Author's Note:  For this fun challenge, I used all of the images provided for inspiration.

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My personal transport pod floated through the polluted haze of the industrial zone. Lights on the structures cast cones of visibility through the dust but did little to lift the darkness present everywhere under the factory plumes. Cranes lifted loads of supplies into the bulky rectangle shapes of the cargo haulers before the ships took to the skies, slowly gliding away to deliver their raw materials to factories and production facilities elsewhere in the industrial zone.

The neon sign for the Villetard Corporation caught my eye as I changed course and directed my pod higher. I relied on sensors only as the view out the forward cockpit showed only thick cloud cover for the few minutes it took me to rise above the industrial wastes in the atmosphere. Breaking into the sunlight, I cruised atop the clouds, heading for the downtown districts.

The pollution level became decidedly less as I approached the hub of the city, thanks in part to the increase in filtration centers and the newly established atmospheric restriction fields. Lanes for aerial vehicles, marked along their invisible edges by anti-grav buoys, formed long lines of traffic in a multilevel web over the city. The large cargo haulers were regulated to the outskirts to keep the inner lanes free for civilian transports.

Holographic signs were everywhere, trying to get the attention and credits of anyone willing to look and consider spending money on what was offered. Among them was a martial arts fight between four robots. A number running along the bottom of the billboard told where the entirety of the fight could be downloaded and when the next venue would be live. Another billboard offered the latest vehicle. A 2217 model Mustang hovered over the pavement in gleaming silver and blue trim. A row of neon blue lights just under the edge of the hood showed the car possessed the new voice activated autopilot computer. A blue horse in a tan jumpsuit and baseball cap leaned back on the car with his front legs folded across his chest in a decidedly human stance.

I chuckled slightly in amusement. Advertising had realized they could get more attention by either being clever or absurd as they were both memorable.

Following my course, I exited the main flow of traffic and took a mostly unused lane in a sharp ascent. My craft sailed upward until the blackness of space surrounded me, and my projected flight led me straight to the massive station in high orbit.

Constructed of gray metal, the orbiting station resembled a secondary moon with a ring near its equator. The ring, slowly rotating around the station, housed the agricultural and environmental areas. The ring provided all the food and oxygen those on the station required. The movement of the ring was necessary as artificial gravity wasn't as effective when it came to growing plants as their size and life expectancy were diminished outside a natural gravity field. Scientists were still working on finding out why.

I touched one of the holographic controls hovering over my console, the glowing orange button depressing slightly as the computer analyzed my movements and adjusted its position accordingly. The docking sequence was fully automated, and once I started the program, I had only to sit back and wait.

A pair of doors, massive next to my small pod but diminutive in comparison to the overall size of the station, parted and allowed my ship to land in one of the many bays available. Other ships came and departed from the station in a flurry of activity. If not for the glowing blue rim around the landing area, indicating the atmospheric barrier field, the bay would've required depressurizing and repressurizing before and after every launch and arrival. The field kept the air inside the bay and allowed the ships to come and go without delay.

Deactivating the seals on my transport, I opened the canopy and hopped out, dropping the few feet to the ground. The work crews would have a ladder equipped before my return, so I paid it no mind and headed toward the nearest exit.

Although I'd been offered a room aboard the station, I'd decided to keep my original home near the industrial zone. My work centered on environmental maintenance, and it was much easier to keep focused when the reasons for my work were thick clouds outside my window. I wouldn't have the same motivation living on a pristine station.

"Main observation," I said to the computer when I entered the access tube network and stepped onto a lift plate. The computer beeped as it acknowledged my instruction. The plate I was standing on, lit around the edges by pinpoints of red light, created two separate gravity fields around me. The first was smaller and designed for eliminating any g-forces I might feel by my sudden transit. The second gravity field was a much larger one and filled the remainder of the space around me in the transport tube, pulling me and the lift plate up the shaft in a matter of seconds and a blur of speed.

