Canidae

Rugar attemps to gather the remaining humans from the dying Earth in the mainline dimension and use them to destroy everyone on Prismona.
Jenna is the first person unless otherwise noted.


Story! (Jenna!)

We stand next to the mailbox, Lyra, Sirian, and I.

"Mom?" Siri gripes. "Why can't dad just take us to school instead of riding the crummy school bus?"

"Because we both have things to do to keep this family going." I explain, matter-of-factly. "You just need to worry about those A's."

"They're just B minuses! Ford, mom! I'm not failing or anything!"

"You know we'll be even prouder, if that's even possible." I wink as I hear the bus driving up our block. "And you know you just want to be seen with your dad."

"In dad's truck, mom. Do you see the looks the chicks give me?" The bus pulls up and stops with a mild hiss.

"We can talk girls later, sweet pea. Take your sister." Sirian heaves a sigh before grabbing Lyra's hand irritably.

"We get to make princesses today!" She yips.

"Not now, Lyra!" Siri grumbles before the bus doors close.

"Have fun at school!" I shout as it drives up the road. As it goes around the corner, I look up the road in the other direction. No cars. I glance back down the road. No cars. Content, I whistle to the mailbox and look inside. "Hm... Junk mail, junk mail, Jorgen, me, me, me, yours truly, mortgage, overdue property payment, me, me, and who else? Me!" I open the first envelope with my name on it. It was a scam saying I could qualify for a free Celestian Sea cruise. "Heh, sorry, bub. Like that will ever happen!" The rest carry inside. The 4 dogs lay around, lazily as usual. I notice Logan had been packing on some weight. I give him a shocked look. "Logan! Where did you get all those rolls? Are you a German Shepherd or a German Sharpei?"

"I'm not telling." Lo yawns.

"Is it the old lady again? Her and her pot roasts!" I grumble.

"No, but I can't wait until it is!"

"Hoo, just forget asked! Go ahead! Die at 5 years of age from a triple by-pass!" I slap the mail on the counter. "Jorgen!! There's a mail for yoooooou!"

"I think he's in the garage working on himself as usual." Trace mutters, half asleep.

"Not sure what he would have done with his time of Everest hadn't let him keep his old truck body." Intrepid agrees. "He mentioned something about a sub-woofer, whatever he means." I check the time; it was now 7 AM.

"Why is he doing this when we have to leave for work in an hour?" I moan. "Jorgen!! If you're working on your truck naked, put some shorts on! Or don't! I don't care; the kids are on the bus!" The only response I get is a big clatter.

"Ack!" I hear Jorg crow before yelling a few German curses. I cautiously peek inside the garage and chuckle at what I found. Even the dogs peer in, and break out panting. Jorgen hopped around in the middle of the garage, as a human, of course, holding an empty cardboard box that the bottom fell out of, causing its contents to spill onto the floor--and his foot.

"...Are you okay?" I wonder. Jorg looks up and smiles, despite still having tears of pain in his eyes.

"I miss not having to worry about falling, feet crushing objects." He admits, now standing on his fake leg while massaging the hurt one. "Did you put kids on bus?"

"Yep. They are on their way off to the brain wash house, living like the humans they aren't. By the way, something came in the mail for you, if you can hobble in here to get it." Jorg tentatively steps on the floor with his hurt foot before nodding and gimping over.

"That is a rarity." He chuckles. "I never get mail. It is always for you, Engel." He curiously

"There's a reason." I remind, handing him the envelope. Jorg opens it while I go through the remaining mail in my hand.

"Hm." Jorgen mutters, eyeing his letter, looking unsure whether to be excited or to be put off. "There is school luncheon today?"

"There is?" I echo. "Sirian never told me!"

"Do you wonder why?"

"Nope. Let's crash his lunch, then; despite his lack of mentioning. He's eating, then we blow in. 'Mom? Dad? What are you guys doing here?""

"Do not forget the dogs need to be at the groomer's by 2. And for some reason, the strange man next door has invited me over at 6."

"That's great, Jorgie! The new neighbors like you!" I laugh. He looked offended.

"Like?" He echoes. "The tailpipes should know have a partner!!"

"No! No! Like as in friends, Jorg!" Trace pleads. "They have no interests in you! Or else they better not."

"You should really bake some cookies for the old pot roast lady." Logan sighs, dreamily. "She's awesome!"

"Maybe this weekend when we're off and not working overtime, Lo gaine." I sigh, patting his head. "This boat is really going down the rapids right now. I wish I listened to my mom about life skills!"

