I hate sand.

*Chk!*

*Chk!*

*Chk!*

Ori grunts as he tears out the last of the abandoned building's wiring, tearing a dozen or so feet straight from the infrastructure. He bundled it up and shoves it into the duffle bag at his hip with a sigh, "Should be enough...?"

It'd been a week since they'd been run outta the city, Arasaka was as relentless as their reputation suggested, enough that they were still being chased even after they passed the state line. They were lucky AVs had a limited range due to how much fuel they used, forcing Arasaka to employ good old cars, trucks, and other vehicles.

Thankfully, Arasaka's grip didn't extend over the entire desert, even their satellites weren't all that useful due to the almost constant sand storms. While these did obscure the from sight, it was also heavily waring on Falco's truck, which led to why Ori was scavenging materials now.

They had started to run out of fuel a couple days in, but Ori revealed his strange talent of pissing CHOOH2. He probably should've explained himself instead of straight up pissing into the fuel inlet, the 'Falco punch' he'd received was almost on the level of Maine.

The only real problem with that method was their other lack of supplies, food. As you could probably expect, food in the desert was stupidly hard to find, especially so after all the Corpo Wars tore previously inhabitable land apart. There was only so much nuclear radiation the environment could take before it simply gave up.

He required enough food for several men to keep refuelling the truck as he had, and the only reason they hadn't all died yet was that they'd stumbled upon a small Nomad caravan that'd 'donated' their materials.

All in all though, no one was happy with the situation. Sleeping under the stars in the desert was only fun once every few years, it certainly didn't stand up multiple days in a row. Add the almost daily sand storms which forced everyone to huddle inside Falco's truck and the discontent was serious.

Glaring up at the hostile sun, he hefts his duffle bag and makes his way over to the temporary camp the group had made. David was sat with Lucy as she tried to pick up stray signals, the lack of any nearby transmitters had essentially deafened them to anything happening on the Net, as a Netrunner Lucy was like an amputee, and only David's close company had helped her reconcile the loss of an important sense.

Rebecca and Pilar were out also scavenging for shit Falco had put on the list, they'd driven over a piece of scrap metal a day ago which'd punched a hole into the gas tank dwindling their also small reserves.

He spotted Maine sitting by himself on a rock under the sun, habitually clasping and unclenching his fist as he stared at it. The guy hadn't been the same since Dorio's death, while everyone had been affected to some extent, she was Maine's lover first and foremost.

They'd managed to bury her on an unnamed hill three days in, but the funeral had been cut short by a small fleet of Arasaka vehicles, which they'd barely evaded thanks to a dust storm. Maine had said he was fine when asked, but Ori was seriously worried about him.

Something vital they lacked was Immunosuppressants, which were a requirement for anyone with extensive Cyberware. David only needed small doses every now and then, same with Lucy, but Pilar, Rebecca, and most of all, Maine, required regular doses to keep themselves running.

That wasn't to say they'd die without it, but over time the effects would start to add up. The Nomad caravan had a small amount in stock, but the amount Maine used was quickly biting into their supply.

Letting out a sigh, he walks past Maine and to Falco who had his upper body buried under the hood of his truck. "I found some cables."

"Hm? Ah, good. Strip the insulation from 'em and hand it to me." the man replies, not even looking at him.

Ori nods, dexterously stripping the materials with his Monowire, the monomolecular string easily completing the job. "How's it looking?"

"Mmph, patched up the hole in the tank but it's a half-measure. Battery's almost dead, there's no coolant, and I'm pretty sure the damn engine's started to melt... So, better than I thought we'd be doing." he summarises.

"To be fair, I didn't think we'd make it out of the city. The thing'd probably be a ton-lighter if we removed all the lead they shot at us from it."

"Heh, you're probably right, but I'm unsure if those bullets are helping hold it together." he jokes and pulls back, slamming the hood back down. He wipes some oil from his face with his now filthy shirt and surreptitiously glances around the campsite, "How's the crew doing. Been too busy to ask, even if I wasn't, I don't think going anywhere near Maine is a good idea right now. He and Dorio weren't sweethearts, but a loss is a loss."

Ori shrugs, leaning against the searingly hot truck, "We need Immunoblockers. I trust them but I'd rather not have potential Cyberpsycho's at my back. I remember Regina saying trauma could kick-start it, something like losing a loved one... That's ignoring the risk of their bodies rejecting their implants, David and Lucy are probably okay, but Rebecca and Pilar are chromed up to the gills."

"What about you? You're not exactly 'ganic? 'Least, never seen a regular guy piss fuel." he queries lightly.

Ori rolls his black-plated wrist, "I'm highly compatible with all my chrome, I'd probably die of old age before my body started rejecting it."

"If there's anything left of your body, we all saw you get blasted, no way anyone but a full-borg could survive that!" a voice from the back of the truck makes itself known.

"Not dead yet, huh, Christy?"