Phanya jolted awake as the jitney rocked over a particularly large bump. It wasn't that she had grown bored while traveling through darkened tunnels filled with massive conglomerations of metal, flesh, and phase energy that ate anything that moved — Phanya sneaked a peak of the eldritch subway train during one pit stop and instantly understood Steffo's fear. But there wasn't anything she could do about that monstrosity, and so long as they kept quiet they were safe in the car. Steffo was so focused on driving that he wasn't about to strike up a conversation, so in the silence exhaustion snuck up and claimed her.
"Jeez sorry, how long was I out for?" Phanya mumbled after stifling a yawn.
The car leveled out and Steffo didn't stifle his yawn, stretching his massive arms and leaning back in his seat for the first time since they started driving. "Ah don't sweat it, you needed the rest. And besides, we made it!"
He swept his hands across the panoramic view of the windshield and the platform beyond. It was identical to the first metro station they entered through, with the added bonus that they were leaving this one once and for all. The only remaining obstacle was a long set of wide stairs, but thankfully all the handrails were already crushed by other vehicles and the jitney just barely cleared the ceiling.
Sharp artificial light gave way to muted natural sun, rigid stairs gave way to haphazard ramps of compacted garbage, and with a final lurch the jitney was out of the metro and in the junk dunes. Phanya teared up at the comforting blanket of smoggy clouds, she had forgotten how much she missed the open sky! Against her better judgement Phanya opened the passenger door and stood on the lip, stretching to her full height and breathing her freedom in deep before immediately coughing it back out. She had also forgotten just how nasty the air here was without a mask! But nothing could deter her good mood right now, so Phanya collapsed back into her seat with a laugh and helped Steffo in getting their bearings.
Luckily for them, all the raiders had long since fled the area so there was no ambush lying in wait. Unluckily for them, Steffo had never used the subways before and couldn't find any reference points. The natural fissure in the tarmac that opened up this metro exit was camouflaged to avoid anyone accidentally finding the entrance, so there were no easy pathways through the junk dunes either. They settled on driving in increasingly larger circles until they found something, anything they recognized, and that something was a skirmish.
A large gravsled made lazy circles around the circumference of a clearing in the refuse, ensuring that none of the people within the circle could make a run for it and escape into the dunes. There were five people on foot, too far away to recognize but four were wearing the spiked jackets of the raiders and they were all encircling the one that wasn't. The lone person kept all the raiders at bay by swinging a multi-pronged spear, but it was only a matter of time before his defense fell.
Phanya sucked a gasp through her teeth and leaned over the dashboard as far as she could manage. "Wait, I think I recognize them. Only one person is crazy enough to use a pitchfork! Get in there Steffo, we need to save him!"
The raiders were just having a little fun, and after their rough morning they deserved it. They watched their boss get pasted by a sample cart, their beautiful oasis turned on them, and now they were homeless with little more than whatever they could carry out. So when they came across a random skrat wandering the dunes with a stick, he was practically begging to be their new stress toy and for a few minutes. Just one bout of torture, and life was good again.
Until some armored corporate truck came barreling out from the dunes and ran over Sheps, instantly killing him and ruining everyone else's fun. Some computer voice started droning out a warning about their corporate authority here and the remaining raiders fled, it just wasn't worth it.
"Uhh I think I hit someone," Steffo said, but Phanya had already thrown open the door and jumped out the car. He watched, bemusedly, at the animated interaction, Phanya's sleepiness gone in a moment of excitement. The words were too faint to hear, but the gesticulations were loud and clear between Phanya and a broad man nearly half her height. She half led, half dragged him to the jitney, entering first so she could squeeze around the seat and ensure the man took shotgun instead.
He was one of those rodent hybrids, mostly beaver. Short and hairy and tough, and he wore a slipper on the end of his flat gray tail so it wouldn't drag on the ground. Up close Steffo could now pair the man with the pitchfork: Everett, even when Steffo was a kid he always joked about being a farmer on the tarmac!
Everett's bushy beard split into a buck-toothed smile as he reached recognition at the same time and said, "My boy Steffo, it's really you!" His eyes darted around the cabin, and the smile faltered. "Is it just you two here?"
A chime sounded, happy with its coincidental timing, and Tapper woke up from his sleep cycle. Phanya grimaced, she had enjoyed talking with Steffo as two regular humans so much that she left Tapper in sleep mode to avoid his weird questions. But then she completely forgot to wake him at the first sign of danger, and it was only by luck that these raiders scattered like roaches. Treating Tapper like an armed securibot will take some getting used to.
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She also realized with a start that Everett spends so much time in Belvidere working sales that he possibly had not yet even met their newest and strangest resident. "We got our robot bartender Tapper, he works in the cafe. Tapper, this is Everett, Wiessa's husband."
Tapper flexed his joints, fingers popping out of their locked position, and he waved the hand at Everett. "Hello sir, pleasure to meet you! Where are we?"
Everett mumbled a greeting in return but focused on Phanya. "No lass, I mean you and young Ricky! Both of you have been missing for days!"