"We do have life skills." Intrepid reminds.

"Those skills have been put to rest." Jorg presses. "We are not going back. I do not want Sirian or Lyra to be put back in that lifestyle. Sirian already had to see somebody get killed right in front of him--because of him!"

"And Lyra can never know our pasts." agree, darkly. "So now we're stuck here, living the same life came to Prismona to escape from. Figures."

"All we have to worry about these days are shootings." Trace says, sarcastically. "If there's gonna be shootings anywhere you go, you might as well be the shooters--of evil!"

"We aren't discussing this right now." point. "We might be in turbulent waters, but we aren't taking on water yet. Green Acres will always be an option, yes. But we're a happy family of fake humans in a fake sanctuary city, now. We made the best choice we could. Now you normal dogs go outside and do your business."

"Yeah, yeah. Outside! Because the toilet is outta the question!" Logan grumbles, leading the way outside.

"Hey, we have dogs!" I call after him. "There have to be turds out there somewhere!" Old Intrepid just slams the door in response. "And whatever you did to yourself, put it back together. My old body is having brake issues. Put down that I need to go to the shop." We both quietly snort in amusement.

"Sounds painful." Jorg winks.

"Hey, who knows? At least I'm not suffering. My poor old aging truck body, though. Isn't she gorgeous?"

"You miss being her."

"Yeah, I do. And neither of us can deny tha; or deny missing yourself, either." Just then, the phone system starts chiming.

"Call from GAT." The sultry computer voice warns.

"GAT?" We echo.

"GAT." The phone confirms.

"Or is it The A Team?" Jorg whispers.

"G. A. T." The phone repeats.

"I heard GAT!" point. "Answer it!"

"No! You answer! I am taking shower!"

"No you're not!" I prove. He takes his shirt off and chucks it at me.

"Yes I am!" He cheers.

---

"...Mom?" A guy wonders.

"Everest! Hey! Long time, no call!" I say, lightly. "What's up?" Jorgen peeks around the door frame.

"What does he want?" He silently mouths. I shrug as Everest continues.

"Sooooooo. Where's Silverhitch?"

"Jorgen? He's standing in the doorway naked wondering what you're calling for." Jorgen throws up his hands.

"I was in the shower!" He moans.

"Ah. Thanks for the image. Well, there's a...thing, this weekend." Ev continues. "At District 3."

"Really?" I blink. "What's up?"

"We're having a memorial luncheon!" I hear Bryson yip in the background.

"And we want you bros to come." Ev finishes, hopefully by his tone. "Please?"

"We were going to bake cookies for the old pot roast lady this weekend." I shrug.

"Who?"

"Oh, our neighbor. She's older than Ford and makes our dogs pot roasts. Don't ask why."

"Come on, mom! Can't that wait until Sunday?"

"Everest, you know we gave up the...veteran life. We can't go back. I do hope your lunch goes great. I'm just worried that, you know, old wounds will be opened up and new ones will appear."

"O-oh." Ev whimpers. "That is...that's fine, mom. I'm sorry you couldn't make it. Uh, there were many cars that really wanted to see you guys. Too many to list."

"I'm sure. But I've got to go, bud. Off to work! Well, if Jorg would hurry up and shower we would." I squint at him, expectantly.

"...I will go now." Jorg whistles and slowly creeps off.

"What if I came to visit you?" Ev wonders.

"Also not an option." I press. "If Lyra finds out--!"

"If she's at school, she won't."

"It's just too big of a risk, Ev. We can't come and you can't come here." I hang up the phone.

"Rate your call!" It cheers.

"No! I'm not rating the call, dang it!" I hiss.

So I get ready for work. We had lucked into the same job, which made things much easier. I brush my hair in the mirror as Jorg sings in the shower.

"I can't believe Ev wants us back I mutter, tying my hair back. "He knows what Sirian went through! The audacity, man!"

"We were two of their best." Jorgen reasons. "I am sure we are greatly missed, either by capabilities or just us."

"I know." I agree, looking myself in the eyes before starting on my makeup. "They all liked us really well, didn't they? I wonder how they felt when we told them about our plans to go away." He has a thoughtful pause before disdainfully snorting. "You okay in there, dingus?"

"Water up nose! Ack! I close eyes to think a second, and then I get water in nose!" I smile and roll my eyes.

"That big schnook of yours can find water to snort in a desert, doofus."

"Guh-huh, Engel. Much amused."

---

"Hey, uh, this is Jen!" I wave as Jorg steadily drives up the road. "I'm calling to ask about, uh, a possible quote on some brake work on my 2018 Ram 2500 Laramie Hemi?"

