aaaaaaaagh_sky | Voodoo - Here Goes Nothing

From:

boston_bruiser

"Longevity's overrated."

He tightens his helmet, letting Patience hang by its sling.

"Lead the way."

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Ellen nods and makes her way up the stairs, D0G clanking along behind the humans. Kang and Conklin are waiting at the top in their armor; Conklin whistles. "That's what happens when mole people build a robot, huh?" he says. "Never seen one quite like that before."

D0G lets out what might be a vaguely disapproving whistle, but dips his head in response.

"Scribe Cancio's got the sentrybot ready to go, ma'am," says Kang.

"Good. The sooner we get started on this, the more chance I have of getting a full area map done while it's still light enough out to see by something other than laser fire."

From:

boston_bruiser

Voodoo's group is close by.

"Josepha, Hector, Kate - this is Paladin 101. Do what she says, when she says it, and we'll get this done no problem."

He digs into his pack, handing off a pair of binoculars to Al. "Al, if the terrain's right, you're my spotter. Get set."

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"Will do," Al says, testing the binocs briefly. It beats looking at the decidedly freakish robot that followed Voodoo out of the building. "Where are we-"

"GROUNDS PATROL UNIT REPORTING FOR DUTY, MA'AM."

"Good Lord!"

Guess who's never had a Sentrybot roll up on them from behind without warning before. Go on, guess.

"Jerald," says Ellen reprovingly, "that wasn't very nice to the poor man."

The Scribe shrugs, making an attempt at an innocent face that fails woefully to even approach credibility. "Sorry!" he calls. "That thing's acting on programming now. I just told it to join up with the Paladin as a test."

From:

boston_bruiser

Okay, so it was a little funny watching Al jump like that. But you'll be hard-pressed to get Voodoo to admit it.

"That oughta be a good bullet-sponge. If it can get down the stairs."

A half-beat.

"-it can go down stairs, right?"

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"This unit is fully capable of traversing structurally intact stairs. Unfortunately travel upstairs is twenty-five per cent slower than motion on a flat surface."

"There's some self-adjusting hydraulics attached to the individual wheels," Jerald notes. "Nothing on the order of a leg but if they're tweaked properly it can raise a wheel far enough to get purchase on most steps, then swing its wheelbase around to match. Going upstairs it lumbers, going down is... just don't get in front of it in case the steps stop cooperating."

From:

boston_bruiser

"You heard the gearhead," Voodoo says, addressing his group. "Let the robot go first."

He takes a small green carton of ammunition out of his vest and hands it to Hector. "Slug rounds," he explains. "They'll work better on armor than the buckshot you've got."

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"I'll be sure to make 'em count," says Hector.

"See to it that you do," says Ellen, "along with these- no, don't shake that! That's a wide radius high intensity explosive you've got there."

"Smells like Nuka-Cola," says Hector dubiously.

"That's one of the critical components. Trust me, that's the nastiest grenade I have. Along with a few plasma grenades, if you're good to use those."

From:

boston_bruiser

"Don't go tossing 'em just for chuckles. This is site recon, not search-and-destroy."

Voodoo unslings Patience and checks the chamber - the brass of a cartridge is seated right where it should be.

"Sound off. Everyone set?"

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"I'm good," says Kate.

"Same here."

"And here."

"Ready to go, boss."

"Good," says Ellen, when they've all reported in. "All I'm trying to do here is get this place mapped. We're not looking to take anything out that's bigger than a holotape, and we're not looking to destroy anything in particular. If the robots attack, hold them off, but there's no need to wipe anything out unless it comes at us guns blazing."

From:

boston_bruiser

"Al and I'll be up high, picking off what we can. We'll try not to let 'em get too close, but keep your head on a swivel. No heroics. Let the robots do the heavy lifting."

He glances at D0G and pats the closest arm.

"Sorry, pal. You're bulletproof. We ain't."

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Bwrrp boop. D0G understands. D0G even gives a thumbs up!

"One other thing," says Ellen. "A number of these robots are going to be Robobrains. I've encountered Robobrains before that had chassis markings from before the War, but I can't honestly say how many of the ones on the premises here are that old, and how many of them have had parts replaced by their fellow robots. Don't let them corner you."

Kate pales, but she, and the others, nod.

"All right. Let's get in there and find what we can find."

From:

boston_bruiser

It's about half a mile to the General Atomics plant. Most of it is situated on fairly level ground, but there are some steep hills overlooking the place that give a good line of sight into it. Voodoo prones out next to a rock, setting his helmet down next to him - it'll work well for a .30-06 stash.

A quick survey of the grounds through the scope reveals little of interest, so far.

"Radio check. Check one, check two."

