aaaaaaaagh_sky | The Trail

The Trail

The door opens, as it often does, on a patch of scrub desert under a cloud-studded sky. Peering eastward, you can make out the shape of a shattered, once-elevated highway in the light of the just-risen sun, and perhaps the jagged edges of the tallest parts of the Megaton city walls. The air is a little cooler than it's been on past visits, and here and there the brown and yellow scrub that characterizes Wasteland vegetation seems to be sharing space with hazes of green.

There's also kind of an overwhelming stink of cow, because Ellen left Megaton astride Shiphrah and Puah and the Brahmin is busily chewing its cud with one head nearby. Ellen pats the other head briefly with one stealth-suited hand as she says, "We're not far from the caravan route where the raiders ambushed our water men. This is the nearest door I could find."

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That's never a good sound on any world.

"What's the tact?" Andrea pipes in finally. WIth Ellen off grid, she deferes to Voodoo in the chain of command. She tries to see anything through her scope as well, with no luck, so she pans to see if the noise has woken the ant farm. "And just what the hell is a Behemoth?"

Edited 2013-02-25 16:13 (UTC)

It doesn't take long at all for Voodoo to reach a decision. When you hear the word Behemoth, you drop whatever the fuck you're doing and listen real goddamn close.

Voodoo glances at Andrea. "Bigass mutant. We're getting her the hell out of there," he says. "Okay, Ellen, you've done enough," he radios. "Now here's what I want you to do. I want you to follow the tracks back exactly the way you came. Once you get around the bend, we'll be able to cover you the rest of the way, okay?" He deploys his rifle's bipod, setting it on the windowsill. "You two," he says, nodding to Annabelle and Andrea, "pick a target and call it out. That thing smells her and we're gonna need to get the upper hand quick."

It doesn't take long for Voodoo to find a target of his own on the catwalks, a lanky skinheaded youth who looks like he took a wrong turn out of a 60s biker gang, what with his spiked armor and shiny new gun.

"I got one," he says, holding his crosshairs over the boy's center chest. "Skinheaded kid, on the catwalks, holding an assault rifle. He's mine."

Edited 2013-02-25 17:02 (UTC)

"Cameo pants and mohawk at 6 o'clock," Andrea says confirming her target. She pans to see if she can get a good shot at the trip wire Ellen mentioned in case they need a big distraction (it'd be a long shot but might be worth the chance), before setting her sites on her called shot. Then she sits tight and waits for the command.

Edited 2013-02-25 17:11 (UTC)

"It's penned up. Electrified fence. Don't know how long that'll last," Ellen murmurs. "I'm coming."

The thing roars again. There's a distant sound of crackling.

"I'm coming faster. I think the fence just makes it mad."

"Stay cool, Ellen," Voodoo says. "You're almost outta there, just stay cool."

Voodoo's finger is no longer on the magazine well. Instead, it is on the trigger, taking up the first pound of the three-pound slack as he holds the crosshairs on the kid.

Andrea's done the same, though she also breaths steadily and wiggles her toes (without shifting her stance) to keep from tensing up, an old trick a Master-At_arms had taught her.

"I'm trying." Pause. "Two more patrollers, eastern side of the gorge. Just above me. Haven't seen me yet."

The kid Voodoo has his crosshairs on glances over his shoulder; the foremost of the two new guards, a woman in remarkably little leather for someone carrying a gun quite so shiny and new-looking, gestures back in the direction from which they came.

(Someone alert to shifting things at the edges of their peripheral vision might well notice an oddly blurry patch of shadow in the gorge, not far from the tripwire Ellen mentioned.)

Annabelle recognizes that shiny, shiny gun. She's got one herself, back at the Bar, because SHE bought it from Ellen after her escape from the Alien ship.

"What the FUCK?!. Ellen, how the hell would one of these bastards have gotten their hands on an alien blaster like the one you sold me!"

