Legends Never Die

If there was something Chuck absolutely loathed, it was fans. Sure, having people thinking you're cool was fun for awhile but when they were directed mainly at your friends and not you? Yeah, it gets old pretty fast.

"How did you even find this comm line?!" Chuck shrieked in anxious frustration.

"Come on, please hear me out! I can be a part of the Burners. I have a car, see?" He stepped back, motioning at a half modded Cadillac, painted black with a very crudely drawn eagle on the front. "You gotta give me a chance man!"

Mike happened by then and Chuck flagged him down. He mouthed a quick, "help me!" and motioned with his non-visible hand to the persistent fanboy. Mike took a peek off screen, grimaced a little, then nodded. "Relax Chuckles, I got this." Mike stepped into the frame and waved. "Hey there!"

"Ohmigod Mike Chilton! I-- I'm such a huge fan!"

"Yeah I can see that! So listen, we don't have any positions opening for active members. However," Mike interrupted before the guy could protest, "We do need reserve members in case Kane tries a full scale attack like that before. Would you be interested?"

"Yes! Ohmigod yes, yes, yes! It'd be an honour sir!"

"Membership's simple and automatic. Since you found our commline, and we have your number logged, we'll call you as soon as anything happens where we're spread too thin. Got it?"

"I-- I look forward to fighting with you, Mike Chilton!"

"Hopefully it doesn't come down to that again. See ya!" He ended the call for Chuck and sighed. "Well, maybe it's time we go unlisted."

"You think?! That's the third guy this month!" Chuck exclaimed. "Eventually that 'reserve Burner' ploy isn't gonna work anymore." He got up, going to grab a soda from the fridge. "I swear it's like everyone and their grandma suddenly wants to ride with us. It's great, but, can't they form their own gang?"

"They did."

"What?"

"They're called the Kindles."

"Oh my god." Chuck groaned, less enthused than the guy a few minutes before. "Of course they are. I'm sorry for griping Mike, really, I'm just sick and tired of--" The commline beeped with an incoming, unregistered number. "GAH!"

"I got this." Mike reassured and opened the feed. It was voice only. "Burners HQ, if you're calling about membership we aren't currently processing active members but we do have openings for reserves!" He ignored the loud sigh in the background that Chuck made.

"Chilton it's me."

Both parties startled, tensing up. Chuck only vaguely recognized the voice, but Mike knew it instantly. "Jenzen?!"

"Yeah. Listen, before you hang up, hear me out."

"... Go ahead." The two eyed each other, Chuck abandoning his soda to sit beside Mike.

Jenzen sighed. His voice sounded strained. "I need you to help extract two prisoners from Kane's Prison Camps below the Security Office."

"Who exactly?"

"Their names are Valerie Chen and Talia Jones. They won't be listed in the prisoner files, but they're on Level C-3."

"That's, a little odd they wouldn't be registered." Chuck spoke up finally, doubt clear in his tone.

"Listen, don't do this for me okay? Do it for them. They've been enslaved for as long as I've been alive and they- they didn't do anything wrong. They won't just trust you though so get some Highwaymen to go with you." 

"Some who-?" The line went dead. "That, was just weird, right Mikey?" He looked up at the former Cadet and winced. "Oh no." 

"Well we haven't had any Kane Bots in weeks--"

"Mikey no!"

"Come on, I highly doubt Jenzen would try to play us!"

"He's a Commander, in Deluxe, who tried to arrest you."

"He- he was scared. He didn't know he had a choice." Mike tried to argue for his former friend.

Chuck frowned a bit. "Maybe he did but Kane's got everyone's idea of you twisted Mike. You've seen his propaganda of us, he's just ramping it up now. Jenzen could think you went crazy down here or wants to get in good with Kane! Besides we have no idea who these 'Highwaymen' even are!"

"Did you say Highwaymen?!" Texas had returned from his 'fighting practice' (his moniker for training), perking up at the name.

"You know them?"

"Ch'ya! They were a gang and they were so cool!" He gushed. It was rare for Texas to gush about anyone but himself, dragons, lasers or fighting. "Saw them up close once when I was a kid. They came racing by on their motorcycles and one of them even waved-"

"Whoa, hold on, slow down a bit bud!" Mike held up his hands, standing to look at the shorter man. "You said they're a motorcycle gang?"

Texas shook his head and clarified: "Were. Nobody's seen them in years, which is good cuz' Texas woulda joined them before you guys!"

"So great. Jenzen wants us to go look for a gang that may not even exist anymore. Mike, it's probably a trap." 