"What's the issue with your brakes?"

"When I brake, I hear an awful grinding noise. Also, eh-heh, U-joints."

"Where at?"

"Everywhere. The front driveshaft, the rear driveshaft, the front axle. Ev-er-ree where."

"Are Rams. Fords would have done dropped the shafts 2 years ago." Jorgen chuckles. I sock him in the shoulder, jokingly.

"Right now, your guesstimate would be somewhere around $600." I cringe.

"Hoo. $600? Crap. Put me in for the next available slot, if you would."

"The next available slot is this afternoon at 2pm, ma'am."

"That's fine, it's good."

---

Warning: adult humor ahead!


"Mom? Dad?" Sirian gapes before Lyra's eyes light up.

"Daddy! Mommy!" She crows, running over to crawl up my legs, practically.

"Oof! Lyra, geeze!" I giggle, picking her up. "You got that dumb move from daddy, you know that?"

"Sirian! Why did you not tell about today?" Jorgen waves, the other kids now looking over and gaping.

"...Well, uh, um, it was, guh-huh, ehh-"

---

"I'm 4, dad! I don't need my parents to show up at every luncheon!" Sirian hisses.

"You are 11, wee human." Jorg presses with a stern point, bouncing Lyra on his lap with his good knee. "Even if not, think about your sister! You were the only children in this school not eating with parents. Everyone will think you are orphans and principle will call and ask petty questions about home life!"

"Hey, this cardboard pizza isn't too bad, right?" I lightly point.

"Dip in ranch! You will like!" Lyra points.

"Guh. If you can call it ranch." Siri gags. "It's more like seasoned milk. Almond milk, probably."

"Almond milk?" Jorgen echoes, tilting his head comically. "Are almonds not nuts or are they new breed of cow or goat? Or sheep, even?"

"Almonds are still nuts, dad."

"...You can milk nuts?" The kids and parents behind us snort in amusement.

"Okay! We don't have three kids and a single mom." I sigh, patting poor Jorg on the arm. "We aren't talking about milk nuts." At once, we snort and crack up.

"Dairy nuts!" Sirian claps.

"We should go to a dairy nut show and show our nuts." I giggle.

"Is there a judge for the nut show, my devotion?" Jorgen winks. "Does he look at nuts and judge?"

"Not if they reach the height requirement. Otherwise, you're just going to get laughed right out of the show ring."

"No! No! Stop! I'm dying!" Siri yowls, nearly crying he was laughing so hard. Meanwhile, Lyra looks around, confused.

"Daddy, I don't get it." She admits.

"Good! Stay that way!" Jorg chuckles, wiping a tear off his face. "Ford--fork. Fork. And then we were never allowed back to another luncheon again."

---

"You're Sirian's parents, right?" A woman points, a girl Siri's age stankly standing behind her. We all pause, mouths stuffed, and look up at her.

"Yers. Wher ers ersking?" I wonder.

"Just like him! Well, your son has been bullying my daughter!" The woman snaps.

"Hrm?!" Sirian yowls, spitting out his pizza. "Wha--no I have not!"

"Then what do you call what you said to her this morning?"

"I do not care what son did; do not talk to him like that." Jorgen snarls.

"She was harassing me!" Sirian pleads. "She always harasses me! I finally stood up for my own tailga--tail, and she started crying like a wee baby!"

"That's not true!!" The girl roars, stomping her foot.

"See? She's the defensive one. You don't see me crying when a human brat antagonizes me, so."

"Make your son apologize, or I'll have him expelled!!" The mom orders, enraged. We exchange knowing looks, and Jorgen covers Lyra's ears.

"Say la, la, la very loud." He winks. "Bet you cannot do louder than mommy can."

"LA LA LA LA!!" Lyra cheers.

"Audien, go over there."

---

"Hey, lady? Why don't you, uh, stick a sock in it and mind your own bees, eh?" I wave, lightly as Lyra continues. "We're both ex veterans, and you don't want to (take a whizz) us off. Take your little crotch goblin, get her an ice cream, and keep her away from our children. Better yet, teach her some manners, or at least make sure she has the (definitely said diff, not the human version) to counter the kids she bullies when they spit back instead of bursting into tears." The woman gapes in realization as she looks between Jorg and I, both of us smugly looking at her as Lyra still sings loudly.

"Yes, Green Acres." Jorgen nods, sweetly. "You have guessed correct. Beat it, Bozo." As she walks away, I slowly look over at Jorgen, questioningly.

