[center][h3]The Perils of Abigail Travis, Part 6 - “Burn In”[/h3][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/vfWovES.jpg[/img] [/center] Road Angel’s hangar deck was all kindsa busy. As Abby watched, Root an’ four ‘o’ his folk powered up their sky cycles afore hoverin’ clear ‘o’ tha parked bikes. The five of 'em formed a jagged line in tha open bay. Once he’s settled, tha bike gang leader waved ‘er over. “Ever ride before?” he asked. “Horse,” Abby said as ‘er eyes crawled all over tha big machine. “Kinda similar,” Root patted the seat behind him. “Hop on.” "What do I do?” She weren’t quite ready to git on this thing. “See the foot pads?” he pointed toward the flat chrome rests. “Mag lock your boots to those. Now, handgrips are your choice. Some folk like the ones just beneath the seat,” his gloved hand connected with a low hung chrome handle, “Or you can lean forward an’ put your arms around me. Don’t fret,” he laughed at the stormclouds on the girl’s brow, “it doesn’t mean we’re going steady or anything.” “Handgrips are shiny.” At his coaching, she threw a leg over tha bike seat an’ climbed on. Abby set 'er boots down, feelin' tha grip as they's clicked in an’ locked tight. She had tah admit tha EV suits these bikers wore was lighter an’ more comfortable’n what she growed up in. ‘Cept fer bein’ magged, she didn’t feel no problem movin’ about. “Think I’m all set,” she tole Root after tryin’ them handgrips. [i]”Ku.”[/i] Close your faceplate. Let me know when you got a green light.” He pulled his into place, sealing the suit. “Com check. Everybody on?” Root studied his bike’s status readouts as each of the gang confirmed. “Payback, that means you too.” “I hear y’all,” Abby’s voice come over the com. “Got a green light on muh suit.” Root locked a boot on tha deck, holdin’ them in a low hover. The girl watched ‘is hands on tha handlebars, right hand throttlin’ as left kept tha brake engaged. She could feel tha bike’s power rumblin' up underneath each time he revved that throttle. “Slack,” Root ordered. “Open her up.” The hangar door rolled upward, revealing the broad sweep of Road Angel’s forward landing deck. The pale blue jewel of Osiris lay ahead and beneath, one of her moons peeking out above the horizon as a dazzling tapestry of stars flickered in the heavens. “Everybody good?” the biker chief's voice sounded in coms. Once the rest of his crew gave the 'go' sign, he lifted his boot. “Let’s roll.” [hider=Ring of Fire][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2BaksqH2YXQ [/youtube][/hider] The five bikes peeled off, one before the next, into the black. Abby hung on as Root’s bike led tha way along tha deck. Suddenly they swung left, leanin’ hard inta a turn. She looked down on tha rough plankin’ whizzed below jest outta reach, til they weren’t no boat left tah see, jest black. She could see Root, grippin’ them high handlebars as stars an’ planet whirled about tah suit his new headin.’ One look over ‘is shoulder said they’s steerin’ fer tha far horizon. “We ain’t goin’ down?” she asked. The biker’s head turned. “Half orbit,” he said through the com. “Cap City’s around the back. It’s nighttime there.” Tha girl turnt on ‘er seat tah look back tha way they come. She seen tha other four bikes, all runnin’ sorta loose formation tah catch up as their boat, Road Angel, growed smaller an’ smaller behind. [i]It’s a good thing,[/i] she conjured, [i]ain’t nobody can see I’m likin’ this.[/i] The five cycles raced through the inky blackness, before falling into an easy bank for their half orbit. To the right, Osiris filled the sky, her cloud tops and land masses moving in a stately progression as they tore past. “So, Payback,” Root said on the open channel, “Haven’t heard any freakouts. Not your first time in an EV suit, I conjure?” Abby shook ‘er head. “Nope. Growed up in tha black. First time out tha airlock when I’s ten.” “Really?” Nips’ asked. “What’s a ten year old girl doing in an EV suit?” “Ya’ll call me a liar if’n I tell.” “Oh, now we gotta know,” Cottonmouth joined in. “Yeah!” Mouse piped up from the tail end of the pack. “C’mon, Payback. Spill!” The surface ahead of them lay in the shadow of advancing nightfall. Moving together as a unit, the five Headhunters swept on toward the