"Who's Jenzen?"

"Long story. Listen," Mike turned back to Chuck, "Let's just call up Dutch and Julie, try to figure out if either of them have heard of these guys. We're not going anywhere until we make sure they actually existed."

As Chuck sent the ping to their comms, Texas huffed in absolute offence at the audacity Mike seemed to have with his statement. "They did too exist! They wore these cool jackets with skulls on them an' there were hundreds!"

"I meant if they exist anymore Texas. We can't take another risk of Kane trying to play us for fools."

Julie picked up, as did Dutch. Dutch's background noise had bits of construction sounds, which quickly became quieter. The Cablers seemed to be hard at work, trying to rebuild the damage Kane caused those few months ago. Julie also had her mic muted, but indicated she was listening. Mike quickly filled them in on the situation about the call. "... Do either of you know about the 'Highwaymen' at all?"

Dutch paused. "No clue man. Never even heard 'a them before. I can ask some 'a the Cablers when they gotta sec."

"I can do some digging on my end," Julie spoke, but her voice was hushed. "But I can't promise anything. Kane's been keeping a closer eye on me. I'll try to make it down tonight but no promises."

"No worries Jules. Thanks anyways--"

"Why don't you just go ask the Skylarks?" All attention went to Texas. "Ya know, cuz' the Skylark Motel was where the Highwaymen used to be?"

"Texas why didn't you say so before?" Chuck exclaimed in exasperation. Kicking back, the Burner flipped his cap over his eyes, shrugging idly.

"You didn't ask."

Julie did make it down, thankfully. Dutch met up with the gang too as Mike selected one of the parts they'd need. Nobody asked for information down in Motorcity without expecting compensation to be demanded, and that was the rule. His mind was still rattling over the idea that after all this time, Jenzen reached out. Jenzen asked for help. He knew the guy was straight laced, they'd looked out for each other in the barracks when oftentimes Cadets would be at each other's throats. Dog-Eat-Dog environments, according to Kane, "bred competitive and fierce spirits who know what they stand for". That line left a sour taste in Mike's mouth now, a couple years down the line of opening his eyes. He took stock of what they had available, trying to decide what would match the price of Motorcity Lore for the Skylarks.

Turbo Booster XL-2, Hydrogen Ionizer, Laser Cutter Battery ...

... Truth be told, he never understood why Jenzen didn't come down, why he chose loyalty. He could understand fear, Kane was a pretty intimidating guy, but Jenzen was like Mike if not a bit more cautious. Chuck was, right though. He had to be cautious now too. Jenzen had stayed in Deluxe, had tried to arrest him under Kane's orders on That Day two years ago.

"I'm sorry for this."

Was he genuinely? Or was he just covering his own ass? Mike wasn't sure what he believed anymore. Deluxe was all smoke and mirrors, people's motivations seemed either guided by fear or by delusion. Well. Down here, it was at least easier to know who to trust and who not to. But, if there was still a chance that Jenzen needed help, that he cared about somebody that Kane had ruined, it was up to them to help. Call Mike a fool and a bleeding heart but it didn't hurt to at least follow the lead a little.

He picked up a hyper charge piston, and nodded. They could make another, and Chuck wasn't driving Blonde Thunder at the moment. He climbed into Mutt, rubbing his hand across the steering wheel and turned on the ignition.

"Did you call Rayon?"

"Yup." Chuck nodded, wincing as the engine rattled a bit. "It still freaks me out when it does that!"

"Hey, don't knock it. It's not gonna--"

"Mike don't say anything. Shush! You know what happens when you say something about it not being bad. It's a curse, I swear!"

"You're not one to believe in curses buddy." Mike smirked, and pressed a teasing kiss to his boyfriend's cheek, who huffed.

"You'd be surprised what you believe in after all the crazy shit we've been through."

The driver threw his head back in a laugh, and eased off the clutch.

---

You could often see The Skylark Motel before you got close to it: the neon sign glowed warmly in the eternal twilight of Motorcity. If you drove too fast, you'd miss it. The Burners knew almost by muscle memory how to make the right turn off, off of the road and down into the parking lot. The place was covered by the roots of some long-lived tree that somehow survived with limited light, throwing many areas of the building into shade. It, like everything in the city looked 'sketchy' to newcomers. The Burners knew better. It was one of the best places to hide out, to get away, or to conduct business. The latter was what thankfully Rayon was willing to do that day.