"...Bozo?"

"As in the clown."

"Did I win against mommy?" Lyra finally wonders as he takes his hands off her ears.

"Nope. But you were close, Engel blossom. Eat broccoli. Do not think you can distract daddy from your uneaten veggies."

"Pffffffftttt! Eat your own veggies first, daddy!"

"Am saving for mommy. She loves the broccoli."

"Then am giving mine to mommy, too!"

"Mommy only wants my broccoli. You must eat your own!"

"You wonder why I didn't tell you about the lunch." Sirian grumbles, covering his eyes as I smile and shake my head at the practical twins in hating vegetables.

"Next time, just come to us, doof. Don't even bother getting the principal or a teacher; we'll take care of it." I remind. "Jorgen? Eat your broccoli."

"But Jen!" He cries as Ly cracks up.

"Eat your trees, both of you! Ford, live with twin two year olds. Doofus."

---

"You can go ahead if you want." I wave before resting my head on my hands. "I'm just gonna, uh, stick around and watch them work on her." Jorgen thoughtfully sits in the seat right next to me and also leans forwards to rest his head on his hands and mirror the expression I had.

"...You know that I will stay. I am not going to leave you here alone to sadly watch strange men work on old body, my devotion." He glumly nods. "Strange, non-Houstin or Cliff men. Sometimes I wish we could still call. I can imagine how much they miss if Everest calls."

"Probably just you, homewrecker." I tease, leaning into him.

"No. They miss you, Jen. Me, perhaps somewhat. But it is you that they miss most of all. You cannot deny."

"I miss me, too." I admit, looking at my body again. "What's it like to be you, Jorgen? Sure, I've always been human. But you were born a truck. You were born with the knowledge that your image in the mirror is that big, white beast. And now, here we both are: weak, puny nothings that can't kill a fly without a weapon. I just hope the kids look back one day and realize how good parents we were." Jorgen chuckles and hugs me.

"Jen. I am doing for you most of all. I know it is what you wanted, and if partnership is pretty much same thing as ownership, then I am always going to do what you wish. As long as this is true, I am happy. You, too, should be happy. And also, you forget that even though most humans are puny nothings, your partner is not so much. I actually forgot I could lay arm over hood of myself; who do you call puny, my devotion?"

"I love you so much, doofus. Sure, I could have stayed on Earth for the same life, but that wouldn't be true because I wouldn't have you. It doesn't matter to me if you're happy where I am; I'm happier being where you are. Even if you were a puny nothing; Ford, there's nobody alive I love more."

---

KAAAA-BOOOOOOM!! A huge torpedo blows up the New Times Square. People scream in terror as a huge sky scraper falls like a tipping tree. Fires rage everywhere. We duck down behind an abandoned car and peer around it at the school. Buses swarm in to evacuate the kids.

"Engel, normally would have you stay here." Jorg bristles. "But this time, asking you that would be a stupid mistake. Stick with me. No matter what happens, stick with me! Okay?"

"No problem!" I gulp as a rocket whizzes passed the school, a very near hit. It explodes into the city.

"Let us haul! Only now, slightly less quickly."

"Be careful!" Logan hisses. "We'll hold up the fort, but you better come back!" We swiftly crawl from the parking lot up to the entrance. Inside, the lights flicker ominously. Kids scream in terror as teachers just up and leave them.

"Sirian?! Lyra?!" Jorgen roars.

"Momeeee!!" A little boy, younger than Sirian, screams from under a table in the hallway. Sirens wail outside, warning of another attack.

"Jorgen, that boy!" I point, wide eyed. "Who's watching him?!"

"Who is watching our children?" He pleads. "He will get picked up! But we must find Sirian and Lyral"

"Dad!!" That voice sighs in utter relief. I gasp as Sirian and Lyra come racing up the hall, Lyra frantically dragging her pink backpack behind her.

"Kids!!" I shriek. "Hoh-lee Dodge, you're okay!!" They fly into our arms, shaking in total terror.

"Dad, what's going on?!" Sirian wails. "Somebody's attacking the school!!"

"Somebody is attacking the planet." Jorgen corrects, now looking around urgently. "Engel, we must go. We must go now!"

"This way!!" I order before the whole left side of the school is blown up. Cinderblocks from the wall beside us fly into the hall, and the force of the explosion knocks us down. After a brief moment of terror, we check ourselves and decide nobody was hurt.

