Le Second Chapter

5:03 a.m. Sector 13 Dispatch

Dredd and Anderson were tired already. This in itself would be cause for alarm, if they hadn't stopped at least forty minor crimes in progress on the way back to Dispatch.

Firing a Lawgiver over two hundred times while on a motorcycle over the course of a half hour would tire out most Judges. Except Dredd. He took not two hundred, but six hundred shots, given that he rode in the front.

His arm was starting to get sore, dammit.

"All units, we have a 505A in progress, suspected 502. All Judges, please respond. The perps are headed north through Sector Thirteen. All units, do you copy?"

"Dispatch, this is Dredd and Anderson. We got this one."

"Affirmative. Dredd and Anderson on 505A in progress."

"Let's go."

Roaring through the streets of Sector Thirteen, Dredd took stock of his weaponry. In the five or so minutes that they had to rest, he had picked up even more ammo, weapons and assorted other gear.

The full count included one fully loaded Lawgiver, sixteen extra magazines for said Lawgiver, a Widowmaker automatic shotgun, two cases of extra shells, an Arbitrator shotgun, three cases of extra shells, seventeen gas grenades, fourteen stun grenades, two knives, brass-taser knuckles (for extra subduing power), two daysticks (because beating the shit out of perps with a titanium cored baseball bat is remarkably effective), a Spit Carbines, two Spit Pistols, a Spit Gun, and a Spit Cannon. Most of the heavier stuff was stashed in his Lawmaster. Dredd was prepared for overkill, not stupid.

Quickly reaching the coordinates, Dredd immediately spotted the perps weaving in and out of traffic in their beat-up van, most likely salvaged from the local scrapyard from the looks of it.

"Anderson, Sitrep."

"Four perps, two intoxicated, one under the influence of narcotics, the last unconscious in the back left seat. No weapons detected. Seems to just be a routine bout of drunken stupidity, sir."

"Good to know."

With that, Dredd activated his bike's sirens, immediately causing the driver to swerve towards the side of the road.

"Sir, the driver is panicking."

"He should be."

Pulling up to the van, Dredd strode forward, Lawgiver in hand.

"You four are under arrest for driving under the influence of narcotics and or alcohol. Sentence is four weeks in the Isocubes. Failure to comply will result in death."

"O-oh a-alright... but leave my friend outta this, he's just sleeping off a hangover, we're the ones doin' the crime."

"Defense noted. Anderson?"

"He's telling the truth."

"What's your friend's name?"

"J-jimmy, sir."

"He goes free. The rest of you stay put."

Cuffing the drunken and drugged up ruffians, Dredd hooked them to a nearby lamp post and shook the sleeper awake.

"Huh? Ah me head! Turn down th' bloody sun!"

"Your friends have been arrested. Keep watch over them until a unit arrives to haul them away. Running away will count as a felony and you will be arrested. Understood?"

"Y'sir! Got anythin' fer me headache?"

"No."

"Thought not."

"Dispatch, situation has been neutralized. Send a unit to my GPS, three for the Isocubes. Four week sentence."

"Affirmative. Sending a unit now."

"Anderson, let's go."

"Sir!"

Tearing away from the scene, Dredd and Anderson received their next call all too soon: a 444 and a 1024 in Sector 32. There was a gang war going on, and there were Judges in need of backup.

A/N: Not much plot and action, I know. But, I'm setting it up, 'kay?

It'll get better, promise.