'FOUND V'
No time to waste, It's clear that going down the long corridor in front of me is a great way to get shot in the back- to guarantee my escape would waste preciously expensive equipment, or if they decide to use whatever weapon kill the old scrapper it wouldn't even work.
In my dilemma I make a dash to the central plaza.
With my original exit the ash would be against my back, it wouldn't even obscure my movement down the corridor, not as well as the plaza would. The way into the plaza would allow me to cover more ground while still being obscured by the walls as well, though is a longer distance.
I swing around the door into the plaza, sticking to the left wall to exploit their limited cone of vision into the area from outside. I'm undoubtedly moving faster, they're most likely sticking to formation to clear the area, but I still might not have enough time.
I half-considered going down into the side tunnels, but I had no idea of the condition nor the actual route they went. For all I knew they could be dead ends, traps, or lead into an arguably worse position- it's possible. In hindsight, probably should've checked while I was here.
I reach into one of my many pouches attached to my waist, pulling out a smoke grenade.
I pull off the pin dropping it behind me before the staircase down into the main station, the smoke obscured my descent as I went. Though I could clearly hear the entry of the hostiles by the fact they took the liberty to fire toward me- luckily, they were too late.
Smoke grenades are not as luxury as other pieces of equipment, though still worth their weight no doubt. Though with shots still fired, I have a concern that they may have thermal equipment powerful enough to pierce through it- which could call for further waste.
Well, just about, I'm pretty sure a round clipped the top of my helmet. Either way, I made my way toward the dens door, no doubt triggering any further alarm system in my mad dash toward it. I crashed into the thick metal, which was enough to be considered audible from the inside.
"SC! Open this fucking door!" I shout,
The door was unlocked immediately, and I pushed through it before quickly slamming in closed behind myself. The three random podlings almost immediately vanished into the right side of the den, and the runt had the nerve to run into the strange laboratory from the range.
"These are not raiders." I sharply inform,
"I figured, let me get some stuff to deal with this." She quickly replied,
As I made my way across to the left side to take position behind a set of barrels the SC pulled an assortment of equipment from a box under her booth. A rifle, a handgun, and an set of, what I can only assume are improvised explosive devices.
I neglected to prepare myself properly, usually in den sieges the opposing side has to take a long while drilling, laying explosives, or just waiting outside the door. I hadn't properly made the distinction between this strangely organised group and raiders.
They were more sophisticated than I had originally anticipated comparatively to raiders.
There was an uncomfortable lack of noise coming from the outside, with the alarms indicating their slow approach to the door. From that point there were sounds of shuffling and supposedly anchoring. I assumed this was to set up a traditional drill.
It can take hours for a drill to rip through the locks of a den door, and by that point the raiders would be charging into a very prepared set of defenders. Though the SC didn't even bother to set up the prepared explosives, instead putting them on her person.
Except, I watch in horror as an immediate explosion of sparks shot through a particular area of the door. Not large enough to make a hole, not yet, as the sparks slowly made their way around the door in a rectangular incision. A laser drill?
The cylinders on the ceiling light up in unison to the fiery spitting from the door, it's like the entire den was temporarily turned into an oven.
"In the fucking outskirts?" I accidently comment,
The SC looked over toward me in a similar confusion, and in those precious seconds the laser had completed its task.
An explosive goes off, launching the now cut door forward with a great force and it crashed straight into the booth- prompting the SC to dive for cover. I had little shock in me left, so acting almost autonomously my arm reached into my front most pouch, with the other upward to aim.
The SC in her dive must've triggered some sort of fire defence, as the strange cylindrical devices on the dens roof began to launch out large amounts of smoke into the den. It's like she read my mind, a perfect situation for an EMP device.
Unlike a smoke grenade, an EMP device is a very specialised piece of equipment mostly utilised against rust-buckets, though can also be used to temporarily disable or even break even more precious pieces of equipment on a hostile person.
I flung the EMP with precision at the doorway, and as the now five confirmed adversaries flooded in and fanned out, the smoke crashed on top of us and the EMP went off disabling any possible thermal imagery they possessed.
After which I flipped down my own multi-vision, crouched down further behind the barrels, and fired.
I fire several times in the direction of three opposing silhouettes of heat in my multi-vision, two figures collapse to the floor as a third lobs something vaguely in my direction. It bounces to my right detonates. Launching one of the nearby barrels into me, ripping it apart.
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Something sharp is lodged in my shoulder, it's painful to lift my weapon, but I manage to fire a further several times before running out of ammunition. My multi-vision was unresponsive, I quickly threw it off my head- it's probably broken regardless.
As the smoke began to settle onto the ground I was pounced upon by a nearby assailant, with a knife drawn he stabs at me, I use the side of my rifle as a shield against his arm. I attempt to push him back, but we both end up falling down and he jumps upward in an attempt to stab me again.
I try reach for my secondary, except, my holster is empty. He takes the opportunity and at my head, I purposefully shift forward causing the knife to lodge into my filter into the left side of my lower jaw. His assault lacked the desirable response, as expected.
I go to grab his pistol, but I just can't reach, he goes for it. It's too late.
A gun is fired further down the platform from the range, resulting in the hostile slumping over. I reach for the knife in my jaw, pulling it out with little issue- the smoke caused me to choke for a moment, confirming the failure of my filtration.
I push him off me, grabbing his handgun to aim it at another one of the hostiles near the SC booth It was an extremely high quality item, but instead of firing a shot all I got was an electric shock from the trigger causing me to drop it.
I dive down to avoid retaliation, and another explosive is set off in the centre platform. It was then followed by the crashing of shelves before finally the area fell completely silent. I turn over, reconsidering my decision to run back into the den over attempting to leave.