oncoming darkness. Here and there, lights began to wink on among the deepening shadows. “I’m with them,” Root cajoled his passenger. “We gotta know.” “Chalk drawin’s,” Abby surrendered. “WHAT?” The channel come alive with all them bikers laughin’ an’ askin’ questions. “All kindsa stuff,” she answered one. “Nah, it all wipes off durin’ burn in,” she tole another. To a third she answered, “most times nobody ever sees ‘em but me…'cept’n that one time we's stood to fer an Alliance cruiser. Officer tole my Uncle Bob they’s thinkin’ on finin’ him, but they liked all them flowers on ‘is hull so much they changed their mind.” “We should try that one, Prez!” Nips chortled as the planet below fell to the black of night. Ahead of them lay Capital City, a spectacle of lights that sprawled out for miles in all directions except one. Abby looked at tha city lights. “Is tha city on a big lake or somethin’?” she asked at the large chunk of darkness seemed ta nudge right up agin’ tha town. In that pitch black she could only make out a few lights. Seemed sensible they’s boats out on tha water… “That’s the Blackout Zone,” Cottonmouth replied. “Where we’re headed. Crammed full of all the poor folk, the moon brains, the junkies…anybody don’t qualify as an upstanding citizen of the Alliance.” “Yeah,” Nips agreed, “but even they come sneaking around for a taste.” “Or a piece,” Mouse added. “Cut the chatter,” Root ordered. “Time to burn in. Set your shields.” At his order, all five bikes deployed reentry shielding that seemed to telescope out from their bottom frames. Each thin sheet locked into place, creating a clamshell shape that curved out and upward. Abby watched as Root lifted tha bike’s nose a spell. From over his shoulder she could see tha screen and how he’s aimin’ right down tha center of a long curved tunnel ‘o’ squares, purty simple stuff. “Hey boss,” Cottonmouth said hopefully, “It’s really dark down there...” “No.” “Aw, c’mon!” the gang’s enforcer nearly whined. ‘It’s too perfect! Can’t we do it? Please?” “Pretty please?” Mouse put on her most appealing tone. “No,” Root answered. Nips cut in to the rescue. “You know,” she said, “Payback’s never seen it. If you’re tryna get her to swear in, seems to me we should show her some of the cool?” “Had this planned, dincha?” Root played at a brusque tone. “Alright, alright….but just ten percent fuel dump. TEN PERCENT!” Abby felt tha first buffetin’ of friction as the atmo come up to meet ‘em. Tha bikes was all set up in formation now, a tight vee, like a flock ‘o’ geese. She seen their shields all startin’ tah glow orangy-red as they come plummetin’ down. “Ready?” Root asked. When the first flames appeared, he gave the order. “Light ‘em up.” “YEEEEHOOO!” Abby turnt tah catch tha sight as tha bikes dumped fuel. Each one’s shields was flamin’ like a torch, an’ tha fuel they's jettin' out made five fiery trails what stretched out fer miles behind ‘em. All them bikers was hootin’ an’ hollerin’ tah beat tha band. As fer Abby, weren’t no two ways on this’n. [i]Yeah,[/i] she thought, [i]this is cool.[/i] As if her could read her mind, Root said, “It’s okay to enjoy this, kid.” Weren’t no time a’tall til they’s down in thick air. Everybody left their shields out as windbreaks an’ tah slow them bikes fallin’ through broken cloud as tha black zone rose up tah swallow ‘em whole. Soon enough they come in low, an’ Abby could make out a few lights an’ one-two folk movin’ about. “So, what’s the plan?” Cottonmouth asked. “The Kings,” Root said. “Pacho’s waiting. We’re gonna hang at their clubhouse an’ drink their beer while we wait for the signal. Then we’ll take Payback to her people and claim what’s ours.” “Yew mean killin’,” Abby said flatly. “Hope not. Only one of your crew owes us a life. If your captain’s wise, he’ll see it our way.” The bikes circled over what appeared to be an abandoned freight yard. Burning trash barrels cast their lurid glow upon ranks of parked cycles, and also marked the landing sight for the Headhunters. Root led the way, easing his bike down toward the center. “Wait,” Abby said. ‘What if I swear in…ride outta here with yew when this is done? Is that enough tah keep killin’ outta this?” “We can talk,” the MC President said as his skids touched down.