National Guard Depot

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

The door that opens is not, strictly speaking, a door. Ellen wasn't able to find a working one near enough the National Guard building to use, so she had to fall back on the mouth of the drainage pipe that led out of Rock Creek Caverns. "Sorry about the smell," Ellen murmurs, "and the wet feet. This was the best access point I could get us."

Comments

[luvs_yogurt]

Squinting behind his sunglasses as he pushes through the grate, Michael shrugs - getting out of the way to find a clear vantage point with the scope on his rifle.

"I get the impression there's a lot worse out here."

[ihavemyflaws]

After weeks of what amounts to shore leave at the bar, it does feel weird to be in combat armor, to have her own gun strapped to her hip like it means business and a borrowed assault rifle on her back.

But it feels good. Maybe it's just her, but there's a low-level intensity in the air already that she wants to soak right up.

A few steps behind Michael, she cracks half a smile. "No kidding. This is almost cozy."

She doesn't mind wet feet so long as she still has both feet.

[cbucsrule]

There's a pack on his back filled with... well, they're grenades, for all intents and purposes, and as much as he doesn't like being clad in anything metal -- too close to the toasters, godsdammit -- he's glad for the protection the armor gives him.

He's got his rifle, got his ammo, and frak if he's not on the highest of high alert. Even though his plan to come out here sucks, according to Kara, he's gotta stay in fighting form and this, this is the way to do it. They've got Ellen, him and Kara, and Michael and Wolfwood, neither of which he'd met before but is pretty frakking glad to have along for this ride. If he said he wasn't on edge he'd be lying, but frak, it's also good to be somewhere different.

Someplace where he's not stuck.

They might be working their way through a bad-smelling wet drainage pipe, but he barely notices. This fighting business, stealth fighting, it's new to him. He hasn't done enough of it yet so it comes naturally, but he'll catch on.

[fullofmercy]

He sniffs at the air, grimaces, and considers lighting a cigarette, smoke be damned. Would anybody really get close enough to smell it...?

No, no. He shakes his head, rueful. Time enough to smoke afterwards, even if it calms his nerves, even if the smoke would be preferable to...just about anything he might smell here. Shifting the Punisher on his back, he takes a deep breath, and immediately wishes he hadn't.

"I'd say we're doing pretty well until we start getting shot at," he says, picking his way along, the cross a comforting weight against his back.

At least no one's suggesting he leave it behind, this time.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"I've scoped the perimeter out as best I could," Ellen continues. "There's turrets at regular intervals and the occasional Mr. Gutsy patrol. The only robots at the front gate are a pair of Protectrons, which are a lot flimsier. If we're going to get shot at by anything, they're the best choice. Taking the emplaced turrets out before going after the robots is probably a wise idea... Michael, think you can hit one of those things with that rifle of yours? I can use the Gauss on the other, and that'll free other people up to go after the Protectrons and go for the main doors."

[luvs_yogurt]

"Yeah..." the spy answers slowly, staring straight down the scope at the eyepiece of the turret. He almost hates to shoot it - the technology is significantly advanced from what they've got at home, but honestly the kind of guys he'd end up surrendering it to would only use it for the wrong reasons.

"I've got the far one lined up, gimme a sec..." He takes off his sunglasses and clips them to inside of his pocket.

Bracing himself with the rifle dug into his shoulder between plates of the alloy armor, he takes check of his crosshair before firing three shots in quick succession - a smile stretching his lips when it explodes in a small spray of smoke and sparks. "One down."

[ihavemyflaws]

This seems like it'll be a lot easier than expected. Especially since the group includes this guy with the sniper rifle and the one with... whatever the frak that weapon is on his back. Which is good, she guesses -- no reason to think the leader of Caprica's resistance stands a chance of getting killed or maimed -- but part of her has been itching for the opportunity to fight since before she even signed on.

Once she's watched Michael deal with one of the turrets, she takes the assault rifle off her back in preparation. The Protectrons have never sounded like the biggest threat in this place, and she's not inclined to waste an explosive round on them unless asked.

Or unless they line up just right.

[cbucsrule]

So far, this isn't too different from the shit he's been dealing with on Caprica. The biggest difference is that there, he's usually done the planning and scoped out the place beforehand, especially if it was somewhere he didn't already know.

He's itching to try out the grenade-stuffed pyramid balls and he knows the explosives in them is different from what he has at home, from what Rally's been working on, but at least he can test the theory, assure himself there's nothing inherently difficult about using them and that there's nothing about them that'll stop a high-powered explosive from working. Different detonation, he reminds himself, these are grenades, but every explosive needs a charge to work. It's only a slightly different strategy.

Through the sight on his rifle he aims at the other turret, just in case and because backup's always critical. This rifle, it's not as powerful as the one he's used to from home, and he's got one of the grenades at hand. He's no stranger to munitions -- he sleeps on top of lockers full of them back on Caprica, 'cause someone's gotta guard them -- but it doesn't mean they don't put him on high alert.

"First frakking toaster I see, man. Taking that sonofabitch out." That's mostly for Kara's benefit, if not his own. He's got a lot of payback to give, even if these aren't his toasters -- their toasters -- and this isn't his world. He's been reminded of that enough.

"Ellen. Any possible chance there's any friendlies in there? Anything alive?"

[fullofmercy]

The nice thing about this is that it isn't as though there's a lot of waiting around before they get into the fight.

...Well.

As far as the definition of nice can be stretched, here.

He watches, leaning on the arm of the Punisher, as Michael takes his shots, smiles in satisfaction when the other guy straightens.

He's taken kind of a shine to the guy. Useful in a pinch, Michael. Hard to say about the other two, but the guy's big and the girl has the kind of no-nonsense set to her shoulders that'll make even him consider twice before taking her on.

Not that she isn't cute. Beautiful women are all around, though, and they've got a job to do, so he flicks the clip on the belt he's holding, letting the white cloth drop around the foot of the cross as belts flip apart. Hefting the bare metal to his shoulder, he looks to Ellen, curious in her answer, but not optimistic.

It doesn't really look like a friendly sort of place.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"No," Ellen says a little distantly as she lines up the Gauss rifle's scope with her helmet's eye slot. She's already loaded the microfusion cell up. The magnetic coils've had time to charge. It's ready to go. "That place's been sealed off for two hundred years, and it's not a Vault-"

BANG.

A shot with enough force to tear through a supermutant's leg rips through the other turret.

"-so unless there's a ghoul stuck in there somehow..."

She trails off; the two other guardians of the front door are activating, and one of them is announcing in a tinny voice, "Please step into the open and identify yourselves. Law-abiding citizens have nothing to fear."

"Uh huh. We've got robot sign."

[luvs_yogurt]

Yeah, whatever was in there definitely knows they are there. Lifting the scope, he catches movement out of the corner of his eyes and follows it until a large green guy that reminds him of a slightly less green Hulk with pieces of what may constitute as armor and a minigun pacing in the distance.

"I know now might be a bad time for this, but I think I've got an idea..." He holds off pulling the trigger, waiting for it to be a clear threat.

"It's your show, Miss Park - but it might be a good idea to split off two teams - one to go inside and locate the mainframe to see if we can maybe shut these things down instead of dumping a ton of ammo on them all before we clear out the place. And another to secure the outside from robots and..." he points toward the big green and ugly well out of earshot and continues; "...him and any possible big green buddies."

[ihavemyflaws]

Whatever Ellen's using, Kara thinks she may just be in love with it.

In spite of her better judgment -- and the rifle she's leveled at the door -- she glances over, letting her eyes quickly follow Michael's line of sight.

The thing in the distance is definitely big and humanoid. How long can it stay oblivious to a gunfight? She'll call this a hunch, but she's betting it won't consider them friendlies.

"Whatever we're gonna do, let's do it fast."

[cbucsrule]

What. The. Frak. Is. That. Not the giant cross that's just become a weapon (he'll be surprised about that later), but that big ugly frakking thing pacing around in the distance? He wonders how good that thing is at playing catch. They can always find out.

It's just like at home: when the shit hits the fan, his focus narrows to such a fine frakking point that he can... he can gauge the distance, gauge his line of sight, gauge his arm's strength and condition and the angle and trajectory of anything he'd have to throw to hit that thing. He may not be Coach -- the guy with the best arm on all twelve colonies -- but he can do that.

Yeah, the adrenaline's pumping, but riding on top of that is a wave of calm, of objectivity. Inside team, outside team, doesn't matter to him. He's ready. His hand closes on that grenade just in case.

"That one of your ghouls or something else?" It doesn't look like any robot he's ever imagined, but that could just be a question of semantics.

[fullofmercy]

The whole idea of ghouls is alien to him: he's seen some strange things in his life, but these mutants are unlike even the strangest of Legato's experiments.

Still, he's not here to have an opinion, he's here to back up Ellen and the rest of the team. For now, he watches as the thing walks along, so far oblivious, and waits to see what today will bring. Splitting up in teams could certainly work: they'd each be smaller targets, then, and it's the most efficient use of limited resources, but then, firepower will be limited.

Still, he's always preferred working in small groups.

(Here, Vash counts as a group. The man is everywhere at once, damn him.)

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"That's a supermutant," Ellen says, glancing briefly in the big green thing's direction. "Those used to be human, before they were taken by other mutants and forcibly exposed to a virus that no longer exists. Ghouls're a lot smaller and look like they're made from rotting raw meat. They were people who were exposed to so much radiation they should've died, and they didn't. If they can talk, they're all right, but a lot of them lose their minds and try to eat anything that moves."