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"We hear you," comes Ellen's voice over the radio. "We're in position to start moving. I'm sending our Sentry in first. D0G's going to bring up the rear."

He is, after all, as tall as a supermutant and considerably more resistant to being shot in the back than the humans.

From:

boston_bruiser

"Check. You're clear so far."

As he continues to scope out the grounds, Voodoo catches a flash of movement in the corporate offices - it's gone too fast to get a solid look.

"Movement, third deck of the big building, our side. No shot."

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"Not a big surprise. The place's infested," returns Ellen. "Sentry, move up."

Her radio's off before the big bot can croak "Affirmative," but it doesn't take heard words to see the thing rolling out into the open space between two buildings and beginning a 360-degree scan of the vicinity. Looks like they subverted one of the ones with a chaingun for an arm- and like Jerald had the sense to paint a small but recognizable Brotherhood emblem just above the center of its back.

"Okay, the Sentry's not seeing anything at ground level just yet. Let's move up, people. I want to get a little further in before I switch on the stealth field."

From:

boston_bruiser

"We've got you covered on the open ground."

He starts another slow sweep of the grounds and halts at a row of windows lining the side of the big building.

"Contact, Robobrain. First deck of the office building, moving to the entrance."

If Voodoo had to guess, he'd guess it's about 800 meters out. No wind he can see, but he'll need to correct for elevation.

KPOK.

-yup, looks to be around 800, judging from that hit.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"Other hostile units detected," announces the sentrybot's synthesized voice over the radio link. "Human units are advised to conceal themselves."

There are, if one knows where to look, a pair of Mr. Gutsys sweeping in from the farther areas of the corporate complex.

From:

boston_bruiser

KPOK.

Voodoo works the bolt, not taking his eye from the scope.

KPOK.

Two down. He might be a machinegunner by trade, but he's no one-trick pony.

(It's just that the M60 was more fun than anything they taught him at Quantico.)

"Start callin' out gooners," he says to Al, reloading while there's a break in hostiles. "Location, orientation, type, whatever. Just keep it simple."

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"Will do," Al promises, and takes aim.

The Knights are visible, keeping close to one of the building walls; Hector is between them, dwarfed by the power armor. He's got one of the plasma grenades in his hand.

"Stealthing now," Ellen says. "I'm going to have to be quiet. The bots have audio sensors that aren't affected by the stealth field."

Then she's gone; at this distance it'd be something of a miracle to spot a person-shaped blur, especially with all the bots starting to make their way out of the largest building's various doors and sweep the premises.

From:

boston_bruiser

KPOK.

KPOK.

KPOK.

Fire and work the bolt, fire and work the bolt. That's all Voodoo's job boils down to right now.

"Two Robobrains moving to flank you guys," he murmurs, cheek pressed up against the rifle's stock. "They're moving around the buildings. Check your corners."

KPOK.

"Disregard my last, just one."

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"Spotted," murmur's a man's voice over the radio. Kang's, probably. "Paladin?"

"Draw its fire your way. I've made a loop of the main building and I need to get around to the other side of the R&D works."

"Yes ma'am."

From:

boston_bruiser

KPOK.

Voodoo moves with purpose on the reload, careful not to fumble a cartridge. As he fits the last one into the magazine, he pushes the bolt home and scopes out the far end of the compound.

"More moving out of a building, far side of the compound. One deck, broken window, beige paint. I count twenty, say again- belay that, twenty-five, say again, two-five Robobrains in the open, with more coming."

More for D0G and the sentrybot, but just how many more are there?

KPOK.

"You're gonna want to hurry."

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"Oh Jesus," says Ellen.

(She never swears.)

"Kang, have D0G cover that civilian. I'm running this building, stat."

The stealth field is useless if they hear you moving, but it was hard enough creeping into and out of the Ark and Dove Cathedral grounds in Point Lookout, and the residents there were brain-addled tribals. If they can buy her enough time to make the run and get out, that'll be worth it.

From:

boston_bruiser

KPOK.

Voodoo fires that rifle like a machine, working the bolt and firing about as fast as he can.

KPOK.

The rounds hit home with deadly efficiency, but with every Robobrain killed, it's like three take its place.

KPOK.

But for want of snow, Marines, Chinese Communists, it's a Chosin Reservoir re-enactment.

Click. Empty chamber.

He glances at his helmet - both cartridge boxes are empty, he's way, way out of range for his carbine, and the zergs just keep on rushing.

An 880 yard sprint. Not his idea of fun, but it's gotta be done.

"Rifle's dry," he radios. "We'll sprint off the hill, assault through the east gate, and try to draw them off before linking up with you. Four minutes out."

He dumps the empty ammo cartons out of his helmet before slapping it on his head and jumping to his feet.

"C'mon, Al! Up, let's go!"

