Tron: Deliverance

LEVEL 3: FURY ROAD

The Engineer didn't have the most reliable memory files. But something deep in his banks told him he'd had better bosses than General Tesler. The old spark plug of a General was more volatile than a broken motivation array.

But options were limited for old corrupted programs like him. As little as he liked it, having Tesler snap at him a few times a cycle was better than getting derezzed for having modified code. He hadn't ever left Purgos. But the Mods that came back from other cities told stories of CLU's forces and even regular Basic programs harassing or even trying to derezz them. Better to keep to their own city. Bugs and all.

He rezzed a lightcycle and weaved through the crumbling city. Pathogenically controlled programs walked mechanically through the streets. Their eyes empty as they carried out their tasks. The engineer averted his gaze. Having a reliable workforce wasn't quite worth seeing those empty eyes.

With relief he saw the uneven outlines of his chop shop. He rolled into the open doors, collapsing his cycle.

"Boss! You're back!" Snobol's white hair stood out starkly in the shadows of the shop. She bounded up to him. Her modded arms leaving a line of digital snow along a work bench as she passed.

"Hi Snobol, is it the torches again?" Making a stab at what could make her face so creased with worry.

"It ain't that boss! Griss just sent us a message. They've run into some tough characters on one a the back streets! They says they need backup!"

The Engineer cursed but kept his render calm. He didn't figure he'd ever been much of a fighter. Yet, his mods needed some kind of guidance. They were strong sure, but they were young and tended to lose the plot when the fight got complicated.

He whipped out his baton "Grab your team and get them mounted on the rigs. We're gonna go bail him out"

She saluted unnecessarily "You gots it boss!" Then scampered away to get the machines powered up. From the looks of it only two of the rigs would be battle-ready in time. It would have to do.

A few nanos later they were rolling out, the amplified roar of the rigs bouncing off the sides of the buildings.

Snobol lead the way on her modified transport truck. It was a monster of a thing, with an overdrive to make it as fast as a light-cycle and a construction array across the front that made it able to smash through a building and not lose speed.

He lead some of the Mods on their light cycles, tricked out with mounted guns. The smaller kind from the lower ports on some derelict recognizers they had scavenged in the Outlands.

Grace piloted their slowest rig at the rear. It was the front half of a light tank with additional high-output guns, a construction crane making up the back and a dreadnought engine to power the main gun. It was the most likely to explode, but Grace was just crazy enough to be willing to drive it.

Snobol came over the comm "Griss says they've pulled the fight out onto a road big enough for the rigs. These losers don't know whats about to hit em"

"Alright, stay sharp. We're trying to repel them not blow up half the city. We cover Griss and his team first, then we just fire with small guns to get the outsiders running away. We wont use Grace's gun unless something crazy happens"

"Dawww I nevah get to use the big gun" Grace pouted over the comm.

"Thats a good thing you dummy"

"You're boring sometimes old-timer"

"Alright, look alive programs. They're around this corner" Snobol cut in.