They filed in, under the hidden and watchful eyes of the Skylarks. All of them were, as usual, impeccably dressed and wore sunglasses, giving them a sharp and intimidating look. The only thing to indicate who was who was the number stitched on the back of each jacket. A quick swipe of the scanners, shared nods, and the Burners were lead to the Meeting Room. Rayon stood between #2 and #3, his cool smirk ever present on his face.

"Burners, welcome."

"Rayon."

The briefest of pleasantries exchanged, the door was shut behind them. "I assume you didn't come empty handed, correct?"

"Yeah. We brought a part we thought you'd like." Mike held out the piston. Rayon nodded approvingly. "So. We need some information."

"On what, or whom?"

Mike paused. He, in these situations, usually did the talking. "Have you ever heard of a gang called 'The Highwaymen'?"

Rayon froze up, tensing a bit, but then righted himself after his startle. "Now," he slid his glasses down his nose, peering at the leader in a calculated manner; "How do you know about them?"

"We don't."

"Texas knows 'em!"

"... Everyone but Texas doesn't." Mike corrected himself as the energetic member of his gang bounced excitedly.

"Right. Most 'a you are from Deluxe. I forget sometimes." They were motioned to take a seat around the table. Rayon uncorked a crystal decanter and poured himself some whisky. His offer of it was declined by all of the Burners. "So. What do you know?"

"Not much." Julie admitted. "I heard of them for the first time today."

"I know that they were a motorcycle gang that wore really cool jackets, drove awesome bikes and protected Motorcity!"

"Hm. Then you just know the basics." Rayon scoffed, making Texas scowl. "Why would you all be looking for them anyway?"

"We ah-- we were asked to find them. Someone needs their help." Mike chose his words carefully. Information was valuable. A slip of the tongue, and business was done.

"I see. Well in that case, I may as well fill you Burners in on who the Highwaymen were besides being 'cool bikers'."

"Please, do."

"When I was a kid, before you Burners ever even touched a car, there were the Highwaymen.” Rayon began the story, leaning forwards in the dark leather chair. “They were the postal service, the firemen, the emergency medics, and defenders of Motorcity. They did it all and then some, and they did it all well . Motorcycles aren’t like cars, not that big, not too clunky, able to go down narrower paths cars can’t fit through. They had this whole city covered, top to bottom. If you were a Highwayman, you were set . And this place right here?” Rayon waved his hand about the lobby, “This was their package processing plant a long, long time ago. The Couriers lived here. They planned out routes an’ patrols; they held parties and ceremonies in here, funerals and everything and anything. Some members even lived here year ‘round. Sometimes the Big Seven themselves showed up."

"Big Seven?" Mike interjected.

"The Leaders of the different Highwaymen Divisions." He sighed, looking around as if he could see the bikers milling about. “Let’s see. There was Gears, he was the top mechanic. If someone had a problem with their bike, ‘Go ask Gears’ was all you’d be told to do by everyone. Then you had the lovebirds, White Rabbit ‘n’ Cyclone. Cyclone headed Defence Force of the gang, and Rabbit headed the Couriers. They stuck together like glue though, could never separate ‘em. Axe was SIC of the Defence Force, lived up to his name. Babydoll designed the logo the Highwaymen used, she was a loud woman. You could hear her down the hall if she was talking."

Rayon took a short sip of his scotch. "Getaway made the weapons the Highwaymen used, all 'a them. The bombs, the crossbows, the guns, all his handywork but lord help the person who had to test those things." He chuckled a bit with a grin. "Whyr was the loose cannon, always rowdy and up to party or go fight Bots or Hounds. And then, well, there’s Valkyrie. She was the founder, the leader of the Offence group. She dove headfirst into any battle and could clear ten Bots on her own. She kept things running as smooth as coolant in the group.” 

“So, what happened?” 

“... There was a big package that needed delivering, so the story goes. Of course who was gonna say no to a payment that big? There’d been a lull in Kane’s attempts to invade Motorcity, so Valkyrie and Whyr decided to ride with Rabbit and Gears to deliver the package. But, there wasn’t a package. They were sold out, an’ there was an ambush. Valkyrie, Rabbit, an’ Gears were all taken down and taken up . Whyr gave chase, but lost control of their bike. They crashed and they burned. Literally."

The Burners all looked horrified. "Did, they-?" Chuck started to ask nervously.

"No. Whyr survived, but the whole group was shaken. Attempts were made to go find ‘em but, no sign. Nothing, save for someone finding Val’s jacket in a dumpheap. No one knows if they’re alive or if they’re dead. Losing three of your leadership, losing loved ones, that’s gonna do things to you. Bad things.”