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"We hear you," says Kang. "We're moving. Paladin?"

"Descending the building. I have what I came for. Anything else would be gravy. Coming around in stealth mode, so watch for the blur."

"Understood, ma'am."

Al scrambles to his feet, swallowing, but with his weapon at the ready. "I'm good. I'm coming," he says.

From:

boston_bruiser

"Keep up."

A half-mile sprint in full battle rattle is no joke, especially over terrain as uneven and rocky as this. But there's simply no way around it. Legs pumping, chest heaving, boots pounding the ground, he makes the best time he can - but even that is too slow. By the time they reach the east gate, there seem to be whole platoons of Robobrains streaming out of the offices, converging on the humans.

God bless Milliways. -well, okay, more like God bless the fact that Voodoo's room doubles as an armory. He's not wanting for frags anymore. He takes one out, pulling the pin.

"HEY, YOU FUCKIN' GEARHEADS!"

chiiing goes the grenade's arming lever.

"PRESENT FOR YA!"

With a heave, the bomb is hurled into a dense cluster of Robobrains - far enough away from the Knights and Voodoo's people that the shrapnel will hopefully go into a gearbox instead of human flesh.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

'Gearheads' isn't exactly the right term for these, as Voodoo's about to find out. Any other robot in the Wasteland, maybe. Even the Mr. Gutsys, who don't have head regions separate from their central cores, would probably be more accurately described by the term.

The 'bots who're converging on the area are cylinders mounted on treads, with snakelike arms that end in pincers, and on top of every single one there's a half-dome of plastic or glass. And inside each one, suspended in luminescent biogel, is a visibly biological and very definitely human-sized brain. At least until the explosion, anyway. Then there's equal parts of 'bot and brain-dome scattered all over the place. The Robobrains pause a moment as one of them calls out, in a faintly feminine digitized voice, "Even I know that was not a nice thing to do."

Which would almost be funny, if that weren't the moment the majority of them began spewing laser fire at the humans.

From:

boston_bruiser

"Fuck fuck fuck-"

Voodoo hugs a wall, leveling his carbine and taking whatever good shots present themselves. One or two laser blasts come close to burning his beard off, and another grazes his shooting arm, tearing his cammies and giving him a bloody burn he won't notice until the fight's over. It's not easy, popping off all those headshots, but eventually it gets to the point where the herd has thinned out enough to let him and Al maneuver into the grounds. He lets the empty magazine drop from his carbine, tucking it into the dump pouch on his hip before inserting a new one and pressing the bolt release.

"Watch your fires, friendlies comin' in on your flank, 'round the buildings!"

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"You could run?" suggests another synthesized voice, as the air suddenly ripples with a wave of something that can't quite be seen; it doesn't look like a good idea to get in its way, that's for sure. "We are programmed to kill you, you know."

It's not directed at Voodoo. It's directed at the two Knights, who've taken advantage of a downed chunk of masonry as cover and who're potshotting as many of the bots with plasma as they physically can. The sentrybot is firing over Hector's head at the oncoming attackers; D0G is mostly grabbing whatever unfortunate bot comes into its range with the zero-point energy manipulator and hurling it back into the crowd. The droid does, after all, have orders to protect Hector.

From:

boston_bruiser

"Friendlies at your six, friendlies at your six!"

It's one last mad dash around the building before Voodoo and Al make it to the Knights. He pats Hector on the back, just hard enough to let him know he's there, and gives a thumbs-up to Josepha and Kate before clapping D0G on one massive, silverback-esque shoulder.

"HEY BOY!"

He points to the gathering storm of Robobrains, massing on their position.

"KILL!"

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Bwoop bap! You don't have to tell D0G twice. The droid happily flares the flaps around its cycloptic eye before charging into the melee and setting about destroying any 'bot within reach.

(The sound of a dropped stealth field going foomp is quiet at the best of times, and could not possibly be heard over this melee. But the addition of a new streak of plasma from a concealed alcove not far away, now, that's another story.)

From:

boston_bruiser

Voodoo doesn't pay it much notice; he's too preoccupied taking up a position alongside one of the Knights and opening up on whatever bots that have yet to face the wrath of D0G.

(Seriously, he's a one-bot wrecking crew. What will he take in place of a beer after this? RAM? Motor oil? Transistors?)

He ducks down long enough to pull the pin out of another grenade and chuck it at another particularly dense gathering of Robobrains.

"Frag out!"

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"Great move. Start falling back," comes Ellen's voice over the radio as the explosive din fades.. "I'm behind the wall at your ten o'clock and I got what we came for. The faster we're off the property the faster these things stop shooting."

"That's the best news I've had all day!" says Hector. "I've still got three good booms left- they're not gonna get our tails if I can help it!"