"Much uh oh!" Jorgen moans as I stand up from shielding Sirian. I look down to see a pile of fully intact cinderblocks had gnarled his aluminum prosthetic leg beyond use or repair. He jerks on the strap that kept hold on what was left of his real leg, but it wouldn't break loose. He starts panicking, then. "It is jammed! I cannot get it!"

"Okay! Okay! Hang on!" I hiss, jumping down to help him. "Sirian! Does anybody need help?"

"No." He whispers. "They were all dead." I try pulling on the strap myself, but it was no use; a cinderblock had hit and crushed the metal buckle. I utter a curse.

"I'm gonna have to cut this." I warn as I pull out my pocket knife and sever the strap. With a lurch, Jorgen breaks free and crab walks backwards a few feet before bracing himself on my shoulder to get up. "Are you okay?"

"I am fine, Engel. Much thanks." He assures, thankfully laying his head on mine. "Now let us go!" We run or hobble as fast as we could towards the exit. On our way out, the little boy cried under the table in darkness, as the power went out with the explosion. Sirian stares hard at the boy as we pass him before running over and grabbing his hand.

"Sirian!" Jorgen howls before the ceiling collapses.

"Jorgen, take Lyra and get to the truck!!" I scream. "GO!! I got them!!"

"I cannot leave you here!!" Jorg cries.

"GO!!!" I was already digging through rubble. "I'm right behind you, Jorgie!!"

"Daaaaadddeeee!!" Lyra wails in panic. "Mommmmeeeee!!" Jorg gapes towards the exit before squinting, throwing Lyra over his shoulder, and diving down beside me to help dig out our son.

"Leaving you and son would not be the Ram thing to do." He jokingly grunts.

"Hard head." I agree. "It's the only thing stronger than your arms, dingus." Sirian and the boy suddenly burst from the foam insulation, ceiling panels, and concrete, coughing but alive. I scoop them both up.

"I told to not get!" Jorg hisses at Siri as we continue running/gimping.

"I couldn't not get him, dad! What do you take me as, a Ford--I mean foreigner?"

"Do not use that tone on me!"

"Can we not argue right now?" I moan. "Nobody is in a good position to be arguing!" Overhead, I hear a loud sheeew! There was a missile being deployed. "RRRRRUUUUUUUUNNN!!" I scream as we jump out of the school. BOOOOOOOOOOM!! The ground shakes as it and over half the city is annihilated. Jorgen uses the crystal and goes full Ram. Without any time to ask, we all jump in. I have to shove Intrepid into his bed, but then Jorg slams his tailgate and we were off before I could scarcely shut the door. Enemy fighters swarm the once great city of Miami.

"Where's daddy?!" Lyra shrieks.

"Long story, pumpkin." I gulp. "Jorgen, talk to her!"

"Daddy is here, Lyra." Jorg assures over his speakers. "Guh-huh; it may sound funny, but daddy is the truck you are in!" Lyra's eyes widen.

"Daddy?" She gasps. "Oh my!"

"Well that was easier than I expected." Logan pants, popping his head into Jorg's cab from the back. "Now what?"

"Logi! You talk!" Lyra blinks, in shock.

"It's going to be a very long ride." Sirian moans.

"Your family is nuts!!" Auden roars.

"Yeah, we aren't the most normal family on the block." Sirian hisses.

"Wait, how is daddy a truck?" Lyra wonders, like she was missing something. "Was daddy always the truck?"

"Your daddy is a mythical beast." I assure. "I know he's a freak, but we still love him." Lyra hugs Jorg's seat.

"Yay, daddy!" She yips. TATATATA!! I look out the sunroof to see a fighter dive in after us.

"Hold on!!" Jorgen snarls before we veer off the road. With a huge lurch, we jump over the guard rail and land on the median. We then pull a U-ie, jump that rail, and dive into a tunnel. The fighter, its wings too wide to pursue, stops at the entrance. Jorgen picks up the speed, his diesel engine echoing loudly off the tunnel walls. The dogs fly to one side of the bed as we whip around after exiting the tunnel. Tires squeal as Jorg stops abruptly and spins around. Fighters fly at us in a line ahead. "Close your ears; it is about to get loud." Jorgen draws his guns and opens fire. TATATATATA!! The ripping, tactical 798's tear up the frontal fighters, which crash into the others like a domino effect.

But before we could continue up the road, a cell tower comes crashing down, ripping up the road.

"Grab onto something, kids!" I yowl as Jorg has no other choice but to erect his wings. Lyra's eyes widen so big, I was wondering how her eyes kept from popping out of her head. Sam and Auden scream as we take off and stream over the gnarled metal cage and into open sky. Smoke filled the atmosphere, but we soon break into the blue above the clouds.