I was never concerned when using the lift tubes as I knew about the safety measures in place in case of failure. Gravity and kinetic force nullifiers were installed every two feet in each tube. If the lift system failed, the nullifiers would automatically engage their own separate power systems and render anyone inside the tube weightless and motionless until work crews fixed the problem or rescue teams arrived to extract the traveler. In the century since the safeguards had been invented and installed, no injuries had been reported in any tube system.

When I reached the proper level, the lift plate came to an immediate stop, but because of the gravity fields around me, I never felt a thing. It was as if I had been standing still for the entire journey while the station moved around me. The twin gravity fields dispersed, and I walked out of the oval doorway of the clear tube system onto main observation deck.

Numerous observation points were located across the massive station, but the main deck was far more wide and open. Spanning twelve levels, the views were spectacular. Tables and chairs were positioned near the windows for meetings, luncheons, or simple conversation, overlooking the world and deep space.

I found a table with a number of people watching the construction of the latest atmospheric processing station. When completed, the station would resemble a saucer. Right now, only the left side and a portion of the middle had their covering plates installed, granting a view of the interior buildings. The stations were far too large and costly to be used only for a one time cleaning of the atmosphere, so I'd had them built with living accommodations as well. Once they'd done their job, they'd serve as floating cities for any citizen who wanted to live among the clouds.

"How is work progressing?" I asked the assembled group of technicians and engineers, identifiable by their different colored jumpsuits.

"Hey, Boss," one of the men said as he looked over his shoulder and saw me. He had gray hair and a blueish-green jumpsuit. Spinning around, he got out of his seat and offered me a hand; I shook it firmly.

"Hello, Duane," I said to him.

"We're six months ahead of schedule, and people are already demanding we build more," Duane told me. "Seems there's a real demand for floating accommodations. Who knew?"

"Not me," I denied. "Have we already sold out on available living spaces?"

"Not only have we sold out, we have a waiting list," Duane answered with a grin. "When we get all five up, we'll still be short by about nine hundred units."

"Let's see how these work before we decide if we want to build any more," I replied.

"Take a look at the latest simulations," Duane suggested. He leaned over and picked up his computer from the table. As thin and flexible as a sheet of old style paper, the computer screen currently showed a still image of one of the processing stations in its completed form. Tapping the corner of the screen, Duane activated the model displayed on screen.

The massive saucer of the station descended through the atmosphere into the sulfur clouds over Europe. Once in position, it deployed its filtration system in a series of spikes lowering down underneath, making the station resemble a mechanical jellyfish. Four other stations were already at work around it. The yellow clouds of sulfur were pulled into the stations, cleansed, and pumped back out as clean air. The time lapse on the image showed the number of years it would take for total purification, but the end result was striking. The yellow clouds of vapor vanished, revealing the sparkling lights of the cities below.

"It looks good," I praised.

"Every station we add will only speed up the process," Duane said what we both already knew.

An electronic beep sounded, and I touched the communication switch built into the left wrist of my uniform. "Go ahead."

"Sir, one of our survey teams is under attack in sector eight," came the report through the speaker mounted on the back of my left hand glove.

"Understood, I'll take care of it," I answered. Pressing the button on my cuff to deactivate the unit, I turned to Duane. "Excuse me, but I have to get back to Earth."

"No problem, Boss," Duane said as I bolted for the tube system.

***

As I had expected, the work crews had my transport pod ready and waiting for me when I returned. I scrambled up the ladder, pressing the two switches on the top to magnetically retract it away from my ship as I prepped for takeoff. Dropping the canopy closed, I powered up the generators. I ignored most of the preflight checklist and engaged the engines, shooting out of the bay in a streak of blue plasma from my tail mounted thruster.

Sector eight had always been trouble. Ever since the war, leftovers from the Genetics Crusade had been cropping up from abandoned labs and forgotten storage facilities. Spliced together from a myriad of different biological sources, the results had been monsters of every imaginable variety and then some. Used as expendable fighting machines, most of the genetic constructs had been destroyed during the great cleansing of 2184, but the scientists behind the bizarre experiments had been experts in hiding their places of research. Scouting teams attempting to enter sector eight were constantly discovering old labs, and the defense systems usually held one or more of the creatures in stasis, unleashing them to fight anyone not recognized.

