquired as he sprinted down the length of the cave.

"TCCC*? As often as needed for minor injuries," Triumph replied cheerfully. "Dealing with moderate to severe injuries is a bit more challenging."

Once outside the cave, they were met with a scene of destruction. A pile of molten slag marked the spot where Bun-Bun had crashed into the shield. Harvey, blown 30 meters away, lay face down on the ground. A red pennant continued to flutter on a flagpole by a nearby building.

The windows of the green building had shattered, and its door had been blown off its hinges. Inside, Indigo and Whisper remained trapped in the statis crystal.

"Good, they weren't harmed by the explosion," T.C. remarked.

Triumph rushed up to Indigo, whimpering and scratching in distress. His paws swiped desperately at the crystal's surface, but it remained unyielding. T.C. approached and lightly tapped the crystal with his knuckles. Triumph gazed up at T.C. with pleading eyes.

"Don't worry, buddy," T.C. reassured Triumph, tapping the crystal once more. "Go fetch my mining pick, and we'll get them both out."

With a bark, Triumph dashed off toward the cave.

***