From:

boston_bruiser

"That's the way. Al, Josepha, fall back into cover - Kate, Hector, lay down covering fire. Don't any'a you go gettin' shot, now."

With two more shots, two more Robobrains are down, and he turns, vaulting over an aged concrete barrier as he reloads. "Gotcha covered!" he shouts to the Knights.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Josepha salutes and dives for cover. Hector cackles and rips one of the cylinders from his belt. "Hey! Tin cans!" he yells. "Eat this!"

Gotta hand it to him: for a man his age he's got a hell of a pitching arm, and good enough reflexes to be half into the cover offered by an ancient security checkpoint shed before the grenade completes its arc. The green brilliance that floods the area a moment later sends a number of the Robobrains spinning erratically into each other, as does the second plasma grenade a moment later.

"Additional incoming hostiles detected," the reprogrammed Sentrybot announces suddenly. "Adding target to threat matrix."

It spins to face the looming black forms that have just rolled into view behind the brain-bots: two more Sentrybots, one of them already beginning to spew fire from a Gatling laser of an arm.

Mwooo?

"No! Don't bother fighting them, D0G, just evacuate!" says Ellen, and gives the droid an ineffectual shove. "Go! Go! Go!"

Edited Date: 2015-02-19 08:04 pm (UTC)

From:

boston_bruiser

~~(This would be a much easier job if Asimov was required reading for GA people.)~~

It's when two bolts from the enemy sentrybots come way too close for comfort that Voodoo decides it's time to relocate, reloading as he edges back, wasting any Robobrains that present themselves. He takes cover behind D0G, clapping him twice on the back. "C'mon, boy, you heard her! Time to pick up sticks, let's go!"

Edited Date: 2015-02-21 12:35 am (UTC)

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

With an annoyed whrrrp, the big droid obeys, galloping towards the streets of Philadelphia at a teeth-jarring pace. The armored humans might- might- be able to keep up with him, but Kate and Josepha and Hector haven't got external augmentic servos- and frankly, neither does Ellen. There are times when having the stride of somebody 5'2" tall is a real pain. The broken pavement is no one's friend; she stumbles-

"Easy, ma'am," says Conklin, who doesn't so much steady her as reach out with both armored hands and lift her over the lumpiest patch of concrete. "On your feet. I've got your back."

"Thanks, Knight," says Ellen. "Keep-"

"Target acquired."

The sentrybot's Gatling laser stops firing. Its other arm glows briefly. Then there's a THOOM as the missile launcher fires.

From:

boston_bruiser

"Shit-"

Voodoo doesn't see where the missile hits - he ducks behind a building before it impacts and hurriedly leans out to get two shots at the sentrybot before ducking back into cover. Oh, but for want of a smoke grenade.

"Everyone good?"

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"Yes."
"Yes."
"I'm good."
"Yes."
"Conklin?... D0G! D0G, get back here, we need an evac!"

From:

boston_bruiser

Voodoo sprints over, ducking down besides Ellen as he assesses Conklin. No damage to the suit from what he can tell, but better safe than sorry.

"Where's he hit?"

He's already reaching into the blowout kit on his thigh pocket for a stimpack.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"No rupture," says Ellen tersely; she's used to these suits and she knows where to check for hidden damage. "No sign of blood. He's not responsive- the missile blew him off his feet."

She glances up at the bots and beckons to D0G.

"Let's go. We're almost out of range. I can assess him properly when they aren't trying to laser my head off."

From:

boston_bruiser

"You got it."

Lifting Conklin up into a fireman's carry is like hauling a sack of brahmin up a flight of stairs, and about as easy on the musculoskeletal system.

(It helps to think of it as an exceptionally difficult deadlift.)

When Voodoo's got Conklin on his shoulders, he turns his back to D0G, teeth grit.

"C'mon, boy. Throwin' my back out ain't my idea of fun."

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

D0G drops to a low crouch to make it easier for Voodoo. The instant Conklin's weight is securely across his back, the droid takes off at a surprisingly smooth gallop; the other security bot is firing RPGs now too and D0G isn't taking any more chances.

Neither is anyone else. Ellen gestures to Voodoo and the rest to run like hell.

From:

boston_bruiser

Right now, Voodoo isn't running on the greatest sleep, it's been a while since he's had a proper meal, and even with Conklin off his back, he's still lugging around 30 pounds of gear on him.

But you can bet your ass he's giving Carl Lewis a run for his money with how he's booking it.

So long, Robobrains. He won't miss you.

S	M	T	W	T	F	S
1	2	3	4	5	6	7
8	9	10	11	12	13	14
15	16	17	18	19	20	21
22	23	24	25	26	27	28
29	30	31

Voodoo - Here Goes Nothing

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags