Hangar Bay Two
Nov. 9th, 2010 03:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aaaaaaaagh_skyThe news had arrived at Raven Rock as fast as Corporal Tarzey’s feet could carry him. There was no time to waste, none at all; nevertheless Sergeant Henry Wells and his squad were waiting. The Vertibird pilots had checklists to run through first, and anyway, there was the matter of the chems. Everyone knew how a massive dose of anti-rad medication had saved the Colonel’s life at the Memorial. Everyone also knew how close the Colonel had come to dying in the hours immediately after his exposure. They’d all seen what the saboteur’s work at the purifier had done to him in the handful of minutes before troopers had broken into the Rotunda and dragged him to safety. Where their orders would take them there would be no rescue. Either they evacuated under their own power, or…
Best they wait for the chems to take effect before taking off, that was all. Not, mind, that they waited in silence.
“Hate this Gammatol shit, Sarge,” said Kirkley, picking at a particularly stubborn accretion of something scorched on the uppermost barrel of his Gatling laser. It wasn’t easily done with armored fingers. “Rad-X was good enough for Dad, ought to be good enough for us.”
“Shut your yap, Private,” said Wells. “You know where we’re going.”
“Yeah, what’s three days’ constipation next to all your bones melting?” said Private Milburn, a faint crackle of energy rippling from the shoulders of his Tesla armor.
“Two bags of Rad-Away and a day of Cladospor’ll make up for whatever rads they miss,” said Corporal Campbell, not bothering to look up from the radio rig they’d been issued. Interference in the mutant-held area was notoriously heavy, necessitating specialized communication equipment for anyone who hoped to relay a signal any distance at all. “And your armor’s been upgraded anyway. Relax, you’ll be clean when we’re all done.”
“It’s not that!” Kirkley protested. “I’m just-“
“Oh, it’s the ‘full of shit’ part you’re worried about?” chimed in Private Witherspoon. “Rad-Away’ll take care of that too.”
Milburn made a gesture in Witherspoon’s direction that must have been as old as civilization. The other trooper just laughed.
“I don’t like it much myself,” murmured Private Cooper to Wells. “This smells bad from the start. Gammatol’s still experimental, isn’t it?”
“Haven’t got much choice, Private,” said Wells. The older man sounded weary, but it was always a little hard to tell through the Hellfire gear he wore. “If there’s anywhere on this Earth that feeds right straight down into the mouth of Satan, that place is it. Rad-X’d be about as much use as drinking Mercurochrome straight from the bottle, there.”
“You’d think they’d send robots,” said Cooper. “Something they could junk afterward.”
There was an unspoken question in Cooper’s words. Wells had already pulled his helmet on, but at that implication he reached up to pop the seals around his armor’s neck, the better to meet the younger man’s eyes. “That’s not going to happen,” he said firmly. “Not to any of us.”
“You’re sure, Sarge.”
“Dead fucking sure.”
The rest of the squad fell silent, turning as one to look Wells’ way.
“You heard me, boyos.” Wells folded black-clad arms across his chest. “I promise you, we are getting out of this alive.”
Kirkley drew breath; Wells cut him off with a look. “You’re worried, all of you. I can tell. I won’t lie to you- where we’re going, good men die. If we’re careless, we’ll join them. Simple as that. The chems we’ve all taken’re the strongest and best the Enclave’s got. They might not be the final product, but I trust ‘em, and d’you know why that is?”
“Bit of something extra slipped into yours, Sarge?”
“Wrong time, wrong place, Witherspoon. Make your jokes later.” Wells resettled his stance. “No, I trust what I’ve been given because we’re going after the biggest enemy the good people of this country’ve got. This woman’s got the Brotherhood lining up behind her. She’s gone through heavy trooper squads like a hot knife through Brahmin fat.”
Campbell’s eyes narrowed at that; he’d had friends among the Deathclaw escort squads at the Capitol, and did not have those friends any more.
“She’s killed things you don’t have the imagination to have show up in your nightmares. The President wants her alive. You can’t make a proper example of a dead woman.”
“Not that I’d mind trying,” muttered Kirkley.
“Good man,” said Wells, “but keep a leash on it. The President wants this woman alive for an example, and Colonel Autumn needs her for questioning. If they’re giving us experimental chems for this trip it’s because that’s our best chance at getting them what they need, and wiping out the enemies of America in the Wasteland once and for all. We have a job to do. We will do it.”
