New World Disorder

Chapter Thirteen

"I was wondering if you ..." She trailed off noticing that several people had stopped and were pointing to the sky. Oran looked up and saw an armed high-tech drone like nothing he had ever seen descending towards the school. An energy weapon of some sort was powering up.

"Incoming!" he cried out. "Take cover!"

Several other people were offering similar warnings. Everyone else was more sensibly scattering. The first plasma bolt exploded the courtyard pavement, sending chunks of debris in several directions. Oran started pushing people towards the building. The twins had moved in a different direction. He assumed they were moving to get free of the crowd, so they could change into their costumes. The drone must be after them? he thought.

Then he realized it was following him.

"What the FUCK!" he shouted as another bolt vaporized metal table.

He bounced off a pillar to change direction and made for the fence. He needed to get away from the others if he was the target. Before the machine could fire again he was over the twelve-foot iron fence and into the street. Cars were scattering or being abandoned as people ran for shelters marked with the blue triangle around a white 'CP', standard response for a super attack in the city. Almost every building had an emergency shelter of some sort. Some, like the school's, were private and marked with a red circle, while other with a blue circle took in anyone.

Oran moved as quickly as he could, drawing the drone away from the crowds. He turned down an alley with turned out to be a dead end. A plasma bolt crashed into him. His body absorbed its energy, leaving nothing but a puff of inert gas. That energy supercharged his system, causing him to turn blue.

Over the weeks he had practiced enough that his clothes automatically transformed into his costume. This was his finished outfit, with multiple storage pods on his golden belt, red stripes down the outsides of his arms and legs, and a gold modified Greek style helmet that left the bottom half of his face open, while covering the rest of his head. The helm contained several electronic and other devices Cobalt and the Couturier suggested.

The transformation did not seem to confuse the drone, which continued its attack. Pulsar activated his force field and took to the air. He concentrated on condensing his energy blast into a focused laser, aiming at the drone's plasma weapon. The fraction of a second's delay allowed the device to dodge.

Unfortunately for Oran's hope to capture the device relatively undamaged, it dodged into an explosive burst from Bombshell, and was sent careening out of control. It crashed into a wall and rolled to the ground.

The demolition damsel was hovering beside a fire escape balcony, from which Oddball was hanging in his were-pangolin form. Oran realized they must have seen him transform. Shit! I really suck at this secret identify thing.

The drone started to rise into the air again, another weapon appeared from the fuselage, this one pointing at Bombshell. Her brother took offence and bounced into it, once again smashing it into the cement.

So much for evidence, Oran thought, then sent a full pulse blast at the still-moving wreckage.

"Damn, Pulsar," Oddball said after reverting to his human form. "Don't you think that may have been overkill? We were rethinking having something left to analyze might be a good thing."

"Not to mention someone is going to have to repair that massive crater," Bombshell chimed in.

"This from the flying cluster bomb," Pulsar griped.

"Hey!"

"Ha!"

"Sorry," Oran said. "You're right. I just got over excited."