She glances at the building's gates, and then over to Michael. "I don't know how many of these will be taking orders from a mainframe, but if there is one we need to know about it- and if there's mutants around we don't want them coming after us from behind. Think you and Wolfwood here can handle the outdoor problems while the rest of us go inside?"

[luvs_yogurt]

He shakes his head; "Unless one of you two are hackers or into technology," he looks to Kara and Sam; "I'd probably be a better asset inside. One person to deal with the computers and another to back them up with additional firepower. One person just inside the door and two more - probably Wolfwood being one of them - securing the perimeter."

As he he speaks, another smaller big green joins the party - armed with only a large club.

"You're gonna probably want to keep the explosives outside - most of the interior walls are probably unstable."

[ihavemyflaws]

Gun still pointed toward the slow-moving Protectrons, she does a double take at Michael.

This guy must be military. Former military. Something.

"Look, I don't know who made you Commander of this group" -- she raises her eyebrows -- "but you're the guy with the sniper rifle. Aren't you a better asset wherever you have a straight shot on the big frakking beasts over here?"

She's just saying. They look like they could high-five a person into the ground.

She won't argue the use of explosives, though. Some of these buildings look like they could finish collapsing if you sneeze on them.

[cbucsrule]

There are reasons teams have captains. He's not talking sports here, he's not that shallow. Any time there's more than a couple of people doing any group effort, one person -- one -- has to be in charge.

He keeps one eye on the distant supermutant. No, make that supermutants: he's not here to kill living breathing things. If he has to he will, but it's not their fault they mutated, right? And so far they're not acting like threats. But what the frak does he know?

By his own logic, he knows he'll go wherever Ellen tells him to go and do whatever Ellen tells him to do and that's fine. He'll do it because that's why he signed on: to help her retrieve the shit she needs from this place, however he can help most. Even though from here, standing here looking at the building, rubble all around, it sure as frak feels familiar. Last time he went to Caprica City, half of The Riverwalk was still standing. And all around it, rubble. Just like here, and that...

Yeah. He pockets that grenade again, runs a hand over his mouth to ensure he keeps his opinion to himself, 'cause he's not in charge here. The only way he's good at fighting is through stealth. It's the only way he knows. He can learn to fight in just about any kind of situation, but if he's gonna die, godsdammit, it's gonna be at home and not here.

Not here. He promised Kara.

[fullofmercy]

Hmm.

He keeps back, mostly to himself. He's got no opinion either way, though by virtue of having the most varied amount of weapons by at least one, he's probably most useful out here, where he's got a clear line of sight.

The big guy -- Sam, he reminds himself -- seems to be having a similar line of thought: he stays quiet, too, though Wolfwood can see the way his eyes flick to gauge the threat and back again. For himself, he watches Michael. The guy seems to have all kinds of ideas, and that makes him curious, but the time for an in-depth personality analysis is hardly right now.

"Speaking personally," he says, easily, "I think I'm more use outside than in." Patting the Punisher fondly, he smiles. "All my best stuff needs room to use."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Thank you for the suggestion, Michael," Ellen says, her voice a little tinny through the helmet's filters, "but I don't think that's going to be necessary. I'm the only person here who has a chance with the local computers, unless one of you has experience with RobCo termlink protocol somehow, and I specifically brought Kara and Sam along because they have experience with destroying robots and other electronic enemies."

And enough motivation to put Dogmeat to shame, frankly. Not that the furry little maniac is here today. Ellen left him in Milliways for safety's sake. That dog tried to tear out a sentrybot's throat once and sentrybots don't even have necks, let alone fleshy bits.

"As far as the explosives go, we are going to need to be careful, but in my experience government buildings from before the War have much tougher load-bearing members than you'd think. A lot of these old buildings went through renovations in the years leading up to the Great War to make them more resistant to possible attack. I've seen grenades tossed and detonated in some of them without so much as denting the ceilings. As long as we don't repeat the experience in a given area, we should be all right. It's not my favorite thing to do indoors, but it can be done."

"So, like I said, thank you for the suggestion, but I'd prefer to take Kara and Sam into the building and have you and Wolfwood out here."

Translation: my world, my job, my rules, and ignore the part where I'm nineteen.

[luvs_yogurt]

Chain of command. Contrary to his tendency to take point, he does get it. Figuring it'd be in his best interest to do things the boss' way, he replies easily; "You got it, Miss Park."

He raises the rifle again - prepared to lay down cover fire - and waits.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

[OOC: At this point I'm going to set up split threads for outside and inside. Cool?]

[luvs_yogurt]

[ooc: Sounds like a good idea to me - Wolfwood can start the perimeter sub-thread?]

[fullofmercy]

[OOC: Cool cool.]

Team Outside

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

There are, as Michael had noticed, at least two mutants prowling around among some of the nearby ruins. Heavily armed and heavily muscled, they have the air of beings who've been working far too hard for far too long and just want an excuse to hit something. Or, given their armament, more than hit.

They don't appear to have noticed the humans, at least not yet.