"What kind of range do those things have? Anything we need to worry about up here?"

Giant scorpions, behemoths, blasters? It's almost like back home except it'd be a fire ball instead of a blaster but who's counting?

"We can worry about all that once she's out," Voodoo repeats, his crosshairs never leaving the raider. "You're almost there, Ellen. Just keep low and go."

Edited 2013-02-25 18:55 (UTC)

"They're disintegration weapons," says Ellen after a stunned silence. "We need to move. I'm coming-

What follows is possibly the most painfully slow five minutes of her life, as Ellen creeps oh-so-very-carefully out of the gorge and its shadows at what she sincerely hopes is a pace the watchers above won't notice. If they'd just been carrying ordinary-but-high-quality guns, she'd have been willing to move faster. The suit's designed to slow down or stop bullets, after all. But as she told Annabelle back when she was getting rid of the alien guns at Milliways, I call this model the Disintegrator because that's what it does.

You don't take chances being winged with something like that.

"I'm in the open now. Please, for the love of God, tell me they're looking the other way so I can move properly."

Annabelle's uncanny luck may be extending to Ellen at the moment, because that instant is when the two guards' patrol takes them on a path that will quickly lead to them facing the other way.

"Wait 5 seconds, then go," Annabelle says. "Their path should have them facing away from you by then."

Andrea pans her scope along the catwalks to make sure no other guards show signs of noticing anything odd, which seems to be the case.

One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand, four one thousand, five-

She bolts, and while no one's ever called Ellen a sprinter, she's at least doing a respectable pace right out of the starting blocks. And she doesn't stop until she's made it into the office building and has her back to a piece of still-standing wall and can foomp! herself visible again.

... she might be panting a little under there.

And Voodoo's the first to meet her there, checking over her armor for any damage - unlikely, but as the saying goes.

"You okay? How you feelin'?"

"'m all right," Ellen manages, although she's tugging her headpiece off so it's a little hard to say. "'m all right. Jesus Christ. That thing was eighteen feet tall..."

Andrea comes down a minute later having kept watch to make sure no guards noticed anything. It's pretty obvious eighteen feet is rare here though for her it's just another day.

"Have a drink," she says offering Ellen her canteen. A sip of water is always good after a sprint.

"Thanks." Ellen gratefully accepts the canteen, handing it back again a moment later once she's had her drink. "Ugh. They've been feeding it... I'm sorry, I owe you an explanation, don't I? About the-" She gestures back the way she'd come. "I didn't get to brief you properly..."

Andrea stows the canteen but shakes her head. "Later. Let's get to a more secure location first. Unless it's something we need to take out now?"

Edited 2013-02-25 20:57 (UTC)

Ellen shakes her head rapidly. "No. Nononono. They're too tough. The first one I saw, they were using mini-nukes against. People use artillery on these things..."

She thinks for a minute, then says, "I don't know if anywhere around here is all that safe. Not if these people have Disintegrators. We should- we should probably go back to the Bar."

Voodoo nods. "Sooner the better. These guys might send out another ambush patrol soon. We run into these guys on their home turf and we're in trouble."

"We'll try a door on the next building up the hill, then?" Ellen suggests. "So they won't see me when I have to come back to the Wasteland next time?"

Andrea nods as she likes the plan, still, mission accomplished? Best to ask.

"I assuem you got all the intel you need?"

"As much as I'm going to get," says Ellen. "Those buildings I mentioned- they were much too small for their doors, or for this many train cars. I'd be willing to bet that they've got interior doors leading into underground storage areas we weren't able to spot. We'd better assume there's a lot more to this place and these people's numbers than we were able to see today."

"But I'm not going to be able to get into there myself any time soon without being noticed, so..."

Voodoo nods. "We'll make it work. Best course of action right now is to head to Bar, get some reinforcements, and burn this place to the goddamn ground."

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aaaaaaaagh_sky - 2013-02-25 21:24 (UTC) - Expand

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