It's hard to accept when you've made a choice that wasn't completely logical, smart, or even remotely beneficial to yourself. Though I think it's safe to say this won't be happening again- equipment wasted, ammunition spent, and injury to person.
Yeah, I can accept that this was a terrible decision, but, I'm alive. Barely.
"For fuck sake." I gruffly complain,
I rip the broken filtration mask off my face in frustration, these things are not cheap- My shoulder, I managed to get a piece of a barrel lodged into it, which is just great.
"Did I get him?" The runt joyfully interjected,
"You got him. Nice job, kid." I tiredly reply,
Looks like he can hit when it counts.
I move my left hand across my neck- Looks like the knife didn't do anything serious, so all the damage is limited to my shoulder and torso.
I picked myself up carefully, assessing my centre, luckily no bullets pierced the body armour. But, that doesn't mean I've probably got a cracked rib or two.
"Check if the bloody SC is alive." I painfully order,
The pain is irritating enough to get me to sit back down, this time on the damaged leftovers of a crate. The kid went over to me, where his attitude went from glee to grim, which is fair.
"Are you good? Wait... Is your jaw metal?" He quickly questioned,
"I'm good enough. Now go check on the SC kid." I strictly command,
The kid reluctantly made his way across to the shredded booth, which he would look over for the SC, and he quickly jumped over to help with something, I don't know.
"I need help!" The kid shouted,
I groaned in a combination of annoyance and agony, I pick myself up to make my way over to the booth. With great struggle I lay my eyes on the SC, who had managed to get a man and shelf on top of her, in that order.
"You alive SC?" I boorishly ask,
"Yes! Now get this fucking shelf and dickhead off of me!" She furiously demanded,
I shake my head and decide to comply. I, doing most the lifting, help the kid get the dead hostile and shelf off of her. It seems she managed to also get herself fairly injured.
"You good, Lila?" The kid asked the SC,
"I'm alive." She sharply replied,
While they were jabbering back and forth about injury or the location of the other podlings, I examined the corpse of the hostile. No discernible markings of rank or allegiance, their uniform and equipment surprisingly kept- almost factory new.
Well, it was factory new until I threw an EMP, and then shot at them. Most of their equipment was probably either damaged or straight broken, but that's not too terrible.
"Could probably salvage their stuff to repair mine, but some of this is impressively kept." I comment,
The kid quickly moved away, most likely to collect whatever is useful, and to find the other podlings. Leaving the SC and me.
The SC went about limping over to a crate, taking out a multitude of medical boxes. Her leg was bleeding, probably from a bullet wound, which she immediately began treating.
"Need morphine, scrapper?" The SC asked,
"Is it free?" I instinctively ask,
"Yes. It is, free." She hesitantly replied,
I quickly snatch the vial out of her hand without a second thought, which did not get the most satisfied look out of her. But I'll take free morphine any day. A quick injection is all it takes.
"It's not free to fuckin' take!" She shouted,
"Cheers for the morphine, Lila." I sarcastically reply,
Her face is response was clearly not satisfied. Though I returned the morphine vial nonetheless, a little bit of pain drugs never hurt anyone- well, it's never hurt me at least.
"The kid saved me, before it looked like he would struggle to hit metal, but he managed to hit brains anyway." I say,
"He always manages to do something impressive, even if it's retarded." She rudely replied,
"I'd like to take him, old man said I could, if I helped you of course." I respond,
She sighed in some sort of relief, but seemed fairly saddened by the reminder that the old man was dead. I guess he was around for a while, the loss of a den elder can be pretty heavy.
"Yeah, Ed would do something like that. The idiot, I shouldn't have- Fuck." She painfully said,
"He was a scrapper, he did his job." I bluntly reassure,
I could tell there was a conflict around my offer in her mind, the kid holds some sort of value, either sentimental or physical. A natural born, but also considered family.
"I can help you get out of here. Podlings and all you can take with you, I think that'll close the deal then?" I offer,
"Yeah. Yeah, sure." She abruptly accepted,
"The morphine kicks in hard, doesn't it? Is that leg going to be a problem? We have a long way to go, and it's not an easy one." I say,
It was then she managed to notice the fact that my jaw was in fact mostly metal, with a knife shaped hole in the side of it. Though she shook the shock out of herself.
"Yeah it's no problem, I- Well, I can help you repair what you need to, I can get that shrapnel out your shoulder, and handle myself. I hope you can do the rest, I'm not that much of a shooter." She boorishly said,
"That'd be great. But, we're dealing with someone with a weapon that needs more than one angle to take down." I reply,
"Fuck. These fuckers are always a problem, come around every so often and screw up the entire area." She complained,
Come around every so often? Who the hell are these dudes, I have my reservations but this is completely unusual behaviour.
"Got any information to share there Lila?" I ask,
"One, don't call me that unless you give me your name. Two, no, but there are a few things you can look over in some of the rooms. I think I might have somethin' interestin' in the back too." She replied,
"Well, the name's Rory, firstly. Secondly, give me all the info you got, and I can help myself with repair or recovery. Well except for the jaw of course, that needs a weld." I respond,
"You're my ticket out of here, last thing I want is your injury getting worse. I'll take the fuckin' piece of metal out of your shoulder." She affirmed,
Then the kid shouts out. Looking over the booth it seemed he decided to check on one of the hostiles weapons. Those things have dead-man switches, and seem quite sophisticated.
"I wouldn't try to touch any of those weapons. Just take them apart, they're worth more that way than together." I say,
"Yup. Did you find the others!" She shouted at the kid,
"They're in a crate in the third room!" The kid shouted back,
To survive you either have to hide or fight, and hiding usually leads to fighting eventually. It's just the way of the world. But, everyone's alive, barely.
