AGP- Traffic Cop

Our paralysis only lasted for a moment. Without a word or signal, every one of us reached the same conclusion: there was not time for this shit. Sarge strode forward in a calm, unhurried manner, staring directly into the Officer's visor the entire time. When they were only a pace apart, Sarge wordlessly held out his right hand for the ticket the man had been writing; his left hit the Officer in the jaw with the concentrated force of an entire mission's worth of pent-up frustration. Also, brass knuckles. Spikey ones.

Despite the bone-crushing force of Sarge's sucker punch, between the ex-Arbite's full helmet and his own considerable burliness the man actually managed to stay on his feet and started to reach for his weapons. We'd counted on him being a tough bastard though, and Sarge's hit was followed up by an augmetic leg to the groin and a blow from Tink's shock-wrench. As the Arbite started to crumple Doc and Twitch grabbed him by the arms, heaved him into the rear of our van, and piled in after him.

There was a lot of thumping and cursing from the back of the van as Tink weaved our vehicle steadily upwards through the sub-spire's light traffic. By the time we were approaching the upper levels our "guest" had been relieved of his gear and weapons, jabbed with three syringes of sedative, and covered from mouth to feet with a dozen layers of duct-tape.