Boots on metal.

Two pairs of giant feet clambered down the ramp, slowly revealing their owners. Their height would have been enough to disclose the fact that they were Temelians, but their flat snouts, pointed ears, and tattooed arms confirmed it. Temelians were essentially bipedal pigs, only slightly more intelligent. Excepting their arms and faces, the huge beasts were nearly covered in armor. Each one cradled a phase rifle, though, in their hands, they looked more like squirt pistols.

They stopped at the front corners of the ramp and stared.

Someone else began to descend.

If the shoes were the only thing that Ruff would ever see, it would have been enough to confirm his suspicions.

Blue and white Frankish Peasants.

FPs for short.

Ads were plastered throughout the known galaxies, primarily showing the street-cred shoes on the feet of only one man. He came down and stood between the Temelians, his head barely above their waists.

"Woooh-eee, Ruff."

Ice Cubicle held a hand over his sunglass-covered eyes.

"You sure pick shitty vacation spots."

Ruff and his crew slowly came out from behind the large rock.

"Come to finish the job?" he asked.

Everyone reacted cautiously, trying to read the new arrivals' intentions. Ruff noticed that both Nizumi and Metsk had pistols in hand behind their backs.

The tension lasted for several seconds until Cubicle had his guards lower their weapons.

"Sasha, Masha. You girls can head back into the ship. I need to have a chat with Ruff and Tumble."

Without hesitation, the Temelians walked back up the ramp and disappeared.

Cubicle, hands on his hips, looked at Nizumi expectantly.

"It's alright," Ruff whispered to her.

"I don't trust him," she said.

"Neither do I," Ruff replied, "but I trust you."

A glimpse of a smile appeared. She nodded reluctantly and took the crew back into The Fly Honey. Ruff was comfortable knowing she'd find some way to watch them. After everything that's happened over the past twenty-four hours, she wasn't going to let him or Tumble out of her sight.

Cubicle removed his sunglasses, revealing heavy bags under his eyes. It was obvious he hadn't gotten much sleep. He pulled a piece of rolled up electro-parchment out from the inside of his glittering gold jacket and handed it to Ruff, but Tumble grabbed it and unraveled it so he could check it out first.

The DJ's eyes grew wide as he read. He passed it to Tumble.

The Sorse Magazine - News Alerts - Stardate 187272.51620370362

Are Ruff and Tumble Out of the Office?

Last night, terror ensued at a discreet, pop-up show at Chubb's on Meridia 7, put on by hip-hop luminaries MC Ruff and DJ Tumble. The small concert was presumably a test run of their new album, and witnesses say that near the end of their set, an attempt was made on Ruff's life. Someone reported a laser was fired at MC Ruff. Another fan said it was certainly a mini-wormhole grenade.

The entire club broke out into pandemonium.

There have been no reports of the duo's current status. Attempts to contact their manager have been unsuccessful and a representative from Dope Planet Records has refused to comment.

Fans are concerned that Ruff and Tumble won't be reporting in for their headlining act at Beat Street, but fear not, hip-hop aficionados. Should the icons continue suffering from an acute case of stage fright, guess who's set to take over?

That's right. The dynamic duo's mortal enemy, Ice Cubicle.

Whispers and rumors implicate him in taking part in the attack, but authorities say that there is no evidence that he was involved.

Regardless, with the battle for old-school street-cred heating up to a new level, both groups are topping the charts as their tracks hit a record number of downloads over the past 24 hours.

It took an effort not to knock Cubicle into the dirt, but he was sure Sasha and Masha were watching them all just as keenly as Nizumi.

"Did you just want to rub it in or what?" Ruff asked. "Congratulations. You're headlining Beat Street."

Cubicle grinned. "Come on, Ruff. You're slow on the take, brotha. Who do you think's gettin' the real scrilla? All these album sales this is going to generate? You and I know we're barely gonna see three-percent on that."

The notion hit Ruff in the face like a sock full of billiard balls.

"Man, you need to tell me what you know or just shoot us already. I don't like this beatin' around the bush nonsense."

"You're no fun, you know that Ruff?" Cubicle looked at Tumble. "Your boy here, he's no fun."

Tumble just stared at him.

"Alright, alright. I don't know nothin', but I have my suspicions that your team and my team are trying to play us."

"What? Who?" Ruff looked over his shoulder at The Fly Honey, but failed to keep it discreet.

"Do you trust your peeps?" Cubicle's eyes followed Ruff's.

"With my life." There was no hesitation in the reply.

"You may want to rethink that," Cubicle said. "How about your manager?"

"Sharky?" Ruff had to think for a few seconds. "As much as you trust yours."

"Right."

Ruff scrunched his face. "Wait, wait. You think he was involved? In trying to kill me? That doesn't make any sense."

"I don't think he wanted to kill you. Actually, I'm positive he didn't. He just wanted to create some drama. Drum up more album sales. Thinks he's keepin' us relevant and at the top of the game. You know these new kids coming up, all about the violence. Your Sharky, my Poindexter, they're afraid we're approaching our expiration date. No more free lunch for them."

"Poindexter?"

"My manager."

"Poindexter?"

"Yeah, yeah. Trust me, I give him shit all the time. But I just know this is some nonsense they agreed to behind our backs."

Now Ruff was beginning to question everything.

"So this Dylan guy is working for Sharky? And Poindexter?"

"Dylan? Who's Dylan?"

"Some girl was at the show with her boyfriend. Dylan? Dave? Anyway, she said he tried to shoot me with a laser from his eye. And then some big dudes swept him away." His eyes fell on Cubicle's ship, thinking of a couple of big "dudes" waiting impatiently on the inside.

Cubicle's mouth was a straight line. The sound started low, an almost inaudible rumble from the depths of the rapper's belly, until it couldn't be contained any longer and he nearly fell to the ground, tears in his eyes, overcome with a fit of laughter.

Tumble looked at Ruff. Ruff returned the stare.

Cubicle managed an out-of-breath reply. "Are...you...kidding me?" He wiped the moisture from his cheeks. "Shot a laser...out of his...eye? What kind of...sci-fi shit is that? You believed her?"

Ruff crossed his arms in a classic B-Boy stance, slightly embarrassed and tried not to show it. He kind of hoped Nizumi would just pop out and shoot him now.

"Why would she lie?"

"Brotha, I was almost seein' things myself in that crowd. I don't think I could find the ceiling through the cloud of SynthaChronic™ smoke."

Tumble snorted and nodded in agreement.

"She probably saw your own light show, saw Sasha and Masha, and jumped to some tripped-out conclusions. I'd bet my last royalty check that this Danny boy ditched his girl and hooked up with some skeezer."

Now that the proposition had been repeated, it was less convincing. Ruff did remember the air was thick with the vapor of the mind-altering substance. He had assumed the girl's eyes were red just from crying.

But he still had some questions about Cubicle's presence. "Hold up a minute. Why were you even at the show?"

"You think I'm an idiot?" Cubicle's tone was sharp. "Research. That's what smart MCs do. I wanted to see how you were going to roll with this new album. Besides," he dipped his head in the direction of The Fly Honey, "if I wanted to kill you, I would have just dropped some bombs on your head instead of coming down here and shootin' the shit."

Ruff said, "You also could have flown right by and played tomorrow's show to a sold-out crowd. So why are you really here? You want something."

Cubicle shifted his stance. "Yeah, I want something. I know we got some beef, but it's our beef. I'm tired of bein' played by some leech in a suit."

Tumble hummed an mmm-hmm.

Ruff didn't like the feeling either.

"Besides, people are starting to dig too deep into my past. My fans start finding out I went to Old Yale and spent my summers in the Old-Earth Hamptons, I'm afraid my street cred will take a hit."

"Wait, wha--"

Cubicle held up a hand.

"So, I've come to offer a ride and a chance to show these bustas that we can't be messed with."

It became clear to Ruff that he had two choices. Sit here and probably miss the show, likely playing right into Sharky and Poindexter's hands. Or he could take a leap of faith, hitch a ride with his archnemesis, and spin their managers' heads around like one of Tumble's records.

"You can take all of us?" he asked. He wasn't going anywhere without Nizumi and team. He was sure they wouldn't let him go if those were the terms, anyway.

"Of course," Cubicle said.

After a moment's hesitation, Ruff said, "Okay."

Cubicle bleached teeth shined bright under the suns. He held out his hand. Fighting his gut inertia, Ruff took it into his own, wondering in the back of his mind if he was making a deal with the Devilbot.

"So what's the plan?" Ruff asked.

"I'll explain it on the way, but the bottom line is this: We're both gonna be at Beat Street and we're both gonna take control of this whole thing."

Ruff liked the sound of that.