Rayon sighed, hands folded in his lap. “Whyr left first, went to find other settlements outside of Motorcity. They couldn’t stick around knowing Val was gone and there were no answers. Axe left too, not long after, formed his own gang. Cyclone tried to keep the group going but there was little he or the others could do. Things fell apart. The Couriers are still running but the numbers are nowhere near what it was in their prime. Then the Burners formed, you took over the Bot fighting and defending an’, people forgot the Highwaymen were ever a thing. Don’t blame them. Legends eventually die. They become a little footnote in the past when someone new takes the mantle."

"Texas heard of them though?" Julie brought up softly, a bit confused and ignoring the vigorous "ch'ya!" to her left. "I don't understand."

"Your friend's the exception to the rule then. You can find some people down here who remember them, remember seeing them, but you're newer and cooler to the younger crowd. They won't know who the Highwaymen are if you ask them."

Mike digested Rayon's story, and then chose to ask: "How do you know so much?"

The leader of the Skylarks leaned back a bit. "Oh. I've been around, met people who knew people. You don't inherit territory without learning a bit of it's history. And yes, I in fact do know where you might find them for whatever reason you need them." He flicked a speck of lint off of his sleeve. "There's an old processing plant near the Red Light Zone, not much closer to Pariah Town but still pretty out of the way. Whatever remains of the Highwaymen, they'll be there. Keep in mind, they're not big on cars. They'll be suspicious of you."

"Thanks Rayon. That's all we needed. Here," Mike stood up, and held out the hyper charge piston. "For your time."

"Keep it Chilton. It's not often I get someone interested in hearing a little history about our fair city. But don't say I didn't warn you about the Highwaymen."

"Will do."

The Burners exited the room, and Chuck was already looking up the lead. "Yeah it's pretty far out. I don't like this Mike, it's a little close to where the Scavengers are."

"We'll keep our eyes sharp. If these guys think we're invading their territory, we'll send out a hail. They should listen, especially if the two names we received belonged to their members."

"... Y' think that any of them could be the missing Big Seven?" Dutch brought up as they walked through the lobby.

"Dunno. Only one way to find out."

"Hey Ladies, pick up the pace!" Texas hollered, already half way across the parking lot. "We're burning daylight an' Texas don't like wasting time!"

Dutch let out a long sigh. "I'll call Tenny, tell 'er I'm gonna be a little late for our date."

Mike nodded, but his lips were thin. Hopefully the Highwaymen were still there, and hopefully this wasn't a trap.

Rayon dismissed his #2 and #3 as he finished eating dinner in the dining lounge. They nodded, and departed, going to take their breaks. The man stood, a maid for the motel taking his dishes with pleasantries exchanged. He exited the dining room, walked down the hall, shoulders sagging and hands clenched tightly at his eyes. Chilton's words rattled in his head.

"How do you know so much?” 

He looked up, across the lobby, and remembered. He remembered the stairs, running up them, past talking men covered in tattoos and smelling like gasoline. He darted past leather clad bodies, over to the meeting room. He knelt, peeked in. He saw the Seven in their prime, gathered around the table with papers strewn out, talking. 

"... Looks risky. Think we can map this route?"

"I can send some of my men to scout."

"Bring timers too. We need to know if this saves us time, or makes us lose-- Rayon Cyrus Jones!” His mother saw him, a frown spreading across her face. “It’s long past your bedtime young man!” She turned her head, “Be back inna sec guys!” And went to the boy. She practically loomed over him as she pulled him up by the arm. “Come on, let’s go.” 

In present time, Rayon followed his memory, to a room long since cleaned up and cleared out. He hesitated to open it, but eventually followed through. He didn’t see the empty motel room, he saw his room. The colorful rug, the box of toys, the big heavy TV set on the dresser… 

“Now be a good boy, stay in bed for me, m’kay?” 

“Sorry mama.”

“I know you wanna grow up fast an’ help us out, but if you wanna grow up faster you need sleep! You want these sides to stretch out like your daddy’s yeah?” She tickled them, making the six year old laugh. She then kissed his head. “Try to sleep baby, even if you’re not tired, m’kay?” 

“Yeah mama. Love you.”

“Love you too baby boy.” She stood up, and his eyes went down to her arm, to her tattoo of a white rabbit dashing across her bicep. 

Rayon slammed the door shut in reality and slammed it on his memory. His hands shook. “How do you know so much?” 

He knew more than he did when he was a child. He wished he didn’t.