"...Where are we going?" Auden gulps as Lyra happily hugs Jorgen's seat again.

"We are on our way to Green Acres District 3." Jorg explains. "It seems that no matter how far we run from our old life, we are dragged back to it, huh, Engel?"

"Yeah. I guess life callings never stop ringing." I smile.

"Wait, wait, wait. Green Acres?" Auden gapes.

"Ex Dodge Commander Silverhitch." Jorg explains. "Nice to meet."

"And his ex-sexy-side-kick, Silveramour." I greet. "Now. Is anybody remotely hurt?"

"I have a bruise." Sirian calls.

"Sam's in shock." Auden gulps. "I hit my head."

"I lost my leg. Again." Jorg snorts.

"And I think I have amnesia!" Logan cries. "Who are you people?!"

"Logan, you were fine a second ago!" I moan.

"WHO?! Who are you?!" Intrepid slaps him. WAP-WAP! "Oh, hi, guys. Sorry." Logan pants. All the kids, even Sam, giggle.

---

"We are here." Jorgen calls as we dive below the clouds. "Welcome--and welcome back--to District 3." To my relief, Greenton was still intact, untouched by weaponry, even. The residents bustle around, busier than usual but that could be expected whenever the great district sensed a war on the horizon like a thunderhead. The kids gape out the window as Sirian smugly grins.

"That's awesome!" Auden gasps before nervously frowning "Wait, they're all cars, too, right? Will they like us?"

"Of course." I assure. "Cars are like big, dumb kids themselves. Adults we're wary of, but we all love kids. Some are big like my Jorgie and will still accidentally knock you down trying to nuzzle you, but they're all good cars. They would never harm a defenseless child." We land in front of the welcoming center, and everybody jumps out.

"Wow. We're really here!" Aud whispers as Jorg retracts his wings and looks around, curiously. "It's the legendary District 3!"

"Not so much legendary to us." Sirian assures.

"Intruders!! Code Red!!" A voice bellows. We whip around as a small army of enraged, bristling trucks and SUVS surround us, guns drawn.

"Hey!! Hey, hey, woah!!" I yowl, shocked. "Guys!! It's Jen and Jorgen! Silveramour and Silverhitch!!"

"Jen?" A familiar crimson Suburban echoes in realization. "Jen! Jenna!! You guys came back! You're alive!" Arcan the 'Burb happily breaks formation to charge over and happily rub his fender on my side.

"Arcan! It's so good to see you, doof!" The others shrug and draw back their weapons. "Sorry it was so short notice, but our city was destroyed. We barely escaped with these kids."

---

"And you must be Sirian and Lyra!" Hurricane continues, eyes wide in awe. "You got so big, Sirian! I bet you'll be your dad's size in a heartbeat!"

"This is so great!" Vix dances, now eagerly greeting the kids and the dogs. He vigorously shakes Auden's hands, and about knocks Sam flat shaking his hands! "This is absolutely awesome! You came just in time!"

"In time for what?" I blink, Sam dizzily spinning around as Vix goes onto the dogs. Lyra giggles and stops him.

"You'll take over Commandership again, right?" Hurricane wonders. "Spike is great, but he agreed that if you ever came back, you needed to resume your throne."

"I do not know if I ever could." Jorg shyly admits. "And I only came back not knowing where else to go where my family could be safe."

"Is it true?! Is it true?!" Someone yowls as the door gets barged open. Doremon races in, goes wide eyed, and squeals. "Jen!! JEN!! Hoh-lee Kia!!"

"Hey, Dore!!" I crow. Jorg watches in amusement as we happily hug. "It's so good to see you! How are you, dingus?"

"I'm great! I'm just great!" Dore assures. "Sorry, Jorgen."

"Do not stop on my account." He bows. "But you better hug me, too!"

"Wait, oh no." Dore gulps as Jorg goes human to wrap his arms around both of us. "Yeah, you're still the moron that left, Silverhitch!"

"I know it. It is good to be home again." Jorg smiles.

"Okay, okay. Ease up on the man hug, moron. I can't breathe!" Jorg lets go, and Doremon heaves. "Thanks!" Echo and Desiree trot in, too.

"Siri! Hi!" Des yips. "What's up, little brother?"

"You're getting big" Echo agrees. "How old are you, now? 5? Really?"

"Yeah, I'm 5." Siri bows. Tycho barges in, leading in the rest of the old Eathen gang, flanked by Amadeus.

"Jorgen!!" He squeals. "Jen!!"

"Tycho!" Jorg gasps. The two happily hug before Am jumps in, too.

"It's the brotherhood of muscle, dudes!" Schickard sings, also getting into the group hug. "Jorg! Welcome back! We missed ya!" I smile and shake my head as the four old friends casually back off and fist bump.

"I am sorry for such circumstances being the only reason we are back." Jorg admits, "It was for Lyra, you know."

"Unde Spike! Uncle Spike!" Siri crows, happily hounding Spike.

"Hey, there, little man!" Spike chuckles. "Hoo, you're getting tall!"

"Would you mind taking the kids and giving them a tour for a moment, Shick?" Jorg wonders. "We must have a private discussion they should not hear."

"Awww! I wanna hear!" Siri cries. "Dad, please!"

"Nope. Not listening!"

"I'll take them to Cesal's diner, dude." Shick bows. "Come on, kids! Let's go get a hot fudge sundae!"

"Ooh! I like!" Lyra gasps. The three kids eagerly follow Schick as he herds up Sirian and drive out the door.

"So what are you thinking?" I ask. "Who is it attacking us?"

"It's Rugar." Everest nods, driving in. "It's been confirmed. The fighters are his. He's hooked up with the humans and joined forces to destroy Prismona." We respectfully bow.

"Rugar. So it is him." Jorg snorts. "Just as I thought."

"I'm guessing you two are eager to jump back into where you left off?" We exchange unsure looks before shrugging at the same time.

"Eh. We came, we saw, and we figure we might as well give it a shot." I nod. The others clap in glee as Everest sighs in relief. We must have been a huge loss to the district when we left.

"Awesome, bro. Welcome back, mom. Silverhitch. And Sirian." We whip around to see the kid smugly peering in.

"Sirian!" Jorg hisses.

"I heard." Siri waves, strongly walking back in with the same, proud stride he shared with his father. "And I can help now, dad. My uncle died for me at the treads of that Lexus. I'm not stopping until I avenge his death." He goes Ram, albeit quite a small Ram compared to some of the beasts in the room, and draws his guns.

"...Okee." I gape as even Jorg blinks, stunned. "Well, uh, you'd better consult your commanders for training, young sir!"

"Sure thing, mom." He beams as he turns around, but whips back around to face us. "Sirian, future Silvergrace, reporting to duty, sir!"

Let the games begin, they say.


Meanwhile! (Schickard!)

"It smells good in here." Auden notices as we pull into the diner. Lyra skips in behind her, holding Sam's hand. He looked a bit less nervous than he did when they pulled in. "Cesal's burgers. Those are the best burgers in Greenton 3." I nod.

"Where did Siri go?" Lyra wonders before the smallish gold HD trots in, too.

"Sorry. I had to talk to dad." He admits. The kids gape at him, amazed.

"Sirian?" Audie breathes.

"Bubby?" Ly gasps. Siri bows, the light glinting on his shiny black side view mirrors, folded completely out like Jorgen always has his.
Now that Siri was older, he really was gold Jorg.

"You asked and I never got a chance to answer." He admits, pulling in beside us to lovingly bump his sister with his fender. She squeals and happily hugs him the best she could. "How's uncle Schickard? Did you order yet?"

"Not yet. We were hoping you'd return to join us, Mini Jorg." He chuckles. "Ford, have I dreamed for years to be an uncle! Being an uncle is better than being a dad; you can give them back after you get tired of them. Well, what's on your list?" Cesal drives out before looking dead at Sirian.

"Bro! Who is this?" He lightly points. "Sirian? Is that you? I didn't know you bros came back!"

"Parents are going to a meeting." Siri nods, proudly.

---

"It's been awhile since we've attended a meeting." I notice as we watch all the commanders, of both make and model, worriedly file into the town hall. "Guess if we gotta get back into the swing of things, we'd better start here."

"Hope all will listen." Jorgen sighs

"Dude, did you see their reactions when we came back? I don't think they'll ever not listen again." We trot towards the hall ourselves, Jorg slightly hesitating.

"I hope. Very much so." He mutters. We drive inside, the echoing of fretful voices in the large, open building pouring out as soon as we push the doors open. Everyone pauses to turn around and look at us.

"Jorg! Jen!" Felix heaves in relief, darting over to usher us in. "Glad you came! I'm all by my lonesome over here; Tycho is trying to calm down Polaris."

"If we had just stayed our tailgates up north, we would have nevernbeen involved!" Polaris yowls as Tycho tries to nuzzle him.