Most of sector eight was barren desert, blasted into nothingness in an attempt to purge the remaining genetic facilities, but a few areas were starting to regrow, and surprisingly fast. I'd sent in a survey team last week to see if they could discover the reason for the redevelopment of the plant life and possibly make use of it for restoring the rest of the sector. During the process, they'd found yet another underground lab. Now my people were under attack, and I could only hope to reach them in time.

The atmosphere buffeted my craft as it plunged down through the clouds. The obscuring layer suddenly ripped away, leaving me flying in the open air. Pulling up on the virtual controls hovering over the console, I adjusted the angle of my descent and shot over the barren landscape. Pressing a bright yellow key, I activated my communication gear.

"Survey team, do you copy?" I transmitted, waiting for any kind of answer. My sensors picked up the signature of weapons' fire at the same moment a response came through the internal speakers.

"We read you," a feminine voice said. Her voice was strained and spoke between gasps for air. In the background, I could hear the gun fire my sensors had picked up. "I hope you're close."

I checked the sensor data of the terrain between me and the team. "Head west, over the rise. I'll be waiting on the other side."

"I hope so," the woman replied.

I speared a floating switch with my index finger and slid it to the right, triggering the transformation of my transport pod. Side panels retracted up and into the hull under the cockpit at the same time a forked support frame extended beyond the nose of the craft with a wheel supported on the outside of each fork. Unfolding from the tail of the craft near the thrusters, the rear axle deployed moments before the tires of my now four-wheeled vehicle hit the barren sands.

Creatures of sector eight had long ago proved to have nasty surprises for flying targets, so all confrontations with them had forcibly reverted to land based only.

My two person survey team climbed the hill and came into view. The red haired woman in the lead, dressed in gray exoskeleton armor, I recognized as Sgt. Leland. Following in her wake, and firing blindly behind him, was Corporal McKain. Less experienced than the Sargent, he didn't know the genetic creatures of sector eight were immune to small arms fire.

Knowing their enemy would be right behind them, I activated my primary guns. The weapon mount rose up behind the cockpit before the gun turret folded down and locked into position. Four gun barrels extended outward, and a red key lit up above my control board the moment the weapons were ready to fire. I pulled the triggers, and flame leapt from the barrels in a thunderous volley of high velocity shells.

Climbing the hill behind my scouts, directly into my line of fire, was a type of creature I'd encountered before. A long body of solid muscle atop two powerful legs, the monster was covered in gray leathery skin. It didn't have any eyes, but a number of spines on the front of its rounded face picked up soundwaves, so the roar of the beast wasn't to intimidate but to see. The mouth was wide enough to bite a person in half with teeth the length of bananas. Flaring outward from around the massive jaws were four mandibles, each tipped with a sharp tooth. Because of the mandibles and the four small arms on the front of the creature similar to a well-known dinosaur, it had been given the name of Mandible Rex.

As my bullets smashed into the thing, the Rex roared in my direction before turning away and departing at full speed. It was only slightly injured and would quickly heal. Rexes were some of the hardest genetic constructs to kill because of their rapid healing, but I wasn't trying to kill today; I was trying to save.

Releasing my finger from the trigger, I opened the canopy and waved the scouting party over.

"Are you alright?" I asked as the two scouts climbed aboard.

"We are now, thanks," Sargent Leland said with a sigh of relief. The Corporal climbed in the back seat behind her nodded his thanks, but he was too out of breath to say anything at the moment.

"Let's get out of here," I suggested. Closing the canopy, I triggered the transformation of my craft back into an aerial transport and took to the sky, heading back into space.

Sector eight was still a no man's land, but it wouldn't always be so. One day, even it would be reclaimed and rebuilt. The world was in a mess in many places, but we were resolute and undaunted by the challenge. We would overcome any problem or hardship. It was only a matter of time.