A chill cut through the midday humidity, though Steffo only had context clues to know that now was not a good time to ask who that was. "W-what do you mean Ry is gone?" Phanya asked, her voice dry.
"We thought he was with you! Or hoped so; he vanished around the same time that bastard Fairbanks kidnapped you. The manager won't say a word, so we've been looking everywhere — Ms. Uxral even called me in Belvidere in case the lad had shown up there!"
Phanya took several slow breaths to calm herself before she said, "Okay, it's okay. If Fairbanks doesn't have him and he isn't in Belvidere, then I think I know where he is. Point us home Everett, I'll tell Steffo when to change course."
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The door to Ricky's "secret clubhouse" was uncovered and powered on, so she expected a response when she opened the door, but Phanya didn't expect the occupant to burst out swinging an oversized club. Their shambling movements and glint of metal told her new reflexes that Rethar had returned, and Phanya came dangerously close to throwing a knockout punch.
But it was Ricky, alive yet unwell. His face was gaunt and sickly and his body covered in scraps of metal, and he was wielding one of his practice constructs as an awkward weapon. He swung it again wild and uncoordinated, and Phanya pushed Everett out of the way while keeping herself within Ricky's reach. "Ricky, chill out! Bro it's me!!"
The young man stopped and stared, eyes swimming in and out of focus for a long second before comprehension dawned. "...Phanya? Why are your clothes so sil —" The last fumes of his energy ran out and Ricky fell backwards, right into Tapper's waiting arms.
"— No idea how the lad hasn't fallen to heat stroke yet." The gruff voice stirred Ricky back to consciousness, despite every fiber of his being preferring to sleep forever. He groaned and heard shuffling, feeling the weight of staring eyes, so when he opened his own Ricky was only slightly embarrassed to see four people studying him with clear concern. They had stripped off his kludged armor and wrapped him in blankets from his hideout, but the low metal ceiling was unfamiliar.
He struggled to sit up and someone pressed a fresh water bottle into his hands, instantly soaking up Ricky's attention until the blessed liquid washed over his sandpaper throat. Only after the bottle was empty did he realize who had handed it to him, and Ricky smiled for the first time in forever. "Tapper, you're still alive! I was so worried."
"We were all worried, lad. About you." There was no accusation in Mr. Everett's tone, but Ricky wilted under it all the same.
"It looks like you've been living in your clubhouse for days now," Phanya added. Her own tone did carry clear accusation, but that rolled off Ricky's back. "What the hell were you thinking, Ry? Especially with that?"
The blanket fell away and Phanya pointed to the one piece of gear they couldn't remove from his person: A dented, damaged, and downright destitute hauler exoskeleton. Ricky's mouth wavered without words as his thoughts raced, so much had happened that he didn't know where to begin, but before he could start Tapper pushed a colorful cardboard cone into his hands.
"We all have a great deal of catching up to do, but for now I believe Mister Ricky needs a good meal. Steffo, could you please continue to Fableton?" A bulk that Ricky didn't recognize nodded and turned in his seat, and the metal container lurched with sudden movement. They were in a vehicle!
"Wait, I can't go back to Fableton, I'll get in trouble…" Ricky tried to protest, but the smell of glorious ham and cheese hit his nose and all other thoughts went out the window. Food! Real food!
By the time they rumbled through Fableton's gate Ricky had scarfed down every purloined snack, and aside from his munching they mostly rode in silence. Everyone was beyond exhausted, and Tapper was more than happy to let them rest, so he watched out the window with a pleasant emotional response to the town. Nostalgia, maybe? He left approximately five days ago so nostalgia wasn't entirely logical, but maybe the intensity of recent events gave a time dilation effect on emotions.
Fableton was not known for its collection of armored military vehicles, so by the time the jitney circled the warehouse to park a large crowd had formed in its wake. Always just out of view and ready to dive behind cover should a mercenary hit squad emerge, but when all four passengers squeezed themselves out the dam broke and the townspeople rushed in. Shouts of joy spread like wildfire and seconds later the crowd parted, making way for one very bedraggled and sleep-deprived feline hybrid woman.
Ms. Uxral had no words to give, but one short wail said enough. She hooked Ricky and Phanya in each of her elbows and squeezed with every ounce of her strength, and the two tried their best to accept the affection despite the awkward angle. The matriarch allowed herself a handful of rocking sobs before she composed herself and let go, properly taking in the scene for the first time:
Steffo, trying his best to turn invisible with his head-and-shoulders height advantage over the crowd; Tapper, standing proud on legs and waving cheerfully; Phanya, quickly wiping her own eyes and wearing gaudy 1980s sportswear; Ricky, pretending to act like he wasn't wearing an exosuit; and everyone standing in front of a large and intimidating armored vehicle.
"Right. Everett, can you — oh nevermind, he's already got his hands on Wiessa. You, you, and you, grab a tarp and some junk and camouflage the truck." The people Ms. Uxral singled out broke off from the crowd, dragging a few others with them, and when she turned back her voice was calm and sharp as steel once more. "And you four, in my office. Now."