"We'd be screwed there, too, brah." He reminds.

"W-w-well, if we had stayed on El Dorado!"

"Then we'd be screwing GAT, brah." Po lets out a desolate whimper. "We can't do it without you, Polaris. You're the greatest Chevy commander here!" We join Felix in our designated Ram-only parking area, amongst the other Chrysler and Chrysler sub-makes. We were between the Jeeps and the Dodges. Grassly, Graiden, and Arlo glance over and sigh in relief.

"Man, it's a wack house in here." Grass frets. "Everyone is so tense!"

"Not even the luxuries are bickering today." Arlo agrees, nodding to the Lincolns and Cadillacs towards the front, nearest to the stage. For once, Bryce and Dorian were too busy focusing on their leader to start trouble, Scott more preoccupied with nervously chatting to Craigar.

"Okay! Let's start this impromptu meeting on a light note!" Everest calls. Instantly, we all quiet down and look up at him. "The Guard has been notified. They are working on evacuating possibly targeted cities to other planets nearby. There will be less civilians to worry about, at least." We bow, thankful for something to be happy about.

"No more school bombings." Jorgen slumps.

"Another light note is the fact that our techs at base are working on finding Rugar's motive and possible future movements. If we take away his targets before he can hit them, what else can he do, bro? Now, go ahead and share anything you might find helpful with the room, commanders. Similar experiences, possible guesses on motive, personal familiarity with our enemy?"

"Once, and I say it was while back ago," Valor waves, trotting up to the stage. "Rugar mentioned a possible plot. At the time, I was for sure he was joking, but he did happen to mention taking advantage of the human race in an alternate dimension; one that earth was falling apart in. He'd conjure up the race into an army and destroy Prismona, them believing they're purging the planet of impure, destructive beings so they themselves could survive. He then chuckled and rolled his eyes and proceeded to set an MKZ's trunk on fire and make him dance for the empire's entertainment. So you can guess why I doubted the Lexus."

"I remember that." Thorn notices.

BRIINNNG!! BRIINNNG!! A shattering alarm starts blaring, causing any car with courage left to crouch and fearfully cower.

"We got fighters heading for D-3!!" Liam screams. "ETA is 5 minutes!!" Everest gapes, frozen in terror, unable to bark an order. Nobody else looked able to throw out a command, either. I whip around, sensing all the fear in the air, and somehow, my essence finds a way to turn my own fear into rage.

"Green Acres!!" yowl. "CHARGE!!" Even more amazing was that nobody seemed to core who gave the order; they all snap out of their frozen dazes and nod.

"Chaaaaaaarrrge!!" Ev agrees. Jorgen gives me a surprised blink as everyone valiantly blazes by. I shrug.

"Well, someone had to say it!"

"Thanks, Jen!" Liam pants as he races by.

"Yeah! Joining in on the whoop-a-thon?!" Craigar agrees, dashing passed as well.

---

The wave of fighters dive in, determined to end us before we could be a threat.

"Man. You know, I look up at crap like this and think to myself, 'Ford, is it good to be home!" beam, dropping my wheel hooks.

"That must be how you know that you are truly Green Acres warrior!" Jorg chuckles, obviously feeling the same. "And you actually doubted yourself."

"That was back before I was trained by the biggest Doof hole in the universe." We both erect our wings and take off, not even finding a point in wasting time getting to a fighter.

---

"Everyone okay?!" Scott calls. One by one, some shaken and most still enraged, we all reply with accord. "Good. That was just a test attack; Rugar wasn't with them in that advance. Luckily, it seems he's retaining his pity on us for now." Still pumped, I strut around, unused to the way a Ram could get when it was still hyped from a fight and eager to rip into more.

It was a likeable feeling, however.

"Forgot how uppity we get when a fight ends abruptly." I tease. "I am never leaving this place again!"

"It helps the clan, seeing you two." Drake admits as Jorgen and I proudly butt fenders. "You're the only ones that forgot your truck instincts. While everyone else cowers around, you guys, still getting reused to being Rams, accidentally let your instincts of fearlessness and enemy-aggression overtake your consciousness. Being brave for everyone in their terror, they see that and gather courage, too." He smiles and bows. "We'd be dead without you, Jen. Jorg. Thank you."

"...Awe. Thanks, Drake. That means a slew." I bow, touched. "Even though I can't help it, we try."

"Now what?" Felix wonders. "What next? What if they round back?"

"...We still have allies." James breathes.

"What allies?" Everest yowls.

"Picture Doremon." Noah slyly smiles. "As a Jeep."