There was silence; then Cooper nodded. It wasn’t quite the reassurance he’d hoped for, but it was enough to serve.
“All right, then,” said Wells. He checked his suit’s chronometer. “That should be enough time for the Gammatol to have taken effect. Move your asses- Captain Ryan’s waiting. If we don’t get this Vertibird to the hell-mouth before she escapes we’ll miss the party.”
Best they wait for the chems to take effect before taking off, that was all. Not, mind, that they waited in silence.
“Hate this Gammatol shit, Sarge,” said Kirkley, picking at a particularly stubborn accretion of something scorched on the uppermost barrel of his Gatling laser. It wasn’t easily done with armored fingers. “Rad-X was good enough for Dad, ought to be good enough for us.”
“Shut your yap, Private,” said Wells. “You know where we’re going.”
“Yeah, what’s three days’ constipation next to all your bones melting?” said Private Milburn, a faint crackle of energy rippling from the shoulders of his Tesla armor.
“Two bags of Rad-Away and a day of Cladospor’ll make up for whatever rads they miss,” said Corporal Campbell, not bothering to look up from the radio rig they’d been issued. Interference in the mutant-held area was notoriously heavy, necessitating specialized communication equipment for anyone who hoped to relay a signal any distance at all. “And your armor’s been upgraded anyway. Relax, you’ll be clean when we’re all done.”
“It’s not that!” Kirkley protested. “I’m just-“
“Oh, it’s the ‘full of shit’ part you’re worried about?” chimed in Private Witherspoon. “Rad-Away’ll take care of that too.”
Milburn made a gesture in Witherspoon’s direction that must have been as old as civilization. The other trooper just laughed.
“I don’t like it much myself,” murmured Private Cooper to Wells. “This smells bad from the start. Gammatol’s still experimental, isn’t it?”
“Haven’t got much choice, Private,” said Wells. The older man sounded weary, but it was always a little hard to tell through the Hellfire gear he wore. “If there’s anywhere on this Earth that feeds right straight down into the mouth of Satan, that place is it. Rad-X’d be about as much use as drinking Mercurochrome straight from the bottle, there.”
“You’d think they’d send robots,” said Cooper. “Something they could junk afterward.”
There was an unspoken question in Cooper’s words. Wells had already pulled his helmet on, but at that implication he reached up to pop the seals around his armor’s neck, the better to meet the younger man’s eyes. “That’s not going to happen,” he said firmly. “Not to any of us.”
“You’re sure, Sarge.”
“Dead fucking sure.”
The rest of the squad fell silent, turning as one to look Wells’ way.
“You heard me, boyos.” Wells folded black-clad arms across his chest. “I promise you, we are getting out of this alive.”
Kirkley drew breath; Wells cut him off with a look. “You’re worried, all of you. I can tell. I won’t lie to you- where we’re going, good men die. If we’re careless, we’ll join them. Simple as that. The chems we’ve all taken’re the strongest and best the Enclave’s got. They might not be the final product, but I trust ‘em, and d’you know why that is?”
“Bit of something extra slipped into yours, Sarge?”
“Wrong time, wrong place, Witherspoon. Make your jokes later.” Wells resettled his stance. “No, I trust what I’ve been given because we’re going after the biggest enemy the good people of this country’ve got. This woman’s got the Brotherhood lining up behind her. She’s gone through heavy trooper squads like a hot knife through Brahmin fat.”
Campbell’s eyes narrowed at that; he’d had friends among the Deathclaw escort squads at the Capitol, and did not have those friends any more.
“She’s killed things you don’t have the imagination to have show up in your nightmares. The President wants her alive. You can’t make a proper example of a dead woman.”
“Not that I’d mind trying,” muttered Kirkley.
“Good man,” said Wells, “but keep a leash on it. The President wants this woman alive for an example, and Colonel Autumn needs her for questioning. If they’re giving us experimental chems for this trip it’s because that’s our best chance at getting them what they need, and wiping out the enemies of America in the Wasteland once and for all. We have a job to do. We will do it.”
There was silence; then Cooper nodded. It wasn’t quite the reassurance he’d hoped for, but it was enough to serve.
“All right, then,” said Wells. He checked his suit’s chronometer. “That should be enough time for the Gammatol to have taken effect. Move your asses- Captain Ryan’s waiting. If we don’t get this Vertibird to the hell-mouth before she escapes we’ll miss the party.”